Chapter Twenty-Four
Everything had changed about the Lunar palace in her absence.
She could smell it in the crisp Autumn air, feel it whispering through the moonblossom petals as they sank to the ground.
She’d parted with the king in the quiet hours of the morning, after a lengthy discussion on how to shield herself from Astra’s prying mind, but she still feared the sight of those wild ruby curls.
First on their long list of action items was to find the commander.
Mercury had arrived before the Lunarians—Oestera insisted on an agonizingly silent breakfast with the king and Yallara. Lunelle took full advantage of the chaos of returning to slip away from the Lunar Gate and rush through the halls, Lura hot on her heels.
“I’m to have tea with Ameera this morning to catch up on anything vital we missed,”
Lura said quietly as they rounded the corner to the Andromeda wing.
“I cannot imagine how long a list that will be,”
Lunelle muttered.
“The king and I are meeting with Luxuros. He’s to catch us up on Nova activity in Ellume. We’re going to tell him what’s happened. Mirquios wants his take on how to handle Arcas.”
“Your mother aims to assemble the council in an hour.”
“I’ll see you then,”
Lunelle said, parting with her at the end of the hall. Her feet carried her to the library unconsciously. Her safe space—the only space she could think clearly in.
Mirquios and Luxuros were already halfway into a kettle of coffee when she found them behind a row of shelves, dark bags under both their eyes.
“Princess,”
Luxuros said, rising from his perch on the arm of the couch as his king stood and hovered, his eyes struggling to stay neutral.
She’d forgotten in all their time on Pluto what she looked like under pure, unfiltered moonlight. She was always intriguing to watch, no matter her surroundings, but the way the Moon embraced her, bounced from her pale skin… it reminded her that she was so much more than mere regent.
She was magic in her own right.
“Commander,”
she said, nodding as she reached for the empty teacup on the table. Mirquios leaned forward, sifting through a pewter box of tea bags until he found a chamomile sachet. He placed it in her cup and added a splash of cream before she could even get her bearings.
“Well then,”
Luxuros said, a soft chuckle leaving his throat.
“I can’t imagine what urgent matter you two need to discuss.”
He folded his arms across his chest, his eyes darting between the two of them as they orbited one another on the sofa, maintaining a plausible amount of distance.
But it did not matter.
It never had.
Lunelle sighed.
“Luxuros?—”
The commander held up his hands.
“Please, only tell me what I must know. I can only keep so much from your sister.”
“I believe we’re all of the same fear where Astra is concerned,”
Lunelle said.
Mirquios winced.
“Here is what you need to know—the princess and I Tethered. Obviously, not ideal in and of itself, but the Plutonian prince has made a bad situation worse. You no doubt heard about the raid on The Underground shortly after you left, Luxuros. That led to us unfortunately exposing our association to Arcas, which he is now using as a threat to force Lunelle to marry him.”
Luxuros let out a breath, shaking his head.
“What a fucking mess,” he said.
Lunelle pursed her lips.
“Sorry.”
The commander offered a pity smile, but he was right. It was a mess.
“Arcas is bad enough,”
Lunelle said.
“But then there’s Astra’s heart to consider, as well.”
Mirquios and Luxuros exchanged a look.
The commander tilted his head.
“Do you really think your sister would hesitate for one moment if you told her the truth?”
Lunelle frowned.
“I know she wouldn’t. That’s the problem. She’d sacrifice herself the moment she suspected, but I fear what my mother will resort to if Mirquios is no longer an option. She’d likely throw her at Arcas, or another court.”
Luxuros buried a pained laugh.
“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to picture a scenario in which Astra does not turn Arcas into a pile of ash within five minutes of meeting him.”
His laugh melted into a grimace, a well of thoughts opening within his chest that Lunelle would have followed if they weren’t on such a pressing schedule.
“You know, she might just be the key,”
Mirquios said.
“When she finds out your mother is forcing you to marry him, she’ll burn the entire court to the ground for you.”
Lunelle wrestled with the way that image pulled at her heart.
“We’re heading to Mercury this evening,”
Luxuros said.
“We have to meet with our Nova captain, perhaps Astra could come along and we could catch her up?—”
“No,”
Lunelle said.
Mirquios turned to her, stunned by her clipped response.
“I do not want Astra traveling between courts. The Rift is dangerous for any of us with how much activity we’ve seen with Solan over these past few months, but she’s… it’s too dangerous. Astra comes with her own set of risks, too. She can be volatile and short-sighted?—”
Luxuros straightened his shoulders.
“Forgive my bluntness, Princess, but you do not know your sister half as well as you think if you fear her safety.”
The commander bit back something else, his eyes narrowed in defense of Astra.
Lunelle squared herself to him.
“I am sure in your time with her, you’ve seen her proclivity for flames first, questions later.”
Mirquios cleared his throat.
“I know that was true of her in her younger years, Lunelle. But the commander has been keeping me well updated on her abilities and the discipline she’s developed. You should see the work she’s accomplished in Celene alone?—”
“What of Celene?”
Lunelle asked, confused as she looked to Luxuros.
Lux shrugged.
“I do not know anything about Celene,”
he said.
“But from what I’ve seen in Ellume and often in response to my own pushing, your sister spends the majority of her energy sparing us the wrath of the Fire Queen, not unleashing it.”
Lunelle did not care. She did not care what they thought they knew about her sister, or even if they were right. She could stomach the consequences of her own actions, but she could not stomach Astra paying for them.
“Promise me you will not take Astra into the Rift,”
she said, eyes locked on Mirquios.
“And while we’re at it, we cannot ask her to give any more of herself to the rebellion until she knows what’s happened. I cannot allow it.”
He sighed, the Tether pulling between them.
“Promise me.”
“I promise,”
he relented.
She turned to Luxuros.
“I will make no such promise to you, Princess. I cannot. And I cannot keep your secrets from her forever. You need to tell her tonight. As soon as possible. Or I will, whether I mean to or not.”
She eyed the men. Luxuros was the closest thing Mirquios had to a brother, and yet there still wasn’t the same cursed blood between them. The fear of losing one another was not carved into their bones the way it lived in ancient markings on hers.
Lunelle stepped toward the commander, her slender frame dwarfed by his as she held his gaze.
“Whatever it is that has passed between you two, whatever it is you think you understand about her… if you’re wrong, Commander, I assure you will pray for the wrath of the Fire Queen over her frigid sister.”
Lunelle left the library in an icy silence, stilling her heart as she prepared to see her sister again.
Lunelle waited outside the Celestial Hall until the last possible moment to enter. She could see Astra’s red halo, feel her uncertainty as she quietly wound her way to her seat at the council’s table.
“Ladies,”
her mother began as Lunelle made it through the first set of seats.
“As you all know, Pluto has declared their intentions to join the Lunar Court and Inner Courts as tensions build with Solaris. Solan’s armies are gathering in the rings of Saturn and Neptune’s seas. We cannot hesitate to send a message of unity.”
Lunelle slid into her designated space beside her sister, the sweet florals of her moonblossom perfume like a warm embrace she didn’t know she missed so terribly.
Astra’s voice immediately slipped into her mind. There you are!
Sorry. I needed to freshen up. Lunelle kept her eyes fixed on their mother, her heart locked behind a brick wall the way Mirquios had taught her.
Astra was frantic, and Lunelle could feel the tension building in her chest. Are you okay? I couldn’t even sense you.
Oestera continued, “In an effort to show our firm support for Pluto’s wise decision to join in our fight against the oppression and tyranny of Solaris...”
Lunelle shrugged, doing everything within her power to maintain a casual air.
I’m fine. Just tired. It’s a long trip.
That was, unsurprisingly, not enough for her sister.
Everyone is being weird. What are you hiding?
Lunelle sat up, her spine tightening as she realized where her mother’s speech was going, and how much sooner she’d have to confront her reality than she had prepared for.
“It is my honor to announce to you that Arcas, the Prince of Pluto, has joined us along with his court for Lunelle’s trial. He’ll be the sole Lunar champion, signifying?—”
“What?”
Astra yelped, her fingers tightening around the arm of her chair.
“What part aren’t you clear on, Astra?”
Oestera sighed.
Astra’s anger echoed in the hall, “The part where you—the queen of ‘tradition matters, Astra’—are shucking centuries of ritual by only nominating one champion? The part where you’ve invited a court full of people who were our sworn enemies until a month ago and then promised your successor to them? Have you lost your mind?”
“Astra,”
Lunelle said, reaching for her sister.
“Why even put her through a trial if you’re going to dictate the outcome? Just plan a wedding instead!”
“Astra Leona, that is enough!”
Oestera’s harsh yell bounded against the crystalline walls of the palace, silencing any thoughts in Lunelle’s mind.
“This is insanity,”
Astra cried.
“How could you do this to her?”
Lunelle silently begged her sister to sit back down, to let her shoulder this burden. Her outburst only served as more proof that Astra was already holding onto too much.
Oestera slowly exhaled, recomposing herself.
“Your sister is not a child, Astra. She understands the role she plays. This is not the time to be soft. If you were more willing to do what was necessary for your court?—”
Astra’s hands went up in defense, that aventurine ring on her finger glinting in the moonlight. Lunelle’s hand involuntarily flexed under the absence of weight on her palm.
Astra’s voice dropped to a dangerous tone.
“I’m more than willing to do what needs to be done to further the well-being of my court, something I would argue you have never done!”
The harsh words landed as Astra hoped. Lunelle could see the wince begging at her mother’s lips.
“Perhaps you should be down the hall with your intended’s court since your allegiance is clearly not to your queen.”
They held each other in a brutal stare. Astra broke the silence first.
“My allegiance is to the people upon whose backs you’ll fight this war. My allegiance is to my sister and the court she’ll have to piece back together after the mess you’re making of it.”
Gods, Lunelle’s heart cracked for both of them. She knew the painful wound Astra was rubbing salt in—she understood it in ways her sister never would.
“You’re right, Astra.”
Oestera returned, a queen defeated.
“What would I know about piecing together a broken court?”
She would not give Astra a chance to volley another insult.
“You are dismissed.”
Astra stormed out of the hall, taking her fury with her, but Oestera never recovered. The rest of their meeting was disjointed and sporadic, two things the Lunar queen never allowed herself to be.
The thing Lunelle hated most. Uncertainty.
She made her exit the moment Oestera fielded a final question from a councilwoman, aiming for the bed she’d missed every night for months.
“Lunelle.”
Arcas appeared from the edge of the gardens between her bedroom and the Celestial Hall, his expression an unreadable mask.
“I have no interest in games today, Arcas,”
Lunelle muttered as she brushed by him, ignoring her name as he called it twice more.
For the first time in weeks, she desired to actually be alone.
She’d done a great job of hiding from the rest of the world for most of the night.
So much so that she’d missed Lura’s soft footsteps as they found her in her study, unable to sleep, despite her exhaustion.
“Lunelle?”
She glanced up from her book—not that she’d retained a single word—and was instantly up as Lura’s expression sparked a panic in her.
“What’s happened?”
“Your sister?—”
“Oh, gods, what did my mother do?—”
“No,”
Lura laughed.
“Not your mother. Though if she knew, she’d have your sister imprisoned. I was just out in the gardens, and one of the guards saw her leave with the Mercurians.”
Lunelle rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Where?”
Lura cleared her throat, her eyes glancing out Lunelle’s window at the expansive aurora in the sky.
“The Rift.”
“Mother above,”
Lunelle sighed. She was already on her way through the door and into her dressing room.
“That godsdamned traitor!”
Lunelle ripped through her clothing, searching for a pair of pants amongst the gowns and dresses. Her fingers ran over a pair of old riding leathers she’d never put to work, and she wasted no time yanking them on.
“Here’s your cloak,”
Lura said.
“And your dagger.”
Lura pushed a cool metal dagger into her hand, and Lunelle’s heart stuttered. She knew the handle bore a Mercurian seal.
“Are you coming with me?”
Lunelle asked Lura.
She shook her head.
“Ameera and I will keep watch here. We’ll send someone if your mother comes calling.”
Lunelle twisted her long braid into a crown atop her head, pinning it with a silver star before tucking Mirquios’s dagger into her boot.
“Goddesspeed, Lu,”
Lura said.
“Pray for Mercury’s foolish king and his asinine commander, not me,”
Lunelle chuckled darkly.