Chapter 94 Chapter 94
Chapter 94 Chapter 94
E L A R A
I looked around and noticed it was the same for everyone.
Then the maids appeared.
They moved quietly between the tables, carrying large bowls and baskets. One by one, they served each person a single piece of bread. Just one. Thick, coarse, still warm from baking, but small.
Another maid poured water into each cup. No wine. No broth. Just water.
That was it.
I felt something twist in my chest.
This was a break meal.
For warriors who trained until their muscles shook.
For people who burned through strength and sweat and blood.
And this was all they were given.
Hunter leaned slightly closer to me, his voice low. “Are you sure?” he asked again. “The food is barely anything.”
I looked down at the single piece of bread on my plate.
It wasn’t unfamiliar.
In fact… it was painfully familiar.
I nodded. “I’m sure.”
He studied me for a moment, something unreadable in his eyes. Respect, maybe. Or surprise.
Around us, people had already begun to eat. Quietly. Efficiently. No complaints. No wasted movement.
This wasn’t a feast.
It was fuel.
I picked up the bread, breaking off a small piece between my fingers.
For the first time since becoming Luna, I wasn’t separated by walls or servants or special treatment.
I was sitting where they sat.
Eating what they ate.
And somehow… it felt more real than any lavish meal I’d been served in my chambers.
I lifted my gaze, meeting Hunter’s eyes briefly.
“I wanted to see it,” I said quietly. “How things really are.”
Hunter tore a piece of his own bread and shrugged slightly. “Well,” he said, voice casual, “it’s nothing special. Train. Eat. Back to training. That’s about it.”
I watched the way he ate. Efficient. No waste. Like every movement had purpose.
“That’s your life?” I asked softly. “Just that?”
He glanced at me, a faint, crooked smile touching his lips. “For most of us, yes. Especially warriors. The border never really rests, even when it’s quiet.”
I nodded slowly, absorbing that.
Then another thought surfaced.
“Do you only train warriors?” I asked. “What of the maids? The others who aren’t assigned to fight?”
Hunter’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
He took a sip of water before answering. “The maids aren’t trained like warriors,” he said. “They’re protected. That’s the idea.”
“The idea,” I repeated quietly.
His eyes flicked to mine, catching the implication. He knew what I meant.
“Rogues are naturally vicious,” he said flatly. “With training or no training. Survival makes them that way. Most of them learn to fight before they learn to trust.”.
I thought of the maids moving silently between tables. The way their eyes stayed lowered. The way they kept to the edges of rooms.
Protection was one thing.
Power was another.
“And if something happened?” I asked. “If the walls were breached. If the warriors were pulled away.”
Hunter didn’t answer right away.
That told me enough.
“They’d be vulnerable,” I said softly.
He didn’t deny it.
“That’s why the pack exists the way it does,” he said finally. “Roles. Structure. Everyone has a place.”
I looked down at my hands.
A place.
The word echoed.
For so long, my place had been wherever I could survive. Wherever I could fit. Wherever I could endure.
Now my place was Luna.
But that didn’t mean I had to accept every rule without question.
I looked back up at him. “Protection is important,” I said. “But so is knowledge. Strength. Choice.”
Hunter studied me more intently now, something thoughtful flickering behind his eyes.
“You’re not like the others who’ve worn the title,” he said slowly.
I tilted my head slightly. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “That,” he said, “depends on how much you plan to change around here but you need to understand that structure is important regardless."
I nodded slowly, letting his words sink in.
I understood what he meant.
Structure wasn’t just tradition. It was survival. In a pack this large, with enemies at the borders and tension always simmering beneath the surface, every change rippled outward. Every decision carried weight.
Even good intentions could become dangerous.
I looked around the hall again, really looking this time.
Warriors with scarred hands and tired eyes. Young trainees trying to look tougher than they felt. Older fighters who moved more carefully, joints stiff but pride unbroken. Maids slipping between them like shadows, careful not to draw attention.
Everyone had a role.
And every role kept the whole machine turning.
If I tried to pull one thread without understanding the rest, I could unravel more than I meant to.
“I know,” I said quietly. “Everyone has a part to play.”
Hunter’s gaze softened just a fraction. He could hear it in my voice that I wasn’t arguing anymore. I was thinking.
“Change isn’t just about wanting it,” he said. “It’s about being ready for what comes after.”
I broke off another piece of bread, chewing slowly.
I had spent most of my life reacting. Surviving. Adjusting to whatever the world threw at me.
Now I was in a position where my choices could affect hundreds of lives.
That was new.
That was terrifying.
Even if I felt sorry for someone… even if something felt unfair… I couldn’t afford to be reckless with compassion. Not here. Not now.
Because in this world, mercy without foresight could cost lives.
“I can’t just fix things because they make me uncomfortable,” I admitted softly. “I have to think about the consequences.”
Hunter nodded once, approving. “That’s what separates a symbol from a leader.”
The word leader settled heavily in my chest.
I hadn’t asked for that weight.
But it was mine now.
I lifted my cup, taking a slow drink of water, grounding myself in the simplicity of it.
One step at a time, I told myself.
Learn first.
Understand.
Then, maybe… when I truly knew this pack, when I understood the balance that kept it standing…
Then I could decide what was worth changing.
For now, I would watch.
I would listen.
And I would remember that being Luna didn’t just mean wearing a title.
It meant carrying the cost of every choice that came with it.