❝I respectfully decline, alphas. ❞
꧁━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━꧂
➽ 𝘞𝘏𝘌𝘙𝘌 you're a maid, trying to live your life in peace, but you end up catching the attention of the notorious alphas.
ᴊᴊᴋᴠᴀʀɪᴏᴜsﾒғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
↝ ℜ𝔶𝔬𝔪𝔢�...
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𝕮𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 XXXV Before. ════✧ ⍣ ✧ ⍣ ✧ ⍣ ✧ ⍣ ✧═════
"Again," Madam Kiyo barked, the sharp crack of her cane against the wooden floor echoing through the hall.
You winced at the sound, ankle bells stilling as your arms dropped to your sides.
Your chest rose and fell with shallow, heated breaths. You'd been practicing for most of the morning for the dance you'd perform at your coming of age ceremony.
"I'm tired," you said, wiping the sweat from your brow with the edge of your sleeve. "I'm taking a break."
"Oh no you're not."
"Oh yes I am." You said as you stepped back from the center of the tatami mat, the soft silk of your hakama trailing behind you like water. The sweat clinging to your brow wasn't from exertion alone. It was midsummer, and the room—lined with open shoji screens—offered little relief from the heat.
Kiyo narrowed her eyes, her mouth puckering like a dried persimmon, but she didn't press. She knew better than to challenge the girl raised in the inner sanctum.
A soft patter of footsteps echoed down the corridor. "Lady Y/N," a servant girl said, kneeling just outside the threshold. Her voice trembled, breathless from running. "Priestess Yanira has summoned you."
You turned on your heel and left without asking why.
The temple's inner halls were cooler, dimmer. The scent of pine smoke and fresh rain drifted in through the open corridors, weaving between silk draperies and gold-threaded tapestries.
The carved doors to your mother's chamber stood open and you entered.
The sanctum was dim, lit only by tall votive candles and the red light bleeding through sheer silk curtains. It always smelled like lotus and old power in here—power that didn't sleep.
And at the center, before the golden altar of the Twin Moons, knelt Yanira.
High Priestess of the Moon Temple. Oracle of the Living Veil.
She was kneeling before the altar, her pale robes pooling like moonlight around her, hands folded in quiet prayer. The light of the sacred flame bathed her face in gold. Peace radiated from her like heat from a summer stone.
She didn't look up when you entered. Her presence filled the room so fully, it made silence feel like thunder.
You knelt beside her, hands resting lightly on your thighs. "You summoned me, Mother."
Yanira finally turned her head before she began. "You are nearly of age," she said. "Soon, the people will look to you with either awe or contempt."
