Page 41 of The Barren Luna

“I – I don’t know.”

“What did you want to do before you became Luna?”

“I’ve never really had the luxury to think about that. I'd always understood that whatever I was had to dovetail nicely with whatever my mate was. This is the first time I have to make any such plans on my own, so I’m a little lost.”

“I can relate to that, perhaps more than you can imagine,” he said, pensive, and I looked at him inquisitively.

He turned his entire body to me, put an elbow on the back of the sofa, and rested his head on his hand.

“I never really wanted to be King. I was constantly told I would be, ever since I was old enough to understand speech, and yet I never fully internalized the idea. It never sparked a fire inside me the way holding a weapon or leading the troops does. But like you said, I never had the luxury of choice in the matter.

John, on the other hand, is much more capable and serious in these administrative and diplomatic matters, far better suited to rule both in terms of temperament and sensibility, and yet six mere minutes prevented him from wearing the Crown he so faithfully serves.”

He absentmindedly took the book from my hand, his fingers brushing mine in the process, and put it back on the table.

“I want you to stay in my pack, Regina. We can figure things out together if you’ll let me. We’ll discover what you were meant to do. But we must have one more conversation before that. I don’t want to overwhelm you tonight. Can you join me for breakfast in the morning?”

“Yes.”

I should really get some books to read while I was here, perhaps then I would have a wider arsenal of words at my disposal the next time I talked to David.

“Good night, Gina.”

“Good night, David. Sleep well.”

“I will.”

There was that grin again. My throat felt dry. What would we talk about at breakfast? Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

16 - Regina

Iwoke up earlier than usual, and for once, my bed didn't feel like a furnace. With an excitement I refused to analyze or acknowledge, I chose my clothes for the day – blue jeans and a black long-sleeved Henley. These casual combos worked best with the haircut I was forced to wear for now. Breakfast had to be casual, even in a palace, right??

David was already in the dining hall when I came down. It seemed oddly empty without all the palace guests that had been here for the trial.

“Good morning, Regina!” he greeted me cheerfully, and I found myself smiling back.

“Good morning, David.”

“Let’s go to my personal dining room, it makes no sense to sit in this huge hall if it’s just the two of us, right?”

“Right,” I nodded and followed him through the double glass doors to an elaborate dining room that held only one table that could seat ten.

The spread the cook had prepared was impressive, considering we were the only ones at the table, and my stomach urged me to fill up my plate quickly. I was starting to get my appetite back,and I’d never welcomed it more in my life. Being in the position to gain weight was a privilege, something I’d never understood before. Going forward, I hoped I'd never forget that lesson.

On the table, there were wonderful-smelling pillows of fried dough, bowls of clotted cream, mouth-watering thin slices of dried venison, juicy venison sausages, cubes of salted, bright yellow butter, fragrant, red strawberry jam with whole strawberries suspended in the glistening pectin and sugar mixture, and a mysterious spread that smelled of grilled red peppers, garlic, and aubergines.

The only thing that I slightly disliked was the fresh fruit that had to have been flown in, considering it was January in Colorado. I’d always insisted on using seasonal produce in our pack’s kitchen as well as in my own home. It ensured that the body was being fed in accordance with the seasons. It brought us, as shifters, closer to nature. Freezing, canning, and making preserves allowed us to enjoy our bountiful harvests year-round; there was no need to fly in fruit from warmer climates just because we could.

David must have noticed me frowning as I chewed on the dried venison because he immediately asked, “Is the food not to your liking?”

“Oh no, quite the opposite, I am very impressed with your chef. All of this is so delicious.”

“But?” he asked, smiling as if he was looking forward to me complaining about something.

“Well,” I sighed, “I’m a proponent of seasonal and local eating – you harvest and consume what is available in your region in the season you’re in. When we harvest vegetables and fruits when they are at their peak, the ripeness and flavors are beyond compare. We have both traditional and modern methods at our disposal to preserve such foods to be enjoyed year-round, so whypollute the environment and, in a way, our bodies by using a plane to bring us food from God-knows-where, just so we could enjoy a mango for breakfast in January?” I concluded.

He observed me thoughtfully for a moment.

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