Selene sat near the cradle, rocking Dayla gently. She stirred but did not wake, her soft breathing filled the chamber.
A soft knock at the door broke the calm.
“Enter,” Selene called, her voice low, careful not to wake the child.
The door creaked open, and Ara stepped in. Her cloak hung loose over her thin frame, her eyes sharp but heavy.
Selene smiled. “Ara. You came to see the baby?”
Ara shook her head. “I came to see you, my queen. There is a dream, a warning I cannot keep to myself.”
Selene tilted her head. “Then sit. When Liam returns, you can tell us both.”
Ara quickly lifted her hand. “No. Not the king. Not now. I will not be the one to spoil his joy. His heart is still dancing from the birth. Let him have that.”
Selene frowned. “What do you mean? What is so heavy you cannot
