The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven Chapter 678: Estella’s Invitation

Away from court duties and council obligations, in a secluded private chamber, joyful laughter supplanted rigid formality.

Meredith lounged at ease with one twin cradled in her arms, the other nestled between them, playfully kicking at the plush cushions.

Draven lay near her, completely engrossed.

Kieran clutched his finger with remarkable grip strength, tiny brows knitting in fierce determination.

Draven chuckled deeply, shifting his hand a bit yet refusing to withdraw.

"You see that?" he said, glancing at Meredith. "He already thinks he can take me on."

Meredith smiled warmly, adjusting Luna tenderly as the girl let out a gentle murmur, her silver locks shimmering in the light.

"That’s because he takes after you."

Draven huffed softly. "Then he should know better."

Luna cooed softly in reply, her tiny hand grazing Meredith’s dress as though voicing dissent.

This serene instant stretched on—cozy, intimate, shielded from the outside world for just the four of them.

A gentle knock soon pierced the tranquility.

Oscar entered moments later, calm in demeanor yet bearing a subtle haste that caught their notice.

"Your Majesty," he said, bowing. "A letter has arrived."

Draven’s focus snapped to him instantly. "From where?"

Oscar paused just a moment. "From Estella Oatrun."

A subtle chill descended over the room.

Meredith’s smile vanished as her eyes locked with Draven’s. No explanation was needed; the significance of that name hung heavy between them.

Draven carefully pried Kieran’s insistent little fingers loose before accepting the envelope from Oscar. His features hardened as he swiftly snapped the seal.

He opened the letter and scanned its contents.

—

-

—

Draven lowered the missive gradually, face impassive, but a icy glint now gleamed in his eyes.

"Estella is inviting us to war in two weeks," he said.

Meredith’s brows furrowed faintly. "Two weeks?"

He gave a single nod. She extended her hand for the letter, and he passed it over readily.

Her gaze raced over the text, face growing taut at the arrogant tone, the veiled menace, the unwavering confidence.

Upon finishing, she set it down, visibly irked. "That’s too soon," she said.

Draven offered no counter. He addressed Oscar. "Summon an emergency council for tomorrow morning."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Oscar bowed at once and departed.

A heavy quiet blanketed the chamber briefly. The twins fidgeted mildly, oblivious to the ominous turn.

Meredith looked to Draven, then at the letter she held. "My grandmother should have something to say about this."

Draven nodded. "She will."

They sprang into motion without delay.

Meredith entrusted the twins to their nannies, pausing only briefly to ensure Luna and Kieran were comfortable before departing.

Draven stood by the entrance awaiting her; as she approached, he clasped her hand silently.

Hand in hand, they set off to locate her grandmother.

—

The elderly woman occupied her usual spot, knitting idle in her lap, hands motionless well before their arrival.

She had sensed their approach already.

"Grandma," Meredith called softly.

A subtle smile graced the old lady’s lips. "You have come."

Draven cut straight to the point. "A letter just arrived from my sister, Estella. She has called for war."

The old lady’s face remained unchanged, yet the air thickened faintly. "When?" she asked.

"In two weeks."

She sighed this time.

"She is cruel," the old lady said, her voice steady but laced with censure. "Not even granting you enough time to prepare... just as I feared."

Meredith drew nearer. "Grandma," she said, tone grave, "what did you see back then and refused to tell us, saying it was not the right time?"

The old lady held her response, drawing a deep breath as if pondering the futility of further secrecy. At last, she revealed it.

"You are the main target in this war," she said, angling her face toward Meredith slightly,

Silence enveloped them as Meredith and Draven froze.

In that fleeting instant, stunned inaction gripped them, the revelation sinking in slowly.

They shared a look, then Meredith’s brow creased. "Me?"

The old lady nodded subtly. "After your last encounter with Estella... when you fought her off using your fae powers, she learned something important."

Her fingers twitched over the cloth in her lap. "She learned not to underestimate you."

Draven’s features grew stern.

The old lady pressed on, "So she has been planning, not just for war, but for you."

Meredith’s eyes narrowed intently as she absorbed the words.

"She would not declare war so boldly unless she believed she had already found a way to deal with you first," the old lady said. "Only then would she turn her full attention to Draven."

Draven scoffed under his breath. "Then she is overestimating herself."

The old lady shook her head faintly. "No," she said. "She is not."

That halted him short.

"Estella is not reckless," she continued. "She is patient. Strategic. She has been preparing for this for over a year."

Draven clenched his jaw, holding back retort. "We have also been preparing," he countered. "Our forces have trained for this war just as long."

The old lady dipped her head. "And that is why you still stand a chance."

Her tone stayed firm as she warned further, "But now that you know who her true target is, you must restrategize."

Draven nodded sharply. "We will."

Meredith pondered deeply, however. Then she inquired, "Why didn’t you tell us earlier that I was the target?"

The old lady faced her directly. "You were in the early stages of your pregnancy," she simply said. "I would not place that burden on you at such a time."

Meredith grew quiet.

"It would not have changed anything," the old lady continued gently. "Whether I told you then or now, the war would still come."

A short lull ensued before her voice gained edge.

"What matters is that you still have time. Two weeks." Her grip tightened on the fabric in her lap.

"Do not underestimate her," she warned. "She has strong alliances. She is not moving blindly."

Meredith exhaled softly and met Draven’s gaze once more, the gravity now fully dawning.

Yet before they could respond, the old lady dismissed them with a wave.

"Enough. Go," she said.

Both turned their eyes to her.

Her milky eyes flickered subtly, peering into distances unseen. "You have work to do."

Her command brooked no delay.