Once Upon Another Lifetime

Chapter 01

i.

Selene dreamt of her mother. She was holding Selene, protecting her, and they swayed together to a faint lullaby. Safe and happy and together.

Then there came a voice out of the darkness, and the feeling of warmth broke in two.

I would be a better queen than your mother. I would be a better queen than you.

She was snatched from the safety of her mother's arms. The person who held her now was a stranger. The hands that gripped Selene were as cold and menacing as the voice they belonged to.

I could drop you over this balcony. You couldn't do a thing about it.

She was held into empty air - held over a sickening drop -

A small gasp, and the dream fled into the night, like poisoned air sucked through vents. Selene opened her eyes and found herself staring into darkness. The luxurious chamber she shared with her mother was faintly lit by the holographic fireplace. It was a comforting sight: nightmares were afraid of light, after all. The child relaxed and went back to sleep.

ii.

Someone's warm hand caressed her face. Selene blinked sleepily as she focused on the beautiful, familiar face of her mother.

"Good morning, little Luna," Channary whispered.

Selene smiled faintly. "'Morning."

Channary patted Selene's cheek and bounced off the bed."Time to get up now. Don't want to miss your first day of lessons, do you?"

Selene dragged the heels of her hands across her eyes, yawning, as her mother whirled across the room to her closet. Weren't her lessons supposed to begin tomorrow?

Humming came from inside the closet as her mother rummaged around, probably looking for Selene's day-wear. Selene pushed the hair out of her eyes, scowling when her fingers caught in a knot of tangles, and hopped down from the four-poster bed. She kicked away the blankets that had tumbled down with her and hurried to her mother's mirror.

Nope. She still looked the same as yesterday. Was she really going to grow up as beautiful as her mother, like Sir Ardlon said? Because she didn't look any different than she remembered looking six months ago.

"Ah-hah!"

Selene turned to see her mother emerging from the closet, flourishing a little yellow dress. It was perfectly sized for a six-year-old girl. Channary laid it out on the bed, smoothing the buttercup folds of fabric. "Isn't it pretty? I had Namidia make it yesterday."

Selene reluctantly walked away from the mirror and peered at the dress. She never liked to look at Namidia, her mother's seamstress, because she didn't have any feet. The dresses she made were beautiful, though. "Thanks."

"I thought you should have something nice for your first day. This is silk; feel it. Isn't it soft?"

Selene ran a hand along the fabric, muttering assent, as Channary walked back into the closet and came out with one of her own dresses. It was tall and lush, a shade of grayish bronze, with a pattern of raised criss-cross ridges. Selene silently promised herself that she, too, would wear dresses like that when she was as grown up as her mother.

Channary disappeared behind a screen. "I'll be just a moment."

Selene shrugged off her nightgown and pulled on the yellow dress. She supposed it was pretty, and at least it was comfortable (the last one had been impossible to sit in). The sleeves were roomy and bell-shaped, like the coats of the people that followed Aunt Levana around sometimes.