Chapters 7: The Moon Ceremony
Aurenya's POV
The envelope lay on the velvet cushion like a snake waiting to strike.
I had just returned from my morning walk through the gardens with Elara and Seraphine when I saw it — a heavy scroll, wax-sealed in black and gold, sitting squarely in the center of my bed. No note. No messenger. Just the sigil of the Crown carved into the wax like a brand.
My heart dropped into my stomach.
It had arrived.
I didn't need to open it to know what it was. I had seen it before. Once. In another life.
A summons.
I broke the seal with trembling fingers, even though I already knew what it would say:
> Lady Aurenya,
You are hereby summoned to attend the Moon Ceremony as a guest of the Crown. The King expects your presence at the High Hall of Silvermist Palace.
— Lord Darian Blackthorn, Commander of the Moon Guard
Seraphine peeked over my shoulder, eyebrows rising. "Wow. That looks official."
Elara was already stiff beside me, reading the script upside down. "He's summoning you?"
"I suppose he is," I replied, folding the letter and tucking it away.
They didn't know the half of it.
In my past life, that letter had been the beginning of everything. The Moon Ceremony was where it started — the lies, the manipulation, the night he placed a crown of silver thorns on my head and bound my soul to his. It was also where it began to fall apart.
But this time, I had no intention of following the same path.
This time, I would rewrite the ending.
---
The estate was in an uproar the next morning. Aunt Liora insisted that I wear the blue and silver gown she'd commissioned just for this occasion, embroidered with lunar lilies and frostvine crystals. It shimmered when I moved, catching the light like moonlight on water.
I allowed her to fuss over my hair, pulling it into soft waves pinned with silver combs, and even let Seraphine apply a touch of rouge to my cheeks. They were excited. Naive. Hopeful. And I didn't want to dim that light.
But inside, I was a hurricane trapped in skin.
By midday, the carriage rolled through the silver gates of the palace. I hadn't seen it since my return — not really. But it looked exactly as I remembered: the marble pillars, the high spires catching the sun, the great bronze doors flanked by guards in silver armor.
My breath caught as we stepped out. The same palace. The same scent of lavender and cold stone. But a different me.
The Moon Ceremony was held in the Grand Hall — a vaulted cathedral of a room with stained glass windows that painted the floor in shifting shades of blue and violet. The nobles were already gathering, a sea of silks and jewels and false smiles. Music floated from a quartet in the corner, and goblets of moonwine glittered on silver trays.
I let my gaze sweep the room.
Faces. Some familiar. Some not. Some had betrayed me once. Some had died before they could.
This time, I'd find out who was who.
Aunt Liora excused herself almost immediately, slipping off to greet the Duchess of Eirenhall. Seraphine clung to my side for a moment longer before being whisked away by a pair of giggling ladies she'd once known from her childhood.
And just like that, I was alone.
Or so I thought.
"Lady Aurenya?"
I turned to find a tall man with dark brown hair and steel-grey eyes approaching. He wore the black and silver of the Moon Guard, his bearing precise but not unfriendly.
"Commander Darian Velkros," I said, recognizing him at once.
He smiled. "You remember me."
"How could I forget? You led the Royal Guard, and you used to sneak honeycakes from the kitchens when you thought no one was watching."
His eyes widened, and then he laughed, genuine and warm. "So I did."
He offered his arm, and I took it. He led me toward a quieter alcove where a woman with cinnamon skin and a cascade of black curls waited. Her green eyes sparkled.
"This is my mate, Lady Thaliya. Thaliya, this is Lady Aurenya."
"I've heard so much about you," she said, clasping my hands warmly.
"All lies, I'm sure," I said with a grin.
She chuckled. "Only the interesting ones."
We spoke for a time — about the palace, the ceremony, their upcoming bond celebration — and for the first time that evening, I felt like I could breathe. Thaliya was clever and quick-witted, and Darian had the calm steadiness of a man who had fought many battles and survived all of them.
But even as we spoke, I felt it.
A gaze.
Heavy. Hot. Familiar.
I didn't have to look to know who it was. I could feel him watching me from across the room. Just like before. A tether pulled tight.
I turned, slowly, and met his eyes.
Zevran.
King of the Night Court. Ruler of Silvermist.
And in another life, my undoing.
He stood across the hall, dressed in a deep obsidian coat trimmed with silver thread, a moonstone clasp at his throat. His hair was swept back, and the light caught on the cruel line of his jaw.
His gaze was unreadable.
I lifted my chin.
Then I turned away.
I didn't go to him. Didn't acknowledge his presence. I returned my focus to Darian and Thaliya, who both looked mildly surprised but politely said nothing.
Later, a page appeared at my side, bowing low. "His Majesty invites you to join him for dinner tomorrow evening."
I took the scroll. Opened it.
The script was familiar. Elegant. Dangerous.
I folded it shut.
"Tell His Majesty I'm honored by the invitation," I said softly. "But I must respectfully decline."
The page blinked. "Decline, my lady?"
"Respectfully," I repeated.
He bowed and left.
I didn't look back at Zevran again that evening.
But I felt him.
The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur. I danced once, twice. Spoke to nobles who smiled too widely and asked too many questions. I kept my answers vague. My smile pleasant.
Seraphine eventually returned to my side, eyes glowing. "The King keeps looking at you," she whispered.
"I know."
"Everyone keeps saying he hasn't taken his eyes off you since you arrived."
I looked down into my goblet. "Let them talk."
"He's walking this way," she hissed.
I didn't move. Didn't breathe.
Zevran stopped a few paces away. The crowd shifted subtly around us, giving space without seeming to.
He inclined his head. "Lady Aurenya."
"Your Majesty," I said coolly, refusing to curtsy.
His eyes studied me. "I missed your presence at dinner."
"I trust the food was still palatable."
A faint smile curved his lips. "You've changed."
"No," I said. "I've remembered."
He blinked.
For a moment—just a moment—his eyes flickered black. Not shadows. Not metaphor. Literal black. Darkness seeping into the whites like ink in water.
Then they were normal again.
But I had seen it.
And he knew I had.
My blood turned to ice.
He stepped closer. "You're not afraid of me."
"I've seen worse than you," I whispered.
Another flicker of that not-quite-smile. "Careful, Aurenya. You might start to intrigue me again."
I stepped back. "I'm not here to intrigue. I'm here to survive."
Then I turned and walked away, Seraphine hurrying after me.
My heart was a thunderstorm inside my chest. My hands were shaking. But I didn't stop. Not until we reached the edge of the hall and the palace doors loomed ahead.
I had changed the story.
In the past, I had gone to dinner.
In the pkkast, I had smiled and danced and let him charm me into his web.
Not this time.
This time, the spider had to spin a different trap.
And I was already cutting the threads.
—To be continued—