Rebirth Of The Rejected Luna Chapter 136: The Ice

**Erika’s POV**

I finished buttoning up my sleeve, my fingers tracing the embroidery at my wrist. The gown was this deep, rich blue that seemed to swallow the light around me. The silver beading at the neckline sparkled, but only just, like it was trying not to draw attention to itself.

My mom, Lady Althea, stood across the room, fiddling with the golden cuff on her wrist. Her gown was this gorgeous emerald green that seemed to glow in the dim light. She looked perfect like she always did. But I knew her too well. I saw the way her fingers hesitated over the clasp of her necklace, the way she kept adjusting things that didn't need adjusting.

I watched her, my eyes fixed on her reflection in the mirror. She seemed so calm, so collected. But I knew better. "You're nervous," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. She didn't turn around, didn't even flinch. Instead, she picked up a comb and started running it through her hair, the strokes slow and deliberate. The sound was soothing, but it only made me more anxious. Something was off, and I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

"You didn't answer me."

" You are nervous."

I exhaled softly. “I am. But you usually hide it better.”

My mom paused for a split second before putting down the comb. Then she turned to face me, her expression totally blank. "I'm not nervous," she said, her voice super calm.

I raised an eyebrow, not believing her. "You're fussing over stuff that doesn't need fixing," I pointed out. She gave me a tiny smile, but it was gone in a flash. "And you're staring at me like you're trying to read my mind," she added, her eyes locked on mine.

The silence between us was awkward. I was thinking about the dinner, and all the people we'd have to face, and all the things that could go wrong. My stomach was twisting into knots.

My mom stepped forward and fixed the pendant around my neck. Her fingers touched my skin, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. Then she stepped back and looked me up and down. "We should go," she said, her voice firm. I checked myself out in the mirror one last time. I looked okay, I guess. Composed, or whatever. But my hands were freezing, and my heart was racing. I nodded, trying to sound calm. "Let's go."

*++*+*+*+",

The dining hall was quiet, except for the occasional clink of silverware on plates. The candlelight made weird shadows on the table, and you could feel the tension in the air. It was like everyone was waiting for someone to speak.

Alpha Corvin sat at the head of the table, looking all relaxed, but his eyes kept darting between his wife and my mom. He was watching them closely like he was waiting for one of them to slip up or something. The Luna, sat with her back straight, staring straight ahead. She wouldn't even look at Alpha Corvin.

My mom sat across from her, holding her goblet so tightly her fingers were white. She looked like she was bracing herself for a punch or something. I had no idea what was going on, but I could feel it. It was like there was this heavy, invisible weight pressing down on us.

Elara, who was sitting next to me, hadn't said much since we got there. She was polite and all, but it felt fake. Like she'd been told to behave a certain way. I snuck glances at her, trying to figure out what was going on, but her face didn't give anything away.

I tried to eat, but everything tasted like dust. I felt like I was just going through the motions, waiting for something to happen. But what?

Then, I noticed it.

My mother’s fork stilled.

Her shoulders tensed ever so slightly before she set her utensil down, dabbing her lips with her napkin. “I need a moment of fresh air,” she murmured, her voice even, controlled.

She rose gracefully from her seat. I frowned, my instincts stirring. There was something unnatural about the way she left. Like she was concealing discomfort—pain, even.

Alpha Corvin didn’t so much as glance her way as she stepped out of the dining hall. But I saw it. The flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

I shifted in my seat, uneasy.

Something was wrong.

She returned not long after, composed but paler than before. A slight dampness clung to her brow, but she did not acknowledge it.

As if on cue, the attendants entered, carrying silver trays, and the third course was presented. More than just food, the final round of drinks was poured, goblets filled with deep crimson wine, the surface glistening under the candlelight.

I barely picked up my glass before Alpha Corvin spoke.

“My lady…”

His voice was mild, but it sliced through the air like a blade.

I turned my head just in time to see him gazing at his wife’s goblet. The Luna had lifted the glass to her lips, the rim just brushing her mouth and she took her first sip. But something in Corvin’s tone made her pause.

“The ice,” he murmured, “is not floating.”

Silence fell.

I frowned, looking at the drink. The ice cubes rested strangely like they were suspended just below the surface rather than bobbing freely. It was an odd thing to point out, yet the room had grown deathly still.

The Lunar’s eyes were fixed on her goblet, her fingers squeezing the stem a little harder. She set it down slowly, and for a second, everything was frozen. Then her hand moved to her throat, and she took a sharp, quiet breath in. Her fingers twitched, and her next breath was ragged.

The cup tipped over, slipping from her grasp and crashing against the table. The deep red liquid spilled out, looking like blood on the white tablecloth. Then she gasped, making this horrible, rasping sound, like someone struggling to breathe. It was terrifying. Everyone's eyes were on her, shocked and scared. My heart was racing, and I felt like I was going to throw up. What was happening to her?

She pushed back from the table violently, her body jerking as if it no longer obeyed her. Her fingers clawed at her throat, her chest rising and falling in frantic, uneven heaves.