In the kingdom of Elaris, the moon did not simply shine — it chose.
Every hundred years, on the night of the Silver Eclipse, the Moon Crown bloomed from the ancient Thorn Tree in the palace courtyard. Whoever the crown wrapped itself around would become Queen.
Not by blood. Not by power.
But by worth.
Princess Seraphine had never expected the crown to choose her.
She was the quiet one. The overlooked daughter. The girl who preferred books and midnight gardens over court dances and jeweled gowns. While her elder sister dazzled nobles with beauty and charm, Seraphine listened to the wind whisper secrets through the rose hedges.
And the wind had been restless lately.
And the wind had been restless lately.
On the night of the eclipse, the kingdom gathered beneath a silver sky. Nobles held their breath as the Thorn Tree trembled, its black branches glowing faintly. A crown of woven silver thorns bloomed slowly, petals of moonlight unfolding.
It floated.
Past the proud. Past the powerful. Past the certain.
And then it stopped before Seraphine.
The thorns did not pierce her. They softened — transforming into white roses as they settled upon her head.
Gasps filled the courtyard.
The Moon had chosen the quiet girl.
But the crown carried more than authority — it carried a warning.
As Seraphine's fingers brushed the roses, a vision flooded her mind: shadows creeping over Elaris, rivers turning to glass, and a figure cloaked in smoke standing at the edge of the kingdom's borders.
A forgotten magic was waking.
And so the young queen did something no ruler before her had done.
She apologized.
She knelt before the Thorn Tree, pressing her crowned head to its roots, promising protection instead of control.
The thorns blossomed across the kingdom. Rivers flowed again. Shadows softened into twilight. The balance was restored.
From that day on, Queen Seraphine was known not as the fiercest queen…
But as the Wisest.
Because sometimes, the strongest crown is theone that blooms from quiet courage.