Velkynara stood a few feet from the window, her silver hair catching the last light of the afternoon sun. Her green eyes watched the tree line beyond the palace walls, but her mind was elsewhere. She had been standing there for an hour. Waiting.

A soft tapping came from the glass.

She moved forward and opened the window. A black raven sat on the sill, its leg wrapped with a tiny scroll bound in red thread. She recognized the bird and the seal pressed into the wax was from The Temple Of Lycanthria.

Velkynara removed the scroll with steady fingers. She unrolled it and read.

To Queen Velkynara of Lythorien, House of Duskaryn Court. The time has come. The heiress is ready. You are needed in Lycanthria. Come as soon as you are able.

—Caelina, High Priestess Of The Moon Goddess.

As she read the words over and over again, a warmth spread across her chest. It was something she had not felt in years. It felt like a release. Like the door of a cage finally swinging open.

Velkynara had made a promise to Lyra. That promise had sat inside her for more than a decade, heavy and unmoving. She swore an oath to Lyra, in the last days before everything fell apart, that she would protect her children. She had meant it then. She meant it now.

Months ago, when Caelina’s first message had arrived, it revealed the Heiress being mated to four men and chosen by the Moon Goddess. Velkynara had written back immediately. She had offered to train the heiress herself. She had promised to come when the time was right. Then, a second, third, and fourth message updating her about the Heiress.

Now the time was right.

Velkynara folded the scroll and tucked it into the sleeve of her silver gown. She left the chamber.

The throne hall of Lythorien was a long room built into the roots of the great trees that grew through the center of the palace. Pillars of living wood rose to the ceiling. Torches burned in iron brackets, but the main light came from the open roof above the throne, where the sky showed through.

The council meeting had just ended. Elders filed out of the hall in small groups, their robes brushing the stone floor. When they saw Velkynara approaching, they stopped and bowed. She nodded at them but did not slow her pace.

She walked into the hall.

King Elarion of Lythorien from the House of Willowmere Court sat on the throne. He was tall for an elf, broad-shouldered, with ash blonde hair and blue eyes. His crown was made of woven branches. He looked up when she entered, and his face shifted almost immediately into something tight and annoyed.

He knew that smile. He had seen it years ago, before the grief had settled into her bones. It was not a smile he liked. It meant she wanted something. It meant she was leaving him again.

Velkynara stopped before the throne. "A message arrived," she said.

Elarion did not need to ask what it said. He already knew. The ravens from Lycanthria had been coming for months. He had watched her read each one, had watched something flicker behind her eyes each time.

He did not respond. But she kept talking.

"It is from Caelina, the High Priestess of Lycanthria. She says the heiress is ready. I am needed there. So I will be leaving." She said.

Elarion looked at her for a long moment. Then he raised his hand and gestured to the guards standing along the walls.

"Leave us," he said.

The guards filed out. The doors closed behind them. The hall was empty except for the two of them.

"When do you intend to leave?" Elarion asked.

"As soon as possible. I have been preparing for months. Most of my things are already packed." Velkynara replied.

He nodded slowly. His fingers tapped the arm of the throne. "You cannot leave," Elarion stated.

Velkynara’s smile disappeared. "I beg your pardon?"

Elarion shook his head. "You are a queen. You are the mother of the Elves. Your duty is to remain in this kingdom. So you can not simply pack your things and leave because you received a letter."

A frown crossed her expression. She scoffed. "Shouldn’t you be happy I am leaving? Finally, you can get rid of me. Install your favorite puppet as queen. The concubine you have been parading through the palace for the past thirty years. What is her name? Aelira?"

Elarion stood up from the throne. He walked down the fifteen steps and stopped in front of her. He was taller than her, but she did not step back.

"I have no intention of making anyone else my queen. You remain queen."

Velkynara laughed. "When did you change your mind?" she asked. "For thirty-seven years, you have told me I was not enough because I could not give you sons. You told me I was too cold. Too distant. That I spend too much time in my chambers and not enough time at your side. You told me I was a failure of a wife. You told me you should have married someone else. And now, suddenly, you want me to stay?" She queried.

"You are twisting my words."

"I am repeating them!" Velkynara snapped. "Should I call the scribes? We can pull the records. I am sure they have written down every complaint you have made over the years. There were so many." She gritted.

Elarion’s jaw tightened. "You are still queen because you are feared and loved by the people. If I set you aside, there would be rebellion within a week. You know this."

"So I am a political necessity," Velkynara said. "How flattering."

"You are taking this too far."

"I am taking nothing," she said. "I am leaving. And you cannot stop me."

Elarion stepped closer. His voice dropped. "I can," he said.

"You can’t!"

"I am the king! I am your husband!" He yelled.

"You are a man who married me for an alliance. You never loved me. I never loved you. We performed our duties. I produced three daughters. You never loved them. And then you found other women to give you the sons I could not. That was our arrangement. You do not get to claim authority over me now because it suits your pride."

"My pride?" Elarion laughed, but there was no humor in it. "This is not about pride. This is about you running back to a place that nearly destroyed you."

Velkynara went still.

Elarion continued. "Lycanthria took everything from you. You left that kingdom broken. You barely spoke for a year. It took years for you to return to functioning. And now, because a priestess sends you a letter, you are ready to go back?"

"I am not broken anymore."

"No, you are worse," Elarion said. "Can’t you pretend nothing happened?"

She looked at him. "How can I pretend nothing happened?" she repeated. "Lyra died. My best friend died. And you stand there and want me to pretend that did not happen?"

"I want you to stop letting her ghost control your life! Lyra has been dead for ten years. Or more than ten years, Velkynara. And you still—"

Tears pooled in her eyes. "Do not say her name," Velkynara said. Her voice was quiet. "You do not get to say her name."

Elarion exhaled. He turned away from her and walked back toward the throne. He did not sit. He stood with his back to her, his hands on the armrests.

"Do you know what it was like?" he asked. "Watching you grieve a woman I could never compete with? Even after she died, she was still between us. She was always between us."

"That is not true."

"It is true," Elarion said. He turned around. "I spent years trying to earn even a fraction of the devotion you gave her. And I never came close. I am your husband. I am the father of your children. But—" He paused. "I am always the second choice. The arrangement. The alliance. While she—she was the one you actually wanted."

Velkynara said nothing.

He swallowed hard. "She is dead," Elarion said. "And still, she wins. You hear the name Lycanthria, and your face changes. You read a letter from that kingdom, and you start smiling for the first time in years. You think I did not notice? You think I am blind?"

Tears streamed down her right cheek. "I never healed from her death. I just learned to carry the grief."

"And going back will heal you?"

"No," she said. "But helping her child might do me some good. It is the only thing left I can do for her."

Elarion stared at her. His expression shifted. Not softer, exactly. But something moved behind his eyes.

"You truly loved her. Not as best friend but a lover." He said.

"Yes, I did." She admitted.

Elarion has always known Velkynara had been in love with Lyra. That the feelings had grown slowly over the years they spent together in the Circle of Sisterhood. Velkynara had tried so hard to hide it.

Then, when Lyra had died, something inside Velkynara had died too. She had left Lycanthria not because she wanted to, but because she could not stay in a place where every corner reminded her of what she had lost.

She did not need to spell it out to him cause the truth was already written on her face.

Elarion looked away first. "Fine. But if you must leave, then you will take the girls with you."

Velkynara blinked. "What?" 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

"Your daughters, they will go with you to Lycanthria."

"They have never left the palace."

"Exactly. They have been coddled and sheltered their entire lives. Perhaps some time away will do them good. Perhaps they will learn something their father could not teach them."

Velkynara studied his face. She was trying to understand what he was doing. An act of kindness? A punishment? A way to remind her that she was still a mother, still tied to him through their children?

"Fine! They never truly belonged here! Not in this palace. Not with you."

Elarion’s expression did not change. He had heard worse from her. Much worse.

"Perhaps not. But they are still your daughters. And if you are going to leave this kingdom, you will take them with you. That is my condition." He started clearly.

Velkynara looked at him for a long moment. Then she turned and walked toward the doors.

"Ensure the girls have enough time to prepare," Elarion called after her.

Velkynara stopped at the doors, but she did not turn around. "Stop acting as if you care about them," she said.

Then she pulled the doors open and walked out of the hall.

The guards outside bowed as she passed. She did not bother to acknowledge them. Her mind was already somewhere else. Lycanthria. The heiress. The promise she had made years ago, in a room filled with grief and smoke and the smell of burning herbs.

She would keep that promise. She would train Lyra’s daughter. She would protect her children. And when it was done, she would decide what came next.

But for now, she made her way to the library. She had three daughters to tell that they were leaving the only home they had ever known.