LOGINThe sun had barely touched the palace towers when Selene stirred, her eyes slowly adjusting to the soft morning light spilling through her window. The corridors were already alive with movement, footsteps, murmurs, the subtle hum of a household in motion. But here, in her chamber, everything felt different. Lighter. Charged with a quiet anticipation she couldn’t name.
Her daughter lay beside her, small and warm, chest rising and falling with each breath, tiny fingers curling instinctiveFive days after Orion's promise, the kingdom woke to a different sort of morning. The sharp bite that had lingered through winter was gone. The air felt lighter somehow. Easier. Windows stood open throughout parts of the city. Merchants no longer wrapped themselves in three layers before stepping outside. Children had resumed their favorite hobby of ignoring weather entirely. And everywhere, signs of spring continued appearing— slowly, patiently and inevitably. Selene noticed it the moment she opened her eyes. Sunlight spilled through the curtains in pale gold streaks. Somewhere outside, birds were making enough noise to suggest they had collectively decided the season had already changed. Beside her, Orion was awake. Not moving. Just watching Camille. The baby occupied the space between them, having somehow ended up there during the night. Selene had stopped questioning how. Camille's tiny fingers were wrapped around one of Orion's. Her grip looked ridiculously small aga
A week passed. The winter hadn't fully disappeared. But it had started to loosen its grip. The palace grounds looked different now. Not all at once. Just in the small ways people noticed when they paid attention. The snowbanks that had towered over pathways had shrunk considerably. Water dripped steadily from rooftops during the warmer parts of the day. Icicles hung shorter than before. Patches of dark earth appeared beneath melting snow. The world seemed caught between two decisions. Winter refusing to leave. Spring refusing to wait.Selene noticed it while walking through the gardens that morning. Workers moved carefully between flowerbeds, removing protective coverings that had sheltered delicate roots throughout the cold months. Nearby, gardeners examined the soil. Birdsong drifted through the air. The first brave arrivals returning after winter. Selene paused beside one of the pathways. A few weeks ago everything had been white. Silent. Still. Now the kingdom felt restless.
The cold arrived before dawn. Not ordinary winter cold. Not the sort people had grown accustomed to over the past months. This was sharper. Meaner. The kind that slipped through cracks in doors and settled into bones. The kind that made people wake up already annoyed.By sunrise, frost coated nearly every rooftop in the city. Windowpanes glittered white. Stone streets sparkled beneath a thin layer of ice. The fountain in the market square had frozen around the edges during the night, and several merchants immediately began complaining about it. As tradition demanded. "I can't feel my fingers." "You have gloves." "They aren't helping." "You said that yesterday." "Because it was true yesterday too." The argument continued. Nearby, children ran through the streets laughing as though they had been personally gifted the greatest weather imaginable. One little boy slid across an icy patch and nearly crashed into a snowbank. His friends applauded. Adults shook their heads. Children re
The silence woke Selene. Not because it was loud. Because it wasn't. For several moments she remained where she was, staring at the ceiling and trying to identify exactly what felt wrong. The room was warm. The fire had burned low during the night. Snowlight filtered softly through the curtains. Everything appeared perfectly normal. Which was suspicious. Camille was nowhere to be heard. Selene sat up immediately. The cradle beside the bed was empty. She stared. Then blinked. Then stared harder. "...Orion?" No answer. The other side of the bed was empty. Selene narrowed her eyes. That explained absolutely nothing. She pushed aside the blankets and stood. The palace was not in danger. She knew that. If something serious had happened, she would have known already. This felt different. This felt like baby-related trouble. Which was somehow its own category. Selene wrapped a robe around herself and stepped into the adjoining sitting room. Then stopped. Orion occupied one of the armchai
A few days later, the palace found itself preparing for the final evening of the year. Not with urgency or endless ceremonies. Simply with tradition. The sort of traditions people followed because their parents had followed them. And their grandparents before that. Traditions nobody questioned anymore because they had become part of life itself. Throughout the city below, lanterns already appeared outside homes. Small lights. Warm lights. Families would leave them burning through the night to welcome the coming year and guide good fortune toward their doors. Children ran through snowy streets carrying paper lanterns nearly as large as their heads. Shopkeepers decorated windows. Bakers prepared special breads. And somewhere, inevitably, somebody was already arguing about the proper way to celebrate. As tradition demanded.Inside the palace, things were not much different. Camille sat in the middle of a blanket on the floor. Looking offended. Very offended. The cause of this inj
Breakfast had already been underway for several minutes when Evangeline finally decided she could not ignore it any longer. The dining room felt comfortably alive that morning. Snow drifted lazily beyond the tall windows while servants moved quietly between tables carrying fresh bread, tea, and warm dishes. Camille occupied Selene's lap. Or rather, half of Selene's lap. The five-month-old had recently discovered that sitting upright offered significantly better opportunities to observe the world. She now took that responsibility very seriously. At present she was watching a spoon. Watching it with deep suspicion.Across the table, Orion appeared entirely invested in a discussion with Quilan regarding winter supply routes. Sable read. Or pretended to. Elira drank tea. Theron looked like he had already disagreed with somebody at least twice. Everything felt normal. Which was exactly why Evangeline finally spoke. "Can I ask something?" Selene glanced up. Evangeline pointed her fork light
That night, the rain drizzled, cooling the atmosphere around the palace, making the torches' light flicker over the wet stones. Inside, Selene’s body began to change again, the moon was hidden. No silver light. No howls. Just a quiet, pressing darkness that felt like the world leaning in to li
The elders felt it before dawn. Selene knew because the palace changed its breathing. What had once been murmurs became pauses. Servants would stop mid-step, guards stiffened as if listening to something only half-heard. The air pressed heavier against her skin, not hostile, but aware. Like th
Morning did not linger in the palace. It shifted. By the time Selene stepped beyond her chamber doors, the softness of early light had already sharpened into something brighter, more revealing. Sunlight spilled through the high-arched windows that lined the corridors, cutting across the stone floors
By the time Selene woke, the palace was already awake with her. She could hear it before she even opened her eyes: the distant rhythm of footsteps, the murmur of servants in motion, the soft clang of doors opening and closing. This place never truly slept. It only shifted. She lay still for a moment







