Tangled in Vines

Here Comes the Moon pt2

“Rumor has it the King’s Envoy is going to be here tonight,” Aeloria whispered conspiratorially, glancing at me with wide eyes. “I wonder… does that mean the King himself will come?”

I shook my head as I moved toward our door. “Why would he come if he’s sending a delegation?” Our shared common room led into the sleeping quarters on either side. We could have had our own chambers, but chose instead to lean into this sisterhood when our parents joined their lives.

“For fun, obviously,” she called over her shoulder as she slipped into her room.

“Fun isn’t in his nature,” I retorted, pausing by the window. Already our maids rushed into her room, the rustle of fabric and hushed exclamations signaling the battle with her gown.

“He’s known for strategy and intimidation,” I added.

“True,” she admitted between muffled grunts, “but there’s also the little fact that he’s a known ladies’ man. What if he does come—and sees me across the room and…”

“And whisks you off your feet, declaring you his fated mate?” I cut her off.

“Yes!” She giggled, dreamy and unashamed. I could picture the look on her face—eyes shining, already halfway lost in her own fantasy.

“Then who am I to stop fate—or mock it?” I laughed softly and pressed my forehead against the cool glass of the window. Below, Moonveil shifted from day to night, the city lanterns winking to life, banners of every pack rippling against the rising dusk. The air carried a faint spice of roasting meats from the kitchens, mixing with the metallic scent of evening dew.

“Exactly,” Aeloria muttered, her voice muffled as though her gown were a beast she was wrestling into submission.

I let out a slow breath, the weight of the week pressing down. Dignitaries had been arriving for days, Alphas greeted and escorted to their lodgings. Father and Serenya had scarcely been home at all. And tonight, all the weeks of preparation would culminate in the signing of the Accords—after feasting, toasts, and politics in every corner.

It was going to be a long evening.

I let my forehead rest against the glass, the city lights of Moonveil glimmering like scattered jewels below. For all my teasing of Aeloria, I couldn’t deny a quiet curiosity stirring in my chest. I had never left Moonveil—never walked the courts of Duskrun or stood beneath Silverglade’s willows. Tonight would be my first glimpse of them all together, and I wondered what stories lived behind those banners fluttering in the dusk.

The door to Aeloria’s room opened with a sudden rush of perfume and rustling silk. She stepped out, glowing, her gown a vision of Moonveil gold with wisps of dawn-pink and white pearls sewn across the bodice. Every inch of her shimmered like a princess out of one of her own romantic tales.

“Well?” she asked, spinning once, her skirt fanning in a perfect circle.

I laughed, though it caught a little in my throat. “You look exactly like someone who believes the King will fall in love at first sight.”

She beamed at me, unbothered by my tone. “And why not?”

I only shook my head, turning toward my own room. My gown waited, folded and pressed—rose-pink silk with gold accents. Extravagant, yes, but more practical than Aeloria’s sweeping finery. If she was a vision of romance, I would be the quieter counterpoint: still dazzling, but grounded.

The maids were already waiting, their hands quick and practiced as they loosened the laces of my simple house dress. Layer by layer, the gown of deep pink and gold slid into place. Tonight—between politics, promises, and pageantry—something would change. I just didn’t yet know what.

The gown was the latest fashion, its rounded neckline edged in gold trim and pearls that gleamed softly in the candlelight. Long, draping sleeves brushed against my sides, and the bodice was embroidered with delicate vines and tiny stars, each star set with a Moonveil stone. The skirt flowed heavy and full, swaying with a quiet grace when I moved, cinched at the waist with a narrow golden belt.

“Perfect,” Serenya’s voice carried into the room as she stepped through the doorway. Her gaze swept over us, soft and proud. “My two girls—shining like the true jewels of Moonveil.”

Aeloria rushed into her mother’s arms, and Serenya extended her other arm toward me without hesitation. I let myself be pulled into the embrace, her warmth steady as she held us close.

“I knew these gowns would suit you,” she said, her eyes shining. “Now—hair first. You both look as though you’ve just stumbled off a ship in stormy seas.”

Aeloria laughed. I groaned. Elaborate hairstyles were my personal battlefield; a simple bun would never do tonight.

At the vanity, brushes, pins, and ribbons lay waiting like weapons for war. Serenya guided Aeloria into the chair first, fingers moving with brisk efficiency.

“You’ll thank me later,” she promised.

“For what? The stabbing?” Aeloria muttered. “These pins are torture devices.”

“They hold more than hair,” Serenya replied, her tone firm but fond. “They remind the world that grace takes endurance.”

“That’s exactly what a torturer would say,” Aeloria grumbled, making me stifle a laugh.

“You’re next,” Serenya warned, catching my reflection in the mirror.

I slouched into the chair. “I’d rather face a pack of rogues than twenty hairpins.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Aeloria sing-songed, wincing as another pin went in.

When it was my turn, Serenya’s touch softened, weaving careful braids and twists. “Yours must shine tonight,” she murmured. “The gown calls for starlight.”

“It feels more like you’re building a fortress on my head,” I complained.

“An elegant fortress,” Aeloria chimed, preening at her reflection. “Perfect for when the King’s circle arrives.”

Her grin caught me in the mirror. “You think he’ll really be here?”

“Of course,” she said breathlessly. “How could the most powerful wolf in Silver Wilde resist dazzling us all?”

I rolled my eyes, but Serenya only smiled. “Spoilsport,” Aeloria pouted.

When Serenya finished, she turned my face toward the glass. For a moment I didn’t recognize the girl staring back at me. Gold-threaded braids gleamed, tiny pearls catching the candlelight. The gown shimmered with every breath, the vines and stars embroidered across the bodice looking almost alive. She looked like she belonged beside queens and kings. She looked beautiful.

I wasn’t sure she looked like me.

Serenya’s hands came to rest lightly on my shoulders. In the mirror, her smile softened, touched with something wistful. “Your mother would be so proud of the young lady you’ve become,” she said quietly. “Because we both are.”

My throat tightened, words caught somewhere between my chest and lips. I nodded instead, pressing my hands over hers in silent thanks.

Aeloria looped her arm through mine, radiant in her Moonveil gold and pearls. “Come on, sister. Time to dazzle the entire realm.”

Together, we descended to the great hall. Lygaris stood waiting at the bottom of the stairs, resplendent in his Alpha’s finery. His stern face softened the instant he saw us. “My girls,” he said with a rare, proud smile. From behind his back, he produced two small boxes, one for each of us. “No daughter of Moonveil walks into the Accords empty-handed.”

Lygaris drew out two velvet boxes, one for each of us. “No daughter of Moonveil walks into the Accords empty-handed.”

Inside, nestled against silk, lay bracelets of gold—delicate but strong. Pink diamonds glittered like starlight, darker pink sapphires glowed like embers, each stone linked together in a pattern that echoed the Moonveil crest.

My breath caught as I lifted mine, and examined it like I was a jeweler from StoneHide. Aeloria gasped, holding hers up so it caught the light.

“They’re beautiful,” she whispered.

“They’re Moonveil,” Father corrected gently, though pride shone in his eyes.

Serenya stepped closer and lifted her arm, revealing the same bracelet glinting against her skin. Father had given one to each of us—first me, then Aeloria, and long ago to her.

We held our arms out side by side, the gold catching the firelight, pink stones burning like captured stars.

For a heartbeat, the noise of the hall faded away. It was just the four of us, bound not only by duty but by memory. By love. By Moonveil.