The village was a fever dream of color and motion. Usually a place of quiet contemplation and ancient rituals, it had been transformed into a hive of frantic energy. Men balanced on rickety ladders, hammering up silk banners that snapped in the wind, while others strung glass lanterns across the narrow cobblestone streets—thousands of them, waiting to be lit so they could pulse like captured fireflies against the night sky.
Everywhere Alvira looked, there was the high-pitched chorus of girlish laughter. The dress shops were overflowing; young witches spilled out onto the sidewalks, clutching fabrics of gossamer and gold, their faces flushed with the intoxicating hope of the Starweave.
This was the month they all lived for. When the twin moons converged, the Goddess Luna would look down and choose the girls worthy of the Soulbound Ritual. To find a soulmate was to find a tether to the universe, a source of power and peace. But for Alvira, the thought was a cold weight in her stomach. Her bloodline—the royal lineage of the Queen—all but guaranteed she would be chosen. She was a daughter of the throne; the Goddess would not overlook her. But how could she stand before a sacred altar and be bound to a stranger when her heart was already buried in the woods with a werewolf?
"You aren't excited for the festival," a small, knowing voice cut through the chaos.
Alvira blinked, her gaze snapping down to Leo. Her brother wasn't looking at the banners; he was watching her with an intensity that made her skin crawl. He hadn't fully stepped into his power as a Seer, but he had a terrifying habit of seeing right through her ribs to the secrets she kept beneath them.
"Is it because your heart belongs to another?" he asked quietly. He watched a group of girls squeal over a bolt of lace, his expression too mature for his ten-year-old face. "They look for their future. You look like you're mourning your past."
Alvira stumbled over a loose stone, her breath catching. "What makes you think so, little brother?" she managed, her voice tight. "That's a very heavy thought for a morning walk."
Leo merely shrugged, kicking at a stray pebble. "You don't look like them, Alv. You look like someone waiting for an execution, not a wedding."
"Of course I'm excited," she lied, the words tasting like ash. "People just show their joy in different ways. I prefer the quiet kind."
Leo didn't push further, but the silence he left behind felt like a judgment. They continued walking, the festive music of the village square sounding increasingly discordant to her ears.
"Good morning, Alvira."
The voice was like honey poured over glass—sweet, but with a sharp edge that drew blood. Alvira stopped in her tracks. Kate was standing there, radiating a calculated sort of brilliance. Clung tightly to her arm was Mikey, a man whose face had once been the center of Alvira's world.
"Good morning," Alvira forced out, her lips pulling back into a mask of a smile.
The sight of them together was a dull, thrumming ache. Years had passed since Kate—then Alvira's "best friend"—had systematically dismantled Alvira's relationship with Mikey, whispering lies and playing the sympathizer until Mikey had walked away. Finding out they were together only days later had been the first time Alvira realized that monsters didn't just live in the dark woods; some wore friendly faces and shared your secrets.
Kate adjusted her grip on Mikey's arm, pulling him closer in a blatant display of possession. Mikey looked pained, his eyes darting to the cobblestones, his posture stiff with a discomfort he couldn't hide.
"Are you absolutely vibrating with nerves?" Kate asked, her eyes glittering with malice. "The Starweave is so close. Are you ready to finally meet your real soulmate?"
Alvira felt her nails digging into her palms. "I think we are all ready for what the Goddess has in store, Kate."
Kate leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that was loud enough for the passersby to hear. "The last time we really spoke was the night we found out Klara would be the next Queen. Such a tragedy, truly. I really thought the power would stay in your family. I suppose some people are just born to be... unfortunate."
Mikey winced, tugging at Kate's hand. "Kate, come on, we're going to be late," he muttered, his voice thick with embarrassment.
"Anyway, we should totally hang out sometime," Kate called out over her shoulder as she allowed herself to be led away, her laughter trailing behind her like a taunt.
Alvira stood paralyzed in the center of the bustling street. Her fists were clenched so tightly her knuckles were white. The festive banners, the twinkling lights, the promise of the Goddess—it all felt like a cage. She was surrounded by her people, her family, and her history, yet she had never felt more like an outsider. The suspense of her own life was becoming unbearable; between a brother who saw too much and a coven that expected her to be a perfect, chosen bride.
Upon seeing Alvira's change of mood, Leo wrapped his little hands around her "It's okay, you'll always be a queen in my eyes."