Azlynn’s P.O.V.

The days passed like petals in the wind, fast, delicate and tinted with gold. I stood in the center of my chamber, surrounded by the rolls of silk, trays of glimmering jewelry, and the faint scent of lilies from the royal greenhouse.

Every corner of the room buzzed with purpose: seamstresses darting around with pins in their mouths, guards pacing just outside the doors, and maids laying out the ceremonial sashes embroidered with ancient symbols of the north kingdom.

I hadn’t expected the crowning ceremony to be so soon. But somehow between Lady Sabrina’s relentless efficiency and Xavion’s quiet insistence that I was ready, the auspicious day had...