Can You Be My Luna

Chapter 3 HUMILIATION

A cold splash of water hit my face, dragging me out of a restless, dreamless sleep. I gasped, jerking upright, my heart pounding as icy droplets ran down my skin. Vanessa stood over me, her perfect lips curved into a cruel smile, the empty glass dangling carelessly in her hand.

"Wake up, little bride," she said, her voice sweet but laced with poison. "Your master wants to see you. I'd hurry if I were you he doesn't like waiting."

Her laughter trailed behind her as she turned and left the tiny servants' room, her heels clicking against the floor like the ticking of a clock counting down to my misery.

For a long moment, I just sat there, shivering. The thin blanket clung to my damp skin, and the morning air bit through the cracks in the window. My wedding dress once white, now wrinkled and stained, hung awkwardly around me.

It felt heavy, suffocating, like a cruel reminder of the life I'd been forced into.

Slowly, I pushed myself up, my muscles stiff from the cold floor. I peeled off the gown, folding it carefully, even though part of me wanted to tear it apart. Beneath it, I slipped into my old clothes thin, torn, the same ones I'd worn back home. My stepmother and father had never thought I deserved anything better.

When I caught a glimpse of myself in the small cracked mirror, I almost didn't recognize the girl staring back. My eyes were dull, ringed with shadows, and my cheek was still bruised from last night. But beneath the exhaustion and fear, I saw something else faint but alive.

I smoothed my hair with trembling hands, took a shaky breath, and forced my feet to move. The mansion was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that made your own heartbeat sound too loud. Every step echoed down the polished hallway, each one a reminder that I was walking straight into something I couldn't escape.

When I reached the living room, Lucas was already there, seated comfortably in an armchair, a cup of coffee in hand. Morning sunlight spilt through the windows, casting long shadows across his face sharp, unreadable.

He looked up when I entered, his eyes narrowing as they drifted over my worn clothes. Lucas didn't look at me right away. He stirred his coffee lazily, the spoon clinking against the cup.

Finally, without looking up, "Come closer," he ordered. I obeyed, my legs trembling beneath me. My heart pounded so loudly that I thought it might burst.

"You can start earning your keep, little wife. Go make me breakfast" he said. His tone was calm, almost casual, but I heard the warning buried beneath it.

I nodded and turned toward the kitchen. My hands shook as I cracked the eggs, the smell of oil and smoke filling the air. My thoughts tangled with fear. I had never cooked for anyone but myself before. What if it wasn't good enough? What if he got angry again?

Every sound in the kitchen felt amplified the hiss of the pan, the tick of the clock, the thud of my heartbeat.

When I finally carried the tray to the dining table, Lucas was lounging in his chair, Vanessa now beside him. She rested her chin on her hand, eyes gleaming with the kind of interest people have when they're watching someone fall apart.

I placed the plate gently before him and stepped back.

He picked up a fork, took a bite, and then paused. Slowly, he set the fork down and looked up at me, amusement glinting in his cold eyes.

"Tasteless," he said. Before I could react, he swept the plate off the table. The food splattered across the floor, bits of it landing near my feet. Vanessa burst into laughter, her voice cutting through the air like glass.

Lucas leaned back, his gaze fixed on me. "Eat it," he said softly.

My breath caught. "W–what?"

"I said eat it. Or would you rather I remind you who you belong to?" His tone didn't rise, but the danger in it was enough.

Tears welled up, but I couldn't stop them. My knees gave way, and I sank slowly to the floor. My hands trembled as I picked up the food. Their laughter filled the room echoing.

The food was cold and oily. It burned my throat, not from heat, but from shame. Tears slipped from my eyes and fell onto the pieces I forced myself to eat.

When I finally looked up, Lucas was smiling a small, satisfied curve of his lips while Vanessa rested her head on his shoulder, still laughing softly.

Something inside me broke then quiet, invisible, but final. Yet beneath all that pain, buried deep in the place where no one could touch, something began to stir. It was faint, a whisper. This will not be forever.