The days that followed passed in a blur.

The palace was alive with preparation for the ceremony—maids rushing through corridors with trays of flowers, decorators hanging silk banners bearing the royal insignia, and the scent of fresh roses filling the air.

Freya watched it all from a distance. Everything felt muted, like she was watching someone else’s life unfold. The laughter, the celebration, the music—it all belonged to a world that no longer felt like hers.

When the full moon ...