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Home›Fiction›Lover of the Queen: Revelation

Lover of the Queen: Revelation

By Amana Zanella
February 2, 2026
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A bright light comes through the leaves in the woods.
Melloo / Unsplash
This entry is part 8 of 8 in the series Lover of the Queen

Lover of the Queen

A bright light comes through the leaves in the woods.

Lover of the Queen: Prologue

September 29, 2025
A bright light comes through the leaves in the woods.

Lover of the Queen: Preparations

October 13, 2025
A bright light comes through the leaves in the woods.

Lover of the Queen: Magic

October 27, 2025
A bright light comes through the leaves in the woods.

Lover of the Queen: Reunion

November 10, 2025
A bright light comes through the leaves in the woods.

Lover of the Queen: Procession

November 24, 2025
A bright light comes through the leaves in the woods.

Lover of the Queen: Feast

December 22, 2025
A bright light comes through the leaves in the woods.

Lover of the Queen: Encounter

January 19, 2026
A bright light comes through the leaves in the woods.
Melloo / Unsplash

Lover of the Queen: Revelation

February 2, 2026
5
(1)

The happiness I clung to blinded me to her absence. Dim, flickering lights suffused the moment with a ghostly breeze, and I surrendered to it. The atmosphere thickened, every barrier dissolving with the seductive mist.

My mind shifted to the problem unfolding before me. Did I do something wrong? The instruments kept playing, mirroring the night’s mood as it escalated into things our parents should never witness, and I thanked Lossar for Her infinite wisdom in sending us to the mystic courtyard.

I turned my head, scanning for any signs — her vibrant hair, dark skin, anything. My eyes stung, a lump choking my thoughts. Remembering her presence jolted me with resolve. I refused to stand paralyzed again.

It was impossible to ignore the carnal scene unfolding within my line of sight, so I inhaled deeply and searched once more. To my surprise, a lunar moth glided in front of me.

Amid bodies and songs, the creature danced to the tune, then flew away toward a part of the courtyard I’d never visited.  Its walls were torn down, a stony path leading into the woods. As I followed the insect, rainbow colors flashed in the background, mixing with the trunks and leaves. 

I sped up, but the more I advanced, the more obstacles appeared. Less than ten yards later, Dinesh bumped into me, but paid it no mind. Zhihan was dragging him into a corner. She wore one of his necklaces on her head and wrapped the others around her right index finger, a fancy leash for an obedient lover. My red-headed friend followed her, his face crossed by a soft smile. 

Midway through the crowd, some younger revelers still hesitated, weighing where to go next. The two Mages I had seen earlier at Anahí’s tent—the one with a deep green mane, the other with short brown locks—staggered past me, laughing as they teased each other and shed what little clothing remained. 

Leaving the mob that formed in the middle of the patio was a hard task that few of us tried. Hands slid through my belly and arms, a lewd invitation to stay there. As I pushed out, Mayowa followed behind me and carried Léna in his arms, holding her just loosely enough to let her trace his face and sink her fingers into his curls.

“Thanks, Alessio.” He murmured before walking away.

Reaching my destination, I noticed something, or someone, was blocking the path toward the outskirts. To my surprise, Fredrik was leaning against the ruined wall, exhaling shakily as Khenan traced a finger along his side and kissed his neck, the two of them very much occupying the passage. I was tempted to congratulate them on their impeccable timing and chemistry, but urgent matters drew me into the forest.

Tall trees rose to the sky, bathed in pale moonlight. Night creatures resounded in unison, a lullaby in contrast to my feet stomping the floor. They sounded firm, but I felt shaken — I believed my minor distraction could’ve put what I wished for at risk.

My amethyst necklace jostled against my collarbone, and my fathers’ image came to me. I recalled their wishes, a painful reminder that I must’ve asked too much and pushed my luck during the Solstice. 

As I slowed, a tear traced my cheek. I ran my fingers through my mane, chest heaving. A dusky hoot broke the silence, and the owl above me weighed down its branch. I looked up, flicking away a leaf, and met the beast’s gaze. Its round, yellow eyeballs stood out against the feathers of a peculiar, deep blue. 

What a weird shade. It reminds me of Ji-Ah’s hair, soft and flowy.

Then, once again, clarity struck me.

Wait. Ji-Ah said the Mother had been listening. If she’s paying close attention, that means…

I grabbed my pendant and squeezed it in my palm, closed my eyes, and whispered:

“Oh, Lady of Time, merciful and kind. I am unworthy of all the blessings you have bestowed upon me so far. Yet, I beg you. Heed my call once more, and show me the way to the one who holds my soul.”

My lips had barely shut when the air changed. The wind whistled and brought the same lunar moth with it. The creature twirled before me, at arm’s reach, and flew deeper into the woods to the right.

“Blessed be, Lossar!” I gasped in awe and rushed after it.

The insect moved between the trees, which closed in around me. I kept my senses sharp, making sure nothing went unnoticed. With every step I took behind my ghostly guide, nature’s singers fell silent, one by one. Another sound slowly replaced theirs — one I knew all too well.

We arrived in a clearing by the village lake. Sand traced the shore where Khaarian children once played beneath watchful parents. The heavy summer air clung to me, prickling my skin as sweat slid down my spine. A shy breeze rippled the bushes, promising more coolness than it delivered. Think, Alessio. Where could she-

“You found me.”

The voice behind me made my heart skip a beat. As I turned, my legs gave way, my knees buckled as if they no longer remembered how to hold me, and I sank to the ground. The moon reflected off the water’s surface, beaming with splendor, and under that same light, Anahí’s beauty rivaled it, undeniable and still. 

“Milady.” My voice broke. “I was afraid I’d never see you again. What happened?”

The Rainbow Mage sauntered in my direction. Her gaze lingered on me, as if my coming there were never meant to be achieved.

“When She warned me of how stubborn you were, I had no clue you truly lived up to it.” Her mouth curved in a foxlike smile.

“Who told you that? I didn’t have any contact with women before the Solstice.” My brow furrowed.

“The Great Mother, silly.” She giggled.

My puzzled look delighted her, and her grin widened in response.

“You were seven when you prayed for the first time. Only a few months had passed since you began dreaming of me. Your father, Alejandro, had read you a story about my ancestors’ evil deeds and the cruelty we were said to embody. Right after, you ran to your room, tears flooding your small amethysts, and asked Lossar to help you prove them wrong.”

The memory tightened in my chest.

“The person in my dream was kind and loving, not a cruel monster. That was how you ended your plea.”

Any words I considered adequate for that moment died before coming out of my lips. My pulse thudded in my ears, my jaw tightened, and goosebumps crawled over my arms.

“And I thought you would take the tip when Léna and Zhihan said my conjuring was powerful.” Anahí’s hand slid down her left leg, inside her boot, and pulled out a silver dagger. “But you seem surprised, so I believe I should’ve made myself clearer.”

“M-my Queen…” I trembled, eyes wide open.

“Before we met, you even asked me to take you as… my offering.” She ran her thumb along the blade, her stare never leaving mine. “If you spoke the truth, then what follows cannot be undone.”


Editor: Lucy Cafiero

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Lover of the Queen

Lover of the Queen: Encounter
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Amana Zanella

Amana Zanella is a Brazilian storyteller from Minas Gerais who believes creation blooms from chaos. With over 40 tattoos and vibrant hair, she crafts dark, daring tales exploring Latin American themes, fierce female leads, and LGBTQIAPN+ narratives. Her work shines in the anthology Femme Fatale: Damas de Sangue (2023). A horror, action, and sci-fi fanatic, she geeks out over Sherlock Holmes, Star Trek, and Pacific Rim. Though her intense focus might seem intimidating, Amana’s a sweetheart who loves chatting and adores dogs. After all, even the darkest hearts have a soft spot for furry friends.

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