Fated Moon
In a distant kingdom, beneath the muted glow of morning light, a man sat behind an expansive desk carved from dark oak. Papers were spread before him in neat, deliberate stacks, each one examined with sharp precision. His presence alone commanded the room—handsome, composed, and unapproachably cold.
A knock sounded at the door.
His brows drew together slightly.
"Come in, Lucas—and if this is your tenth interruption, I suggest you make it your last."
The door creaked open, and a man stepped in, exhaling in quiet frustration.
"Your Highness, I swear this one isn't my fault," Lucas began, closing the door behind him. "It's an invitation—from the Lovera Kingdom. Your parents were close allies before their… passing."
Louis didn't look up. "Get to the point."
"You never attend these gatherings, I know. But this one is different." Lucas hesitated, then continued carefully. "They supported you when you had nothing. It may not have been much, but they stood by you when others turned away. You owe them—at least a presence."
The scratching of pen against parchment stopped.
Silence.
"What is this about?" Louis finally asked, his tone edged with impatience. "And make it quick. I have no time for rambling."
Lucas sighed.
"And stop that," Louis added dryly. "You sigh like a man twice your age."
A faint smirk tugged at Lucas' lips. "Says the man who made me age prematurely. All this stress? My back aches, my joints ache—it's entirely your doing."
Louis leaned back slightly, arms folding across his chest. "You have my attention now. Make it worth it."
Lucas straightened immediately, offering a dramatic bow. "Yes, Your Highness—"
"Drop the act, Lucas," Louis cut in. "And stop calling me that when we're alone."
"Yes… Louis," he corrected, though the mischief didn't quite leave his voice. "It's a marriage invitation. The Crown Prince—Kingston—and Lady Rose."
Louis' expression remained unchanged.
"She's recently been revealed as adopted," Lucas added, watching him closely. "Quite a shock. Everyone believed she was born into the royal family."
"And?" Louis said flatly.
"And… are you going?"
"No."
The answer came instantly.
Lucas blinked. "Why not? You promised you'd start—"
"I promised nothing," Louis interrupted, his tone sharpening. "I don't know this woman. I have no ties to Kingston. And I have far more important matters than attending ceremonies filled with strangers."
He picked up his pen again, signaling the conversation was over.
Lucas didn't move.
Then, quietly—
"Aren't you still searching for your sister?"
The pen froze mid-motion.
Louis looked up.
"What do you mean?"
Lucas inhaled slowly, as though stepping onto uncertain ground. "I've been holding onto this for a while. I didn't want to give you false hope… but I can't ignore it anymore."
Louis said nothing.
"I've attended their events in your place for years," Lucas continued. "That's how I saw her—Lady Rose. Just once."
A pause.
"She resembles you."
Louis' gaze darkened.
"Not just you," Lucas added softly. "She looks like… your mother. A younger version of her."
The room fell into a suffocating silence.
For a moment, even the air seemed to still.
Then—
"I think," Lucas said carefully, "it's time you saw her yourself."
Louis stood abruptly.
"Accept the invitation," he ordered.
Lucas blinked, stunned.
"When is it?"
"Tomorrow evening."
"Good," Louis replied, already moving. "Prepare everything. We leave at dawn."
Lucas stared at him, momentarily speechless—but the reaction was expected.
Because beneath the cold exterior, beneath the ruthless king feared across kingdoms… Louis was still searching.
Always searching.
Nineteen years ago, during the storm that tore through the palace—the night everything was lost—he had been just four years old.
His sister?
Only four months.
She had vanished into the chaos, swept away by fate itself.
And Louis had carried that loss like a wound that never healed.
Now, at twenty-one, he remained unmarried, unmoved by alliances or pressure from the court. His words had become law:
"Until I find my sister, there will be no marriage."
No one dared challenge him.
Not after what he had become.
Lucas watched him now, a quiet ache settling in his chest.
He had known Louis since childhood—had been his guard, his shadow, his witness.
He remembered the boy Louis once was.
Kind.
Gentle.
Full of laughter.
But that boy had died the night the palace fell.
In his place stood a king forged in loss—cold, merciless, and unyielding.
Even now, the past haunted him. Night after night, the same memories clawed their way back: fire, screams, blood.
His parents' final stand.
They had protected him with their lives, refusing to reveal his whereabouts to the traitors. With their last breath, they entrusted him to loyal guards and left behind a single mission—
Survive. Grow strong. Reclaim what is yours.
And if they failed… he was to avenge them.
They left him a list.
Names.
Traitors.
Louis had not forgotten a single one.
When he returned years later to reclaim the throne, the kingdom had witnessed something close to apocalypse.
It wasn't war.
It was judgment.
He had been far more ruthless than his parents ever were.
In his eyes, their kindness had been their downfall.
And he would never make the same mistake.
Not again.
Not ever.
Even the neighboring kingdoms who once aided his enemies learned this truth the hard way.
Louis erased threats completely.
No remnants.
No second chances.
Since the restructuring of the palace, no one dared challenge him.
No one dared even try.
He was feared—far more than the king and queen before him.
And yet…
Despite all his power…
Despite all his victories…
There remained one thing he could not conquer.
The past.
Lucas exhaled quietly.
He remembered the Queen—Isabella.
Her beauty had been unforgettable. Her presence, commanding. Her intelligence and grace left lasting impressions on anyone who crossed her path.
And Louis…
He was her reflection in every way.
Her elegance.
Her aura.
Her sharp mind.
And the king's merciless strength.
But there was one memory Lucas could never forget.
The Queen's final words about the missing child.
She had taken the infant to the western border, leaving her where someone—anyone—might find her and give her a chance at life.
"Find her… when he is strong enough," she had said.
Lucas looked toward Louis now, who stood by the window, staring out into the distance.
Perhaps…
Just perhaps…
That time had finally come.
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