The Blood Moon Dynasty

Beneath the Same Moon

Royal banquets had always fascinated me.

Not because of the music or the endless display of wealth Ashthorne had hosted enough celebrations for such things to lose their novelty years ago but because a banquet revealed far more than a council meeting ever could.

Around a table, rulers laughed more easily, lowered their guard without realizing it, and sometimes said the very things they had sworn to keep hidden.

Father once told me that wars were often prevented over dinner...or quietly planned during one.

The Great Hall had never looked more magnificent.

Moonstone chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, their pale light washing over polished marble and banners representing the Seven Great Packs.

Long tables stretched from one end of the hall to the other, dressed in white linen embroidered with silver thread. Crystal goblets reflected the dancing flames of hundreds of candles, while musicians seated upon the eastern gallery filled the air with melodies so soft they never interrupted conversation.

Everything had been arranged perfectly.

I stood beside Mother as nobles drifted through the hall exchanging greetings polished by generations of royal etiquette. The air carried the scent of roasted pheasant, honeyed wine, fresh herbs and cedarwood burning in the great fireplaces.

"Smile," Mother murmured without looking at me.

"I am."

"A genuine one."

"I'll try to find one."

That earned me the smallest glance.

"You sound like your grandmother."

"I've been told that twice today."

"I imagine it won't be the last."

A servant announced the arrival of another delegation, and conversations shifted toward the entrance.

The rulers of the northern territories entered first, followed by their heirs and advisers.

Then...the Hall seemed to grow quieter.

King Kael entered beside his council, dressed in black formal robes trimmed with silver embroidery that caught the candlelight whenever he moved.

He wore only the silver circlet of his kingdom.

Strange.

Among so many rulers trying to appear important, he was perhaps the only one who didn't seem interested in proving he was.

Father stepped forward to welcome him.

They exchanged a greeting I couldn't hear from where I stood. Just two kings acknowledging one another.

Lady Miriam had once told me that truly powerful people rarely needed to announce themselves.

Watching him cross the hall...

I finally understood what she meant.

"You've been staring."

My younger cousin, Elias, appeared beside me carrying two pastries he had almost certainly stolen from the dessert table.

"I have not."

"You have."

He offered me one.

I accepted it before anyone noticed.

"You've looked in his direction at least six times."

"I was observing our guest."

"You observed him six times."

"I wasn't counting."

"I was."

I sighed.

"Go bother someone your own age."

"I am bothering someone my own age."

Before I could think of a suitable reply, the musicians changed melodies.

The first dance of the evening.

Couples gradually made their way toward the centre of the hall while conversations softened around them. I remained where I was, perfectly content to watch from a safe distance.

Dancing had never troubled me, being watched while dancing certainly did.

My attention drifted across the room once more. King Kael wasn't watching the dancers.

He wasn't speaking.

Instead, he stood near one of the tall windows overlooking the palace gardens, listening as an elderly lord spoke animatedly about something I couldn't hear.

He listened without interruption, without impatience.

Only when the man finished did Kael answer.

The older lord bowed his head respectfully before walking away.It struck me then that I hadn't seen Kael raise his voice once since his arrival.

The hall erupted in sudden laughter from the western table.

A group of young nobles had gathered around one of the visiting princes, cheering as servants hurried to refill empty goblets.

For a brief moment, everything felt almost ordinary.

Then it happened.

One of the younger palace servants emerged from the kitchens carrying a large silver tray crowded with crystal goblets filled to the brim with dark red wine. He couldn't have been more than sixteen.

Someone stepped backwards without looking.

Their shoulders collided,time seemed to hesitate and the tray tipped.Crystal scattered through the air.

Several guests recoiled instinctively, chairs scraping sharply against the marble floor.

Near the royal table, Prince Adrian, only eight years old, stood frozen, staring at the glittering shards sliding across the floor toward him.

Before the nearest guard reached him...a shadow crossed the polished marble.

King Kael moved.

One moment he stood across the hall. The next, he had reached the young prince.

His hand rested briefly against the boy's shoulder, guiding him a single step backwards.

A crystal goblet struck the floor exactly where the child had been standing.

It shattered into dozens of glittering fragments.

Wine spread across the marble like spilled rubies.Silence settled over the hall.

The young servant had gone completely pale.

His hands trembled as he looked from the broken crystal to the gathered rulers.

"I... Your Majesty... I..."

He couldn't finish.

Kael looked at the servant.

"Is anyone hurt?"

The boy shook his head so quickly it seemed painful.

"No, Your Majesty."

Kael glanced once around the hall, making certain the child beside him was unharmed.

Only then did he step away.

"Clean it before someone slips."

Nothing more.

He returned to his place as though the interruption had been no more significant than a gust of wind through an open window.

Around the hall, conversations resumed slowly but they didn't sound quite the same.

I found myself watching the servant instead.

His hands were still shaking as other attendants helped him gather the shattered crystal.

When he finally dared to look up again, his eyes followed the King of Draven with unmistakable relief.

The stories had called Kael ruthless.

None of them had mentioned mercy.

And somehow...

I couldn't stop thinking about that.

. . .

The banquet gradually settled into its own rhythm after the commotion. Musicians resumed their melody, servants replaced the broken crystal as though nothing had happened, and conversations flowed once more beneath the glow of the moonstone chandeliers.

Royal courts had always possessed a remarkable talent for pretending unpleasant moments had never existed.

I slipped away from Mother's side while she spoke with the Queen of Norwyn, weaving carefully through clusters of nobles. Every corner of the Great Hall seemed occupied by rulers discussing alliances, generals debating borders, and young heirs introducing themselves with smiles polished by years of etiquette.

Then I saw her.

Princess Seraphine of Valeris.

She stood near one of the arched windows overlooking the eastern gardens, surrounded by four other princesses whose laughter drifted easily through the air. Her gown was the colour of deep emerald silk, embroidered with silver vines that shimmered each time she moved. Dark hair, braided with tiny pearls, fell over one shoulder, and a delicate sapphire rested at the hollow of her throat.

She was beautiful.

Painfully so.

The last time I had seen her, we had both been children attending the previous Gathering. We'd spent an afternoon chasing white butterflies through the palace gardens before our tutors dragged us back inside. I had remembered her kindness.

Or perhaps...I had remembered the version of her I wanted to remember.

When her eyes met mine, a graceful smile spread across her face.

"Aurelia."

There was warmth in her voice.

Enough to make me smile back.

"Seraphine. It's been years."

"It has." She looked me over briefly. "You've changed."

"I hope that's a good thing."

"We'll see."

The answer made one of the other princesses laugh quietly.

I told myself I had imagined the sharpness hidden beneath Seraphine's smile.

"It's good to see you again," I said honestly.

"And you."

She gestured toward the circle.

"We were discussing the Blood Moon Ceremony. Join us."

Relief settled quietly inside me.

Perhaps I had worried for nothing, I stepped into the conversation.

Princess Celeste of Aramor greeted me politely, while Princess Elira of Frostmere inclined her head with a reserved smile. Introductions were exchanged with those I hadn't met before, and for several minutes the discussion remained pleasantly ordinary.

They spoke about the long journeys from their kingdoms, the upcoming hunts, and the endless fittings required for the ceremonial ball.

I even laughed once.

Then Seraphine lifted her crystal goblet.

"I've heard this year's Awakening Ceremony will be particularly memorable."

Princess Celeste nodded eagerly.

"My wolf has been restless for weeks."

"So has mine," another admitted. "The elders say it's because the Blood Moon is near."

Seraphine smiled.

"The bond between wolf and soul has always fascinated me."

She swirled the wine in her goblet before looking directly at me.

"Wouldn't you agree, Aurelia?"

The question arrived so smoothly that I answered before thinking.

"I suppose it would...if I had experienced it."

The silence that followed was almost elegant.

Seraphine's smile remained exactly where it was.

"Of course."

She spoke so softly that anyone passing by would have mistaken her tone for sympathy.

"I'd forgotten."

No.

She hadn't, she had remembered perfectly.

Princess Elira lowered her eyes to her goblet.

Princess Celeste shifted her weight but remained silent.

"I've often wondered," Seraphine continued, "how strange it must be."

"What must be?"

"Watching everyone else transform while you...wait."

I held her gaze.

"I've learned patience."

"Have you?"

She tilted her head ever so slightly.

"I imagine patience becomes easier when one has no other choice."

A quiet laugh escaped one of the princesses.

It was quickly hidden behind a sip of wine.

"I don't mind waiting," I replied.

"I'm sure you don't."

Her smile widened by the smallest fraction.

"Although nineteen years is rather a long wait, isn't it?"

The words landed with surprising precision not loud enough to draw attention but sharp enough to wound.

I could feel eyes drifting toward us from nearby conversations.

Seraphine took another graceful sip of wine.

"I do admire your optimism."

"I wasn't aware it required admiration."

"Oh, it does." She studied me with unsettling calm. "Most people would have accepted what the Moon Goddess was trying to tell them by now."

"And what is that?"

"That not everyone is meant to become remarkable."

The words settled between us, no one challenged them, ot one princess.

Not one noblewoman passing nearby. I looked around the small circle.

These were daughters of kings and queens, girls raised to speak of honour, loyalty, and dignity.

Yet every one of them found the marble floor, the chandeliers, or their own goblets far more interesting than the conversation unfolding before them.

I had walked over hoping to make friends but instead, I had become entertainment.

I looked back at Seraphine.

For the first time, I noticed there was nothing warm about her smile.

It was flawless and empty.

"I hope," I said quietly, smoothing an invisible crease from my sleeve, "that when your mate finds you, he values kindness as much as beauty."

For the briefest instant, her expression didn't change.

But something in her eyes cooled.

"I'll remember that," she replied.

"I'm sure you will."

I inclined my head to the group with all the grace Lady Miriam had spent years drilling into me.

"Enjoy the rest of the evening."

No one asked me to stay.

As I walked away, their conversation resumed behind me, followed by light laughter that echoed far louder in my ears than the music filling the Great Hall.

I kept my pace steady.

A princess did not run, a princess did not cry in the middle of a royal banquet.

A princess remembered that every corridor in a palace had eyes.

So I lifted my chin, fixed my gaze ahead, and walked through the glittering hall as though my heart hadn't just been placed on a silver platter for everyone to examine.