Chapter 115: Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen: Festive Morning 2

“There you are, child,” she said, her voice warm like worn wool. “Come. Sit. The porridge is just right.”

“Shouldn't we rub the balm first?” Elara asked who nodded in agreement. She turned to Kaelia, “Dear, this would be your first time having this family tradition.”

Kaelia smiled faintly as Grandma reached for the small clay bowl of balm, its rich scent filling the warm air, something like crushed lavender, wild mint, something sacred to the family. She sank gently to her knees, her joints cracking softly, and took Elara’s foot in her hand with reverence.

“You gave life,” she said, voice deep and quiet. “And so, life honors you first. You're the daughter of a strong wolf, from a sacred bloodline. No evil shall befall you.”

She rubbed the balm slowly into Elara’s skin, thumbs working in small, patient circles, humming a tune that Kaelia didn’t know but somehow felt familiar with. A lullaby passed down, perhaps. Or a prayer.

Elara didn’t speak, her eyes were wet and shining, but her shoulders were still, and when Grandma finished, Elara knelt down in front of Kaelia, moving the bowl of balm closer to the girl’s feet. She blinked, heart swelling as her mom smiled up at her.

“Walk in safety,” Elara said, pressing the balm to Kaelia's feet with hands that trembled a little, “wherever fate may lead.”

Kaelia swallowed the lump in her throat. “Mama…”

Elara looked up and cupped Kaelia's cheek with her clean hand. “You’ll be alright, Kaelia.”

The three of them sat together at the low table, and Grandma began serving food. Warm, thick porridge with pieces of roasted yam. Sweetened buns. Fried leaves filled with seasoned grain. There were no golden forks or royal servers here. Just hands. Just family.

Aaron was quiet nearby, but Kaelia noticed the way his gaze softened when he watched them. Grandma caught it too.

“You there,” she said, tone as sharp as her eyes. “Come sit, Prince.”

Aaron straightened in surprise. “I—I’m alright—”

“You’re not alright. You’re standing,” she snapped. “Sit.”

Elara chuckled lightly and scooted over, patting the spot beside her. Aaron hesitated before obeying. He muttered something like thank you and tried not to look like he was glowing under the praise of being included.

“Festivals like today don’t come easy,” Grandma said as she passed Kaelia a folded leaf bowl. “They don’t come often either.”

Kaelia frowned a little, spoon halfway to his lips. “But Alarion said it’s not that rare. Happens twice a year, whenever the double moon rises.”

Grandma’s eyebrows rose. “Mm. He’s not wrong, but he’s not right either.”

Kaelia gave her a questioning gaze, “what?”

“Two moons rise together twice every year, yes. But tonight isn’t just any twin moon.” Her voice dropped lower. “Tonight is the festival of fate, it's a night where two moons rise high, one shining a brightly silver, and the other, a deep blood red. So red one would think it'd drip down blood. A decade passes before it shows. And when it comes, it’s not just about floating lights or parades. No, no,” she paused as if thinking if she should say the next word but then a soft smile played on her lips and she shifted her tone, not wanting to scare Kaelia with why exactly the blood moon comes up.

“Tonight,” she continues, “the Alphas of the realm will show their strength. The strongest of the strong will step forward, and your Alpha… he’ll open the path.”

“Alarion?” Kaelia asked.

She nodded. “He’ll be the first. The moon will call the Alpha in him, and he must answer. Then others will follow. Are you surprised? Alarion is a warrior, my dear.”

Kaelia’s grip tightened around the bowl. The thought of Alarion before the whole kingdom, surrounded by hungry eyes, filled her with both pride and jealousy.

“But that’s not the part that makes this night different,” Grandma went on. “When the moon climbs highest and its light falls white as bone, the blood moon climbs with it and something always comes with it. A shift. A truth. Sometimes sweet. Sometimes cruel. Depends.”

Elara didn’t speak, but Kaelia could feel her eyes on her.

“And when that hour comes,” Grandma said, now staring into the flickering flame of the decorative lantern nearby, “I’ll be the one to deliver what the goddess reveals. I never know what it’ll be until it comes. And when it does… I can’t stop it. I can only speak it.”

A chill touched Kaelia’s spine. “So it’s like a prophecy?”

“It’s a reckoning,” she whispered. “For all of us.”

The table grew quiet. Outside, the courtyard birds chirped as if unaware of the weight hanging over the morning.

Kaelia reached for Elara’s hand beneath the table, Elara took Kaelia's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Kaelia closed her eyes and breathed in.

She was here with her mother, Grandma, and best friend. The day seems set to be a good one.

When she opened her eyes again, Aaron was watching her. Not with the guarded stare of a protective alpha. This was the look of someone still in love, still hopelessly anchored, still trying not to drown. Because in the alpha's mind, he’s realizing once again that Kaelia belongs here. Not with him. Still, he’s staying, because he’d rather ache by Kaelia’s side than be whole without him.

He looked away as soon as Kaelia met his gaze. But Kaelia had already seen it. She already felt the stare.

‘I didn’t come for my own peace and happiness,’ Aaron was probably thinking. ‘I came for Kaelia. And I’ll stay for Kael.’

As breakfast ended and Kaelia stood up and bowed to her mother and grandmother, the sunlight caught her sleeve. The white and gold shimmered, moving like water when windy.

“Thank grandma. Mom, we'd be leaving now.”

“Alright baby, Alarion is a busy Prince today, stay safe until nightfall. I trust Prince Aaron to take good care of you.”

“It's my pleasure, ma.” Aaron bowed in respect because of course it's his pleasure when it's Kaelia.

Kaelia turned slightly, the robe swaying behind her, belly hidden well beneath the folds, Aaron quietly at her side as they stepped towards the palace main garden.

The moon hadn’t risen yet, it's still morning.

But it would.

And when it did, nothing would be the same again.