Rebirth Of The Rejected Luna Chapter 209: The Secret Meeting

Tiana's POV

That night?

What night?

I didn't get to ask what he meant. His hand slipped away, and his body went limp. He took his last breath, and his words were etched in my mind like a burn.

A memory I didn't know I had. A past that wouldn't stay hidden. A terrible feeling grew inside me. Did Corvin attack because of me? The thought sent a chill through me, making my heart race and my skin sweat.

I stood frozen, my breath uneven. The body lay still at my feet, and chaos raged around me. Corvin's name echoed in my mind, sharp and accusing. He was the only one who would say something like that.

But it didn't make sense. Corvin and Alpha Roman were working together, planning something big. This wasn't just about me. Corvin wouldn't send an army just to get to me and then attack Alpha Roman too. What would he gain from that? He was a planner, always thinking ahead.

So then… What was this? How else could I explain what this man meant by I was supposed to die that night? What other night was Erika whose body I inhabited meant to die? Or has he somehow found out that I was Tiana living in Erika's body?

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms.

It had to be a coincidence or someone else had sent them.

The palace still smelled of blood. Dark streaks ran down the stone walls like rivers, staining everything in their path. The air was heavy with the sharp, metallic scent, making it hard to breathe. Bodies lay scattered across the marble floors, eyes staring blankly, mouths frozen in silent screams.

The remains of war.

Beside me, Peter let out a slow breath—the only sound in the thick silence. He wiped his blade clean, the dim torchlight reflecting off the steel before he slid it back into its sheath.

“The king is being treated,” he said quietly. “They got to him in time. He’ll live.”

I barely nodded, my thoughts still tangled. The king had survived. That was good. But it also meant this wasn’t over.

“They’re having a meeting soon,” Peter added. “The generals, commanders, and the most trusted warriors.”

I looked at him, already knowing what he wasn’t saying. I wouldn’t be invited because I was new. I was an unproven outsider.

“They don’t trust me,” I muttered.

Peter hesitated. “They don’t trust anyone right now.”

And that was fair. This had to be an inside job. The assassins had moved through the palace too smoothly, too efficiently. Someone had let them in. Someone had guided their blades to their targets. They seemed to have known the layout of the palace perfectly.

Still, it stung.

Peter must have noticed the tension in my shoulders because he sighed. “They’re just securing the palace,” he said. “Tightening defenses, finding out who the spies are. That’s it.” I exhaled slowly, pushing the frustration down.

Fine.

Let them have their meeting.

"I shall see you later Peter," I sighed, hurrying away from him before he could ask me any questions. I needed to be in the east wing.

*+*+*+*+*+

The room smelled like smoke, old wood, and paper. A single candle flickered on the table, casting spooky shadows on the walls. I closed the door behind me, my footsteps quiet on the creaky floor.

Across the dimly lit room, the Bridge Man sat in his usual spot. He didn't look up right away, instead pouring himself a drink slowly and carefully. The sound of the liquid filling the glass broke the silence.

I watched him. He breathed out slowly and set the bottle down.

“The attack,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. “What do you know about it?”

He didn’t answer right away. He swirled the drink in his glass, studying the way the light refracted through the amber liquid. Then, finally, he spoke.

“The man who took the fall for the murder you were accused of,” he said. “He had a few allies in the palace.”

I stiffened.

He lifted his gaze, watching me now, expression unreadable.

“They weren’t influential,” he continued, “but they wanted revenge. They believed the king was just as much to blame as you.”

A sharp coil of unease twisted inside my chest.

I swallowed hard.

I had never thought about him. The man who had been executed in my place.

I had never let myself.

And now, I was standing face-to-face with the man who had made that decision for me.

“You framed someone else,” I said, my voice quiet but cold. “You had someone else killed just to clear my name.”

The Bridge Man didn’t flinch.

“Would you rather have died instead?” he asked.

I didn’t answer because I didn’t know. In fact, I knew. I didn't want to die because I had to fulfil a mission.

My throat felt tight, and my thoughts were a jumbled mess. It wasn't just what he had done that bothered me, but how he talked about it - so calmly, like it was no big deal. Like it hadn't cost someone their life.

He leaned forward, his arms on the table. "You think I have no morals," he said. "Maybe I don't." I clenched my jaw.

"But the man I chose to take the blame," he continued, "had killed before. He wasn't innocent." I frowned. "He had taken a life, and now he's paid for it." His words sounded so practical like he was just balancing the scales.

"That doesn't make it right," I said firmly. He didn't argue, because he didn't care. That told me exactly what kind of person he was.

I turned to leave, but he stopped me. "If you're smart, you'll stop thinking about things you can't change." I didn't respond. I walked out and shut the door behind me. But his words stayed with me, echoing in my mind.

I wasn't sure if I agreed with him. And I wasn't sure if that made me any better than him.