The Vampire's Luna -
Chapter 79: Sia - Bird Set Free
Chapter 79: Sia - Bird Set Free
Lucivar regarded her carefully, then slowly nodded. There was a fire in her eyes he hadn’t seen in her before.
"Very well," he said at last. "I’ll see what we have available in the Royal Empire. There are some administrative posts in the council."
"I’ll take anything," Luna said quickly.
Lucivar chuckled, shaking his head. "In the meantime, you’ll stay in the prince’s castle. Until we can find a befitting residence for you."
Luna bowed slightly, warmth finally creeping into her chest. "Thank you, Your Highness."
*****
Seliora’s room looked like it had been hit by a particularly vengeful tornado. Perfume bottles, hairpins, and luxury creams were scattered across the floor, casualties of her outrage. The mirror above her vanity had a jagged crack running through it—fitting, really. Everything in her world was starting to fracture.
"She’s back," she spat. "She actually came back."
Seliora’s fingers curled tightly around the edge of the vanity. She had known, somewhere deep down that Luna would return. But Seliora had dared to dream.
Now, that dream was slipping. Fast.
She stormed out of her chambers, leaving her scattered vanity to mourn its fallen contents alone. Her heels clicked angrily against the marble floors of the palace as she headed straight for Lucivar’s castle, each step a vow that she would not be pushed aside.
As she burst into the King’s receiving chamber, the guards stood in her way and went to announce her arrival.
A few minutes later, she was led into the living room.
Lucivar was lounging in a chair, sipping bloodwine and pretending not to have a thousand problems to solve. He raised an eyebrow as Seliora stormed in.
"Your highness." Seliora dipped into a deep, calculated bow, her chin raised just enough to project respect while still meeting King Lucivar’s gaze. There was no warmth in her tone. No honey, no coyness. Just ice and an urgent need for answers.
Lucivar leaned back in his chair, folding his hands calmly over his lap. "I assume you’ve heard about the return of the princess."
"Yes, your highness," she replied. "It’s the reason I’m here. Now that she’s back—permanently, it seems—I thought it might be time to... redefine my role in the Blood City."
She wanted to be cool, composed, professional. But her nails were digging into her palm under her elegant sleeves, and her heart was thudding with an ugly rhythm.
"Nothing is set in stone yet, Seliora," Lucivar replied. "When—and if—the time comes, your position will be reviewed appropriately."
Seliora blinked, then took a step forward, shoulders squared. "How? Reviewed in what way? Will I be asked to quietly return to my family home in disgrace? Will I remain here as the prince’s concubine, smiling politely while the entire court whispers behind my back? Or will I simply be... tossed aside?"
Lucivar sighed, rubbing the space between his eyebrows. "That," he said slowly, "is the prince’s call."
Seliora’s lips parted in disbelief, then curled in frustration. "The prince’s call? Forgive me, your highness, I truly mean no disrespect—but you chose me. Not him. You and the council. You told me it was my duty to bear an heir. To secure the bloodline!"
Lucivar didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. She knew the answer already.
"I have done everything you asked. I tried to be patient. I looked the other way when he left the bed cold. I endured being nothing more than a royal obligation. But I did it. I did it because I believed that if I fulfilled my duty, I would earn a place—real, lasting, respectable."
She paused, breath trembling. "What if I had already conceived? What then? Would a child born of duty be cast aside now that his fated mate has strolled in? Would the child be seen as a mistake? A stain?"
Lucivar stood at that, tall and imposing in his silence. "That’s a dangerous hypothetical, Seliora."
"It’s also an unavoidable one," she snapped. "If Luna is here to stay, and I am expected to stay quiet, I need to know whether I’m still playing a role... or simply holding a costume that’s already been given to someone else."
Finally, Lucivar exhaled. "You will be respected, Seliora. And cared for. But your future with Damien... that’s no longer a matter I can control."
Tears stung Seliora’s eyes badly as she bit down on her lip, keeping words that could have her beheaded buried inside.
"You know what, let’s bring this before the council in the morning," Lucivar said. His hands went to the small of his back.
"Yes, Your Highness," Seliora replied smoothly, bowing with grace, though the stiffness in her spine made it clear she wasn’t thrilled about it. She turned to leave but his voice stopped her mid-step.
"But," he said, "I would advise you speak with the prince himself before we begin to hang our dirty laundry in public."
Seliora paused. Her lips tightened, and she turned her head just enough to glance back over her shoulder. "The prince has already made his stance known," she replied, each word carefully wrapped in restraint.
"Still," Lucivar said. "Speak with him. What he has to say may favour every one of us—yourself included."
Seliora gave a slight nod. She didn’t trust Damien now that his head was in the clouds. But she knew Lucivar’s advice was rarely without purpose. And if there was even a sliver of power to reclaim, she would take it.
*****
Luna had just finished arranging her bedroom. Her mark still burned faintly beneath the scarf she had refused to take off.
Sleep eluded her, so she shuffled to the kitchen, barefoot, hair messily braided over one shoulder, and decided a cup of tea might soothe the emotional thunderstorm brewing in her chest.
She placed the kettle on the stovetop and stood quietly, letting the silence and steam settle her nerves.
And then, his voice broke the peace.
"Luna, we have to talk."
She didn’t turn. Just calmly adjusted the flame beneath the kettle. "I’m exhausted, Damien. I need sleep."
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