The Luna Trials

Waltzing with Secrets

As Prince Harry's hand settled on my waist, I heard Maria's voice cutting through the murmur of the crowd. "Go get him, tiger!" she called, her enthusiasm a stark contrast to the knot of anxiety in my gut.

I shot her a glare over my shoulder, but she just winked and raised her glass in a mock toast. Sometimes I wondered why I counted her as a friend.

"A spirited companion you have there," Prince Harry commented, his voice tinged with amusement.

I turned back to face him, acutely aware of how close we were. "Maria has a talent for... making herself heard," I replied diplomatically.

He chuckled, a low, warm sound that I felt more than heard. "And what about you, MaryJane? Do you share her enthusiasm for these proceedings?"

There was something in his tone, a hint of challenge perhaps, that made me pause. I looked up at him, trying to read the intent behind those forest-green eyes. "I'm here to win, Your Highness. Nothing more, nothing less."

His eyebrow quirked up at that. "Is that so? And yet here you are, dressed to kill, dancing with the prize himself. One might think you had other motivations."

I stiffened in his arms, my jaw clenching. "The dress wasn't my idea," I said, my voice low and tight. "And as for dancing with you, well, it seemed impolite to refuse."

To my surprise, his smile widened. "Ah, there she is. I was beginning to wonder if the real MaryJane would make an appearance tonight."

Before I could respond, he spun me out and then back in, the movement so smooth and unexpected that I found myself pressed against his chest, my words dying in my throat.

"You're not like the others," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. "You don't simper or fawn. You don't try to impress me with false charm or rehearsed wit. It's... refreshing."

I pulled back as much as the dance allowed, meeting his gaze with a level stare. "I'm not here to impress you, Your Highness. I'm here to survive."

Something flashed in his eyes then, too quick for me to identify. Understanding? Respect? Or something darker? "Survive," he repeated, as if tasting the word. "An interesting choice of words. Most would say they're here to win my heart, to become queen."

I snorted before I could stop myself. "I think we both know there's more at stake here than a crown and a pretty wedding."

His grip on my waist tightened fractionally. "Do we now? And what, pray tell, do you think is at stake, MaryJane?"

The way he said my name sent a shiver down my spine. It was too familiar, too intimate. As if he knew me, really knew me. I thought of the man in the shadows, of talk of factions and overthrowing kings. I thought of torture chambers and secret meetings.

"I think," I said carefully, "that there are games being played here that go far beyond a simple contest for your hand."

He spun me again, and when I came back to him, his eyes were dark with an emotion I couldn't name. "Clever girl," he murmured. "But then, I always knew you would be. The question is, are you clever enough to play the game and win?"

My heart pounded in my chest, a war drum signaling danger. "What do you know?" I demanded, forgetting for a moment that I was addressing a prince.

But Harry didn't seem offended by my tone. If anything, he looked pleased. "I know many things, MaryJane. I know that you're stronger than you appear, that you've faced trials that would break lesser wolves. I know that you have secrets, just as I do."

He leaned in close, his lips barely brushing my ear. "And I know that there are forces at work here that would make your blood run cold if you knew the truth."

I pulled back, searching his face for any sign of deception. But all I saw was a grim determination that mirrored my own. "Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

"Because," he said, his voice so low I had to strain to hear it over the music, "I think you might be the key to unraveling it all. The factions, the trials, the future of our kingdom... it all comes down to you, MaryJane."

The music swelled to a crescendo, and Harry spun me one final time before dipping me low. As he held me there, suspended between his strong arms and the polished floor, I felt as though I was teetering on the edge of a great precipice.

"The question is," he said, his face mere inches from mine, "whose side will you choose when the time comes?"

Before I could respond, he pulled me upright and stepped back, bowing low as the music faded. The crowd erupted into applause, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears.

As Harry straightened, his face was once again the picture of royal charm. "Thank you for the dance, MaryJane," he said, loud enough for those nearby to hear. "I look forward to seeing more of you during the trials."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the dance floor, my mind reeling.

I made my way to the edge of the room on unsteady legs, gratefully accepting a glass of water from a passing server. As I sipped, trying to calm my racing thoughts, I felt a presence at my elbow.

"Well, well, well," Maria drawled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Looks like someone made quite an impression on our dear prince."

I shot her a warning look. "Not now, Maria."

But she was undeterred. "Oh, come on! You can't dance with Prince Charming himself and not give me all the juicy details. What did he say? Did he compliment your dress? Did he—"

"I said not now," I snapped, my patience wearing thin.

Maria's eyes widened at my tone, and for once, she fell silent. After a moment, her expression softened. "Hey," she said, gentler now. "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I took a deep breath, trying to center myself. "I'm fine," I lied. "It's just... a lot to take in."

She nodded sympathetically. "I bet. But hey, you did great out there. Every eye in the room was on you two. If the point was to stand out, mission accomplished."

I managed a weak smile. "Thanks, I think."

As Maria launched into a detailed analysis of every other contestant's dress and dance partner, I let my gaze wander the room. I spotted Harry across the hall, deep in conversation with a group of nobles. As if sensing my gaze, he looked up, our eyes meeting across the crowded room.

In that moment, I felt the weight of his words settle over me like a shroud. Forces at work. Secrets and factions. A key to unraveling it all.

I thought of the man in the shadows, of torture chambers and whispered conspiracies. I thought of Harry's warning, of choices yet to be made.

As I stood there, wrapped in silk the color of blood, I realized that I had stepped into a game far more dangerous than I had ever imagined. The Luna Trials were no longer just about winning a crown or proving my worth.

They were about survival. About choices. About the fate of a kingdom that suddenly seemed to rest on my shoulders.

As the ball continued around me, a whirl of color and sound and intrigue, I made a silent vow to myself. I would uncover the truth, no matter the cost. I would play this game, and I would win.

Because in this world of secrets and shadows, losing meant more than just forfeit a crown.

It meant death.