POV: Queen Luna Beatrice
Moonlight filtered through the towering windows of the palace library, casting silver pools of light across shelves that held centuries of forgotten knowledge. The flames of tall candles flickered, dancing across ancient tomes and scrolls that hummed faintly with residual magic.
Queen Luna Beatrice sat at the center of it all—quiet, composed, yet deeply burdened. The weight of prophecy lay heavy on her shoulders, as familiar as a crown but far more dangerous.
She carefully unrolled a weathered scroll, the parchment so fragile she could feel its history pulse beneath her fingertips. The ink—dark, shimmering, older than most kingdoms—revealed the lines she had read a hundred times, yet still feared.
“The chosen ones, born under twin moons,” she whispered, tracing
