Page 48 of Unravelled

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?”

The Queen’s lips curved, a soft expression that seemed both warm and far away. “Please,” she said, her voice drifting like smoke. “Call me Danlea. Titles build walls, and I do not need to distance with either of you.”

Mira and Nerra exchanged a glance, both nodding, though the shift unsettled them. There was something intimate about it, something disarming.

Danlea turned back to the veiled candlelight.

“To answer you Nerra, No,” she continued, her tone even and precise.

“The gift of true sight is rare. Some are born with a flicker, a dream, a fleeting echo. Others see nothing at all. But those who are chosen,” her fingers traced a slow arc through the air, “carry the weight of that vision for a lifetime.”

She paused. The silence stretched. Her hands moved gently, sketching shapes as if threading unseen constellations between them.

“In Myrdathis, we do not choose our royalty through lineage or courtly favor. A vision comes. A knowing. It may be a name spoken in sleep, or a face seen through the veil of time. And when the stars demand it, the mantle passes.”

Nerra furrowed her brow, trying to process the meaning.But Mira, watching the way Danlea navigated through silence like it was her native language, she felt something shift.

“You already know who will succeed you,” Mira said softly, almost to herself. Danlea turned slightly away from her.

The candlelight caught the gleam in her strange, opalescent eyes. “The stars have shown me many things, Mira,” she said. “But the future is not a single road. It bends, it branches. To see is not to know with certainty but to hold a candle to the mist.”

Her words hung in the air, weighty and delicate.

Mira felt a chill slide down her spine, as if something ancient had reached out to brush against her skin.

The candle flames shivered, their light dancing on the walls, and for a heartbeat, it seemed as if the entire room breathed with them.

Nerra’s eyes flicked to the shifting shapes, her confusion deepening, but Mira remained still.

“Are you... uncertain of the vision?” Nerra asked hesitantly. Danlea’s smile softened, a trace of sorrow pulling at the corners of her mouth.

“Uncertainty is part of truths very nature,” she said.

“Even the brightest star is veiled by clouds from time to time.

" The Queen’s head tilted slightly, the curve of her neck graceful and exposed.

"I know the staging of what is to come, but the pieces shift, just as shadows do.

Like standing in a doorway with one foot in each room, never fully in one or the other.

" Danlea looked at Nerra. "You would understand that, being raised at the border. "

Nerra’s hands stilled, the scent of crushed herbs still clung to her fingers. “Yes,” she whispered. “Where Bharalyn, Kharador, and Lyren meet. My family traded between the lands.”

A soft hum rose from Danlea, deep and knowing.

“You are a child of three. Each one in your bones, each one whispering something different.” The Queen tilted her head slightly, the silver threads of her wrap catching the flickering light.

“It is a good thing. They will help you know where to stand in the days coming.” The Queen sighed, a breath that seemed to carry the weight of dreams. Nerra’s brow furrowed, but she said nothing.

Mira’s hands fell to her sides, the ritual complete, yet something in her chest whispered they had only just brushed the edge of understanding. And they had only glimpsed what lay beneath.

“Thank you,” Danlea whispered. Whether it was meant for them or for the silent forces that filled the chamber, Mira could not tell. “You may go now. I need a few moment of sleep to adjust to walking in the light”

They withdrew in silence, the door clicking shut behind them with a sound that felt more like a seal than a dismissal.

The cool air of the corridor met them like a breath of reality.

Mira felt the stone beneath her shoes. It was too solid, too cold.

The palace was too bright, even cloaked in the early shadows of dawn.

The corridor had warmed slightly with the stirring breath of morning. Lanterns guttered low on their hooks as the palace slowly came to life around them, the hush of candlelight giving way to the distant clatter of kitchens and the rustle of attendants beginning their rounds.

Mira and Nerra retraced their steps through the winding hall that led to the altar chamber. The stone beneath their feet felt less cold now, the path familiar, though the memory of Danlea’s strange, starlit presence still clung to their skin like smoke.

“What is she?” Nerra asked. Her voice carried not just curiosity, but awe and fear. Mira reached out, brushing her fingertips against the smooth wall beside them.

“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “She’s a queen, but something in her feels older than that. Something Ancient”

Nerra turned slightly, her expression unreadable, the flickering torchlight catching in her eyes. “ But how does someone come to be like that? To know so much without being told?”