Chapter 3 – Whispers of Fate
The priest's presence lingered in the air long after he left the room.
Lucien.
Even his name felt heavy — like an echo from another life.
In her past, that man had been the one who held the sacred blade to her throat during her execution. Yet, now… he had looked at her with something almost like recognition.
"The Moon never chooses twice," he had said.
Those words replayed in her mind, looping endlessly as she stood by the window. The sunlight was warm, but she felt cold. The crescent mark on her chest pulsed faintly, glowing under her gown like a heartbeat that wasn't hers.
Later that evening, Selene slipped quietly through the manor's garden. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of lilies. This had once been her favorite place — before it became the site of her father's arrest.
She knelt beside the old marble fountain, trailing her fingers through the water. The reflection that stared back wasn't just hers anymore.
Silver eyes. Pale light.
The faint shimmer of the Goddess's power.
"Show me," she whispered. "Show me what's hidden."
The water rippled.
A vision flickered — brief, fractured, like shards of glass:
Eira, her half-sister, handed a sealed letter to a man in a cloak.
A royal insignia — the Draven crest.
Her father's name is written in red ink.
Then — darkness.
Selene gasped, jerking her hand back. The mark on her chest burned. Her heart pounded as her memories flickered — one vanishing completely. A small detail of her childhood, gone.
"So that's the cost," she murmured bitterly. "A memory for a truth."
But the vision was clear enough. Eira had betrayed their house to the empire years before the wedding. She had planted the seed of treason that destroyed them all.
Selene's lips curved into a cold, trembling smile.
"Then this time, sister… I'll be the one to watch you fall."
A soft voice interrupted her thoughts.
"You shouldn't play with fate, my lady."
Selene turned sharply.
Lucien stood by the hedge, his white robes glowing faintly under the moonlight. His expression was calm, but his eyes were unreadable.
"How long have you been there?" she demanded.
"Long enough." He stepped closer, his tone almost gentle. "The Moon's Mark is not a gift meant to be used lightly. Every glimpse you take of the future unravels a thread of who you are. Lose enough… and there will be nothing left of Selene Viora."
Selene crossed her arms. "Then perhaps that's a fair trade. The old Selene was weak. She deserved to die."
Lucien's gaze softened, but his voice grew quieter. "The Goddess doesn't give second chances without reason. She's watching, even now."
"Then tell her to keep watching," Selene snapped. "Because this time, I'll use her power to destroy everyone who destroyed me."
A faint smile ghosted across his lips — not mocking, but mournful. "I wonder," he murmured, "if you'll still say that when you learn who truly ordered your death."
Her heart skipped. "What do you mean?"
Lucien didn't answer. Instead, he raised his hand and pressed two fingers lightly against her forehead.
For a moment, the garden vanished — replaced by a vision of silver fire and black wings. She saw Kael, the Crown Prince, standing before a dark mirror… his reflection whispering something she couldn't hear.
Then it was gone.
Lucien stepped back. "You seek truth, Selene. But truth, once seen, cannot be undone. Remember that."
Before she could respond, he was already walking away, his robes fluttering like pale mist in the moonlight.
Selene stood alone, the night pressing in around her. The mark on her chest flared once more, as if echoing his warning.
"Who truly ordered my death…" she repeated softly.
The stars above shimmered faintly, forming a crescent pattern — the same one that had appeared the night she died.
Selene's eyes hardened.
If fate was whispering, she was ready to answer.
"Then let the Goddess watch," she vowed.
"Because I will rewrite everything."