The city did not sleep.
Valoria had known sieges, rebellions, and even celestial omens—but never this. Never a night where the moon still shone, yet no longer ruled.
Alisha felt the change everywhere.
As she returned to the palace, the wards no longer pressed against her presence like rigid walls. They breathed. Adjusted. Bent subtly as she passed, not in submission, but recognition. It unsettled her more than resistance ever had.
People felt it too.
Whispers chased her through the corridors.
"She changed the sky.""The moon hesitated.""The heir broke the covenant."
Guards stiffened as she passed, hands tightening on spear shafts. Some bowed deeper than ever before. Others hesitated—just long enough to betray uncertainty.
Rowan met her at the Hall of Convergence, his face pale, eyes bright with a storm of emotion he did not try to hide.
"You realigned the wards," he said quietly. "Not by force."
Alisha nodded. "They listen now."
Rowan exhaled slowly. "That may be the most dangerous thing you've ever said."
Inside the council chamber, chaos reigned.
Nobles argued openly. Scholars shouted over one another. The High Scholar slammed his staff against the marble floor again and again, trying to restore order.
"The celestial hierarchy has been violated!"
"No—restructured!"
"This is heresy!"
The Emperor sat rigid on the throne, hands clasped tightly, eyes fixed on Alisha as she entered.
The room fell silent.
"You acted without consent," he said. "Without council. Without precedent."
"I acted because delay would have torn the city apart," Alisha replied steadily. "You felt the strain. Everyone did."
The High Scholar scoffed. "You presume much for someone who has rewritten laws older than the empire."
Alisha met his gaze. "Those laws were failing."
A ripple of unrest passed through the chamber.
"You've severed our absolute bond to the moon," another councilor accused. "Do you understand what that means?"
"Yes," Alisha said softly. "It means we can no longer pretend balance comes without cost."
The Emperor rose slowly.
"Then hear mine," he said. "From this moment, your authority as Lunar Heir stands… under review."
The words struck harder than any blade.
Caelan took an involuntary step forward. "You can't—"
The Emperor raised a hand. "I must. Not as a father. As a ruler."
Alisha bowed her head once. "Then do what you must."
The council dismissed shortly after, divided and uneasy. As Alisha turned to leave, Rowan caught her arm gently.
"You knew this would happen," he said.
"Yes," she replied. "I just didn't know how quickly."
The Shadow King moved at dawn.
Not with armies.
Not with destruction.
He sent a dream.
Across Valoria—and beyond—sleeping minds stirred. Not everyone. Not even most.
Only those who already doubted.
They dreamed of a moonless sky. Of peace without sacrifice. Of a girl standing between light and shadow, promising freedom from ancient burdens.
When they woke, the dream lingered like a bruise.
And with it—
a question.
Why should one girl decide the fate of the world?
In the lower districts, a minor ward flickered and collapsed—not violently, but quietly. A shadow slipped through, thin and precise, carrying a mark older than language.
Alisha felt it immediately.
She gasped, gripping the stone balustrade outside her chambers as a cold pressure brushed her awareness.
"Rowan," she whispered.
He appeared moments later, already grim. "He's testing you."
"Not the wards," she said. "Me."
Far from Valoria, the Shadow King watched through borrowed eyes, his smile measured.
"Let's see how well you hold," he murmured, "when the world starts choosing sides."
That night, Caelan found Alisha alone in the west tower.
"You didn't tell me you'd lose your standing," he said quietly.
"I didn't lose it," she replied. "I exposed it."
He leaned against the wall, studying her. "People are afraid."
"So am I."
That made him look at her differently.
"For what it's worth," he said after a pause, "I don't think you broke the world."
She smiled faintly. "That doesn't mean I won't."
As if summoned by her words, the Eclipse stirred again—not violently, but insistently.
A warning.
Alisha straightened.
"Something's coming," she said.
Rowan's voice echoed down the corridor. "Not something."
"Someone," Alisha corrected.
Above them, the moon dimmed just enough to be noticed.
And for the first time, the world began to ask—
Who will it follow?