The girl gazed at the crown, her gray eyes solemn. The crown was wrought of starfire—meteorite—and sparkled in the dim light of the throne room. “I’m glad,” the girl said emphatically. It seemed impossible that this heavy thing would one day fit her brother’s head. His baby skull still felt squishy in parts. She felt bad for him. After all, how could one ride a unicorn and melt into the morning with something as heavy as the crown weighing one down? As princess and not the heir, she had to wear only a thin circlet of silver while riding about with Papa.

The woman laughed, the smile lines around her eyes crinkling. “Is someone thinking about a unicorn ride?”

The girl dipped her head shyly, embarrassed but also happy that her mother understood. Queen Elaina always did—that’s why much of the kingdom knew her as Elaina the Compassionate.

“Come, Estelle,” her mother said, holding out her hand. “Let us check on the garden pond! Shall we see if the swans aren’t bullying the poor goslings?”

Princess Estelle slipped her hand into her pocket to pull out the bit of cranberry scone she’d saved from breakfast. Even though it was her favorite pastry, she was worried about the nest of baby geese that had hatched a little too late in the summer.

“Great minds think alike,” Queen Elaina said as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a matching scone. Estelle grinned up at her mother just as a horn sounded from the ramparts. How strange. Usually the horn trilled only when her father was spotted on the road, returning to the castle. But Estelle had seen her father just that morning, head bent over the many papers in his study. Which meant that the horn wasn’t calling out a welcome; it was warning them of—

“An attack,” her mother breathed out. Footsteps sounded down the corridor as her mother grabbed her hand, knocking the scone to the floor. “We must move fast,” her mother said as she pulled her to the door. “The Forgers are here.”

“My scone!” Estelle protested.

“We won’t be visiting the goslings today after all, I’m afraid,” her mother said. “You must be brave, my gem.” Estelle felt tears prick her eyes, but she stayed silent. Just as they exited the throne room, she ducked her head under her arm. The crown winked at her in the torchlight, the moontears inlaid into each of its four points glimmering like stars set in a dark, black night.

Something bright was shining in Claire’s eyes. “Elaina, wake up!”