Chapter 15 Esther #2
“I know, I know.” Luna flopped backward dramatically on the mattress, limbs strewn like an exhausted cat.
“You’re too scared and too adorable, and now I feel like a villain.”
Esther sniffed, trying and failing to regain composure. “Then why? Why do it?”
Luna stared at the ceiling, then sighed. “Because I know who you are.”
Esther’s blood turned to ice. Her typically reactive magic went eerily still.
Esther had lived her entire life under the assumption that anonymity was protection. That if she could just pass as ordinary, she could survive. The idea that someone had seen through her anyway—had known and waited—sent a tremor through her bones.
“What?” she whispered.
“I know you’re the princess. And that you’ve run away from home.”
The title felt heavier than it ever had in the palace. There, it had been armor. Here, it was exposure. A spotlight she had not consented to step into.
Luna said it like it was small talk at a tea party—as if it were a simple, inconsequential matter.
“What do you mean?” Esther rasped.
“I didn’t drug you!” Luna sat up, raising her hands in surrender. “I just lied about the truth potion to see if you’d confess.”
“The other part.”
Luna hesitated only a second. “You ran away from home?”
“The princess part!” Esther exploded, practically levitating upright. She nearly headbutted Luna in the process. Her heart roared in her ears like the stomping march of guards.
“Shh!” Luna slapped a hand gently over her mouth. “Do you want the whole town to hear?”
“The princess part,” Esther repeated through the muffling hand, determined.
Luna sighed. “Princess Esther Valedara.”
Esther stared, wide-eyed, waiting for Luna to elaborate. But she did not. Esther got the sense that Luna liked watching people squirm—like Lucy did. She loved Lucy, but she really didn’t need a second one in her life.
“How do you know?” Esther squeaked after Luna removed her hand.
“Simple.” Luna shrugged. “I co-own the Information Guild. I have contacts everywhere.”
“Even in the castle?”
“Especially in the castle.”
Esther’s stomach twisted. The castle—the cold palace where servants spoke in whispers, where her father’s paranoia hollowed the halls—had spies.
She felt violated. And also… impressed? She wasn’t sure.
Esther had always trusted first and questioned later.
Trust had been the only rebellion available to her as a child. If she could not choose her life, she could at least choose to believe people meant well. It had kept her gentle. It had also made her vulnerable.
It was the opposite of how guards and soldiers survived. The opposite of how Nythir moved through the world, all sharp edges and quiet calculations. She wondered, not for the first time, if that was why she felt safer around him.
He noticed danger before it touched her.
She noticed it only once it had already settled into her bones.
“When will the guards arrive?” she asked, wiping away tears. She hoped she could at least say goodbye to her traveling companions she was already deeply attached to.
She should have known that freedom and love could not last. She couldn’t escape her fate.
“Never, as long as I’m around.” Luna preened, then leaned in and kissed Esther’s forehead like a proud aunt.
Her magic didn’t calm completely.
Something else stirred beneath the fear—an unfamiliar ache that felt like being seen and almost lost at the same time. Her magic hovered, restless, waiting for a familiar presence to anchor it.
It hovered beneath her skin, restless and searching, like it was waiting for something familiar to answer it. Esther wiped her eyes, breath unsteady, and wondered why the fear hadn’t fully retaken hold.
Then the door exploded inward.
“You damn succubus!”
Nythir’s voice hit first. Then his entire body tackled Luna off the bed. They crashed to the wooden floor with a thud that rattled the windowpanes.
Luna yanked his hair. “Don’t be speciest! I’m only a quarter succubus!”
“I don’t care what you are!” He headbutted her, and Esther cringed at the echo it made.
“Hasn’t your mother ever told you not to hit a lady?” Luna kneed him in the stomach.
He wheezed. “You’re not a lady. You’re a bitch.”
Esther sat frozen on the bed, clutching her stained blanket like a lifeline.
The painting-perfect duo from before now rolled around like two alley cats fighting over a fish bone. Their hair was wild, noses bloodied, and insults flew like arrows.
Most importantly… they were definitely not flirting.
Relief bubbled up in her chest, warm and unexpected. She found herself smiling. Luna wasn’t a rival. She was… something else. Complicated, dangerous, unpredictable—but not competition. Still, maybe an enemy. That part remained up for debate.
Nythir finally pinned Luna’s wrists to the floor, face flushed, breathing hard.
“Explain yourself!” he snarled.
Luna smirked up at him. “You’re bleeding. It’s a good color on you.”
“Oh my saints,” Esther blurted. “Both of you stop! You are bleeding on my clean floor!”
Both froze.
Both looked at her.
Both immediately resumed arguing about whose fault the blood was.
Esther dropped her face into her pillow and groaned. This was her life now. And unfortunately, the pillow muffled, but did not hide her final, exasperated scream:
“I wasn’t even awake for fifteen minutes!”