Some people inherited wealth.
Some inherited family trauma.
Lyra, unfortunately, kept inheriting ancient thrones.
This felt deeply unfair.
Standing beneath the broken towers of the Hollow Crown, with a dead queen who refused to stay dead and an entire kingdom of murder statues judging her life choices, she was handling it with admirable dignity.
Mostly by looking like she wanted to stab Destiny.
Reasonable.
Very reasonable.
Aarav approved.
Kaiden, standing behind everyone like emotional support lightning, whispered—
"I think we should simply ban thrones."
Cassian nodded.
"Legally."
Riyan added—
"Spiritually."
Mira Valen looked at all of them like someone questioning her standards for asking for help.
Healthy.
Expected.
She turned toward Crownspire.
The broken palace towered above them, split in half by a wound old enough to become architecture.
Silver-black lightning moved inside the cracks like something trapped and impatient.
Her voice lost its sarcasm.
Which was concerning.
"The First Moon Throne lies beneath the palace."
Silence.
Bad silence.
The expensive kind.
Lyra folded her arms.
"And my bloodline forgot it because…"
Mira gave her a look.
"The same reason all royal families forget inconvenient truths."
A pause.
"Cowardice with better clothing."
Excellent answer.
Immediate respect.
Kaiden whispered—
"I love her."
Lyra ignored him professionally.
Mira continued.
"The Bloodmoon line was never meant to rule only a kingdom."
Her silver eyes sharpened.
"It was created to guard the Moon Throne."
Aarav sighed.
"Guard. Not rule."
Mira nodded.
"Exactly."
He looked toward the heavens.
"Why is every bloodline secretly unpaid security?"
Because history hated everyone equally.
They entered Crownspire at sunset.
Which Mira claimed was "less offensively cursed".
No one trusted that sentence.
The palace interior looked like memory after betrayal.
Grand halls split open.
Crystal chandeliers are hanging broken like frozen executions.
Portraits of kings scratched beyond recognition.
Moonlight entering through shattered ceilings and illuminating dust that felt older than prayer.
At the centre of the ruined throne room stood a staircase descending into darkness.
No guards.
No traps.
Which was worse.
Because places like this relied on emotional damage for security.
Mira stopped there.
"I go no further."
Aarav raised an eyebrow.
"Comforting."
She crossed her arms.
"The last time I went below, I died."
A pause.
"I'm trying not to repeat hobbies."
Fair.
Deeply fair.
Lyra looked at the staircase.
Something in her expression changed.
Recognition.
Not memory.
Inheritance.
The old kind.
The dangerous kind.
She whispered—
"It's calling."
No one liked that.
Kaiden especially.
"I strongly object to any sentence beginning with 'it's calling.'"
Reasonable.
Entirely reasonable.
Aarav stepped beside Lyra.
"You don't go alone."
She looked at him.
And there it was again—
That quiet understanding is stronger than speeches.
"I know."
Good.
Because if destiny wanted drama, it could wait in line.
The descent felt wrong.
The deeper they walked, the quieter the world became.
No wind.
No footsteps.
Even Kaiden eventually stopped talking.
That was how everyone knew things were terrible.
Ancient silver runes covered the walls.
Not warnings.
Records.
Names.
Thousands of them.
Queens.
Guardians.
Women of the Bloodmoon line who had descended these stairs and never truly returned.
Cassian ran his hand across one of the names.
"This is not a tomb."
Mira's voice echoed from above, distant now.
"No."
A pause.
"It's a confession."
That was worse.
Much worse.
At the bottom—
They found the throne.
Of course they did.
Because destiny had one favourite hobby and no creativity.
The First Moon Throne stood inside a circular chamber carved from white stone that seemed to glow with its own quiet sorrow.
Beautiful.
Ancient.
Wrong.
It was made of silver crystal and black moonlight, impossible and elegant and far too alive for furniture.
Above it hung a shattered moon—
an actual moon.
Broken into floating fragments, suspended in silence.
Kaiden stared upward.
"…I'm tired."
Understandable.
Very understandable.
Lyra stepped forward.
The throne responded.
Moonlight flooded the chamber.
The broken moon above trembled.
And from the shadows behind the throne—
Someone appeared.
A woman.
Tall.
Dressed in old royal armour made of moon-silver and grief.
Her crown was cracked.
Her face was calm.
Her eyes—
Lyra's eyes.
Only older.
Sadder.
Ancient.
The room froze.
Even Aarav felt it.
Not power.
Blood.
Recognition.
The woman looked at Lyra like history seeing itself.
Then she spoke.
"My daughter finally returns."
Silence.
Absolute.
Kaiden whispered—
"Nope."
Correct.
Perfectly correct.
Lyra did not move.
Her voice came sharp.
"I'm going to need significant clarification."
Reasonable.
Extremely reasonable.
The woman smiled faintly.
"I am Queen Selene Ardyn."
A pause.
"The first ruler of Bloodmoon."
Another pause.
"The one your world buried so it could survive."
Aarav rubbed his forehead.
Of course.
Ancient founder queen.
Emotionally complicated.
Why would anything be simple?
Cassian whispered—
"That name should not exist."
Selene nodded.
"Yes."
"History killed me very efficiently."
Professional respect.
Honestly deserved.
Lyra stepped closer.
"No."
Her voice hardened.
"My ancestor was erased. Not imprisoned."
Selene looked at the Moon Throne.
"Both."
A pause.
"I chose this throne to stop a war between heavens."
Her fingers touched the silver crystal.
"And in return, it chose me forever."
There it was.
Again.
Thrones.
Always asking for eternity in exchange for temporary peace.
Aarav was starting a support group.
Required.
Urgently.
Selene's eyes returned to Lyra.
"The Bloodmoon line was created from my prison."
"The royal bloodline exists because no one else could carry the Moon Throne without becoming its slave."
Silence.
Heavy.
Because suddenly Lyra's inheritance was not royalty.
It was containment.
Another beautiful prison disguised as legacy.
She stood very still.
Dangerously still.
Then asked—
"And now?"
Selene answered honestly.
"The throne is waking."
"The seal is failing."
A pause.
"It wants its queen back."
Kaiden immediately raised a hand.
"Respectfully, no."
Universal agreement.
Beautiful.
Lyra looked at the throne.
Then at the woman wearing her face in old grief.
"What happens if I refuse?"
Selene's answer came softly.
"The moon breaks."
Silence.
Again.
Always again.
Because destiny did not believe in moderation.
If she accepted—
another prison.
If she refused—
a celestial disaster.
Excellent options.
Very balanced.
Aarav stepped forward.
"No."
Everyone looked at him.
Good.
He was used to being professionally difficult.
He faced the First Moon Throne.
"I'm starting to notice a pattern."
A pause.
"Ancient systems keep demanding one person sacrifice themselves so everyone else can feel morally efficient."
The throne did not appreciate criticism.
Good.
Let it learn.
Aarav lifted the Endblade slightly.
"We broke one throne already."
Silver-crimson eyes sharpened.
"We can break another."
The chamber shook.
The broken moon above cracked wider.
Selene's expression changed.
Not fear.
Hope.
Small.
Terrifying.
Because hope in ancient people usually meant violence soon.
She looked at Aarav.
Then Lyra.
And for the first time—
The first queen smiled.
Real.
Fragile.
Dangerous.
"Good."
There it was again.
That cursed word.
She stepped back toward the throne.
"Then let us see…"
Moonlight swallowed the chamber.
Her voice echoed like prophecy.
"…if you can teach the moon how to let go."
And beneath Crownspire—
The second impossible war began.