Nova’s pov
The courtyard of Moonhaven Palace shimmered with soft golden lights strung between ancient stone arches and silver-draped trees. Moonflowers, carefully tended by palace gardeners, released their night-sweet scent, a calming balm against the nerves fluttering in Nova’s stomach. She stood just inside the open archway leading to the terrace, Elijah pressed gently to her chest, his tiny hand clutching the fabric of her gown.
This moment — this ceremony — wasn’t steeped in the archaic rituals of the old world, but it still carried the weight of tradition and power. And Nova, though Queen and Moonborn, still felt like the girl who had once wandered the woods with dreams instead of crowns.
Max stood at her side, solid and warm, Edwin resting in the crook of his arm. He leaned over a
