THE PRINCESS AND THE MOON GOD

“Did you hear it last night?” “No. I was asleep.” “That’s a lie. Nobody sleeps when the moon is full.” The two guards stood by the palace gate, spears in hand, eyes lifted to the sky. The moon hung low and bright, round like a watching eye. “I swear,” the first guard whispered, “I heard someone crying. Then nothing. Just wet footprints in the street.” “Stop talking,” the second guard said quickly. “If the moon hears you—” The palace doors opened with a soft creak. Princess Elira stood there, wrapped in a simple blue cloak. “Good evening,” she said calmly. Both guards jumped and bowed at once. “Princess, you should not be outside,” one of them said. “It’s late.” “I couldn’t sleep,” Elira replied. “People are whispering again, aren’t they?” The guards exchanged a look. “No, Your Highness,” the second guard said. “All is quiet.” Elira looked past them, down the long stone road that led into the city. The streets were empty. Too empty. No laughter. No music. Just silence and moonlight. “They said the baker’s son is gone,” she said softly. “That’s the third this week.” The guards said nothing. Elira turned back toward the palace. “Good night.” She walked inside, her footsteps light but uneasy. Inside the castle, everything shone. Polished floors. Tall walls. Candles flickering like small stars. But even here, the moonlight found its way in, sliding through windows and resting on the floor like silver dust. Elira paused and looked down at it. “I see you,” she whispered, though she did not know why. High above, in the king’s chamber, King Alric stood by the window, his face pale. “It’s happening too fast,” he said. The Queen sat on the bed, hands folded tight in her lap. “We knew this day would come.” “No,” the king snapped. “I won’t accept that.” A knock came at the door. “Father?” Elira’s voice. The king turned. “Come in, my star.” Elira entered and looked between her parents. “You’re afraid.” The Queen tried to smile. “We’re just tired.” “Elira is not a child,” the king said. “She knows the stories.” The Queen sighed. “Yes. She does.” Elira sat beside her mother. “They say the moon loves people.” The room went very quiet. “They say,” Elira continued, “it chooses one person every night. It takes them before morning. No bodies. Only footprints in the dew.” The king’s jaw tightened. “Those are lies.” “Are they?” Elira asked. The Queen reached out and held Elira’s hand. “Long ago, the moon was worshipped as a god. It grew lonely. And I'm jealous.” “And greedy,” the king added. Elira looked up at the ceiling. “What happens to the people it takes?” “No one knows,” the Queen said gently. The moonlight suddenly grew brighter, washing over the room. Elira felt cold. “Father,” she said slowly, “why is the light so strong tonight?” The king stepped back from the window. His face had gone white. Because the moon had turned. It was no longer hanging over the city. It was facing the palace. Facing her. The next morning, the king called for mirrors. “Every kind,” he ordered. “Tall ones. Wide ones. Polished glass. I want them stacked around the princess’s tower.” The builders stared at him. “All around it, Your Majesty?” “Yes,” the king said. “Let no moonlight touch her walls.” By sunset, the tower was surrounded. Mirrors covered the stone like armor. They caught the moonlight and threw it back into the sky. The people gathered and whispered. “You can’t block a god,” someone muttered. “Hush,” another said. “At least the king is trying.” That night, Elira stood inside her tower room, looking at her reflection again and again. A hundred Eliras stared back at her from the mirrors outside. “I look like a ghost,” she murmured. Her maid, Tessa, tried to laugh. “You look like a queen.” “I don’t feel like one.” Tessa hesitated. “Princess… Do you believe the moon thinks?” Elira answered without turning. “Yes.” Tessa swallowed. “Does it… speak?” Elira opened her mouth to reply. Then she froze. Because someone had spoken. “Elira.” It was soft. Deep. Not loud, but everywhere at once. Tessa gasped. “Did you hear that?” Elira nodded slowly. Her heart was beating fast. “Leave me,” Elira said. “But—” “Please.” Tessa ran. Elira stepped closer to the window. The mirrors outside trembled, just a little. “You can’t see me,” Elira said, trying to sound brave. “The light can’t reach me.” A gentle laugh filled the room. “Light is not how I see,” the voice said. “I see by names.” Elira’s breath caught. “You know my name.” “I have always known it.” Fear rose in her chest, but so did anger. “You take people,” she said. “You leave nothing behind.” “I leave memories,” the moon replied. “You all forget them too quickly.” Elira clenched her fists. “You won’t take me.” There was a pause. Then the voice softened. “I did not come to take you tonight,” the moon said. “I came to tell you.” “Tell me what?” “That glass cannot hide a heart that shines.” The mirrors cracked. Not all at once. Just one. Then another. Elira stepped back, trembling. Outside, the moon burned bright and patient. And for the first time in her life, Elira understood something very clearly. The moon was not hunting her. It was waiting.