Chapter Thirty
The domed Constellation Room was a place Denne rarely went.
It had always made her feel uncomfortable, like she was an imposter in a sacred temple, and as she entered in front of her parents, her eyes went to the white circle in the center.
She had never sat in that special designation, even though she was allowed to as the heir to the throne, and for the first time, she walked over to it, stopping just outside of the demarcation.
“Dennesha,” her father said.
She pinned a smile on her face and turned around. “Uh-oh, my government name. What’s wrong?”
Even though she assumed this was about t’On and birth charts and shit she didn’t want to think about, maybe she’d luck out and they were just going to confront her about the human she’d murdered.
You know, something lighter and less troublesome to deal with.
Although knowing her luck, they’d cover the dead guy first and then hit her with her destiny as a chaser.
Her mother, the Queen, moved across the floor like she was floating, no discernible footsteps happening, the shimmering golden robe like sunlight on water at the height of the summer.
And for a moment, Denne went back to her pretrans years, when she would sneak away from her tutor and swim in the ponds inside the Territory.
Such freedom in the safe rebellion she’d exercised back then, always returning to the palace before anyone noticed, thrilled and damp with her little secret.
“I don’t even know where to begin,” Catra said as she looked at her mate.
When iAm just thinned his lips and nodded, her mother took a deep breath like she was about to launch a monologue that’d make War and Peace look like a pamphlet.
“t’On came to see me tonight at the restaurant,” Denne interjected before they got on a roll.
“In a suit, which was a surprise. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him out of ceremonial robing so it was good to find out he actually has legs.
I was starting to worry he’d never have that soccer-player-second-act males always seem to go for. ”
In the dim light, her father’s black eyes gleamed. “What did he tell you?”
“Just that the shooting stars from last night meant something about him and me, and the Territory. I was closing up so I didn’t pay a lot of attention.”
Ratting the guy out for showing her the chart didn’t seem right, somehow. But she couldn’t bear to play pretend while her parents dragged out the truth she already knew.
“There was a prophecy,” Catra said softly, “that was revealed on the night of your transition. We should have presented the chart to you back then.”
“But we didn’t want you to be pressured.” iAm cursed under his breath, that stare softening with apology. “We both thought it was important for you to live your own life. Find your own way.”
Except she hadn’t been doing that, had she. She’d just been clocking in and out, going through the motions. Not that it was their fault.
“We’d like to go over the chart with you now,” her mother said. “So that you can read it yourself. And then we should talk about what you think.”
Denne nodded, even though she didn’t want to see the damn thing. Somehow that would make all this real.
She followed this time, her parents leading the way to the far side of the dome.
Halfway across, they reached for each other’s hands at the same moment, and the link between them registered in the center of her own chest. She could not imagine life without them, and didn’t remember the last time she’d bothered to tell them that.
Or proved it, in some way.
The sacred chart room was a restricted library that only the Queen and the Tretary had access to. Everybody else could enter only at their invitation, and she supposed she could have asked at any time to see what was inside, and her mother would have let her.
She just hadn’t wanted to know.
The Queen opened the black glass door, and soft lighting glowed down from the ceiling, a false sun dawning in a gentle way in the black marble room.
Denne hesitated before she stepped inside, feeling like once she was over the threshold there was no going back. But as her parents looked at her, she was compelled forward, numb feet carrying her numb body into…
Well, it was like an upscale mail room.
From floor-to-ceiling, every inch of the walls was stacked with slotted compartments, and there was no counting them. A thousand? More. And as her eyes skipped around until she was dizzy, she realized in a sickening rush why she’d never come in here or stepped inside that white circle out there.
Why she’d been floating through life.
She’d been born to replace her mother.
And that was only going to happen when the reigning Queen was dead.
In some fucked-up part of her brain, she felt like as long as she didn’t embrace the training or the role of heir to the throne or any connection to the s’Hisbe, she could keep her mother alive—and that wasn’t just for Catra. It was for her father, too.
“I have it over here,” her mother said.
In the back corner, there was a black marble table that had an inset square of glass in the center. Two rolling pins were set in mounts on either side, and a stretch of parchment extended under the viewing pane, spotlit by pinprick lights in the black ceiling.
Clearly the tiny bulbs were intended to resemble the stars.
“This is the chart that was done the night of your transition,” Catra said roughly, her dark hand motioning around the pattern of dots, the cursive notations beneath them, and the golden embellishments on the edges.
“As you can see, the orientation of the constellations is clear, and here is where the two falling stars met last night at the time listed.”
“So is that supposed to represent t’On and me?” Denne asked in a low voice.
“Yes,” her mother explained. “This is your quadrant, the House of Ruling, and his is over here, in the House of Service. The falling stars begin in the right places, and converge over the Territory’s rising moon, that of its future.
Together, you will secure the s’Hisbe for the next generations to come. ”
Even though t’On had snuck the chart out to show her a couple of years ago, she felt like she had never seen the thing before. Then again, her capacity for ignoring what was in front of her had been a carefully honed skill.
Forcing her eyes to focus, the grid that had been overlaid across the constellations finally registered and so did all the titles and notes in various precious-metal inks that had been so painstakingly inscribed by t’On.
Without her mother’s direction, she wouldn’t have known what anything was.
Then again, she couldn’t read the script because she’d fucked off so many of those tutorials on the s’Hisbe’s traditional language.
“What about you two?” She leaned down for a closer look, not that it did anything to improve her comprehension. “The Queen and Consort should be in that future square, too.”
“This chart is really about you and t’On,” her father said.
“But as my parents and the current leaders, you should be somewhere here.” When her parents didn’t respond, she straightened. “Where are you.”
“We’re not in the chart,” Catra said. “But like your father—”
“No, there’s a mistake. You’re both young, and I know you want to stay on the throne.
Look at all you’ve accomplished, and there’s more work to be done.
” She thought about what t’On had told her of the most recent visit from the humans.
“I know no one is overthrowing your leadership, and you’re healthy—and if the Territory continues and I’m wearing the crown, I’m certainly not going to stand for either of you being mistreated. So… what’s up.”
iAm’s eyes went to the parchment, and the remote expression that took over his face was oddly terrifying. “We think it just means your mother is not on the throne.”
“But you’re not sure.”
“This isn’t about us,” he repeated. “This is about you, and your destiny—and your choice.”
“This is a blueprint.” Her mother touched the glass that protected the parchment and its ink and precious-metal details.
“I like to think of the charts as the snapshot of the landscape that’s in front of you.
What this is telling us is that you have an opportunity to play a significant role in preserving the future of the s’Hisbe if you and t’On choose to be mated. ”
From out of nowhere, like a bolt of lightning in her head, the kiss she’d shared with Allhan slammed into her consciousness again.
“And if I don’t?”
Her parents locked eyes with each other. Then her father answered, “Then this chart will have a different outcome in this sector, here.”
He circled over the grid that apparently was tied to the s’Hisbe.
That was when she saw there was a shadow underneath the golden writing, like something had been erased or deliberately obscured.
“What’s this?” she asked. “These smudges here.”
There was a long pause. “That is the alternate future, if you do not choose the path shown.”
“And what does it say?” She looked back and forth between them. “What happens if I don’t mate t’On?”
iAm released his breath with a curse.
Her mother was the one who answered. “It says that unless you do, everyone in the s’Hisbe…”
In the silence that followed, she found herself praying that there was another explanation, another outcome. But when the Queen couldn’t continue, everything became horribly, terribly clear, in a way it hadn’t when only she and t’On had been talking.
“Dies,” Denne finished with horror. “That’s what it means, right?”