Mary Ann’s POV
The first Mooncrest wagons arrived three days before the Unity Festival.
I heard them before I saw them.
The courtyard filled with the rumble of wooden wheels, the snorting of horses and the excited voices of servants announcing the delegation’s arrival. I abandoned the seating chart on my desk and hurried toward the entrance before I could remind myself that a Luna was supposed to move with dignity.
The moment I stepped outside, homesickness struck me so sharply that I had to stop.
Mooncrest’s silver-and-blue banners fluttered above the wagons. Familiar guards dismounted near the gate, followed by farmers, cooks, musicians and council representatives I had known for most of my life.
For the first time since my wedding, home had come to me.
“Luna Mary Ann!”
Farmer El
