THE HEIRESS BENEATH FIVE MOONS

The first sign that something was wrong was the silence. Not the peaceful kind. This silence felt alive. It spread across the ancient forests of Stargoldia, swallowing every howl, every rustle of leaves, every distant growl that usually filled the kingdom after sunset. The wolves had gone quiet. All of them. Even the guards posted along the palace walls noticed. One guard tilted his head toward the forest, his hand tightening around the spear resting beside him. “Do you hear that?” he whispered. His companion frowned and listened. “Hear what?” “Nothing.” The second guard looked toward the dark forest, then slowly back at him. “Yeah… that’s the problem.” Above them, the moon hung far too bright in the night sky, but it wasn’t alone. Five strange moons had appeared across the heavens. One was silver, one almost completely dark, one carried a faint crimson glow, another looked pale and cold, and the last was blue, deep and haunting. The guards stared upward, uneasy for reasons they couldn’t explain. But somewhere inside the royal palace, an old woman understood. She stood before a tall window, trembling hands pressed against the cold glass as she stared at the strange sky. Her face had gone pale. “She has come,” she whispered. Then the palace bells rang. Once. Twice. Three times. A scream followed. “THE QUEEN!” Everything broke at once. Guards abandoned their posts. Servants ran through the corridors. Healers rushed toward the royal chambers as though the walls themselves were on fire. At the center of it all, King Leonard stood outside the birthing room with blood on his hands. Not his blood. Janelle’s. His wife. His queen. The woman he loved. He had been ordered to wait outside while the healers helped her deliver the child. He had obeyed for exactly three minutes. Then he heard her scream. Leonard pushed the doors open. “Janelle!” The healers turned sharply. “Your Majesty, get out!” “No.” “Please!” “I said no!” His eyes found her. Janelle lay against the pillows, exhausted, her dark hair spread across the sheets like spilled ink. Her face was pale, her breathing shallow, yet she was smiling. And in her arms was a child. A little girl. Leonard stopped breathing. For a moment, the entire world seemed to disappear. “My daughter?” he whispered. Janelle looked down at the baby. “Yes.” Her voice was weak, but something in her expression made Leonard uneasy. “What’s wrong?” he asked. Janelle didn’t answer. He stepped closer. Then he saw the child’s eyes. Open. Light magenta. Strangely bright. The baby wasn’t crying. She simply stared at him, watching him as though she already knew him. Leonard slowly reached for her tiny hand. The moment his finger touched hers, every candle in the room went out. All of them. The healers gasped. A violent gust of wind tore through the chamber, slamming the shutters open. Curtains whipped through the air. Papers scattered across the floor. And somewhere beyond the palace walls, the wolves started howling. All at once. Leonard turned toward the windows. “What is happening?” No one answered. Then the baby began to glow. Not brightly. Just enough. Enough for everyone in the room to see the golden markings forming beneath her skin. A delicate pattern spread across the infant’s tiny body, glowing like sunlight trapped beneath her flesh. A pattern like stars. Like a crown. Like something that had been waiting centuries to return. One of the healers dropped to her knees. “No…” Leonard looked at her sharply. “What?” She couldn’t speak. Janelle did. “The Stargold mark.” Leonard turned toward his wife. “What does that mean?” Janelle held their daughter tighter. “It means they were right.” “Who?” Janelle’s gaze drifted toward the door. Fear crept into her eyes. “They know.” Leonard’s expression hardened. “Who knows?” Before Janelle could answer, the doors opened. Thelma stood there, several members of the royal household behind her. Her eyes immediately went to the baby. For a brief moment, something flickered across her face. Fear. Then it vanished. “Leonard,” she said quietly. “What are you doing here?” he demanded. “I heard the child was born.” He stepped between her and Janelle. “You can see her tomorrow.” Thelma’s eyes narrowed. “Of course.” She turned to leave, but at the threshold, she stopped and looked back at the baby. She stared at the golden glow beneath the child's skin for a moment longer than she should have, then walked away. The door closed. Janelle exhaled shakily. “Leonard.” He turned. “What?” “If you ever loved me…” “Don’t talk like that.” “Listen to me.” Something in her voice made him stop. He sat beside her. “I’m listening.” “Protect her.” His eyes moved to the baby. “I will.” “No matter what anyone tells you.” “I said I will.” “Even if they say she’s dangerous.” Leonard frowned. “Why would anyone say that?” Janelle’s eyes filled with tears. “Because she’s different.” The baby shifted in her arms. Janelle lowered her head and kissed her forehead. “She’s more than a princess.” Leonard’s jaw tightened. “What are you saying?” Janelle looked toward the window. The five moons still burned above them. “She carries something that should’ve stayed asleep.” A sudden crash echoed somewhere in the palace. Screams followed. The baby finally began to cry, and the five moons seemed to brighten. Leonard immediately drew his sword. “Stay here.” Janelle grabbed his wrist. “No.” He looked at her. “Don’t leave her.” He hesitated, then slowly lowered the blade. “I won’t.” For a moment, only the baby’s crying filled the room. Then Janelle’s grip loosened. Her eyes closed. “Janelle?” No response. “Janelle.” A healer rushed forward. Leonard caught her in his arms. “Wake her.” “Your Majesty…” “Wake her.” The healer’s eyes filled with tears. Leonard stared at him. “WAKE HER!” The healer lowered his head. “Your Majesty…” “No.” Leonard’s voice became quieter. “No.” The healer whispered the words. “She’s gone.” Something inside Leonard broke. He held Janelle against his chest as their daughter cried beside them. Outside, the wolves howled louder. In the corridor, someone whispered, “The queen is dead.” Another voice answered, “What about the child?” A pause. Then came the answer. “The child cannot remain.” Behind a half-open door, a boy stood frozen. Cassian. He had heard everything. His young face had gone pale as he looked toward the royal chamber, then toward the adults whispering in the corridor. His small hands curled into fists. They were going to take the princess, and no one was going to tell his father. Cassian turned and ran. He didn’t know where he was going. He only knew he had to find someone. Anyone. But before he reached the end of the corridor, a voice stopped him. “Cassian.” He froze. His mother stood behind him. He slowly turned. She smiled. “Where are you going?” Cassian said nothing. She stepped closer. “Did you hear something?” He swallowed. “No.” She studied him for a long moment, then smiled again. “Good boy.” That night, the palace mourned Queen Janelle. Before sunrise, another announcement spread through the kingdom. The newborn princess was dead. The people believed it. The royal family believed it. King Leonard believed it. But it was a lie. While the kingdom mourned a child who supposedly never lived long enough to see morning, a servant slipped through a hidden passage beneath the palace. She moved quickly through the darkness, clutching a small bundle against her chest. Inside that bundle was the princess. The baby was wrapped in black cloth. Her golden mark was hidden. Her name was forbidden. Her bloodline was erased. The servant never looked back. Behind her, the palace became smaller and smaller until its lights disappeared into the darkness. By dawn, the princess was gone. No one knew where she had been taken. No one knew who had ordered her disappearance. And no one knew whether she would ever return. Sixteen years later, the kingdom would learn the truth. But by then, the little princess would no longer remember that she had ever been one. She would grow up believing she belonged to another family, another world, another life. She would never know why she looked nothing like the people who raised her. She would never understand why strangers sometimes stared at her as though they had seen a ghost. She would never know why strange dreams followed her every night—dreams of a palace she had never visited, a woman whose face she could never remember, a golden wolf standing beneath five moons, and a voice calling her name from somewhere beyond the darkness. Goldiana. But the five moons had not forgotten her. Neither had the blood running through her veins. And neither had the kingdom that had once mourned her death. The night the wolves fell silent was only the beginning. The night the princess returned would be far more dangerous.