Chapter 32 Astraea
Astraea
I stood in front of the reigning lord of east Astrinus, and I’d have the heat of retribution in my stare if he kept me away from Nyte much longer.
After we’d been escorted here, with several guards having to carry Nyte, they’d listened to my demand that he be made comfortable and a healer be fetched.
Then I’d been summoned before this man with long white hair merging with his beard.
His wrinkled skin flexed, and his worn hand massaged his cheek occasionally as he studied me like I was an artifact.
“I must say I never thought my years would stretch long enough to see the star-maiden in all your stunning glory.”
The compliment flushed through me, dissolving some of my hostility with his touchingly gentle tone, which croaked with the impressive years he’d sustained himself as a human.
“Why did you want us to come here?” I demanded.
“I had to see the world’s first and only fallen star, of course.”
“Is that all?”
Finally, a cautious shift in his gray eyes firmed my guard again.
“I won’t insult you, Astraea; I know you’re aware of the realm’s nightmare you keep in your company. I will be honest and admit my people would heal an old wound by seeing him publicly slain on the lands he defiled.”
My magick rushed over me in an instant, prickling the edges of my vision with stardust. Lightsdeath was one reach away from irrepressible things should this lord think to order Nyte’s execution.
“If a single hand lands on him in malice, I will sever it from the body that strikes,” I warned.
The old man’s chin lifted with the threat. “From your legends, you were not one to act out in violence. You are our goddess of justice and peace.”
“Then hear me when I say your vengeance is not for Rainyte, it is for his father, who’ll you’ll learn is a common enemy if you will listen to us. Hear our tale and be our allies.”
This hadn’t been what we’d come for, but this could become an unforeseen opportunity to rally more forces against the gods and Nyte’s father when the time came.
“You want me to declare Nightsdeath an ally? You insult me and everyone in this kingdom,” Viscarus seethed, the first slip of his outrage, which seemed so much more unpleasant on his kind, weathered face.
“His name is Rainyte. And I am asking you to trust me as your Maiden. That my judgment is not corrupt, though the High Celestials have tried to make you believe so. Rainyte is not your enemy.”
“Your pretty words hold no weight, Maiden. You were gone a long time, taken back by your gods after you failed your duty once. And as I hear, you have slain Auster Nova.”
I stiffened. I’d hoped word of his death by my hand hadn’t reached this far yet.
“He killed me first,” I said.
Viscarus’s head titled. His elbows propped on the arms of his deep green cushioned chair and his hands clasped. In his silence, he pondered his judgment of me.
The tension grew too much for me. “What can we do to prove ourselves to you?”
That made his posture lock straighter and I realized this is what he wanted. The reigning lord hadn’t taken us in just for trespassing in his territory or to have his retribution against Nyte. There was something he thought we could do for him.
“Once Nights—”
“Rainyte.”
Viscarus’s eyes flexed. “Once Rainyte is healed enough, I will summon you both again. Judgment will be carried out.”
We both knew that if we desired, there was little that could truly hold me and Nyte to this keep. But we needed allies and my mission was to heal the distrust and divide that had been left to crack too deeply through these lands.
I bowed my head in respect to him. “I look forward to seeing you again and helping in whatever way we can. Thank you for your hospitality in the meantime.”
He lifted his brows, surprised by my grace, but he gave me a nod back before asking his guards to escort me to Nyte’s room.
Amity settled for only a second before I turned around.
Drystan strolled in, escorting a man who appeared drunk, who was leaning on Drystan for support. I’d never seen his company before, but something about Drystan’s dark smile made my nerves stand on edge.
“What have you done to my son?” Viscarus bellowed.
Shit. That declaration came close to shattering the fragile peace I’d just gained with the lord for now.
“He’s fine,” Drystan drawled. When they stopped walking halfway across the hall, Drystan lifted his thumb to the corner of his mouth, wiping a trickle of blood. Then I saw the raw puncture wounds on the disheveled, pulled down collar of Viscarus’s son.
What the hell have you done, Drystan?
I didn’t voice my irritation and outrage because so much steel chimed through the air. Every guard made a target not just of Drystan, but once again I became a hostile source.
Drystan said, “I heard Lionel here boasting of the capture of Nightsdeath and the star-maiden. Foolish for your heir to flaunt such things in public.”
“Release him,” Viscarus demanded.
“As you can see, I’m not holding him.” It was true. Drystan even tried to gain distance but Lionel hung sleepily onto his side. “Did you know the bite of a blood vampire has a certain aphrodisiac quality? Believe it or not, your son begged for it. However—”
Tension shot high with how fast Drystan moved, holding Lionel from behind with the man’s neck inclined to the side. Drystan bared his fangs, a threat that he could rip out Lionel’s throat in a heartbeat or drain him dry before anyone could stop him.
“I’ll ask once for you to release my brother before I kill him.”
I was about to reprimand Drystan and try to salvage this situation, but a stunning red-haired woman glided in through the doors behind him. Her fiery hair touched the billowing blue waves of the material of her gown.
“My brother has always had a curious nature and overindulgent palate,” she said, her voice a cool melody that calmed the room.
Her sight slipped over Lionel only for a second before she gave me her attention as she passed. There was a certain serenity in her presence. Though she gave away little emotion, I didn’t detect any ill will.
“Leave us,” she ordered the room. Immediately the guards exited, and I watched her with more fascination.
“This is my heir, Gweneth,” Viscarus introduced.
I dipped my head to her. “My name is—”
“Astraea Lightborne. The star-maiden.”
I nodded.
Gweneth studied me for a moment, and I didn’t know why her assessment made me shift my weight between my legs.
“You’re a little smaller than I imagined.”
I couldn’t help but huff a laugh, glad for some of the thickening tension Drystan had brought to be dissolved. In my defense, Gweneth was very tall for a woman.
She turned her attention to her father. “Show them. There’s no reason to keep our request a secret until Rainyte wakes.”
Viscarus’s expression softened for his daughter, and that exchange made me believe that Gweneth wasn’t waiting for her father’s death to assume her duty as reigning lady of east Astrinus; she had been slowly filling that role for many years as her father aged.
But there was something else which burdened them, and I knew it was going to be shared with me, with us, as they believed we might be able to help.
“You have no reason to trust me, and even less to trust Nyte and Drystan. But I give you my word that I’ll offer whatever we can to help. There can’t be trust without taking a leap of good faith,” I said.
Viscarus only looked at me briefly, then nodded his agreement to Gweneth.
“Follow me, Maiden,” she said. As we headed out, she addressed Drystan as she passed him. “You can either take my brother to bed, as he seems to need rest after his night of indulgence, or come with us.”
Drystan let go of Lionel to hook my arm. “This could be a trap,” he hissed low to me.
“Trust works both ways,” I said. “You’ve done enough damage to shake that, so you’re coming with me.”
Grabbing his forearm, I dragged him along after Gweneth.
“Where’s Nyte?” Drystan asked, his tone irritable as he tried not to be overheard.
But Gweneth answered before I could. “Our healers are tending to him. He might not wake until morning.”
“I want to see him,” Drystan demanded.
“First, you’ll see why my father hasn’t ordered him chained and tortured instead. Make no mistake, you and your brother are enemies of this kingdom, but sometimes even the deepest hate has to be set aside for those we love.”
We were treading dangerous ground.
“What you think we can do for you requires Nyte’s mind ability, doesn’t it?” I concluded.
They could have held him in the dungeons and refused to get him healer help if it were my magick they sought to use.
“Yes,” Gweneth answered.
We were approached by servants, and I accepted the thick winter coat offered to me. Drystan declined, retaining his sour expression, which I rolled my eyes at.
Outside, my first breath of the crisp air was stolen by the snow-capped mountains glistening under the pale moonlight, their towering peaks crowned with frost that shimmered.
Astrinus was magnificent, and now I had a moment to bask in its beauty.
Between the jagged mountain heights, pockets of life thrived—a tapestry of gentle beauty woven into the harsh landscape.
Small villages dotted through the snow-dusted ridges, their warm lights flickering against the cold.
It felt as though the mountains themselves had chosen to cradle these sanctuaries, shielding them from the rest of the world. In this secret realm of stone and snow, life blossomed quietly, resilient yet impossibly tender, as if daring the heavens to notice.
I became more antsy the longer we followed Gweneth away from the keep. Glancing back, I tried to measure time in case I had fallen into a trap and had to make it back to Nyte if he were in trouble.
“I should have stayed at the keep,” Drystan said after I looked over my shoulder for the third time.
I was beginning to agree with him.
Around the next street corner, my pace slowed after I saw the large building we were heading toward.
I’d seen depictions of a place similar to this in books and conjured my own images through words alone from the vivid minds of authors.
But this place … it was so sad. A long abandoned hall that once would have welcomed all walks of life into its gallery to witness performances upon its grand stage.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, growing uneasy now.
“Don’t waver your trust now,” Gweneth said with a note of amusement that was lost on me. She walked a few paces ahead.
“This isn’t a good idea,” Drystan said to me.
“You should stay outside,” I said.
His lips pursed together as he weighed whether he should immediately help us to fight if we were ambushed inside or if it would be more of an advantage to get aid if he detected foul play from outside, assuming he could escape.
“I can’t hear your thoughts and feelings like I can hear Nyte’s, so scream particularly loud if you need me,” he grumbled, crossing his arms and scanning around for any hint of threat.
The eerie creak of the door we entered crawled over my skin.
The ominous stillness that held me upon passing the threshold was a cold ghost of the joy that once brightened this place.
A dark passage opened up into a grand hall with two levels.
I’d been in a theatre like this before—it’s where Davina had once held one of her fae resistance meetings in Vesitire. That one had been long neglected too.
An ache built in my soul for what the loss of these venues represented. A world that had been so upturned by war and greed that the time, or perhaps the passion, to enjoy such performances as would be held in these halls ceased to exist.
We weren’t alone here. Gweneth stopped past the first couple of rows of torn, dusty velvet seats, and I found what—who—held her attention.
A woman with long gray hair was upon the stage. Noise came from the towers of discarded instruments she searched through as she muttered quietly to herself.
“My mother. I am named after her.”
Gweneth didn’t approach her mother. We stood there merely observing, and then I started to notice her strange behavior. The elderly woman appeared so lost but energized. She moved around the stage, occasionally stopping to smile and bow as if her own audience existed in her mind.
“She is ill?” I asked carefully.
“A sickness of the mind. No mage or healer can help her. She doesn’t remember us most days, and every evening she comes here, reluctant to leave, but father comes for her by bedtime.”
My heart cracked for this family. How terrible it would be to have a loved one not remember who they are.
“What happened to this place?” I asked, barely a whisper in this space that felt sacred.
“It was destroyed and abandoned long before my father became the reigning lord. But my mother used to perform with a traveling circus. She wanted to restore this place one day but there was so much else to rebuild that it stayed a dream for too long. Then her illness came on fast. We’ve tried all we could to help her for ten years. ”
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
Gweneth tore her eyes away from her mother to look at me and I felt her sorrow. “Do you think Rainyte could help her?”
I swallowed because hope felt like too fragile a token to give.
“I really hope he can. And one thing is certain—I know he’ll try to the very best of his ability.”
She smiled, believing me, believing in Nyte despite the scars he left behind on these lands.
“There’s a reason you’re our Goddess of Justice, Astraea.
Our star-maiden. People say you fell for a monster, but you were simply the first to have an open mind and the patience to hear his story.
Too often people judge harshly from what they hear and close their eyes to anything that might shed a light on what they’ve condemned to the dark. ”
Pride and relief swelled in me. Every new ally we gained brought us closer to the world Nyte and I dreamed of together.
My hand hovered over my wound where Nyte’s blood was spreading slowly.
The ache was dull, but every now and then it would emit a sting like a warning, a cruel taunt never letting me forget my days were numbered.
I didn’t know if I would get to see the future I wanted to build with Nyte, but I wouldn’t stop fighting and living as though I might.