Claiming His Luna

Cercei’s POV

I awoke on a serene Sunday morning, a sense of contentment permeating through my being. As the sun’s gentle rays caressed my face, a smile effortlessly etched itself on my lips. It was an unfamiliar sensation, this overwhelming enthusiasm upon waking up.

“Morning,” I greeted my mother with a tender kiss.

“Good morning, hon.”

“Morning, Auntie,” I acknowledged her briefly, stealing a delicious bite of her homemade waffle. A soft chuckle escaped her lips at my audacity.

“Mhmm,” I exclaimed appreciatively. The taste was divine, evident to her exceptional culinary skills that undoubtedly contributed to the resounding success of her café.

“You appear particularly lively today,” Mamà commented, her observant eyes assessing my buoyant demeanour.

I simply smiled, for indeed, I felt inexplicably splendid. Perhaps this was what they called waking up on the right side of the bed. Thanks to Claire, my ever-talkative buddy, I was exposed to a plethora of new phrases, although comprehending half of her lengthy speech remained an ongoing challenge.

“What are your plans for the day?” Aunt inquired, interrupting my blissful indulgence in the waffle. With a mouth still filled with fractions, I chewed hurriedly and washed it down with a sip of juice, complying to respond promptly.

“I’m not certain,” I managed to utter with a mouthful.

“Your mamà and I are planning a fun picnic. Would you care to join us?” she proposed, her suggestion enticing. However, I found myself conflicted.

“Sounds enticing, but I believe I yearn for a lone stroll today,” I responded. Mamà beamed with understanding.

“Ohh, someone has truly embraced their inner explorer,” Auntie jested, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Well, what harm could befall me on this tranquil Sunday morning?” I nonchalantly shrugged, my words laced with a touch of carefree optimism.

“Always remember to exercise caution, okay? Do not place unyielding trust in strangers, and do not hesitate to contact us should anything peculiar occur,” she gently reminded me, concerned tinging her words.

I merely nodded, my attention still captivated by the delicious feast before me, the waffles begging for further savouring.

I decided to clean the kitchen once Mamà and Auntie went on their bonding outing. With each dish carefully washed and every surface gleaming, I pondered over how to spend the rest of my day. A leisurely stroll to acquaint myself with the neighbourhood seemed like a satisfying plan. Lately, I had developed a preference for exploring outdoors, shedding the earlier fears and paranoia that Vienna’s shadows harboured men waiting in dark alleys, poised for an opportune moment. Yet, over time, it became evident that no one trailed our footsteps. While not an absolute assurance, I remained cautious, particularly when walking alone. A little indulgence every now and then wouldn’t hurt, would it?

Dressed in a sun-kissed yellow strappy dress paired with rustic brown sandals, I prettied myself for the day’s escapade. Equipped with a charming little basket, I intended to buy flowers. Aunt Melanie’s home boasted numerous empty vases, and I decided to fill them, transforming her living space into a blooming haven. With no work obligations on the weekend, this plan promised to occupy my time delightfully.

Ambling down the street, I stepped into a quaint flower shop. The vibrant array of flowers greeted my senses, each variety boasting an explosion of colours. Such profusion of nature’s beauty rarely appeared on the grounds of that grand mansion, where pristine white roses reigned supreme.

The elderly owner handed me a sunflower, her wrinkled face alight with a gentle smile.

“This will complement your dress perfectly,” she offered. I reciprocated her gesture with gratitude, accepting the vibrant flower.

“You’re right, it does. Thank you,” I chuckled softly, charmed by the whimsical luck.

“Allow me to offer you something as well,” an unfamiliar voice interjected, extending a red rose towards me. Turning towards the intruder, my smile faded as I saw Lucian. Clad in a casual outfit of a white button-down polo shirt and khaki shorts, his messy hair infused him with an air of ease and informality, a striking difference from his usual squeaky-clean and formal appearance.

“My Paolo used to give me roses,” the elderly woman reminisced her romantic fervour, her eyes sparkling as she remembered the cherished memories. Lucian’s smile persisted while my gaze sharpened into a glare.

“Are you following me?” I spat, suspicion lacing my words.

“I happened to saw you while I was passing by,” he responded defensively. I raised a doubtful eyebrow, sceptical of the honesty of his claim.

“Do you truly expect me to believe that you coincidentally stumbled on my street?” I retorted, my voice dripping with scepticism.NôvelDrama.Org exclusive content.

“Congratulations on owning the streets now!” he replied, his tone tinged with sarcasm. Rolling my eyes at his snarky remark, I dismissed him with a curt gesture.

Without meaning to sound conceited or anything of the sort, it was becoming increasingly evident that Lucian was indeed trailing my every step. A regular fixture in the café, and now inexplicably present here. What were the odds?

Choosing to disregard his unwelcome presence, I focused my attention on selecting the perfect flowers. Contemplating what would complement Aunt Melanie’s vibrant interior, I reasoned that an input of brightly coloured flowers would suffuse the space with a lively ambiance.

However, Lucian’s overpowering aura persisted, his dominating presence noticeable even from behind. Unable to contain my exasperation any longer, I turned to face him directly.

“Why are you still here?” I demanded, unbelieving at his audacity. His unembarrassed stares and lack of shame began grating on my nerves.

“I’m also buying flowers,” he offered, feigning interest as he pretended to inhale the delicate fragrance of one.

With a weary sigh, I realised that my hopes for a pleasant day had swiftly dissipated. Swiftly gathering the most vibrant flowers within reach, I hastily paid for them, eager to put distance between myself and Lucian’s disturbing presence.

Much to my chagrin, he appeared to panic on witnessing my departure, abandoning the flowers he had intended to buy in his haste to catch up with me.

“Why do you persist in following me?” I snapped, annoyance lacing my tone.

“Look, all I want is to get to know you,” he pleaded, a hint of vulnerability seeping into his words.

“Well, I have no desire to waste my precious time engaging in conversation with you,” I declared firmly, striding away with purpose. Yet, to my dismay, he resumed his pursuit, eagerly trailing in my path.

“Leave me alone. I want to enjoy the rest of the day, but your constant trailing behind me is ruining my mood,” I retorted, my tone heavy with harshness.

“Please, don’t be angry. I simply wish to know you,” he pleaded. His words struck a chord, and I halted my steps, captivated by the sincerity reflected in his eyes. A passion burning within him was so intense that it almost swayed me.

“For what?” I inquired, my curiosity piqued. Why did he feel compelled to know me? Was there something about me that held an undiscovered allure?

“Just because…” he hesitated, leaving his words hanging in the air.

Just because what? I yearned to demand an explanation, but I swallowed the impulse.

“I have no idea what twisted game you’re playing right now!” I finally mustered the courage to utter.

“I’m not playing any games. I merely want to acquaint myself with you. Don’t you feel the same? I mean, after what happened between us in that cabin, aren’t you even the least bit curious about me?” he casually remarked. My face flushed crimson as he mentioned that fateful night. He had the audacity to smirk at my visible reaction.

“Aww, I wonder how your fiancée would react upon discovering that we shared a night together,” I retorted defiantly.

“The wedding has been called off. There is no wedding. I am single,” he explained promptly.

“So?” I responded dismissively, feigning indifference.

“I made a mistake. I believed it was Vienna I was with that night. If only I had known it was you…” his voice trailed off.

“What happened between us was a mistake. You bear no responsibility towards me after what occurred,” I asserted, determined not to let my status as a virgin instigate any sense of obligation from him.

“A mistake?” he sounded offended. Taking a step closer, he leaned in, causing my breath to hitch. His hot, minty breath wafted tantalisingly close to my face, our nearness electrifying.

“It didn’t feel like a mistake, and you know it,” he asserted, brimming with sincere confidence.

I couldn’t help but wonder who had nurtured his ego to such heights, shaping him into this audacious and relentless being.

Attempting to push him away, I exerted force, only to realise he remained rooted, akin to an unyielding wall. His gaze dropped to my lips, and my heart quickened its beat, a surge of heat shrouding me. It wasn’t just his alluring fragrance; it was something more, something that ignited a flutter inside me.

Lost in my own romantic musings, he abruptly straightened himself, causing me to snap back to reality. Embarrassed by my flushed state, I hastily composed myself. Goodness, I must appear utterly flustered.

“Come, let me take you to lunch,” he declared, seizing my hand. Unbeknownst to myself, I allowed him to lead me, swayed by a force beyond my grasp.