Leah
The banquet had reached its ceremonial crescendo. Her Majesty presided from the high throne like a living constellation—silver hair crowned with diamonds, midnight gown pooling around her like spilled ink. One by one, the elite of the kingdom approached, offering murmured blessings and shallow curtsies while she acknowledged them with the barest tilt of her golden gaze.
Then the moonflowers arrived.
A long table appeared near the dais, laden with the rare blooms—silvery petals kissed with lavender at the edges, stems vicious with thorns that gleamed like tiny silver blades. The ladies of the court drifted toward it in a graceful swarm, sleeves pushed back, small knives at the ready. No one announced it as a competition, but the air crackled with one anyway. Whose wreath would be th
