THE CHOSEN LUNA
1210 Words
Elaria did not cry until she was alone.
The moment she left the Grand Moon Plaza, she kept walking.
Past the silver fountains.
Past the noble gardens.
Past the cheering crowds celebrating Lady Seraphina’s blessing.
She walked faster.
And faster.
Until the sounds faded behind her.
Only then did the first tear fall.
Then another.
Then another.
The humiliation replayed endlessly inside her mind.
“You should leave.”
The Prince’s voice.
Cold.
Uncaring.
“You embarrass yourself by remaining.”
Every word felt like a knife twisting deeper.
The worst part wasn’t the rejection.
It was the laughter.
The hundreds of faces watching.
The satisfaction in Seraphina’s eyes.
The pity in the Priestess’s expression.
Pity.
Elaria hated pity.
She would rather be hated.
At least hatred acknowledged your existence.
Pity meant people had already decided you were beneath them.
A fresh wave of tears blurred her vision.
She stopped beside a stone bridge overlooking the Moonwater Canal.
The city glittered beautifully around her.
Silver lanterns reflected across the water.
Music drifted through the streets.
Asterlyn was celebrating.
But not for her.
Never for her.
Tonight belonged to Lady Seraphina Vale.
The kingdom’s newest darling.
The chosen one.
The future queen.
The future mate of Crown Prince Lucien.
Elaria laughed bitterly.
A broken sound.
Then she heard footsteps.
She immediately wiped her eyes.
Too late.
A familiar voice spoke.
“Elaria.”
She turned.
Her chest tightened.
Lysa.
Her closest friend.
Or at least she had thought so.
The two had grown up together in the outer district.
Shared meals.
Shared secrets.
Shared dreams.
Lysa approached carefully.
“I was looking for you.”
Elaria forced a smile.
“I’m fine.”
Lysa didn’t return it.
Instead, she glanced away.
The reaction felt strange.
Uncomfortable.
“What is it?”
Lysa hesitated.
Then sighed.
“Elaria…”
The tone alone told her everything.
Her stomach dropped.
“What?”
Lysa looked genuinely guilty.
Which somehow made it worse.
“My family doesn’t want me spending time with you anymore.”
Silence.
The words hung between them.
Cold.
Sharp.
Unbelievable.
Elaria stared.
“What?”
Lysa swallowed.
“They think… after tonight…”
The sentence died.
Neither needed it finished.
After tonight.
After the humiliation.
After the rejection.
After proving she wasn’t worthy.
Elaria took a step back.
Her heart hurt.
Far more than it should.
Because she had expected cruelty from nobles.
Expected it from Seraphina.
Expected it from the Prince.
But not from Lysa.
Never Lysa.
“You agree with them?”
The question escaped before she could stop it.
Lysa looked away.
That answer hurt most of all.
Tears burned behind Elaria’s eyes again.
She refused to let them fall.
Not now.
Not in front of someone abandoning her.
Lysa reached forward.
“Elaria, please—”
“No.”
The word emerged sharper than intended.
Lysa froze.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Lysa lowered her hand.
Slowly.
Sadly.
And walked away.
Elaria watched her go.
Another piece of her life disappearing.
Another person deciding she wasn’t worth keeping.
The loneliness settled heavily inside her chest.
And for the first time—
She truly felt alone.
⸻
Meanwhile…
The Grand Moon Plaza was still celebrating.
Music filled the air.
Wine flowed freely.
Nobles danced beneath silver banners.
At the center of everything stood Lady Seraphina Vale.
Glowing.
Victorious.
Beautiful.
Everything the kingdom wanted.
The crowd adored her.
Every smile.
Every word.
Every movement.
She basked in it.
Enjoyed it.
Owned it.
Nearby stood Crown Prince Lucien.
Watching.
Several nobles approached him.
Offering congratulations.
Speaking of destiny.
Speaking of future marriages.
Speaking of the kingdom’s future queen.
Lucien accepted the praise calmly.
Yet his thoughts drifted elsewhere.
Toward the girl who had left.
Toward Elaria.
Not because he cared.
Simply because something about her expression lingered.
The look in her eyes after his words.
The look of someone breaking.
He frowned slightly.
Then dismissed the thought.
It wasn’t his concern.
She was nobody.
A common girl.
An unfortunate distraction.
Nothing more.
Or so he told himself.
⸻
Across the plaza, Seraphina noticed his momentary distraction.
And she didn’t like it.
Not one bit.
Her smile remained perfect.
But irritation stirred beneath it.
She followed his gaze.
Toward the direction Elaria had disappeared.
A small crease appeared between her brows.
Then vanished.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
The Prince had looked after her.
Only briefly.
But Seraphina noticed everything.
And she didn’t share attention.
Not with anyone.
Especially not an orphan.
⸻
Hours later…
Elaria finally returned home.
The small house on the edge of the city looked exactly as it always had.
Simple.
Warm.
Safe.
Or at least it used to feel safe.
Tonight it felt different.
Smaller.
Colder.
More fragile.
Mira sat waiting beside the hearth.
The elderly woman immediately rose.
Concern filling her eyes.
“Oh, child…”
Elaria collapsed into her embrace.
And finally allowed herself to cry.
The tears came all at once.
Weeks.
Months.
Years.
Of loneliness.
Of rejection.
Of wanting to belong.
Mira held her tightly.
Never letting go.
“It’s alright.”
“No, it’s not.”
Elaria’s voice cracked.
“It never is.”
The pain behind those words shattered Mira’s heart.
The old woman closed her eyes.
Because she knew something Elaria didn’t.
Something she had hidden for nineteen years.
Something that would change everything.
Soon.
Far sooner than she wished.
A knock suddenly echoed through the house.
Both women froze.
The sound came again.
Harder.
More urgent.
Mira frowned.
Nobody visited this late.
Especially not tonight.
She moved toward the door.
Opened it.
And immediately went pale.
Elaria noticed.
“Mira?”
The elderly woman didn’t answer.
She simply stared.
As though she had seen a ghost.
Slowly, Elaria stood.
Then looked past Mira.
A messenger stood outside.
Wearing royal colors.
The symbol of the Silver Court gleamed on his cloak.
The sight alone was enough to make her stomach twist.
The messenger bowed.
Not to Mira.
To Elaria.
The entire room fell silent.
The messenger finally spoke.
“By order of the Dominion Council…”
His voice echoed through the house.
Formal.
Cold.
Official.
“…you are commanded to appear before the Silver Court at sunrise.”
Elaria’s breath caught.
“What?”
The messenger remained expressionless.
“The Council requires your presence.”
Mira’s face had gone completely white.
The reaction terrified Elaria.
Because Mira wasn’t surprised.
She was afraid.
Deeply afraid.
The messenger handed over a silver-sealed scroll.
Then turned.
And disappeared into the night.
Silence remained behind.
Elaria stared at the seal.
The seal of the Council.
The most powerful people in the Dominion.
Why would they want her?
A nobody.
An orphan.
A girl who had just humiliated herself before the entire kingdom.
Her hands trembled slightly.
“Mira…”
The old woman didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, she stared toward the dark window.
Toward the moon.
Toward something only she seemed to understand.
And when she finally spoke—
Her voice was barely a whisper.
“They know.”
Elaria frowned.
“What do they know?”
Mira looked at her.
Fear filled her eyes.
Real fear.
And for the first time in nineteen years—
Elaria realized Mira had been hiding something from her.
- Writer
