You felt my joy across galaxies. You felt my ache.
Even when I ran—because I was scared, because I was hurt—you never stopped calling me home.
So today, in front of two worlds, I make these promises:
I vow to never shrink myself again.
I vow to stand beside you.
I vow to fight for this love the way I fought to believe I deserved it.
I vow to paint every dawn we wake up to with color, with laughter, with the same honesty we gave each other in every ink-stained page.
I vow to be your queen, your partner, your loudest cheerleader, and your softest place to land.
I may not have glowing flowers where I come from, but I do have this heart—and it will open for you, always.
I choose you, Orion.
Not because the stars told me to.
Because I looked across galaxies and saw the only person who’s ever made me feel infinite.
TEA SPILLED IN HONOR FALLS
with Missy Tealeaf
“The Wedding Was a Fraud—And So Was the Groom!”
Well, well, well… the society wedding of the year has officially turned into the scandal of the season.
After months of pre-wedding hype and one extremely awkward ceremony, Bethani Lancaster (yes, that Lancaster) has filed for and been granted an annulment from her very short-lived husband, Matthew Riorson—or should we say Matthias Reyes… or Mathieu Rigal… or whoever he decided to be that day.
Turns out Mr. Rior-so-not-his-real-name was still married (to an entirely different woman, no less!) and never used his legal identity when signing his vows to Ms. Lancaster. That’s not just shady, darling—it’s illegal.
If that wasn’t enough to pop the champagne of schadenfreude, Dr. Barbara Lancaster—mother of the not-so-blushing bride and cardiac cutter extraordinaire—is now suing the pants off Mr. Alias for the entire cost of the million-dollar wedding and for the “emotional damage to her daughter.” Sources say Dr. Lancaster is including the cost of the flying doves, the imported orchids, and the custom cocktail bar that spelled out “Forever Begins Today.”
Guess forever was about... ninety-six hours?
Eyewitnesses at the reception report lipstick stains, mystery women, and a bridesmaid or two sneaking out with the groomsmen—though in hindsight, maybe they were the lucky ones.
And where is Bamboozled Bebe now? Sources say she’s holed up in her mother’s guesthouse with a bottomless bottle of prosecco and a Netflix queue of betrayal documentaries. We wish her well, and we really hope someone’s changed the locks.
As for the elusive Mr. Riorson-Reyes-Rigal—his whereabouts remain unknown. One thing’s for sure: If you see a man with too many names and a fondness for monogrammed cufflinks… run.
Stay tuned. You know Missy always gets the tea.
Stardust,
It’s quiet for once in the palace. The council chambers are empty, the court is at rest, and I find myself aching for you in the stillness. I should be reviewing trade agreements or issuing decrees, but all I can think about is the way you looked this morning—barefoot in the east wing, hair a tumble of sunlit threads, sated from my mouth exploring every inch of you. But I found that just as arousing as watching you speaking wisdom to a room of advisors who never expected to be captivated by an Earthling, let alone changed by one.
What you said about the Frosthaven land dispute—it shifted the entire conversation. You brought clarity and compassion, and our people listened. They heard you. They’re still talking about it now. “Queen Danika sees what we do not,” one of them said. I beamed with pride and maybe a little bit of smugness.
She’s mine, I wanted to shout. Not that there is a single soul in this realm who isn’t aware of that fact.
I see you everywhere. Your artwork has transformed the halls of the castle. The installations you’ve placed throughout the city have people wandering corners they once ignored, pausing in places that used to be gray and lifeless. Even the children mimic your murals in the dust with their fingers, calling themselves “artists of the queen.”
You, my love, are the soul of this place.