Claiming His Luna

Maria’s POV

“Would you like to have some fun?” I vivaciously proposed.

“Are you behaving like a five-year-old?” He retorted grumpily, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead. I couldn’t help but pout in response.

“Oh, dear, it seems like you’re in a grumpy mood. Are you on your period?” I teased him, a mischievous glint in my eye. He simply ignored my remark and continued driving.

Currently, we were en route to the barracks to get some weapons. Lucian had asked Frank to fetch and inspect them personally, so I decided to go along. However, Frank wasn’t exactly happy about my presence, stating that it wasn’t a place for a woman. Well, excuse me, Mister, but that’s rather a sexist sentiment, isn’t it? Is there only one designated place for women? Perhaps you’ll suggest women should only be in the kitchen, right?

Just kidding; I know his intention. Frank has a protective nature, and he cares for me. Here I am again, being delusional and drowning myself in daydreaming about silly scenarios that could make me end up crying into a glass of tequila.

“Come now, let’s have some fun; you’re dreadfully dull,” I urged him again.

“I explicitly instructed you to stay at the mansion, but you’re stubborn,” he snapped back. I pouted even more. Does he even understand what fun means?

“I wanted to be with you,” I said, briskly wiggling my eyebrows. He pursed his lips sternly.

“You’re attempting to suppress your smile,” I declared, pointing at his lips. I couldn’t help but smile foolishly myself.

A furrow appeared on his brow. “You’re utterly conceited,” he commented, but the smile on my face refused to fade.

“You’re in complete denial,” I taunted, and to my surprise, a faint smile formed on his face. It confuses me why he always keeps this serious, stoic expression when his smile is truly stunning. I can’t imagine a more captivating sight.

Heavens, I sound utterly smitten. My father would surely disown me. Ah, well, he already has.

“How about we play a game of truth or dare?” I proposed cheekily.

“Would that finally make you stop talking?” he quipped.

“How can we play if I remain silent?” I responded sarcastically.

“Tsc.” He smirked in response.

“Alright, I’ll start first,” I said with excitement.

“Truth or dare?” I asked with enthusiasm.

“Truth,” He responded calmly. That was quick, Frankie. You must really want me to know you better.

“What’s your full name?” I suddenly realised how little I knew about his identity; all I knew was that he was Frank and worked as a butler.

“Frank Aeign Seymour,” he revealed casually.

“Aeign? I had no idea,” I exclaimed, genuinely surprised.Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

“Obviously,” he retorted sarcastically, causing me to roll my eyes.

“Aeign, it’s rather charming. I think I’ll start calling you that,” I teased, letting out a naughty giggle.

“No one addresses me by my second name,” he emphasised.

“I will,” I replied with a hint of defiance.

“My turn, my turn; ask me something,” I said, eagerly pointing at myself. He let out an annoyed sigh.

“Truth or dare,” he asked, clearly uninterested.

“Truth,” I grinned, ready for his inquiry.

“Why didn’t you leave after Lucian granted you freedom?” he asked curiously.

Ah, freedom. I had obtained it when I left my father’s castle and turned my back on the throne. It wasn’t Monsieur or Lucian who held me captive; my freedom was in my own hands. I could have escaped from MoonStone mansion long ago if I had wanted to.

“I simply didn’t want to,” I replied casually. He stared at me momentarily before turning his attention back to the road.

“Now, my turn. Truth or dare?” I asked.

“Truth,” he responded.

“Hmm,” I pondered, considering my question.

“Do you enjoy being a butler?” I inquired with genuine curiosity.

“Yes,” he replied briefly.

“Why?” I inquired further, eager to understand.

He glanced at me in silence.

“Do you really need a reason?” he asked with boredom.

“Of course! We’re playing truth or dare,” I retorted, pouting vivaciously at him.

He let out a sigh and finally revealed, “It’s because my ancestors have served the Reds for centuries. Continuing our family’s legacy is both an honor and a responsibility.”

Wow, his family’s connection to the Reds spans generations. That’s profound, bro. It means his ancestors have been butlers for generations, perhaps even reaching back to his great, great, great, great, great-grandfather.

Back when I was still at home, I learned everything about the lineage and history of every alpha. It was my duty to know about all the great leaders, not just the current ones but also those from the past. I was aware that the Seymour line had a strong connection with the Reds, but I never imagined it would still continue to this day.

“Truth or dare?” he asked, and I couldn’t help but smile. He finally understood the flow of the game.

“Truth,” I replied, though I felt a hint of unease underneath.

“Where did you learn archery?” he asked, and my smile quickly faded. Perhaps this game wasn’t such a good idea after all. I couldn’t answer any of his questions without revealing parts of my past. He glanced at me as I hesitated to respond.

“It’s called truth for a reason,” he stated matter-of-factly, waiting for my revelation.

“My father taught me,” I responded, my answer not entirely untrue but not completely truthful either.

“He was a skilled marksman. I believe I’ve inherited his talent,” I added, attempting to maintain an air of nonchalance. Memories flooded my mind of when my father and I were inseparable, training with bows and arrows. He affectionately called me Hawkeye. Despite all the places and experiences I’ve encountered, thoughts of home still brought a tear to my eye.

I found myself thinking about how life would have been if I hadn’t left. I felt regret as I acknowledged that I had been a coward, overwhelmed by the weight of expectations. My curiosity about the world beyond our kingdom led me to risk out, aiming for knowledge and experiences far from home.

And so, I learned much, but now I grappled with the uncertainty of whether my actions had made me a rightful leader. I left my father and brother behind after my mother’s passing, abandoning our packs. I couldn’t face them, unable to show my face to those I cared about.

Upon reaching the barracks, the game stopped, and my mood changed. Frank, always observant, noticed the shift and tried to keep a serious atmosphere. I chose to stay in the car while he collected the weapons with the other men.

I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. I had been the one who wanted to play the game, yet now I found myself in a sour mood. Frank answered all my questions openly, while I only gave him brief and halfhearted responses.

As I watched him inspecting each gun, I couldn’t help but wish the ground would swallow me whole. For all these years, I had kept the truth from those I cared about, but now, for the first time, I felt nervous about the idea that they would discover the truth. I hadn’t lied directly, but I had hidden the truth too.

I wondered how Frank would react once he knew the whole story. Would he hate me for what I had done? I scoffed internally, realising he probably already did. It can’t get any worse, right?