The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven-Chapter 587: Stripping Her Mask

[Third Person].

The women turned.

It was Helena who had spoken. She stood with her hands folded neatly before her, dressed with understated elegance—nothing ostentatious, nothing begging for attention. Yet the moment she spoke, the group stilled.

"Perhaps," Helena continued evenly, "it would benefit us to remember that a Queen’s worth has never been measured solely by her womb. Not by any competent reign, at least."

A hush fell around them. Meanwhile, Wanda’s eyes narrowed.

One of the women frowned. "And you are...?"

Helena inclined her head slightly. "Helena Aurelion."

The name landed like a stone dropped into still water, and several women straightened immediately.

"Her uncle," someone murmured under their breath, "was King before Alderic."

Meredith’s gaze sharpened as soon as she learned of Helena’s identity.

Helena turned toward Meredith then, her expression softening just slightly. "Luna Meredith has already demonstrated care for the people, discernment, and restraint. Those qualities, in my experience, are far rarer and far more valuable than rushing succession for the sake of appearances." 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Wanda’s smile finally cracked. Before she could respond, Queen Loraina reappeared at Meredith’s side, her timing impeccable.

"Indeed," the Queen said coolly. "I would have thought that was obvious."

Her gaze flicked toward Wanda dismissively. The conversation dissolved almost immediately.

Then Queen Loraina lightly touched Meredith’s arm and said, "Walk with me."

They moved away from the hall, toward a quieter alcove where artwork lined the walls—ancient tapestries, sculpted reliefs, paintings depicting past reigns and battles.

The Queen paused before one such piece, a depiction of a woman standing beside a throne, her expression unreadable.

"I see they are testing you already," Queen Loraina said calmly.

Meredith did not deny it.

"They will test you harder," the Queen continued. "Because you are new. Because you are different. And because some of them would prefer Wanda’s familiarity over your uncertainty."

She turned, studying Meredith closely. "But tonight, I wanted them to see something else."

"What is that, Your Majesty?" Meredith asked, a bit curious as to the real reason the Queen hosted this ball and invited her.

"That you are not alone," the Queen replied. "And that I am still watching."

Her gaze softened briefly. "Do not let their questions rush you into answers you do not owe. Power is not seized through children alone. It is secured through loyalty and perception."

Meredith inclined her head, understanding Queen Loraina’s intention. "I understand."

The Queen smiled faintly. "Good. Now enjoy the art. That, at least, is honest."

---

Later, as the women dispersed to admire the performances—string ensembles, dancers interpreting old legends, poets reciting verses of fallen queens.

Meredith found Helena standing alone near a marble column and approached, hiding her surprise at seeing her again, much more, here of all places.

Initially, she had thought Helena was from an average family, and had even intended to ask about her from the market women. But it turned out that she was from one of the Royal packs.

Meredith studied her more closely now, seeing past first impressions and simplicity.

"I owe you my thanks," Meredith said quietly.

Helena smiled, and offered a small nod. "I only spoke the truth, Luna."

"I did not realize you were from the Silvercrest clan," Meredith admitted.

Helena’s smile faded slightly. "Most do not, and I do prefer it that way."

After a pause, she added, "Your event, the one for the women. I understand that was not politics, but kindness. I recognized the difference."

A small silence followed, then Meredith said, "I would like to speak with you again, privately, after the ball."

Helena nodded. "Anytime."

Across the room, Wanda watched them with open displeasure.

---

Dinner was announced not long after; the women were guided into a grand dining hall where long tables were arranged beneath chandeliers.

The conversations continued, some cautious, some warm, and some calculated, but the earlier tone had shifted.

Meredith had weathered the first storm. At a quiet moment, she took out her phone and sent a brief message to Draven.

"The ball is going smoothly. When coming to pick me up, bring Dennis along."

She hesitated, then added: "Trust me."

Finally, she slipped the phone away, her gaze lifting to Helena across the table.

The dinner continued to unfold beneath warm chandeliers and soft instrumental music.

Laughter drifted easily until Wanda Fellowes became the centre of it.

One of the women leaned toward Wanda with a knowing smile. "It’s good you’ve always had such a close relationship with our next King," she said lightly. "You practically grew up together. I’m sure you will be favoured during his reign."

A few others nodded in agreement.

"Do remember us when the time comes," another added, half-joking, and half-hopeful.

Wanda smiled—slow, smug, perfectly practised. She lifted her goblet, then lowered it again as if reconsidering. Then her gaze flicked toward Meredith across the table, and she let out a soft, almost reluctant sigh.

"Unfortunately," Wanda said gently, "I do not think so. Alpha Draven and I are no longer close. Not after he married."

She paused, as though weighing her words. "I no longer wish to place myself in situations that might bring trouble or subject me to orchestrated disrespect."

The effect was immediate.

Several women turned to look at Meredith. Some faces showed open displeasure. Others carried thinly veiled judgment.

One of them spoke without hesitation. "Miss Fellowes has always been like family to Alpha Draven. There was no need to sever that bond."

"Yes," another added. "Marriage should not require isolating a man from his closest companions."

Wanda lowered her eyes modestly, though triumph flickered beneath her lashes. She resumed eating as if she had said nothing at all, her heart light with satisfaction.

Meredith remained silent. She let the words settle. Let the room breathe them in. Let the glances linger.

Only when the women finished speaking did she lift her gaze and set her cutlery down with calm precision.

"I’m afraid," Meredith said evenly, "that I do not understand what Miss Fellowes is referring to."

Her tone was gentle—too gentle to be confrontational, but too composed to be dismissed.

"I have never separated my mate from anyone. Alpha Draven is not a man who tolerates control, nor one who abandons relationships without reason."

She paused, then continued, her voice still soft, but sharper now—refined, deliberate.

"That said, I do believe a wise man would find it far easier to tolerate open disrespect toward his mate than to overlook someone who secretly harbours indecent feelings for him."

Instantly, her words landed like a slash, severing all in the room. Forks froze mid-air and goblets stopped moving.

Wanda’s face burned, heat rushing to her cheeks despite herself. The implication was unmistakable. The elegance of Meredith’s words made them all the more devastating.

The women who had spoken earlier quietly lowered their gazes and returned to their meals, their lips pressed tight, and understanding dawning too late.

No one spoke again.

Meredith resumed eating unhurriedly, her expression serene. And in her mind, a single thought settled with cool satisfaction:

’If Wanda so wished to go low to twist the truth and stain my name, then I would go even lower but more quietly and gracefully—and strip her mask away in plain sight.’