Chapter 5: Mother Luna

The golden light of dawn filtered through the heavy brocade curtains of Erika’s chambers, bathing the room in warmth that felt at odds with her aching body and unsettled mind. She stirred, her eyes fluttering open as she shifted under the weight of the silken duvet. Her shoulder throbbed where Diego’s mark lay, a constant reminder of last night’s ceremony—unfinished, hollow, and far from what she had dreamed.

A soft knock broke her thoughts. The door creaked open, and a young woman in a neatly pressed gray uniform stepped inside. Her hair was pulled back in a tight braid, and she carried an air of quiet efficiency.

"Good morning, Luna," the maid said, bowing her head. "I am Astrid, your personal chambermaid. I’ve been instructed to assist you as you begin your duties here."

Erika pushed herself up slowly, the motion stiffening her sore muscles. “Thank you, Astrid. It’s… nice to meet you.” She offered a faint smile, hoping to find some companionship in the rigid structure of her new life.

Astrid nodded but did not meet Erika’s gaze. “Your wardrobe has been prepared for the season. Madam Dunia personally oversaw the selection.”

Erika glanced toward the wardrobe, its doors slightly ajar to reveal rows of exquisite dresses, each one tailored for sophistication and control. She hesitated. “They’re beautiful,” she said, though the sight filled her with unease. “It seems Dunia has planned my wardrobe for the next century.”

Astrid paused but didn’t look up. “Only the season, Luna.”

Astrid moved to the bedside, deftly laying out a pale lavender dress with delicate embroidery. It was modest yet elegant, perfectly in line with what Dunia would expect. “Shall I help you dress, Luna?”

“Please,” Erika replied, rising from the bed. As Astrid assisted her, Erika attempted conversation. “How long have you been here, Astrid?”

“Since I was a girl,” Astrid said simply, her tone neutral.

Erika studied her face in the mirror. “And do you like it here?”

Astrid paused for the briefest moment, her hands adjusting the folds of the dress. “My opinions don’t matter, Luna. I serve the household. That is all.”

Disheartened but not deterred, Erika tried again. “We don’t have to be formal, you know. Maybe we could—”

“Forgive me,” Astrid interrupted, stepping back and clasping her hands in front of her. “It’s not my place to be anything but your maid.”

The words were delivered gently but firmly, drawing a line that left Erika feeling more alone than ever. Before she could press further, Astrid straightened and said, “You’re expected in the sunroom for breakfast.”

The sunroom lived up to its name, with walls of glass framing a breathtaking view of the estate. Dunia sat poised at the head of a delicate iron table, bathed in sunlight. Her sharp eyes sparkled as she lifted her teacup, surveying Erika’s entrance.

Erika approached cautiously, offering a polite, “Good morning, Mother Luna.”

Dunia’s lips curved into a smile that could slice through glass. “Good morning, dear. Sit.” She gestured to a chair opposite her, and Erika obeyed, smoothing the skirt of her pale blue dress as she sat.

“You’ll find that mornings here begin promptly,” Dunia began, pouring tea into a delicate porcelain cup. “Diego abhors lateness, though I suppose you’ll learn that soon enough.”

Erika nodded, folding her hands in her lap. She wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or a warning.

“Sugar?” Dunia offered, lifting the ornate silver tongs.

“No, thank you,” Erika replied.

Dunia quirked a brow. “A woman who doesn’t sweeten her tea? Unusual.” She dropped two cubes into her own cup. “But then, unusual may serve you well—if tempered correctly.”

Erika bristled but maintained her composure. “I hope to meet everyone’s expectations.”

Dunia laughed lightly, a sound that carried both amusement and condescension. “Oh, my dear, expectations are an illusion. People want what they think they deserve, and they demand it from others because they can’t deliver it themselves. You’ll find this household to be no different.”

Erika blinked, unsure how to respond. Dunia’s words had the sting of truth, but she couldn’t tell if they were meant to comfort or unsettle her.

“You’ll have your hands full, of course,” Dunia continued, buttering a scone with meticulous care. “Diego is... well, let’s say, an acquired taste.”

The comment caught Erika off guard, but she chose her words carefully. “I hope to make him proud.”

Dunia’s eyes glinted, sharp as a hawk’s. “Proud? Is that your goal? To become a trophy, dusted off and admired when convenient?”

Erika flushed. “No, I just—”

Dunia raised a hand to stop her. “Spare me the blushing modesty. I don’t mean to offend. Quite the opposite. But let me be clear, my dear—you have entered a world where being pleasing is not enough. Your worth will be measured by your ability to wield influence, not just obedience.”

Erika leaned forward slightly, intrigued despite herself. “What would you have me do, Mother Luna?”

Dunia’s smile returned, enigmatic and calculating. “For now, learn. Observe. This household thrives on power plays and silent wars. The sooner you master the game, the less likely you are to become a casualty.”

The words sent a shiver down Erika’s spine. “I’ll do my best.”

Dunia set her teacup down, the porcelain clinking softly. “You must do more than your best,” Dunia said, leaning forward slightly. “You must succeed. I’ll see to that. There is no room for failure in this household.”

Erika offered a smile. She couldn’t tell if the remark was a promise or a threat, but something about Dunia’s tone felt oddly reassuring.

Dunia leaned back, her smile returning. “It’s not just about Diego, of course. The pack will look to you as a symbol of unity and grace. You must carry yourself with dignity at all times. Even in private moments, you are never truly alone. Every action you take reflects on us.”

Erika nodded, though the weight of Dunia’s expectations pressed heavily on her chest. “I’ll remember that.”

“Good,” Dunia said, reaching for a pastry. She inspected it briefly before placing it back on the tray, as if it had failed some unspoken test. “You have great potential, Erika. Don’t squander it.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so. Finish your tea, dear,” Dunia said, rising gracefully from her seat. “You’ll need your strength for the fitting. The gown must be flawless for tonight’s event at The Board’s Headquarters. It will be your first public appearance as Luna of Di Rocco House. Do not disappoint.”