Maravelle took a slow sip of her wine, her tone calm but strange. "You think this is about love, Selene? About jealousy?" She let out a soft, humorless laugh. "You have no idea what's at stake."
Selene stopped at the door and turned to her. "You're not yourself, my Queen. You are not making any sense."
Maravelle's hand froze midair. "Myself?" she said with a smirk. "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I've outgrown the self you knew."
The goblet trembled slightly in her hand then shattered. Wine spilled down her fingers, but she didn't flinch. She turned away, staring out the window toward the palace courtyard where the preparations for the mating ceremony was ongoing.
"Do you see them, Selene?" Maravelle murmured. "All those fools cheering for a union that should never exist. He was never meant to have her. That girl carries danger in her blood — and Thornak will bring ruin upon himself by binding to her."
