The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven-Chapter 605: Pre-Coronation Preparations (II)

[Third Person].

By afternoon, once the hall had been cleared of visiting envoys, Meredith dismissed most of the servants.

Only two trusted guards remained at the entrance. And then, there were her five maidservants who were inside with her, waiting at the side.

Meredith moved slowly along the tables, her fingers gliding lightly over velvet, polished wood, glass bottles, sealed envelopes. Then she closed her eyes and breathed in. The air was layered with dozens of scents—fresh timber, metallic polish, ink, wine, leather, incense oils.

She separated them one by one. She had learned to detect the faintest trace of corruption—bitter herbs masked in perfume, venom diluted in syrup, toxin woven into silk threads, even powders dusted along jewellery clasps.

She would not allow history to repeat itself. Not for her mate. Not for her crown.

Meredith paused at a crystal decanter filled with amber liquid and leaned closer. Then she inhaled and found it harmless.

She moved on to a box of imported spices, then to a velvet case containing a necklace of moonstones.

She lifted it, examined the clasp, and brought it close to her nose. Still, there was nothing. But her senses sharpened when she reached Alderic’s chest.

At the same time, Draven walked in, fixing his eyes on her immediately.

Meredith opened the lid slowly. Inside lay ceremonial robes woven with gold thread, a carved sceptre of polished oak, and sealed letters bearing Alderic’s signature.

She leaned over the fabric and inhaled deeply. There was nothing toxic about it, yet something about it made her linger.

Just then, Draven stepped closer. "Well?"

"It’s clean," she said quietly.

He nodded, releasing a breath as she closed the chest gently and moved down the line again, methodical, unhurried, and deliberate.

Every gift, every ribbon, every bottle seal, and every edible item was not left unchecked.

Draven finally spoke, lower this time. "Not everyone smiling at us wants to see us crowned."

"I know," she replied.

"That’s why we assume nothing is harmless."

She turned, meeting his gaze. "The court is worse than the battlefield. At least on the battlefield, enemies don’t pretend to congratulate you."

A faint smile tugged at his lips. "You are starting to sound like a ruler."

"I’m starting to think like one."

By the time she finished, the sun had dipped lower, golden light spilling through the tall palace windows.

Every gift had been inspected. Every consumable item marked safe or set aside for further testing.

No one would poison her King, not under her watch.

---

A few hours later, the palace courtyard where the Pre-coronation Ritual for the incoming King and Queen of Stormveil would take place had been transformed.

This ritual was performed on the night before the coronation in every new reign for the new leaders of Stormveil to seek the Moon Goddess’s blessings and approval.

Draven and Meredith were not an exception.

Torches burned in tall iron braziers, forming a wide sacred circle beneath the open night sky.

The marble ground had been washed clean and etched with ancient lunar markings—symbols so old that only a handful of elders could still interpret them fully.

Above them, the silver moon, nearly full, hung, watching.

Nobles, Alphas, and power families stood silently in a semi-circle beyond the sacred markings. Tonight was not political. It was ancestral.

At the centre of the circle stood a raised stone altar carved with the crest of Stormveil.

Draven entered first, dressed in ceremonial black trimmed with silver thread, with no crowns. Only the weight of expectation.

Meredith followed. She wore white—just pure, structured silk that flowed behind her like quiet moonlight. Her silver hair fell in soft waves down her back.

The murmurs in the crowd were hushed because she felt different—Stronger and rooted.

The High Priest of the Moon stepped forward. An elderly woman with sharp eyes and a staff crowned with a crescent blade.

Her voice carried. "Before the Sun crowns you King and Queen, the Moon must witness your souls."

Draven and Meredith stepped onto the sacred carving. Then the priest continued.

"This rite binds ruler to land. Blood to blood. Spirit to spirit. Should the Moon reject you, your reign will fracture."

Silence echoed for a moment as some of the older nobles exchanged glances.

The priest turned to Draven. "Kneel."

He did, then she pressed the blade lightly to his palm and drew a shallow cut. His blood fell onto the stone.

The markings glowed faintly, and a ripple of approval passed through the crowd.

Then the priest turned to Meredith. There was a pause, a small noticeable one. Because history remembered her differently.

"Luna Meredith Carter. Step forward."

Meredith knelt. The blade touched her palm, and a thin line of red formed. Her blood touched the stone, then the markings beneath her hand ignited in bright silver light.

The entire sacred circle shimmered, as though moonlight had been poured directly onto the ground.

A wind moved through the courtyard, though the night had been still. The torches flickered violently. And above them, the moon brightened.

It was subtle, but undeniable.

The clouds parted completely, revealing the full face of the Moon Goddess unobstructed. A silver beam broke through the sky and fell directly upon the altar.

Gasps escaped from the lips of the nobles. Someone dropped to their knees, while several of them bowed instinctively.

The priest’s grip on her staff tightened. She had performed this ritual six times in her lifetime, and she had never seen that.

Draven lifted his head slowly, staring at Meredith. She looked up at the sky, calmly. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

At the same time, Valmora stirred quietly within her, but she did not release her aura. She didn’t need to. The Moon had already spoken.

Just then, the priest’s voice trembled slightly as she declared, "The Moon bears witness." Then she turned toward the crowd. "Stormveil has been accepted."

No one dared question it. Even the most sceptical elder, after Reginald, lowered his head.

Randall stood among them, watching carefully with a proud and satisfied gaze. Because no council could argue against his son’s reign in the future.

The wind died down, and the silver glow faded slowly from the stone. Then Draven rose and helped Meredith to her feet, their hands were still joined.

The priest stepped back and struck her staff against the stone once. "It is done."

The witnesses bowed in submission.