Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Astra
The mortar and pestle feel familiar in my hands as I grind dried moonflower petals into powder. The rhythmic motion soothes my nerves, even as worry gnaws at my chest like a persistent ache.
“The key is to crush them just enough to release the oils,” I explain to Mira, one of the royal healers who has been eager to learn my techniques. “Too much pressure and you’ll destroy the medicinal properties.”
She nods earnestly, taking notes in her leather-bound journal. “And this helps with sleep disturbances?”
“Nightmares, specifically,” I say, adding a pinch of lavender to the mixture. “The combination creates a calming effect that promotes peaceful rest.”
For the past two weeks, I’ve been teaching the younger healers my methods, and they now hang on my every word. But I’ve also been watching Lucian slowly disappear behind walls I can’t breach.
“Lady Astra?” Mira’s voice pulls me from my momentary brooding yet again. “Should I prepare the tincture base now?”
“Yes, but remember—moonflower only works at half-strength during daylight hours.”
I force myself to focus on the lesson, but my mind keeps drifting to this morning. To the way Lucian’s hands shook slightly as he reached for his coffee. To the dark circles under his eyes that seem to deepen each day. To the careful distance he maintains between us, even in our own bed.
Something is wrong. Something beyond the political pressures of court or the stress of recent events. My mate is struggling with something he won’t share, and it’s killing me to watch him suffer alone.
“The morning dose should be administered with honey,” I continue, my hands moving automatically through the familiar motions. “It masks the bitter taste and aids absorption.”
What makes it worse is how gentle he has become with me. Where once he was commanding, possessive, deliciously rough in ways that made my body sing, now he touches me like I might break. His kisses are tender when I crave fire, his hands reverent when I want to be claimed.
I miss my fierce prince. I miss the way he used to pin me against walls and growl that I belong to him. Now he whispers endearments against my hair and makes love to me with such careful sweetness that I want to scream.
“Lady Astra, there’s a guard here to see you.”
I look toward the voice and see one of the palace servants standing in the doorway. Her expression is neutral, but her eyes flicker in a way that makes my stomach clench.
“A guard?”
“He says Prince Lucian has requested your presence.”
My heart leaps with hope. Maybe he’s finally ready to talk. Maybe whatever has been eating at him can finally be addressed.
“Healer Mira, continue with the preparation. Add the willow bark extract after the base cools.” I set down my tools and smooth my dress. “I’ll be back soon.”
The guard waiting in the corridor is unfamiliar to me—tall, broad-shouldered, with the kind of unremarkable face that would disappear in a crowd. He inclines his head respectfully.
“Lady Astra. His Highness requests your immediate presence.”
“Where is he?”
“This way, my lady.”
We walk through corridors I know well now, past tapestries depicting ancient battles and portraits of long-dead royalty. But something feels off. We are not going in the direction of Lucian’s study or his private chambers. Instead, we’re heading toward parts of the palace I rarely visit.
“Where exactly are we going?” I ask, my steps slowing.
“The Prince is in the eastern wing, my lady. A private meeting.”
The eastern wing? That’s near the servants’ quarters, close to the external exits. Unease crawls up my spine like ice-cold fingers.
“I don’t understand. Why would he be—”
“Lady Astra.” The guard stops abruptly and turns to face me, his expression no longer respectful. “Please continue walking.”
Every instinct I possess screams danger. This isn’t right. Lucian would never summon me through an unfamiliar guard to some distant corner of the palace. He’d come himself, or send Seth, or at the very least use someone I’d recognize.
I take a step backward. “I think there’s been a mistake. I should return to—”
“There’s no mistake.” The voice comes from behind me, smooth and familiar in the worst possible way.
I spin around, and my blood turns to ice.
Harper stands in the corridor, but she looks nothing like the broken woman who was dragged away during the trial. Her golden hair is clean and styled, her dress made of fine silk. Her blue eyes hold a coldness that makes my skin crawl.
“Hello, Astra.” Her smile is poison wrapped in beauty. “Miss me?”
“You’re supposed to be in the dungeons.” My voice comes out steadily despite the fear clawing at my throat. “How are you—”
“Oh, that.” She waves a dismissive hand. “Turns out I have more connections than dear Prince Lucian realized. Amazing what a few loyal allies can accomplish.”
I calculate distances, escape routes. The guard blocks the path ahead, Harper the one behind me. Side corridors branch off in both directions, but I don’t know where they lead.
“What do you want?” I demand, backing toward the wall.
“Justice.” The word drips like venom from her lips. “You stole my life, you worthless little nobody. My prince, my crown, my future. You ruined everything.”
“Lucian was never yours.”
Her face twists with rage. “He would have been! If you hadn’t seduced him with your pathetic damsel-in-distress act, if you hadn’t spread your legs for him in those woods—”
“That’s enough.” I make my move, darting toward the left corridor.
I only take three steps before Harper’s hand closes around my wrist. Pain explodes through my arm as her grip tightens with inhuman strength.
“Going somewhere?” Her voice is sickeningly sweet. “We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.”
She nods to the guard, who produces a small, glass vial filled with a clear liquid.
“What is that?” I struggle against Harper’s grasp, but she’s stronger than she should be. Unnaturally strong.
“Something to make you more...compliant.” Harper’s smile widens. “Don’t worry, it won’t kill you. We need you alive for what comes next.”
The guard uncorks the vial and moves toward me. I throw my weight backward, trying to break Harper’s hold, but she doesn’t budge.
“Hold still,” she purrs. “This will all be over soon.”
“No!” I twist desperately, managing to pull partially free. “Lucian will come for me. He’ll—”
“Lucian thinks you’re safely tucked away with your little healer friends.” Harper’s laugh is cruel. “He has no idea you’re even missing. And by the time he figures it out, you’ll be long gone.”
The guard grabs my chin and forces my head back. I clamp my lips shut, but he pinches my nose closed. Seconds stretch like hours as my lungs burn. Finally, my body betrays me, and I gasp for air.
The liquid burns down my throat like liquid fire. Immediately, my vision begins to blur around the edges.
“Good girl,” Harper coos, her face swimming in and out of focus. “Sleep now. When you wake up, the real fun begins.”
Darkness creeps in from all sides. The last thing I see is Harper’s triumphant grin before everything goes black.
The air smells of dampness and decay, with an underlying stench that makes my stomach churn. That’s the first sensation that penetrates the fog in my head. Then come the throbbing behind my eyes, the metallic taste in my mouth, and the bone-deep chill that seeps through my dress.
Where am I?
I force my eyes open despite the pounding in my skull and discover that I’m bound to a wooden chair, my hands tied behind my back and my ankles secured to the chair legs. The rope bites into my wrists when I try to move. Panic flares, acute and immediate, cutting through the drug-induced haze.
I’m in some kind of chamber carved out of rock. Torches flicker in sconces, casting dancing shadows that make the rough walls seem to writhe. The ceiling arches high above, disappearing into darkness.
“Ah, our guest awakens.”
The voice makes my blood freeze. Slowly, painfully, I turn my head toward the sound.
Zari sits in an ornate chair that looks absurdly out of place in this dungeon-like setting. Her dark hair is perfectly arranged, her court dress immaculate. She looks like she’s holding audience in a throne room instead of...wherever this is.
“Lady Zari.” My voice comes out as a croak. “What—”
“Confused?” She tilts her head with mock sympathy. “I suppose you would be. After all, you thought I was safely locked away, didn’t you? Another of your precious prince’s miscalculations.”
I struggle to sit up straighter in the chair, assessing my restraints. The rope cuts deeper into my wrists with every movement. “When Lucian finds out—”
“When Lucian finds out, the Council will already be through with you.” The casual way she says it sends a shiver down my spine.
“I never interfere in my father’s business, but you really forced my hand.
Lucian was always mine, Astra. Even if the fates gave him to you, I have the ability to snatch him back. ”
“You’re insane if you think—”
“What I think,” she interrupts me, rising from her chair with liquid grace, “is that you have caused quite enough trouble for one lifetime.”
As she moves, I see the others. Harper stands near the far wall, no longer bothering to hide her smugness. Beside her is a man I recognize with a jolt of horror: Alpha Gareth. He’s supposed to be in the dungeons, too, awaiting execution for treason.
But it’s the fourth figure that scares me the most—a man I recognize from the trial, one of the nobles who demanded Lucian hand me over to the Council for judgment.
Lord Aldric steps forward from the shadows, his silver hair gleaming in the torchlight. His cold eyes assess me like I’m a piece of meat.
I stare at him, remembering how his eyes lingered on me during the trial with that calculating gleam.
“Why?” The question tears from my throat. “What do you want with me?”
Lord Aldric’s smile is sharp as a blade. “You’re very valuable, Lady Astra. Your bloodline is, at least.”