“I do not deserve a sister like you,” she whispered against Astra’s neck. Over her shoulder, Mirquios nodded from the corner, a faint smile bubbling up over his lips, but his eyes flashed to Lux and Lux alone.
“What does she want you to retrieve?”
Astra pressed her lips together. “Leona.”
Lunelle’s brows folded inward. “As?—”
“I know it sounds crazy! But she wants to make amends. Leona has never Ascended. Selenia believes that there’s been a misunderstanding.” She felt the heat of Lux’s eyes land on her shoulders.
“She can do it,” Mirquios said mostly for his brother’s benefit. “If anyone can do it, it’s Astra.”
Lux did not respond.
“And there’s no catch? You bring her Leona’s Soul and she’ll leave it at that?” Ameera asked. Lunelle leaned back on her heels, tears still spilling over from her eyes.
“There’s always a catch,” Astra sighed. “I just haven’t figured it out yet. But until then, I have her word. She’s going to crash your Trial Ball and announce it.”
“Oh, Mother is going to hate that.” Lunelle stifled a nervous giggle.
Astra grinned. “A big part of the appeal for me, if I’m being honest. Now, if you all don’t mind, this crown is becoming a permanent part of my skull and I am drunk on the wine of the gods. I desperately need to get home.”
“Of course. We can talk more tomorrow,” Lunelle said as she crossed the room and placed a hand on Mirquios’s shoulder, their eyes holding the gaze of infinite possibility once again.
“I’ll have breakfast sent up to your room,” Ameera said softly. Her eyes slid from Astra to Lux, sending a flush to her cheeks.
One tray or two?
Astra fought the urge to shrug. Your guess is as good as mine, she sent back.
Ameera patted Astra’s shoulder. Before leaving the library, she hugged her sister once more, the joy radiating from Lunelle’s chest worth anything that might happen in the Court Below.
“Thank you,” Mirquios said as Astra left, his eyes still fixed on Lux. “Will you make sure Astra makes it back to her chambers safely, Commander? I’d rather she not enter the Rift alone, after tonight.” Lux’s head snapped toward his king, his answer in the form of a shallow nod.
Luxuros followed her in silence, his hand lightly skimming the back of her dress, a twisted knot of fury working itself out into a straight line in his gut.
It wasn’t until they made it back to her dressing room that he spoke. She reached for the crown of stars when his hands stopped hers.
“Let me,” he whispered.
She dropped her head as she leaned against the vanity. He took his time untangling the delicate metal and mess of curls with the utmost care. A satisfying burn sizzled against her scalp when he finally freed it.
Lux set the crown on the crystal countertop, stars reflecting in the white quartz as his fingers moved to the braids in her hair. He loosened each of them, letting his hands rake through her ruby curls as they sprang free, brushing against her shoulders. Before he moved from behind her, he reached for a crescent pin on her vanity and twisted her hair off her neck, the way he’d seen her do a million times in the gardens as they’d worked in the late Summer heat.
With her hair neatly tucked away, he slipped the silk straps over her shoulders and let the dress fall to the floor. Astra was relieved to find she still had underpinnings on, she’d never learned who dressed her in the Court Above.
“Get in,” Lux said as he dragged the ivory lace off her body, tilting his head toward the simmering pool beyond the arch in the wall. She was about to ask if he’d join when his fingers went to work on the buttons and laces of his leathers, his boots falling next to the pile of silk her dress became.
She slipped into the pool and leaned her head back against the tile floor. The water was perfectly warm, exactly what she needed. Her eyes drifted closed as Lux joined, the water heating as he crossed the pool and sat beside her.
The fog Alastair had placed around her mind still lingered, turning her to clay in Lux’s rigid hands as he pushed his fingers into the muscles beneath her neck. He placed a quick kiss at the top of her spine before moving lower, digging into the sore tissue between her shoulders.
She leaned back into him, letting her head fall against his shoulder, his lips resting gently against her neck.
“You’re so quiet,” she said.
“There was a time when you would have preferred I keep my opinions to myself,” he murmured into her skin, working his fingers into her lower back.
“Not when I can feel how distressed you are,” she returned.
