"The moon is exceptionally beautiful in Moonhaven," Princess Celestite said quietly, her eyes fixed on the silver-lit sky.
"It indeed is," Portia replied with a smile, following her gaze.
After a moment, the princess asked, her voice softer than before, "Crown Princess, is it true that silver roses no longer exist?"
Portia was surprised not by the question itself, but by the rare vulnerability in the princess's eyes.
"You know my race, don't you? I am a witch," Celestite said, turning to face her.
Portia nodded slowly. Everyone knew that the Kingdom of Versailles was ruled by witches, though they rarely referred to themselves that way. They called themselves half-divine—descendants of the last son of the Sun Priestess. But the blood of witches still ran through them, whether they accepted it or not.
