Those same hands from earlier appeared again, this time more clear, without the pressure of an audience. Foreign runes and markings crawled over his cuffs, invisible earlier, but she could make them out in the stillness. She reached for her pack, finding a piece of charcoal and her notebook so she could sketch the lines for Ameera to research later.
Where are you? Lunelle’s voice disrupted her, the hands flickering away. She tossed the cloth back over the orb and opened her eyes, a searing warmth still prickling at her back even as she pushed it into her bag.
The woods, what’s wrong?
Mother is looking for you, Lunelle sent back.
Buy me fifteen minutes, she beamed, something in her stomach turning as the heat refused to break. She glanced at the edge of the meadow, suspicious that she wasn’t as alone as she’d hoped.
There. Across the meadow, a scarlet flare in someone’s chest as they raced between trees.
“Shit,” she muttered, springing to her feet. She flung the bag over her shoulder and bolted for the mare, shoving her boot into the stirrup and hauling herself over her saddle in record time. “Shit,” she whispered again, realizing she was still tethered to the tree. Against her better judgment, she let the panic push a rush of flame to her fingers, allowing the sparks to burnish against the leather of the lead and sever the tie as she dug her heels into the horse’s side.
She’d deal with any witnesses later if need be.
That damned heat was still there, though the scarlet mist was no longer traceable to her alert intuition. Every gallop back allowed her to catch her breath, the sear fading as she put space between whoever had been watching. Nervous energy jolted through her in plumes of orange, red, and yellow. Whether it originated in her chest or the chest she’d nearly spotted in the Midwood, she wasn’t sure.
Ameera stood waiting for her in the gardens as she dismounted, shoving what was left of the crisped lead into Ameera’s hands. Her eyes creased, unhappy with the state of Astra’s attire and demeanor as she rushed to right herself.
“Your mother?—”
“Yes, yes, I’ve already been informed,” Astra tapped her forehead, rolling her eyes.
“I forgot how hard managing you was,” Ameera huffed.
Astra laughed darkly. “I’d be happy to relieve you of your duty, but alas. I’m staying.”
“Why is this so heavy?” Ameera asked as she picked up Astra’s pack. “Gods above, Astra, if there’s a severed head in here?—”
“If there was, wouldn’t you be at least a little proud?”
“As!”
Astra ran her fingers through her hair, loosening her curls from the braid she’d kept it in. She needed to feel less restricted if she was going to face her mother again so soon.
“It’s the orb from earlier. My notebook is in there as well. I traced some runes from the owner’s cuffs. They’re completely unfamiliar to me, but perhaps you might recognize them?”
Ameera nodded, absorbing what she said and cataloging everything in her library of a mind. “Your mother is in her study.”
Astra squeezed her eyes shut, preparing herself for another round of Astra versus Oestera. The last time they’d faced off, it ended in Celene. But this time, she was older, a more seasoned leader. She’d cut her teeth in the city and she’d learned so much more restraint than she’d had three Summers ago.
She burned her way out of her maidenhood the moment she’d seen Celene’s neglected shores and the dilapidated villages across the court. Her mother may not make time for them, but she’d spent every moment of her exile listening and learning about their needs, and solving their problems alongside them. Her mother may not see it right away, but she wasn’t the girl who left Lunaria.
An amber sense of power bubbled to life in her chest as she wove her way through the halls. Surely, Oestera would see her growth and hear her out.
She had to.
“Princess,” a maiden outside of Oestera’s personal study nodded as Astra approached under the crystal arch framing her parents’ wing of the palace. Her gleaming eyes fell to Astra’s fingers, still warm from her escape in the Midwood.
The shame was violent as it crashed over Astra.
She set her shoulders back and flashed a saccharine smile as she wiggled her fingers between them.
“No theatrics. Promise.” A ripple of yellow uncertainty flared in the maiden’s ribs as her gaze dropped to the floor beside them, landing on a metallic cistern at her feet.
Astra scoffed. “Misty Mother above,” she muttered. “Is that… is that in case I set something on fire?”
The maiden’s eyes searched frantically for a better answer, but it was too late. The scattered colors in her lungs gave her away. Astra pushed past her, determined to keep her composure, but she couldn’t resist kicking the cistern over as she entered her mother’s study.
