You stand on the eastern balcony of Thornrose Keep, moonlight washing your white skin until you looked like a statue carved from starlight. Below, the city sleeps—unaware that the palace hums with arguments, prayers, and blame.

You press your fingers to the silver sigil at your throat, the crescent mark of Astrae Lysara, Goddess of the Moon and Hidden Stars. You have loved her since you were a child. The quiet glow. The promises whispered in dreams. The way she listens when others do not.

Behind you hear footsteps.

You’re twin sister

Solenne Thornrose moves like fire given form—red-gold skin, eyes bright as dawn, horns polished and proud. High Priestess-in-training of Heliovar, the Sun Father, god of law, judgment, and unyielding truth. Where you kneel beneath the night sky, she stands beneath banners of gold.

“You’re praying again,” Solenne says coolly. “The court is already uneasy. Father says the nobles are watching you.”

You turn to face her. “I only want them to understand Astrae. The moon guides as surely as the sun. Why must she be hidden?”

Her jaw tightens. “Because shadows breed doubt. And doubt breeds treason.”

The words sting more than you expected.

Lately, everything you do is questioned. Your sermons are called heresy. Your followers are called dangerous. And every time something goes wrong in the kingdom—every famine, every bad omen—eyes turn toward you.

Toward the moon.

Solenne steps closer, voice low. “Be careful. I won’t always be able to stand between you and the council.”

You searched her face, trying to find the sister who used to sneak onto the roof with you to count stars. “Would you truly let them condemn me?”

Her silence is worse than an answer.

Above us, the moon slips behind a cloud.

And for the first time in your life, you feel the stars watching—not with comfort, but with warning.