Chapter 38

Elara

The sound of the shower woke me first, followed by the pounding ache in my skull.

I squinted against the pale morning light filtering through the curtains, trying to piece together the fragmented memories of last night. The kitchen. The wine. Alaric standing there, silent and stoic, as I did… what, exactly?

My face burned as snippets of the night rushed back to me like a flood of regrets—grabbing his shirt, touching his ass, forcing a smile onto his face and…

“Oh, Goddess…”

My groan was muffled as I buried my face in my hands, hoping that somehow the bed would swallow me whole.

“It was just a dream,” I whispered to myself, but of course I knew it wasn’t. My headache, the faint taste of wine still lingering on my tongue, and the fact that I was now in my bed, in my pajamas, when I distinctly remembered falling asleep in the kitchen, all pointed to one horrifying truth.

Alaric had carried me to bed.

The shower stopped, and my heart leapt up into my throat. Panic surged through me as I scrambled to sit up, clutching the edge of the blanket to my chest. My head spun as I moved, but I didn’t care about my hangover. All I cared about was what I had done last night.

A few moments later, the bathroom door opened, and Alaric stepped out with a towel slung around his neck and his shirt conspicuously absent.

I froze, my eyes briefly betraying me as they flickered to his chest before darting away.

“Good morning,” I said, my voice strained and a little too high-pitched for comfort. “I… um… I wanted to apologize for last night.”

Alaric paused, his dark eyes meeting mine with an indecipherable expression. Slowly, he pulled the towel from his neck and reached for the white t-shirt that was draped over the back of a nearby chair.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he said flatly as he slipped the shirt over his head. His gruff tone, however, suggested quite the opposite.

“No, there is,” I insisted, clutching the blanket tighter against my chest and swallowing hard. “I was completely out of line. I had too much to drink, and… I just… I shouldn’t have done what I did. I’m sorry. It was a huge mistake, and I’ll never do it again.”

His jaw tightened as he slipped his arms into a crisp white button-down and began buttoning it up, effectively cutting off my view of his abs. My face heated, and I quickly looked away, biting my lip.

“Consider it forgotten,” he said curtly, his voice somehow even colder now.

The knot in my stomach tightened. Was he upset? Angry? Embarrassed? I couldn’t tell, and the way he was refusing to look at me only made it worse.

He finished buttoning his shirt, adjusting the cuffs with practiced precision. Then, without so much as a glance in my direction, he spoke again. “The auction is tonight. I’ve hired a stylist to come and help you, and the housekeeper will handle the girls. Make sure you’re ready.”

Right. The auction. I’d forgotten that it was today, and now I had a mountain of shame and a horrendous hangover to deal with before the event.

And just like that he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him before I could respond.

I slumped back against the pillows, my mortification deepening. Of course he was upset. I had made a complete and utter fool of myself. I sighed, letting my head fall back against the headboard.

Tonight was going to be a disaster.

Once I was well enough to get up, I slipped into my robe and quickly made my way downstairs. Both Grace and Alaric were blissfully nowhere to be found, and I prepared a strong cup of coffee and some buttery toast to nurse my hangover. I took my plate back to my room, not wanting to run into anyone while I was eating.

With a huff, I sat down at the small round table by the window and ate my breakfast bitterly, staring out at the gardens below. Clyde was outside this morning, tending to the vegetable patch out behind the gardens, his faded hat covering his head.

I would have rather stayed home and spent the day out there with him. Anything to avoid facing Alaric tonight.

“Good morning, Luna.” The sound of Annie’s voice broke through my wallowing as she and two other maids entered the room, carrying garment bags and boxes in their arms. “We’ve got everything you’ll need for the auction.”

Behind her, a stylist wheeled in a cart filled with hair tools, makeup, and enough products to stock a small salon.

I blinked at the sudden flurry of activity. “Oh, that’s… a lot.”

Annie smiled at me as she set the garment bag on the bed. “Wait until you see the dress. It’s stunning. You’re going to look like a queen.”

The other maids set to work unpacking the accessories while the stylist gestured for me to sit by the vanity. I hesitated, glancing at the chaos around me, but Annie practically dragged me to the chair.

“Trust me,” she said, placing her hands on my shoulders. “You’re going to look incredible.”

I sighed, allowing myself to be fussed over. The stylist worked quickly, pinning my hair into an intricate updo with delicate curls framing my face. The makeup was light but elegant, with soft gold eyeshadow and a hint of blush that brought out my cheekbones.

By the time they were done, I hardly recognized myself. But not in a bad way; I felt like a more refined version of myself.

Hell, if I tried hard enough, especially with the wooden ring still around my finger, I could picture myself as a Luna preparing for an event with my husband and not a mentally deranged woman who’d had too much to drink and had done some unspeakable things last night.

“And now time for the dress,” Annie said, unzipping the garment bag.

The gown inside was breathtaking. A deep emerald green that shimmered in the light, with an off-the-shoulder neckline and a fitted bodice that flared into a flowing skirt. Delicate silver embroidery traced along the hem and bodice in the shape of subtle flowers and vines.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered, running my fingers over the fabric.

The maids helped me into the gown, lacing up the back and adjusting the skirt until it draped perfectly. They added a pair of elbow-length gloves and a necklace with a single emerald pendant that matched the dress. When I finally looked in the mirror, I hardly recognized myself.

“Wow,” I murmured, turning to see the dress from every angle.

“You look stunning, Luna,” Annie said with a smile.

I couldn’t help but admire myself in the mirror, twirling to make my skirt swoosh around my ankles. But as I turned, a thought entered my mind, unbidden. I froze, my face going pale.

“Annie… Did anyone own this dress before me?”

She furrowed her brow. “What do you mean, Luna?”

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling silly. “I mean… The previous Luna. Sarah. Did she…?”

Annie and the other maids exchanged glances, and the room fell into an uncomfortable silence. “No,” Annie finally said, gently touching my hand. “This dress is brand new, Luna. Don’t you worry.”

“It wasn’t Sarah’s style anyway,” one of the maids added, eliciting a smack on the arm from the older maid.

I inhaled deeply and nodded, smoothing my hands over my dress. I knew that what Alaric and I had wasn’t real, but I couldn’t help but compare myself sometimes—especially after Grace had brought her up.

Sometimes, I wondered what Sarah was like. Refined? Elegant? Far better at this whole ‘Luna’ thing than I was?

She likely was all of those things. And I doubted she sat in the kitchen binge drinking wine at night to combat her negative feelings.

By the time I descended the stairs, my heart was pounding so loudly I was sure it would echo through the entire house. Alaric was waiting in the foyer, his back to me as he scrolled through something on his phone. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, his broad shoulders and sharp jawline making him look like he’d stepped out of a magazine.

But it wasn’t the Cinderella moment I’d foolishly imagined. When I reached the bottom of the staircase and stopped a few steps away, he didn’t look up. Didn’t even notice me.

I stood there awkwardly, wringing my gloved hands, unsure of what to do. Finally, he sighed, slipping his phone into his pocket before turning to face me. His dark eyes flicked over me briefly, but if he appreciated my dress, he didn’t show it.

“Let’s go,” he said simply, holding out his hand. “The car is waiting.”