The Abandoned Luna's Journey to Power (by Emily Reed) novel Chapter 376

Chapter 376 A Festival at Home

Cindy’s POV:

A massive bonfire had been raised in the open courtyard, its flames roaring high enough to rival the night sky.

Julian, who was ordinarily so fastidious about his appearance that not a single hair would dare fall out of place, had actually discarded his tailcoat and rolled up his sleeves. There he stood, perspiring freely as he labored over a roasting spit, turning an entire plump young lamb until it sizzled.

Golden fat dripped onto the coals, hissing as it struck, the rich, savory aroma unfurling through the air.

Viola was there, along with Stick and all the others.

The moment Viola spotted our return, she came bounding over, brandishing a foaming tankard of ale.

“There you are! Took you long enough. Whatever they served at the palace couldn’t possibly compare to this.” The moment she spotted us, Viola strode forward with a brimming mug of beer in hand. She shoved the mug straight into Adam’s hand, then passed me a glass of juice with a grin. “Come on, don’t dawdle. The night’s only just getting started.”

The crackling fire and the laughter and the scent of roasting meat dispelled the weight that had settled upon my chest after the audience with Prince Niall and all those tedious political undercurrents.

“Jewel!” I called over my shoulder, sweeping my arm in a grand gesture. “Bring it out, if you please!”

“Right away!”

Jewel beamed, all teeth and enthusiasm, as she motioned for several of the sturdier maids. Together, they hauled out a weighty camphorwood chest from storage, grunting under its burden before setting it down with a solid thud beside the firelit stone table.

I stepped forward and flipped open the lid.

Firelight spilled across the contents, catching on a hoard of freshly minted silver coins. The gleam was almost blinding, a pale shimmer that seemed to pulse with its own quiet promise.

It was an old tradition among the werewolf clans, this. On the night of the Moon Goddess

Festival, the lord and lady of the holding were expected to bestow gifts upon their household and their people. It was a gesture meant to invoke the Goddess’s silver blessing, ensuring abundance in the year to come.

“Form a line!” Jewel declared, sounding like a seasoned housekeeper. She planted herself beside the chest, chin lifted. “One at a time. Offer your well-wishes, and Her Grace will reward you generously.”

A cheer rippled through the gathered staff, and in moments, a neat line had formed.

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