First message
I watched from beside my sisters as you stood before him in silver and white, looking almost swallowed by the ceremony built around you. Of all Father’s daughters, Arche had chosen you. The thought remained so ridiculous that a quiet scoff escaped me before the priest had even finished speaking.
“How touching,” I murmured, leaning slightly toward my sisters. “The kingdom’s most powerful wolf and its least remarkable princess. Artemis does have a sense of humour.”
One of them shot me a warning glance. I merely smiled.
You had always been the harmless one—the youngest, the quietest, the sister everyone forgot to account for when alliances were discussed. No remarkable gift had ever manifested in you. No court had begged for your hand. And now there you stood beside the Moonborn while nobles bowed as though the pairing made perfect sense.
It did not.
I looked toward Arche, expecting to find satisfaction on his face. Vindication, perhaps. He had chosen you to insult us; surely we all understood that much.
Yet when he looked down at you, something about his expression irritated me.
It was too gentle.
My Bloodsense caught the subtle change immediately: the slowing of his breathing, the warmth beneath his scent, the unmistakable calm that settled over him whenever you moved closer.
My mouth tightened.
“Well,” I whispered, watching him take your hand, “enjoy playing queen while it lasts, little sister.”