SILVERBLOOD

PART I — DISCOVERY

The moment I was born with silver hair, I stopped belonging.

Not in the way stories make it sound poetic.

In the way silence falls when people decide you are a mistake they can see.

I became an outcast. A royal they didn’t want to name too loudly. A curse they smiled around. A problem wrapped in silk.

From my seat at the edge of the grand hall, I watched my family perform perfection.

King Aldren stood at the center, radiant beneath the chandeliers, lifting his ceremonial sword high.

“For Aeralune!”

The crowd answered like they had practiced their devotion.

“For Aeralune!”

Queen Isolde drifted beside him, her presence sharp even in elegance. She leaned toward her guard, whispering something I wasn’t meant to hear.

Then Cassian. The crowned prince.

Then Elowen. The perfect princess.

They stood like they belonged to the light itself.

Shoulders straight. Smiles were precise. Every movement rehearsed into admiration.

And me? I stayed seated.

Unwanted. Uninvited. Unseen.

Again.

Queen Isolde had made it clear long before tonight that I was better suited elsewhere—far north, far away, somewhere I wouldn’t stain the royal image. But my father… My father insisted I attend the Moon Year Ball.

“At least this once,” he had said.

Cassian’s voice pulled me back.

“Mother, they’re wandering off.”

Elowen sighed dramatically. “There are too many old guests. It’s suffocating.”

Queen Isolde clicked her tongue. “Enough. Come here. You are meant to be seen.”

Then her gaze shifted and landed on me when I rose to leave.

The air changed. “Where do you think you’re going?” she asked.

I blinked, caught mid-rise from the table.

“I was… assembling,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “The artist—he’s here, isn’t he? I wanted to—”

“The artist is here for the court,” she interrupted calmly. “Not you.”

Silence snapped shut around me.

Cassian laughed under his breath then Elowen followed.

I swallowed the sting, nodding like it didn’t matter.

“Of course,” I said softly. “I understand.”

But I didn’t sit back down, I turned instead  and left.

***

The marble corridor stretched endlessly ahead, polished enough to reflect everything I refused to feel.

Light from stained-glass windows spilled across the floor in fractured colors. The shadow of Dragon Artemis stretched beneath my feet—watching, silent, eternal.

Bravery. Strength. Honor.

Things I was not allowed to claim.

My steps stayed steady.

Not fast enough to seem weak. Not slow enough to break.

Behind me, I felt the weight of their eyes. Courtiers shifted aside as I passed.

Not respect. Just complete voidance.

Like I was something unlucky enough to bruise just by being seen.

Whispers followed anyway.

“Moonmarked…”

“So it’s true…”

“Even her own mother hates her—”

I tightened my grip on my journal.

The leather pressed into my palm like an anchor.

Let them talk, I told myself.

I turned the corner and slipped through a narrow servant door hidden in the wall.

Familiar. Safe.

My only escape.

***

The Moon Market greeted me like a different world entirely.

The noise. Color. Life.

No bows or royal cloaks. No titles. No careful silence pretending to be respectful.

Just people existing.

Kael spotted me first. His grin appeared before I even reached them.

“Well look at this,” he called. “The cursed princess survived another royal execution.”

I rolled my eyes immediately. “Used to it.”

Lyra stood as I approached, warmth in her smile as she pulled me into a hug.

“You’re late,” she said softly.

“The ball dragged on,” I replied.

Kael leaned in, chewing an apple loudly. “A ball. Imagine that. Must be nice, being important enough to be ignored in expensive rooms.”

I nudged him lightly. “Try not to sound jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” he said. “I’m impressed at how boring it sounds.”

Lyra sighed. “Ignore him.”

“I never do,” I muttered. Then I looked around. “Where’s Ashburn?”

Kael jerked his head toward the stalls. “Behind there. Something about maps again.”

Of course.

Before I could respond, Lyra pulled out a folded piece of parchment.

“You should see this,” she said.

I frowned. “What is it?”

“A royal notice,” she replied. “Your brother is hosting a masked ball. Something about Dragon Artemis.”

My chest tightened slightly.

Cassian.

Always something theatrical.

Kael snatched the paper. “Free food and rich people distractions? I’m in.”

“That’s stealing,” I said immediately.

He shrugged. “It’s redistribution.”

“It’s jail,” Lyra corrected.

“It’s survival,” he said back.

I sighed, rubbing my temple. Ashburn appeared before I could continue the argument.

Tall. Quiet. Familiar.

Brown coat slightly worn. Black mullet curls falling into his eyes. A stack of papyri in his hands.

And that same calm look that always unsettled me in the gentlest way.

“Took you long enough,” he said softly.

I rolled my eyes, though my voice dropped. “Don’t start.”

He stepped closer. “Selene,” he said.

Just that.

And somehow it felt like everything else went quieter.

I sat back down beside them, letting the noise of the market wrap around us again.

For a while, I wasn’t a princess.

I wasn’t a curse.

I wasn’t anything at all.

Just Selene.

***

Night fell slowly.

And with it, the world changed again.

The castle swallowed me back into its silence.

The dining hall waited—a long table, perfect food, perfect tension.

King Aldren looked up first.

His warm gaze all too familiar. The only one who looked at me like I wasn’t a mistake.

“Out again?” he asked gently.

“Just air,” I said.

Queen Isolde’s gaze sharpened instantly.

“The streets are not for royalty.”

“Neither is this table,” I replied before I could stop myself.

Silence dropped.

Cassian’s voice cut through it.

“One more word, Selene.”

Elowen tilted her head. “Mother, she’s becoming unbearable.”

Queen Isolde didn’t even look surprised.

“Your tongue grows bolder each day,” she said quietly.

Then the King spoke with finalty. “Enough.”

All eyes shifted to him.

He exhaled slowly.

“Tomorrow,” he said, “suitors will arrive.”

My heart paused.

“For you.”

I blinked.

Not because I didn’t hear him.

But because for a moment, I didn’t understand why it felt like a sentence instead of an announcement.

“…suitors?” I repeated.