THE PROMISED LUNA

GUILTY OF WEAKNESS

James stormed from the grand ceremonial hall, his heart a chamber of pain, fear, and disappointment. “No… no… no, this can't be possible,” he muttered under his breath, his mind racing. “This can't happen. It was supposed to be fair it can't happen in my turn as king.

“She was supposed to transform as usual.” His steps were frantic, his eyes wild as he paced in the sanctuary of his quarters, his thoughts spiraling. The walls seemed to close in on him as he pondered with the catastrophic failure of the ritual that had just transpired.

A sudden knock on the door jolted him from his thinking. “Come in,” James called out, his voice filled with pain.

Manuel, his trusted advisor and hand, entered and immediately bowed deeply. “I am sorry, my lord, for the disappointment,” Manuel said, his tone a mixture of sorrow and unease. “This has never happened since the formation of our faction. It is indeed a disgrace to the crown.” He rubbed his hands together, a nervous habit, as he watched James pace back and forth.

James turned to him, desperation written on his face. “Can we repeat the ritual tomorrow?”

Manuel shook his head solemnly. “I am sorry, we cannot. The full blood moon comes only once in a century.”

“So, does this mean I won't bear children for the next generation?” James's voice wavered, the implications of the failure sinking in.

“I do not know, my king, but there is something that can be done,” Manuel offered hesitantly.

“No, I don’t care about alternatives. We need to redo that ritual. Betty is the rightful person to be my queen. The prophecy says she is the one, and she will remain so,” James insisted, his voice rising with urgency.

Manuel took a step closer, his expression serious. “My king, consider this: what does that make of you?”

“You are my hand,” James responded, eyes narrowing.

“Yes, as your hand, I must tell you the truth. This does not make you a strong Alpha king,” Manuel said, his voice firm.

James was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“The people will be suspicious. Look at it this way: if you try to redo the ritual, the council won’t accept it. And if you rebel against the council, you will turn your people against you. Do you want that?” Manuel’s eyes locked onto James’s, his gaze unflinching.

James fell silent, the weight of Manuel’s words sinking in. The sole reason he wanted to redo the ritual was his profound love for Betty. The thought of Betty not being the Luna queen tore at him. He couldn’t bear to do this in secret, yet the alternative seemed equally unbearable. He sank into his throne, staring blankly at the vent above, wishing he was never king.

But as the Alpha, he had to prioritize the well-being of his people over his own feelings. The traditions set by the council were clear: a failed Luna queen must be cast out and banished from Crando, destined to live in pain and suffering. How could he do that to Betty? She was his life. To cast her out would be to kill a part of himself. There must be another way, he thought desperately.

“There must be another way,” James said aloud, looking into Manuel’s eyes. Manuel, who had poured himself a glass of wine, shook his head sadly.

“I am afraid not, my king. The Luna must go. You have to choose another Luna, different from the one you chose. That is what the custom demands.”

“You must show the people that they can fear you, that failure is not tolerated, and no weak person is allowed through the faction,” Manuel said firmly.

James sat there, confused and in pain. How could he do this to the love of his life?

Meanwhile, in a low lit chamber, Betty wept, her heart heavy with the knowledge of the traditions she had accepted when she agreed to become the future Luna. She had always known the risk, but love had blinded her to the harsh realities. Now, she faced the unimaginable consequence of failing the ritual, and she could no longer be with James.

As she wept, a group of werewolf soldiers entered her chamber. They placed cold, heavy handcuffs and chains around her wrists and neck, their faces stoic and unyielding. Betty’s sobs echoed in the room as they escorted her to the court of the king for proper judgment.

THE COURT ORDER

As Betty moved through the crowded streets of Crando, a hostile mob surrounded her, throwing rotten fruit and any dirty objects they could find. The soldiers flanked her on all sides, their presence a shield against the fury of the people. Betty's once proud demeanor had crumbled; she now looked every bit the defeated figure she felt inside.

The bell tolled ominously with each step she took. "Shame, shame, shame," the crowd chanted in unison, their voices a relentless tide of condemnation. Each clang of the bell was a reminder of her disgrace, echoing through the narrow streets and seeping into her bones. The soldiers kept a close watch, ensuring the crowd's anger didn’t escalate into outright violence, their hands never straying far from their weapons.

Betty's crime was unprecedented in the kingdom. The Luna, a figure expected to transform and lead, had failed in a way no one had anticipated. Rumors had spread like wildfire, branding her an abomination. "An abomination has no place among us," they sang with a venomous fervor, convinced that the king would pass his harsh judgment swiftly and without mercy.

By the time Betty reached the grand entrance of the House of the Throne, her clothes were ragged and torn, hanging off her like the remnants of her dignity. She looked like a woman cast aside by fate, her spirit as tattered as her garments. Inside the hall, the atmosphere was heavy with anticipation. The nobles and commoners alike had gathered, their eyes fixed on the spectacle unfolding before them.

King James sat on his ornate throne, his face a mask of stoic resolve. His eyes, however, betrayed his inner turmoil as he watched Betty, her eyes red and swollen from hours of weeping. His heart ached at the sight of her misery, but duty weighed heavily on his shoulders. He had to remain strong for his people, even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness.

The silence in the hall was deafening as the court awaited James’s decision. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the hardest choice he would ever make. Moments stretched into an eternity before he finally spoke, his voice echoing in the grand chamber. "The Crown has found you, Betty, guilty of weakness."

Betty's shoulders slumped further, her fate sealed by the one person she had hoped would save her. James continued, his words cutting through the air like a blade. "You are hereby sentenced to exile. Never shall you set foot in Crando again. You will live out your days in pain and misery."

The hall erupted in jubilation, the people cheering the judgment passed down by their new king. "All hail the king! All hail his majesty!" they chanted, their voices filled with triumph. But as James descended from his throne and retreated to his chambers, his heart was heavy with sorrow.

Once inside the privacy of his chambers, James's composure shattered. He paced the room, his hands trembling uncontrollably. "I can't do it, I can't do it," he muttered to himself, his voice breaking. In a desperate attempt to calm his nerves, he poured himself a glass of wine, but it did little to ease his turmoil.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. It was Manuel, his trusted advisor. "You shouldn't be here," Manuel said, his voice filled with concern.

James looked up, his eyes filled with despair. "But I can't do it, my mind can't do it."

Manuel frowned. "She is just a Luna, my king. What is so special about her?"

James stared at Manuel, struggling to suppress the truth that threatened to spill from his lips. He had a secret relationship with Betty, a love so deep that it tore him apart to see her suffer. But he couldn't reveal his feelings; he didn't know what the consequences would be or what Manuel might do if he found out.

After a long, agonizing pause, James mustered the courage to return to the palace. As he stood before the court again, he couldn't meet Betty's eyes. Her pain was too much to bear, and any show of emotion could raise suspicion.

"The Crown has found you, Betty, guilty of weakness," he repeated, his voice void of the emotion that raged within him. "And you are hereby sentenced to exile. You are never to set foot in Crando again. You will live out your life in pain and misery."

The crowd's jubilation was deafening, a stark contrast to the king's inner despair. As the people celebrated, James retreated to his chambers once more, his head bowed in anguish, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.