Chapter Twenty-Five
“Sir?”
The barkeep’s eyes flickered from the crates beneath the aventurine slab to the silver-haired demigoddess in the doorway. His heart stopped. He knew her face.
“Your—Your Majesty?”
Lunelle shook her head.
“I’m here to see Mirq—the king.”
His jaw hung open as he slipped behind the bar and down the stairs to her right. She wasn’t sure if she should follow or not, but her chest was so filled with rage as she felt the tug of the Tether below, she didn’t care. She’d followed the damned thing through the Rift and into the Mercurian Court’s gilded streets, and she wasn’t about to stop.
She took the steps two at a time, the commander’s deep baritone voice floating up the stairwell.
“You can send her down. She knows why we’re here.”
The barkeep scooted past her as she hit the landing.
Astra stood just feet from her, but she’d never felt further away. She’d defended Lunelle so fiercely this afternoon, and now she was about to destroy her entire world in return.
A woman in the corner cleared her throat, her deep complexion and glowing green eyes that reminded Lunelle of Mirquios, who held his breath across from Astra.
Maeve, Lunelle realized. She’d heard tales of the Mercurian captain drinking with the Novas in The Underground. Maeve’s eyes danced at the sight of the princess, darting quickly between the four of them.
“Well, now. What a strange turn of events,” she said.
“We had a deal,”
Lunelle said to Mirquios, not nearly as forcefully as she wanted to. She was desperately in love with the man, but that didn’t make him any less of an idiot.
“I’m not breaking any of our rules,”
he replied in a tone that caressed her, though she knew she was being managed. Her sister did too, judging by the tick of her freckled cheek.
“Did she walk here?”
Lunelle asked, gesturing toward Astra, the rage spilling from her lungs.
“I was clear about taking her into the Rift, Mirq.”
Astra bristled at her sister’s unusual tone, the hardness of the notes sending her stumbling into the commander’s arms. Luxuros pushed her back, holding her steady.
“Lu,”
Mirquios said, a gesture of peace between his hands. Another flare lit her silver eyes from within.
“Good gods, Mirquios. Now you’ve pissed them both off.”
Maeve clucked at him as she stepped closer to the edge of the basement.
“Who do you put your money on for the final blow, Commander? Fire or Ice?”
“Fire,”
he said.
“Always Fire.”
He was ignorant of how far she’d go to avenge any hurt that came her sister's way, so unaware of the damage she’d do to him with a smile on her face.
“I need everyone in this room to start talking, now!”
Astra cried.
She was overwhelmed with the loaded silence of their chests, Lunelle realized. Each of them held too tightly to their emotions, creating a tension in the air that must have been worse for her than the symphony of heartache begging to escape.
“As,”
Lunelle murmured, softening the edge in her tone as she tried to dull the pain in her chest for her sister’s sake.
“You need to get back home. It’s not safe for you here.”
Astra groaned.
“Mother above, not you, too. I’m so sick of everyone telling me what I need to do with zero explanation!”
“The basement is yours,”
Maeve said as she exited toward the stairs.
“I just got things cleaned up down here, Fire Queen. I don’t want to return to a disaster,”
Maeve said.
Lunelle watched her climb the stairs, the barkeep waiting at the top to berate her for bringing so much drama to The Dune. Lunelle crossed the room, falling into one of the ancient armchairs across from Mirquios.
Her chest sighed in relief as his eyes met hers—no matter how angry she was with him.
Astra was not as relieved, understandably.
“If someone doesn’t start speaking, I’ll volunteer you.”
No one spoke as three sets of eyes bounced around the room.
“Very well,”
Astra muttered.
“Lunelle, ladies first.”
Shit. Lunelle drew in a sharp breath.
She beamed to her sister’s mind, Before we speak, I need your promise that Mother never finds out about anything you hear.
Astra rolled her amber eyes. Not telling Mother things is one of my favorite hobbies, Lunelle. Go.
She reached for her younger sister’s hands, closing the space between them, though she felt like knives were clawing their way out of her ribs.
“May the Mother bless us,”
she offered, hoping their old joke might disarm Astra.
“Within and Without Oestera’s knowledge.”
Her sister smiled, the exact effect Lunelle aimed for.
There was no use in delaying it.
“Fine. I don’t know where to start!”
Lunelle released a breath, letting the tension melt from her shoulders.
“Astra, there is no easy way to say what I want to, and I had planned on having a few more answers before we did this—”
her eyes narrowed at the king, “—but frankly, we’re running out of options and time.”
She tried to force the tears back. She hated burying Astra in more feelings that weren’t her burden to carry.
The commander spoke up, his gaze cold as it fell to Lunelle.
“Just tell her. She can handle it.”
Lunelle nodded toward Luxuros. He’d been clear earlier in the day. If they didn’t tell her sister, he would.
She wanted to tell her. She knew she needed to. But what came out was something completely different from what she intended.
“Astra. I don’t think Selenia is who we think she is.”
“Princess,”
Luxuros growled, but Lunelle shook her head—she’d get there.
She continued, “I spent a lot of time with the rebels in Pluto. Their captain heard rumors back when Leona died that Selenia sold her out to the Solar God in the Court Above. He didn’t know what she got out of it on her end, but the Outer Courts all hold it as common knowledge that Selenia betrayed Leona and Solan, leading to Leona’s death.”
Astra turned to Luxuros, a burning question on her tongue.
“Does she know about the Shadow Bargaining?”
Shadow Bargaining. Lunelle shivered at the term—it certainly couldn’t be a positive thing. Nothing was when Selenia was involved, she realized.
“I figured you’d want to brief them,”
Luxuros said.
“Shadow Bargaining?”
Lunelle rose from her chair.
“Ivonne Bloodmoon was researching Selenia. She thinks Mother is covering up the fact that Selenia traded her Shadow to the Nether Queen for some of her power.”
“What would she need more power for? She’s already an Ascended Lunar Goddess!”
Astra sighed.
“That’s where we got stuck, too. Lux and I brought a dozen texts back with us from Ellume, but we can’t think of a motive. The Outer Courts believe it had something to do with Leona?”
Lunelle straightened her back, her shoulders still tense with the unspoken secret she could only hold quietly within her chest for another moment. She turned toward her sister.
“Will you show me in the morning? I tried to prod Mother on Selenia a few times, but she always clammed up.”
“Of course.”
Astra’s face fell, her heart sinking.
The commander’s head tilted, his fiery gaze darting between the women. His lips parted, and Lunelle braced herself.
“There’s something else,”
the commander urged.
“Luxuros,”
the king warned.
Astra’s brows furrowed.
“What is it?”
Her silvery stare hit the floor, unable to look Astra in the eye.
“Lunelle,”
Astra whispered.
“You can tell me anything. I’m your sister.”
Luxuros rubbed his broad chest, a familiar gesture to Lunelle. Her throat tightened—how many times had she seen the king push at the same spot? He fixed his eyes on Lunelle and Mirquios, waiting.
“She deserves to know,” he said.
Lunelle swallowed her pride, her shame, her betrayal. Astra did deserve to know. She inhaled, summoning the bravery she so seldom tapped.
“While we were away, I Tethered.”
A sharp gasp escaped her sister.
“Oh gods, not the Plutonian!”
Astra rubbed her temples, swallowing. She’d been so vocally against their impending union.
“Not Arcas,”
Mirquios said.
“As,”
Lunelle whispered, letting the wall within her crumble slowly, showing her sister all the layers of guilt and pain she’d built over the memory of her world falling into his.
She bit her lip as Astra watched them, unsure of what came next. The king sighed slowly as he crossed the space between them and rested a gentle palm on Lunelle’s shoulder.
She glanced up at Mirquios, desperate to absorb even a modicum of the calmness in his breath.
He broke the pained silence in the room.
“Astra, I never would have agreed to our deal and put you in such a precarious position if I so much as suspected. I’d crossed paths with your sister a dozen times before we left. I never dreamed…”
Lunelle fought the urge to smile at him. Astra didn’t need to see the spark of joy his words kindled, the hazy library in her mind, built just for them.
“We were trying to find a solution,”
Lunelle whispered.
“A way to sever it. We weren’t going to tell you until we had a plan.”
She placed her hand over the king’s.
“Oh.”
Astra sighed, her eyes drinking in the sight of them.
“Astra.”
Lunelle leaned forward, ready to throw herself on the ground and grovel, but she watched something snap inside of her sister.
Something like relief.
“Oh my gods,”
Astra shouted, falling into a chair and covering her mouth. A ripple of laughter fell from her lips.
“Oh, Lunelle. No wonder you’ve been so strange!”
Lunelle joined her laughter as the men eyed them, confused.
“The day you told me you Tethered to Mirquios, I felt a piece of me die, Astra. I thought it was because I was losing you… but I think I was losing both of you and didn’t even realize it. We’ve had every historian we know between the two of us hunting for a way to sever the Tether.”
“No!”
Astra stood, pushing the chair back behind her.
“You shouldn’t! You can’t!”
Lunelle waved her hands.
“Well, we certainly cannot?—”
“Yes, you can! It makes perfect sense, Lu. You’re both so similar, so calm. Like tranquil seas.”
“Boring, you mean?”
Mirquios scoffed.
“No,”
Astra said, a shallow laugh bubbling from her as she searched for the right words.
“The world needs more of you two and less of my uncontrolled burn, I assure you. And besides, it’s not like we had chemistry on our side. I’d begun to wonder if I could go the rest of my life without—”
Astra stopped herself, a faint blush crawling over her cheeks. “Sorry.”
Mirquios was not offended.
“I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t been a concern for me, too, Princess. Forever is a long time.”
Lunelle leaned back into him, his fingers grasping her shoulder tighter.
“Indeed,”
Astra relented.
Lunelle watched her sister’s face for any signs of resentment—any hint of pain.
“So you’re not angry? Or hurt?”
Astra shook her head, her scarlet curls bouncing.
“Who am I to fight Fate, Lunelle? We signed no contracts, there are no hard feelings on my end. I assume Mirquios told you the truth of our deal? And it’s not the first broken engagement Mother has navigated. This is a good thing, my sister.”
Lunelle sighed. If only it were that simple—that easy to move forward.
“It’s a tad more complex, As.”
“Arcas,”
Mirquios muttered. The name sent a lightning bolt through the Tether.
“Your mother is determined to marry Lunelle off to him. She does not know anything transpired between us. I didn’t want to erode her trust in you. When the Tether happened, it caught us both off guard. We were so in shock, we didn’t speak for three days.”
So in shock, Lunelle thought, that I nearly considered flinging myself off the cliffs into the Plutonian sea just to escape it.
“Wait,”
Astra turned toward the commander.
“You said she knows why we’re here. How!”
Astra wasn’t asking, she was exclaiming.
A soft grin broke over Lunelle’s pale face.
“I know you think I am soft and perfectly groomed by Mother, but I have my secrets. The Plutonian rebels contacted me for a meeting when we arrived. I’d heard rumors of their rise in council sessions… I followed Mirquios to their base.”
“She forced me to bind her to the rebellion. When our palms touched…”
Mirquios mirrored Lunelle’s expression.
“Between running into one another at The Underground and the Tether, we were both overwhelmed. We decided to deal with it when we returned, but then we were there for so long. We became good friends, but nothing more. For your sake, Astra.”
“No need for details,”
Astra insisted, a heat rising to her cheeks. Lunelle sighed, trying not to think of how badly she’d wanted to betray her sister in Pluto.
“Lu made me swear I’d tell you before getting you involved in any rebel activity, but when Lux informed me of your run-in with the Lunarian Novas, I may have skirted that rule.”
Lunelle scoffed.
“I also made him promise not to let you into the Rift.”
“That wasn’t my doing,”
Mirq laughed.
“The commander insisted.”
Astra’s eyebrow curved. “You?”
Luxuros remained silent. Lunelle did not miss the curious glance Mirquios shot toward his second-in-command.
“He wanted you to see the Sun, in case you didn’t get the chance, depending on what happens next.”
Astra’s lips twisted.
“What does happen next?”
“I’m not sure,”
Lunelle admitted.
“I was hoping we could figure it out together.”
“I have another question,”
Astra announced, drawing both Lunelle and Mirquios’s attention.
“When did my prim-and-proper older sister get so interesting?”
Lunelle’s heart lurched, the admiration in her sister’s eyes so undeserved.
“I’ve always admired your spirit and ideas, Sister,”
she insisted.
“I’m just more willing to play the part than you ever were. I knew someday I’d sit on the throne and be able to enact the changes we hoped for, but patience has never been a virtue of the Fire Queen.”
Astra’s eyes scraped over the shelves of the basement.
“I think I need a second to get my head around all of this.”
“I’d actually like a word with the king, anyway,”
Lunelle said, her heart beating faster at the thought of being alone with him, unbound to the honor they’d both previously clung to.
“I met with Mother again last night before bed. We need to talk about my trial.”
Mirquios leaned toward Astra.
“If you’d like to see the palace, Luxuros can give you a tour. We’ll meet you at the gate in an hour.”
“Of course.”
A sadness slipped over Astra’s face.
“My heart broke, Astra. I was ready to conquer the world with you. Never doubt that,”
Mirquios assured her.
Astra patted his shoulder lightly, her eyes staying on the commander.
“Do not mourn for me, Mirquios. It seems we’ll be conquering the world alongside one another, anyway. I’ll make sure of it.”
She squeezed her sister’s hand, disappearing up the stairs.
Lunelle counted the heavy thuds of the commander’s boots as he followed Astra out of The Dune. A silence fell between them, though she swore she could hear the buzzing of the Tether as if it had sparked to life.
Mirquios did not seem sure what to do with his hands, an air of insecurity she nearly laughed at from such a confident leader.
They’d spent months keeping their hands to themselves—sitting on them if that’s what it took—anything to keep the lines between them clean.
But here, in the basement of The Dune, the line had suddenly vanished.
“Lu,”
he whispered. The sound was a sweet melody to her ears, despite the melancholy notes running beneath it.
“She seemed okay, right?”
Lunelle leaned into him, her gentle touch against his chest even more comforting than he’d imagined it might be.
“If Astra is half as strong-willed as you’ve alluded to, I imagine she’ll be onto her next plan by morning.”
Lunelle stroked the fine silver threads woven into his tunic. She’d wondered so many times what they would feel like without the sting of guilt clouding them.
“I should check on her?—”
“Lunelle,”
Mirquios disrupted her panic.
“She’s in good hands with the commander.”
“You’re right,”
she breathed, her lungs expanding in jittery waves.
“Perhaps too good of hands.”
“Luxuros did not seem ready to have that conversation,”
Mirquios laughed.
Lunelle wasn’t a child. She knew what came next—she’d stood in this strange sea of tension for so long, waiting for the pressure to drop and the storm to move inland. They’d held themselves back from one another for months, and there was something comforting in always having that line drawn between them.
Now, the possibilities were wide open—hers to take.
“I don’t expect anything, Lunelle. I know things are still complicated with the prince, and I would never risk your safety for that.”
The king leaned back from her touch, reading the hesitation on her face.
“You could give Astra a run for her money,”
she laughed.
“I also understand that your feelings for him aren’t easily explained.”
“That’s generous, Mirquios.”
He held her hands in his. She enjoyed the pleasant warmth to his touch. She’d been able to tell, of course, standing near him and the brief moments they’d toed the line that she was much cooler than he, but it was always so rushed—so panicked—she never got to marvel in their differences.
“I would wait a thousand lifetimes if you needed me to,”
he whispered, squeezing her pale hands, so small in his.
It was that admission that made her realize she couldn’t wait a thousand lifetimes for him.
Lunelle pushed herself forward, wrapping her arms around his strong neck and hanging from him as she moved her mouth over his. The shock melted within a second of tasting him—even sweeter than she’d remembered from the cliffs.
The way his lips moved against hers did something sacred to her heart.
He tangled his hand into her braided crown, the silk strands smooth against his calloused fingertips. She told herself it was just a kiss—to not get ahead of herself—but then a quiet moan spun at the back of his throat and any thought of restraint dissolved.
He pulled away from her, though everything in their bodies begged for less space, at a squeak at the top of the basement steps.
Maeve cleared her throat.
“Don’t you have a palace, Your Highness?”
she asked.