A Vow under the Moonlight

There was too much noise. The servants were running all over to prepare the mansion for an important guest. Once in a while, whispers could be heard before they blended into the sounds of people working on their tasks. Cassandra was not bothered by the noise. Her raven hair was let down as she watched the bustle with dull green eyes from her window. She knew what was coming and did not like it one bit. "Cassandra!" a young voice called before she felt something launch at her. With practiced ease, she steadied her stance to avoid stumbling and landing on the floor. "Denise!" a cry of horror came from another young voice. She turned and saw a boy no older than six looking at her with his golden eyes in apology. His black hair was ruffled, and the flush on his face suggested he had run all the way. "Don't pounce on Mother like that!" "I don't care!" Denise, with equally black hair and golden eyes, said as she buried herself in her mother's bosom. "I can do what I want. Mother will understand and won't be angry." "That's improper. It's fine when we're young, but now, with our size, Mother could fall over." The boy approached the willful girl. "I understand why you did it, but please think a little more before doing something." Cassandra let the boy continue his lecture as she patted the young girl's back. It was a common occurrence. Her children were always full of energy, gifts, and power—her treasures, whom she had cared for in a land that was too unforgiving for someone like her. It had been years—seven full years—since she left home. Seven long years of running away from fate and destiny. But she guessed time had run out and she must permanently cut off the threads that connected her back to that fateful night during her seventeenth season. Feeling a little faint from the fleeting memory, she found herself holding her girl closer. The girl was more than happy to be in her mother's embrace, her arms wrapped around her mother's waist with glee. Once in a while, the girl laughed happily and grinned at her mother, who found herself drowning in her bright golden eyes. "Mother?" the boy called, noticing the moment his mother had momentarily blanked and unconsciously drawn his sister nearer to her. "Are you feeling well?" Looking at her young boy's form, Cassandra managed a small smile. "I'm fine," she said, trying to assure him. Her boy was the most sensitive of the two. He always noticed the subtle motions and emotions of others. More often than not, he went out of his way to comfort others if he could help it. He looked at her, reading her facial expressions for anything off. Seeing nothing, he let go of his worry. His attention went back to his insensitive sister who remained ignorant of their mother's discomfort. Cassandra knew her boy had temporarily let go of his concerns. And she knew that he was about to lecture his sister for something the other probably did out of boredom or a flight of impulse. To prevent them from being unruly, she asked them about their lessons today. "...Well, I guess it was fine?" the boy replied, tilting his head as he thought about how to best describe his day. His face frowned a little as he seemed to be remembering something unpleasant. "With the party the baroness is throwing, most of my swordsmanship lessons were cut short. I only had a spar with the teacher today. My history and etiquette studies were cut short as well." "The Baroness has effectively dismissed Damian's sword teacher for five days," Denise cut in with a gloomy tone. "Sir Terry was commanded to be a gate guard for five days for an infraction that did not exist. If Sir Terry hadn't been appointed by Uncle Keith personally, the baroness would have definitely driven him away." "Victoria must have schemed a lot to be able to successfully drive away your uncle's knight for five days," Cassandra said, raising a brow at the information. "Baron's wife or not, she cannot dismiss a knight personally assigned by the lord." "She did, Mother!" Denise cried with exaggerated gestures as if it would explain everything as she let go of her mother's waist. "She's even gone and arranged a new teacher for etiquette, citing that Madam Cynthia was getting old and should spend her days in relaxation instead of teaching. I saw Madam Cynthia smile without warmth at the hints of her age and that she was no longer suited for a job she has done all her life." "The madam is rightly angry for what Victoria did," Cassandra commented as she inwardly wondered if the Baroness had lost her mind dismissing the woman who had taught most of the northern nobles etiquette and manners. Not to mention the madam was a patron of many families who would willingly fulfill or flatter the madam at a word. "Judging by the madam's usual behavior, the party will nevertheless be interesting." "Madam Cynthia informed me earlier that she will not be attending it anymore," Damian informed Cassandra. The boy was quite a favorite of the madam and was often given more attention by the elusive and proper madam. "That just means fewer guests at the party," Cassandra casually concluded. It was not a problem normally, but the party was thrown for a celebration with guests from the capital in attendance. Fewer attendees would not reflect well on them northerners. "Uncle will be embarrassed at the party," Denise said, crossing her arms. "In our lessons, offending people who have connections is a big no-no. How did the baroness even debut?" "Language, young lady," Cassandra said, giving her child a glance for her words. Though she agreed with the question, it was rude and not in line with what she was taught growing up. The girl was quick to put a hand to her mouth, but from the gleam in her golden eyes, she knew the other was simply not thinking of any consequences for speaking out. She had always been brave and unbending in things she believed in. Pride was etched in the depths of her bones, just like the man who fathered her. Closing her eyes for a moment, she found herself thinking more of her past. Taking a deep breath, she cleared her mind of the memories again. But it was a little difficult as things were simply pouring from the small opening on the lid she had placed on her life from before. Not now, Cassandra. She could not afford to remember her loss. Not now that things were starting to improve since she was rejected. Her children were now growing well, her family was safe, and she no longer had to keep her head low for something that was not her fault. Opening her green eyes again, she gave her child an important lecture about etiquette and how unbecoming it was for her to talk badly about someone behind their back. The girl was stubborn, but recognized the reason for her mother's lecture. She pouted as she climbed and sat at the window as a way of sulking. Seeing her sulking, Cassandra sat next to her to make sure that no harm would come to her child from where they were. With how the girl was acting, unless it was a topic she was particularly involved in or interested in, she would not be talking for at least half an hour to simmer her frustrations. "Other than the teachers and classes being cut short, what else happened?" She addressed her boy, who looked too pleased at his sister getting a tongue-lashing from their mother. "There should be something else that prompted you and your sister to come here this early." "Well, there were guests who arrived who said something unpleasant," Damian replied, his golden eyes seemingly burning with anger. "Like an uneducated lot, they said bad things about you, Mother." Cassandra was not surprised to hear something bad being attached to her. After all, the Kingdom of Ronin was traditional and quite strict about one's conduct. Arriving at eighteen with a visible pregnancy and no husband in sight, she was nevertheless a topic of gossip. She was used to it, but it was now affecting her children, which in turn became something she now had to worry about. If her cousin had not been a baron who was quite protective of her, she might have drowned in others' saliva. People here judged her as having a bad character for getting pregnant out of wedlock. And perhaps the one that irked them more was her decision not to marry and raise her children alone. In their view, she was crazy not to provide a father for children who would teach them a trade and provide protection as they grew up. Cassandra more or less understood why they thought so. She had grown up with loving parents. She knew the importance of having two parents rather than having only one. All these years, she had considered it. But she found herself not wanting to be involved, nor did she want to be bound to another role that the land required for married women. She currently liked her freedom. With a little curiosity, she asked the boy what kind of rumors they were spreading about her this time. "It was very nasty, Mother." Damian's face was creased with lines as he openly showed his disgust. He was feeling hesitant about whether he should say it or not. "Worry not about how nasty the words are. There are too many foolish gossips about me. I need to know which one ticked off your sister." The boy hesitated for a moment, his face frowning more before saying, "...they were saying you are your uncle's mistress." The boy bowed his head, not wanting to look into his mother's eyes. "...they said we are Uncle's bastards and that we are not actually related to the Williams." Cassandra blinked at the accusation. She could take being a pariah for being pregnant out of wedlock. But suggesting she had a relationship with her cousin and was not related to him—that was a first. And to be honest, she could see why they would think that way, but it was a foolish speculation. Especially claiming her children were her cousin's bastards. The Williams would never have golden-eyed or black-haired children. Their bloodline was always of red hair and steel-grey eyes, traits carried by the first Williams' rusty red fur and cold steel eyes as warrior wolves of Argum. They are people of strength and loyalty. Records in their family history narrate that their fur, when their line was still of pure werewolves, which later bled into their human hair, was dyed from the blood of their enemies and their liege. Red is a symbol of their proud line. Each child born from this lineage carries red hair. As a marker of their line, it was woven into their bloodline with a promise and magic. Even if they intermarry with other species and dilute their blood, their children will carry these traits as per the ancient spell. Black hair was for another line of the family. In their familial hierarchy, the black-haired are from the main bloodline and are the real power holders. The line who stayed with their ancient roots at the kingdom of Argum, away from humans when they were rising in power and building their society. In a kingdom that is more of a myth to humanity, they exist and live with magic and ancient vows and more. Cassandra hailed from there; she was a direct descendant of the black-haired werewolves. A pureblood who left after she was shamed. Not exiled, but left by choice. Her leaving was blessed and supported by the current head. The head made sure that she had wealth in the human kingdom to support herself and her children without burdening the Williams with her stay as she raised her children. As for golden eyes, there is only one family among the werewolves who had this trait. They don't really get along well with the black-haired wolves. There was a long history of disagreement between the two families. Only an ancient promise is what keeps the black-haired wolves from attacking the golden-eyed wolves. The mixing of their blood was foretold, but nevertheless would not happen naturally as it usually does with others in history. Their families' conflict was too big as generations passed, and the unexpected union and conception of Cassandra's twins was a breaking point. Having been through enough, leaving was a sound choice she made given her environment back then. Besides, magic had warned her of danger. And that man, too foolish and too prideful, rejected what they shared. If given a choice... should she have the option of never allowing her children to meet the man, she would be happy to do so. But there are things beyond her control; it is woven in their fate to trace their lines, and they will come to face him at some point. And when the time comes, she hopes she is ready to face what she left behind.