Chapter 76 The Shadows and the Truth
Her name began circulating even before I saw her.
It didn't come as a shout. It came as a collective sigh, as poorly disguised hope. The kind of thing that grows when people are afraid and want something simple to believe in.
Selena appeared in the courtyard as if she had been pushed by the crowd—not summoned by it.
She wore light-colored clothes, without symbols of power. Her hair was simply tied back. Her face carried genuine concern… or something very similar to it. When her eyes met mine, for a brief second, I saw calculation. Then, gentleness.
“Please,” she said, raising her hands. “Don’t make this a confrontation.”
The crowd gradually quieted.
“We are all scared.” Her voice was sweet, firm enough to be heard, soft enough to sound reassuring. “The kingdom has changed too quickly. Ancient magics have awakened. People have been hurt.”
She paused. She looked around, not at me.
“I’m not here to accuse anyone.” She continued. “Not even to take any place.”
Some nodded. Others murmured approval.
“I only worry.” Selena placed her hand on her chest. “About our children. About our homes. About what happens when forces we don’t understand decide everyone’s fate.”
My stomach clenched.
She never said my name.
She never needed to.
“Perhaps,” she continued carefully, “the kingdom needs stability now. Something… familiar. Something that doesn’t divide.”
Her eyes finally met mine again. Sad. Compassionate.
“It’s nobody’s fault,” she concluded. “But not every truth needs to be borne by one person.”
The silence that followed was heavy.
Not of revolt.
Of agreement.
And in that instant I understood: Selena wasn’t asking for the crown.
She was offering the people an excuse to reject me without feeling cruel.
The effect was immediate.
There were no shouts, no boos. Just that low, dangerous murmur that arises when people believe they are being reasonable. I saw faces turn to each other, heads nodding slowly, as if they had just heard something too sensible to question.
I remained motionless.
If I opened my mouth at that moment, any word would sound like defense. And defense, I knew, would be read as guilt.
Conrad stepped a step ahead of me.
“Enough.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the courtyard like a blade. “No one here has the right to decide who she is based on what’s comfortable for you.”
Selena turned to him carefully, as if treading on fragile ground.
“I didn’t mean to create division,” she said softly. “I only fear for the kingdom.”
“The kingdom isn’t fragile,” Conrad replied. “It’s just being forced to look at what it has always hidden.”
Some looked away. Others frowned.
I felt the mark on my chest throb, not with pain, but with alertness. The path was watchful. It always was.
I took a step forward, standing beside Conrad.
“I never asked you to trust me,” I said, my voice firm despite my weariness. “I only asked you not to close your eyes.”
A woman in the crowd responded, uncertainly. “But everything changed after you arrived.”
I nodded.
“Yes,” I said. “It changed. Because it was already wrong before.”
Silence spread again. More tense. More divided.
Selena lowered her head, as if respecting that collective pain. But I saw it. I saw the discreet relief on her face. She had planted what needed to be planted.
Solange watched from one of the balconies, too far away to intervene, close enough to gauge each reaction. This wasn't the end. It was a test.
Conrad squeezed my hand.
“They want a queen who won’t confront them,” she murmured.
“And I can’t be that person,” I replied.
In the distance, someone began to chant Selena’s name. Another repeated it. Then another.
It wasn’t a chorus yet.
But it was close to becoming one.
And I knew, with painful clarity, that the next confrontation wouldn’t be with shadows, nor with erasers.
It would be with the idea that peace is worth more than truth.
The chorus was still echoing when I felt the fragment of Moon warm in my hand.
It wasn’t pain. It was a warning.
My first impulse was to close my hand around it, to hide it as I always did. But the fragment didn’t ask permission. It pulsed once—strongly—and the light escaped through my fingers, spreading through the air like silvery mist.
The silence came too quickly.
The light expanded above the crowd, flickering, unsteady, until it began to take shape. They weren't clear images. They were shadows. Human silhouettes, elongated, distorted, as if trapped between existence and disappearance.
Someone gasped. Another took a step back.
The shadows moved slowly, pulled by something invisible. Outstretched arms. Faces without defined features, but full of despair. Children. Women. Ordinary men. People who wore neither crowns nor symbols of power.
Innocent.
The dark mist rose around them, enveloping their bodies, consuming them little by little. Where it touched, the shadows faded—not violently, but with a cruel silence. As if they had never been there.
“Erasers…” someone whispered, their voice broken.
I saw a woman fall to her knees. An alpha brought his hand to his mouth. Fear ran through the square like a low flame.
The images showed no dates. No names. Only repetition. Lives being taken while the world chose not to look.
The fragment vibrated once more, and for an instant I saw something worse: the shadows turned towards the castle. Towards the walls. Towards the people.
Not as a threat.
As a warning.
The light went out as quickly as it had appeared. The fragment cooled, harmless again, resting in my hand as if nothing had happened.
But nothing was the same.
The chorus for Selena didn't return.
In its place, there were murmurs. Confused looks. Fear mixed with doubt.
Some still stared at me with suspicion.
Others… with guilt.
Conrad held my hand tightly. I felt his racing heart, but his body firm beside me.
I said nothing.
I didn't need to.
The seed of doubt had been planted.
And in that instant, everyone understood what was more terrifying than a hybrid queen.
It was the truth that no one could erase anymore.