The feast finally ended near midnight.
Nobles were drunk. The celebration winding down. And tradition demanded the King and Queen retire to their chambers to consummate the marriage.
Servants led Selene to the Queen's chambers. Not Damian's rooms where she'd been serving. But the Queen's suite. Elaborate. Decorated. Connected to the King's chambers by an internal door.
They dressed her in a nightgown. White silk. Traditional for a wedding night. Brushed her hair until it shone. Removed the cosmetics hiding her mark.
For the first time in months, the crimson crescent was visible on her forehead. The mark of prophecy. The sign that she was different. Special. Dangerous.
The servants bowed and left. Giving the new Queen privacy. Leaving her alone to wait for her husband.
Selene stared at herself in the mirror. At the mark. At the nightgown. At the Queen staring back at her.
