The Ambition

Her Majesty arched a single brow, her blood-stained lips curling slightly in distress as she turned her attention to the man before her. With an air of impatient authority, she addressed her steadfast royal bodyguard—the one sworn to execute her every decree without even a single question.

"What is it?" she inquired, her voice laced with too little curiosity.

The man with dark grey hair muttered under his breath, his voice scarcely more than a whisper yet heavy with disbelief. "Have you finally gone mad?" His gaze fixated on the girl before him—her form bathed in blood; delicate fingers still curled around the severed head of her latest victim.

Meanwhile, Her Majesty released a slow, measured sigh, fully understanding the weight behind his words. It was not a question of sanity—it was a question of intent.

Luna responded with a serene indifference, and her voice carried an air of nonchalance, "What's all the commotion for? It's nothing more than a little extra work—nothing of consequence."

With an effortless flick of her wrist, she discarded the severed head as if it were mere refuse. As Wendy stepped forward, offering a pristine towel, Luna accepted it without hesitation and dabbed away the blood splatters off her hands with an air of practiced ease.

Luna's voice rang with unwavering authority as she issued her command, "Nick! Ensure these heads are delivered to the coven as their final warning against interfering with what is mine. And assist Wendy in cleaning up this mess." Her tone left no room for argument.

With that directive, she turned on her heel and strode out of the chamber, now saturated with blood and permeated by the pungent odor of death. Behind her, the remnants of more than ten brutally tortured bodies lay strewn about- bearing silent testimony to her merciless reign.

"Luna!"

The man with the grey locks called out to her urgently, his voice echoing through the opulent halls adorned with intricate tapestries woven in shades of golden thread, depicting scenes of valor and triumph. As she ascended the staircase, the walls were adorned with grand paintings framed in rich crimson and royal blue, adding depth and grandeur to the regal atmosphere.

She traversed the regal corridor, where the walls were adorned with golden sconces holding flickering torches and were casting warm hues of light against the crimson and royal blue wallpaper embellished with delicate floral patterns in intricate detail. The carpets beneath her feet were plush and soft, woven in patterns reminiscent of blooming gardens, in crimson and royal blue hues, complementing the grandeur of her surroundings.

Eventually, she reached the grand staircase leading to her chambers, its balustrades crafted from polished mahogany adorned with golden accents that shimmered in the torchlight. The steps themselves were covered in luxurious carpeting, a rich tapestry of crimson and royal blue woven with golden threads depicting intricate floral motifs, adding a touch of elegance to her ascent.

With each graceful step, she moved closer to the sanctity of her room while the man, with his anxiety palpable, trailed after her amidst the lavish surroundings of the opulence and grandeur of her royal domain.

"Harry, let's not make this any more complicated than it already is," Luna murmured, exhaustion lacing her voice. "Right now, I'm the one bearing the brunt of all this. Let's end it here for today, or if you insist, we can continue this conversation after I've rid myself of these blood-soaked clothes." With a weary sigh, she came to a stop just outside her bedroom with her patience waning.

"I'm not done with this conversation," Harry muttered, his tone edged with irritation. "We'll pick this up once you've changed. Until then." Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Luna to exhale a long, exasperated sigh before stepping into the sanctuary of her room.

~><~*~><~

Luna found herself teetering between irritation and sheer exasperation, yet she recognized the necessity of the impending discussion.

From her throne within the castle, she cast her gaze upon the discontented figure of Harry, his grumbling echoing faintly through the dimly lit halls. The walls, swathed in a deep wine hue, bore witness to the opulent glow of golden chandeliers suspended from the lofty ceilings, adding an air of regal splendor to the surroundings.

Within the confines of her mind, Luna's castle remained a bastion of magnificence, a testament to her regal stature. However, to the outside world, its external façade remained unassuming, concealing the grandeur and majesty that lay within.

Besides, the castle was already concealed from ordinary eyes.

And so, no one could dare to ever find it.

"What would you have me do then? You know there's no alternative," Luna stated firmly, regarding Harry with a steady gaze.

Harry exhaled a long, weary sigh, dragging a hand across his forehead as frustration weighed on him. When he finally spoke, his voice was laced with concern.

"Listen, I'm just concerned," he admitted, his gaze steady on Luna.

"I understand that Lunasia is imprisoned within you and that you—her werewolf persona—have surfaced to assert dominance over the world in her absence. But don't forget Luna… she won't stay buried forever. No, she will return. I've been making progress in breaking the seals, though difficult as it may be—after all, they were placed upon you by the Head Deity. However, she may regain control far sooner than you anticipate... as she has already managed to shatter two of the four seals all by herself."

Harry paused to sigh again before continuing, "What I'm trying to convey is that... she won't approve of what you're doing now. And yet, all you're doing is recklessly throwing caution to the wind and carelessly letting everything spiral out of control."

Luna released a tired sigh, lazily swirling the wine in her glass as she reclined against the grandeur of her throne. Dressed in a casual yet commanding ensemble—a gray button-up shirt, black jeans, and matching sneakers—she exuded an effortless confidence. Atop her head sat a black crown adorned with glistening red and golden jewels, a striking contrast to her otherwise understated attire, yet a perfect emblem of her rule.

Another sigh slipped past her lips, the weight of her thoughts evident as she finally spoke, her voice laced with frustration.

"Tell me, who claims that I'm being reckless and careless when every step I've taken has been a calculated effort to bring my ambition to life?"

Harry's expression was etched with discontentment at her question. Uncertain of the true intent behind her words, he pressed for clarity, his voice edged with curiosity and doubt as he asked, "What?"

Luna locked her gaze on Harry before she stated, "Despite the bond we've shared since birth, I can't help but despise her for her sheer heartlessness," Luna admitted, her voice laced with bitterness as she added, "All I want is to spend a few days with Elliot while he's unwell, yet even as I yearn for her return—if only to rid myself of the crushing weight resting upon my shoulders that rightfully belongs to her to carry—I know all too well how she'll treat our mate. And to make matters worse with utter complexity, she won't even grant me the smallest moment of control to mend the damage she so will mercilessly inflict by staining every situation with her cold-blooded ways."

With a weary sigh, Luna lifted her glass to her lips, taking a slow sip of wine and letting the taste linger as her words hung in the air.

Harry's brows knit together in concern as he removed his golden-rimmed glasses with a brief pause before he finally spoke with his tone laced with caution and anxiety, "Mate? Do you truly believe it's wise to forge such a bond with him when he could be the catalyst for your demise?"

Luna took another slow sip of her drink, the rich flavor lingering on her tongue before she finally responded, a small, knowing grin playing on her lips.

"Absolutely," she said with quiet confidence. "Lunasia's instinct would be to imprison him, to keep him bound against his will. But I have a different approach—I intend to forge a connection so deep that he won't even think of running away like the little rabbit he is. Even when Lunasia inevitably lets him down, I want his thoughts to linger on me. And to accomplish that… I must draw even closer."

Harry released a frustrated sigh, acknowledging one undeniable truth: he couldn't deter Luna. Moreover, he shouldn't attempt to, for she was correct in her strategy of establishing proximity to influence that child.

"Very well," Harry relented, his voice laced with determination. "But on one condition. I'll enroll alongside you at his university. Even you, with your werewolf persona, possess a temper as formidable as Lunasia's. I must be there to ensure it remains in check."

Luna's smirk widened as she raised her glass to her lips once more before responding, "Agreed."

Harry, still harboring doubts about their presence at the university, weighed the burden of their royal status in his mind. While he acknowledged that it could potentially complicate matters, he remained confident in his ability to navigate such challenges. It was the additional workload that gnawed at his resolve, a source of frustration born from the disdain for tasks that could have easily been circumvented.

The prospect of unnecessary labor grated against his sensibilities, a testament to his aversion to inefficiency. It was not the challenge itself that daunted him but rather the prospect of expending precious energy on endeavors that he deemed avoidable.

Harry let out a soft snicker with amusement dancing in his eyes as he regarded her.

"With your personality and age, you'd look like nothing less than a seasick crocodile trying to survive university life. I can already picture it—struggling to endure and feeling miserable after being stuck in one place for too long."

Harry's biting remark caught Luna off guard, causing her to pause mid-sip, her wine momentarily forgotten.

"Really?" She countered, her tone edged with a mixture of surprise and defiance. "And what about you, then?

With those antiquated glasses perched upon your nose, you'd look less like a university student and, instead, resemble a horse in dire need of a gallop. How Lunasia tolerated that ridiculous frame of yours without losing her temper is beyond me."

A gasp of disbelief escaped Harry's lips; with his sense of betrayal palpable.

"And what of my spectacles?!" He retorted, his voice tinged with a mixture of hurt and indignation. "So, what if they're tethered by chains? At least I remember to wear them, unlike a certain individual who forgets to wear her very crown. Every single day."

Luna let out a derisive snort before retorting, "Harry, do us all a favor and cease your prattle. Engaging in arguments with you is akin to regressing into childhood."

Harry, caught off guard by Luna's retort, cleared his throat awkwardly before responding, "Well then, let's both hold our tongues, shall we? Seems a cat has made off with yours." Luna's reaction was one of stunned disbelief, her mouth hanging open in a silent protest as if Harry had suddenly morphed into someone else entirely.

Yet, beneath her casual exasperation, Luna recognized Harry's frustration stemmed from the burdensome workload she could have sidestepped had she heeded his advice.

With a resigned shake of her head and a heavy sigh, Luna decided to abandon the discussion, understanding that prolonging it would only exacerbate tensions in the form of childish arguments.