Chapter 22. What a Luna Must Be

“What the hell was that?” he snapped. He turned on Eleanor with no attempt at gentleness, no veil of diplomacy. “The gown, the jewelry, the whole performance. What were you thinking? Mira is not you.”

Eleanor blinked, her poise was unshaken, though a sliver of surprise flickered in the fine lines around her mouth. She folded her hands on the table in a movement so precise it felt like ritual.

“I’m doing what must be done,” she said, each word measured and smooth. “She is to be Luna, Kaelen. And that is not a title one simply claims. It must be earned. She will be expected to stand in my place one day. She must be shaped into someone worthy of that weight. A Luna who can be respected. Not a terrified girl with a history of fleeing when confronted. She needs firmer discipline.”

His anger flared white-hot at the casual cruelty of her assessment. “You’re not shaping her,” he bit out. “You’re suffocating her.”

Eleanor arched an eyebrow, her tone cooling into somet