The next morning, the pack called me by the wrong name.It happened in the eastern corridor, where the windows looked out over the training fields. A young guard bowed as I passed.“Luna Lyra,” he said, respectful and certain.I stopped.He looked up, confused by my silence. His eyes flicked to my face, then widened. “My Queen—Raya. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I—”“It’s fine,” I said, though my chest had tightened.He moved on quickly, embarrassed. I stood there longer than I meant to, my fingers curling into my palm. One mistake could be nothing. A tired guard. A slip of the tongue.But it didn’t stop.By midday, it had happened three more times. Once in the kitchens. Once near the council wing. Once from a female wolf who had knelt without looking up, only to stiffen when she caught my scent properly.Each time, the apology came fast. Each time, the confusion lingered longer.I found Lyra in the gardens, sitting on the low stone wall near the frost trees. She wore gray today. The sa
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