Selene frowned in thought. Those words were familiar. She’d read them a while ago from a small book Cohen had let her borrow from the abbey. But before she could ask more questions, a bell rang as the monks reached the gates that led into Northwind Castle. Within seconds, lights filled the castle, and the monks changed their chant to a song as they entered the courtyard. Across the castle and city, others joined the song, until the chorus of thousands of voices rang out across the night.

Damien began to sing beside her, his tenor voice blending in with the others. Once again, a familiar lump filled her throat as she listened to her husband sing with his people. Deep down she wished she could be a part of this, but she still felt like a stranger, a foreigner from a very different world. Welcome, but still separate.

It was not because of Damien or the people of the Northern Shores, but because of her. Every night reminded her of this as she walked the dreamscape, searching. Always searching. She was Lady Selene Ravenwood, heir to the House of Dreamers, and she always would be.

The last note faded into the night, then the city broke out in shouts, laughter, and excitement. Damien squeezed her hand again before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Now it’s time to celebrate the Festival of Light. Follow me.”

Selene nodded and let him guide her back into Northwind Castle, her mind and body a storm of emotions.

She removed the hood of her gown once they were inside the throne room, freeing her long black hair to fall across her shoulders and down her back. She caught Damien watching her from the corner of his eye, and it made her grow warm all over.

“I don’t think I told you how stunning you look this evening,” he said as he pulled her closer to his side.

“Thank you.”

“And I’m glad you left your hair down. I like it that way.”

Selene brushed the side of her face with her hand, the warmth spreading again.

At the bottom of the stairs, they followed the stone path that led between the pillars and streams of water to the audience hall.

Taegis greeted them in the corridor. “My lord. My lady.” He dipped his head in their direction. His hair hung along his shoulders instead of gathered at the nape of his neck like usual. And in place of his simple tunic and leather jerkin he wore a strikingly embroidered surcoat in the colors of House Maris.

“Join us, Taegis. We were just heading to the dining hall for the feast.”

His head came up. “Thank you.” Taegis walked on the other side of Selene as the three of them headed toward the other side of the castle. “What do you think of the Festival of Light so far, Lady Selene?”

She smiled back. “I’ve never experienced anything so wonderful before. The way the city looked and the chant from the monks was mesmerizing. I had no idea winter could hold such a celebration. We observe the spring Festival of Flowers, but it’s nothing like this.” She wasn’t about to mention the new moon worship. She didn’t want shadows of the Dark Lady haunting her thoughts this evening.