Page 68 of Unravelled
As she passed the line of clerics, Mira caught the slight dip of Cleric Perrin’s head in a gesture of reverent greeting. Behind her, the acolytes mirrored the motion, bowing in practiced unison. Not a word passed between them, but the gesture spoke volumes. Recognition. Respect.
At the dais, the Queen paused. Ren stepped forward, and Mira noted the subtle shift in him. The way he bowed low, every movement precise and reverent. Only the Crowned Betrothed stayed motionless, his eyes vacant, his body unmoving. A figurehead on a throne, alive in flesh, but hollow in soul.
Ren straightened and offered his hand. The Queen took it. Her pale fingers slipped into his without hesitation, and Mira’s chest tightened. A flicker of heat. Irrational. Immediate. A spike of jealousy was so sharp it surprised her. Because of the way Ren’s head bowed slightly when their fingers met, the care in the gesture, the quiet gravity of it. Mira forced her shoulders still, her breath steady. Jealousy bloomed low and mean behind her ribs. as she watched Ren guide the Queen forward into the firelight.
For a heartbeat, her eyes met his, just over the Queen’s shoulder. It hit her like lightning. Sharp and blinding, curling beneath her ribs and stealing the air from her lungs. Her heart stuttered, and in the flickering hush of the firelight, she watched as a smallest smile flashed across his face. Just as quickly, it vanished. He steeled himself, gaze shuttering, expression returning to its practiced calm.
Queen Danlea released him, then stepped into the center alone. Her gaze moved across the crowd, not skimming but seeing. As if every soul stood bare before her. When her eyes swept past Mira, it felt like being seen by something ancient.
“I am rarely among you,” she said, her voice a soft thread woven with stillness. It was not loud. It didn’t need to be. “My place has long been with the seers, with the threads of fate that guide all kingdoms. I have stood apart, offering wisdom when asked, but rarely stepping beyond the borders of Myrdathis. But now, that must change.”
A murmur swept through the room, but it didn’t last long. Her voice carried over it, a winter wind.
“Kharador has tested you. They have cast a shadow upon Bharalyn, upon all the kingdoms.. their ambitions are a threat too great, a slight too large to be ignored.” Her tone deepened. “Myrdathis Seers are visionaries and advisors. Our sight is not only for far-off dreams of men but also for the future of all our kingdoms. We will not stand idle while this darkness spreads. We will lend our wisdom and guidance to Bharalyn.” The words didn’t echo. They settled. Heavy. Permanent.
Ren stepped forward again, his voice cutting through the silence. “Your words are a beacon in the shadows,” he said, his tone rich and steady. “We are grateful for your wisdom and support. Our kingdoms have long stood as allies, but today, you have shown us that our friendship is rooted in more than tradition.” Mira watched him speak, pride blooming quietly in her chest. He turned to the gathered crowd, his voice still strong.
“Her Majesty, Queen Danela will meet with the advisory council to deliberate on our path forward. There is much to consider, and we must ensure every step is measured and true. In one week's time, we will continue with the veiled night celebrations, not as two kingdoms shrouded in darkness, but as allies who embrace the dawn.”
A ripple of anticipation swept through the masses. Murmurs of excitement interwoven with nods of agreement. Though uncertainty lingered at the edges, the promise of celebration and unity cast a warm, undeniable glow over the gathering. And yet, beneath it all, a quiet knot tightened in Mira's chest.
What if it wasn’t enough?
17
The palace halls were still in the hours before dawn. Mira and Nerra moved quietly through the dim corridors, their steps hushed against the stone, softened further by the worn rugs beneath their feet.
The Queen’s private wing loomed ahead, veiled in shadow and stillness. A fresh, crisp coldness filled the air. A cold that woke the skin rather than numbed it,threaded through the hallways. When they opened the chamber door, it did so soundlessly, revealing a room washed in the faintest silver light. Not from the moon. That had long since set. The glow came from candle flames that shimmered without flickering, suspended in tall glass sconces like starlight caught in crystal. Their light wavered softly across the stone walls, creating shifting, dreamlike patterns that didn’t quite stay still.
The Queen stood at the center of the chamber. She was barefoot on the cold floor, her long white hair loose down her back. She wore only a simple robe over her nightdress. Translucent at the edges, trimmed in fine silver thread that caught the strange light and held it. Incense coiled around her, slow and deliberate, the scent of something ancient and herbal, sweet and sharp all at once.
“Come closer, I've been waiting on you both” the Queen said. Her voice was barely more than breath, but it filled the room.
She didn’t look at them directly. Her gaze lingered somewhere else, just beyond them, as though she was watching something they couldn’t see. Mira stepped forward first, Nerra just behind, their movements instinctively careful. No command passed the Queen’s lips, yet silence settled with ease. It wasn’t fear that stilled them, but something subtler. The way the air shifted around her, as if drawn to her presence, like it had in the great hall. In her stillness, the room itself seemed to breathe differently.
She lifted her arms with a slow, fluid grace, her long sleeves falling away like mist as she signaled Mira and Nerra forward. They approached in silence, hands practiced, careful. Mira reached for the silken wrap, the fabric catching the candlelight in soft waves. It was nearly weightless, a gossamer veil threaded with pale silver that shimmered like moonlight on water.
Nerra took the small dish of dried herbs from the table, her grip steady as she passed it to Mira. Mira crushed the leaves between her fingers, releasing their scent, rich, earthy, and faintly floral. She scattered the crumbled pieces onto the veil, Nerra poured the warmed oil letting them settle into the weave of the cloth.
“In Myrdathis,” the Queen said, her voice quiet and steady, “we slumber beneath the sun and rise beneath the moon. The stars chart our course. Night unveils what day would rather hide.” Her words drifted through the room like a lullaby.
Nerra stepped closer, arms outstretched, holding one end of the veil. Mira mirrored her, the wrap suspended between them like the beginning of something sacred. The Queen lowered her head, her long hair spilling forward like strands of silver thread. Together, they raised the cloth, letting the scented fabric pass over her face, covering her eyes. Mira tied it gently at the back of the Queen’s head, careful not to disturb the curtain of hair.
Nerra hesitated, her voice soft but curious. “Does that mean you can never walk in the sun?”
The Queen lifted her head. Her wrap shimmered faintly in the candlelight, silver threads catching every flicker.
“No,” she said, “but it is more difficult for us than most. Light distracts. It scatters what is true. The sun can burn away illusions, but it also blinds. In the shadows, things can be clearer. More honest.” Mira glanced at Nerra, catching the quiet furrow of her brow, the way she absorbed every word.
Mira looked back at the Queen, “Is that what the wrap is for?” she asked quietly. "To make sure you aren't blinded?"
“In part,” the Queen replied, her voice calm but offering no more.
Mira hesitated, sensing the boundary in her tone. She didn’t press further. Some truths, it seemed, weren’t meant to be shared all at once.
“The stars have always spoken to us,” the Queen said. Her head tilted slightly, as though listening to something only she could hear. “Each constellation holds a story. Each shadow, a whisper. We honor them by keeping our eyes open to the night and our hearts attuned to what lies just beyond.”
Mira watched Nerra as she hesitated before asking. Her voice quiet, careful. “Does everyone in Myrdathis see what you do, Your Grace? Are all your people... gifted?”
