“Alura,” Astra repeated her name, a blush crawling over the girl’s face. The muscles in her back tightened as she exchanged a look with Cam. “Well. I do not think it’s fair to the brave people who lost their lives in The Flare to say I survived it. I was still in my mother’s womb, unaware of the Solar King’s cruel attack or the pain those who did survive endure, even to this day.”
She blinked a vision away of the burn scars across her mother’s chest, always obscured by robes and high-necked gowns, but they were a presence in her life from even her earliest memories. Though, Astra knew the physical scars were nothing compared to the emotional damage inflicted on her mother—not that she’d ever allow either to show.
She took another breath, digging deep within herself to be the leader she strived to be, despite wishing she could dissolve into the air and escape this topic entirely.
“What other questions can I answer? Get them out now, ladies.”
Another tiny voice spoke up. “Is that why your hair is red?”
Cam barked a laugh beside her. The innocence of the question hit the release valve they desperately needed. Astra laid a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder.
“I’ll tell you the truth—I’m not certain. Bloodlines can be finicky things, girls.” She winked at them, grateful they could leave this conversation on a lighter note.
Cam pushed her shoulders back into an intimidating stance. “Now, if I go check the gardens right now, will today’s chores be done?” A chorus of nervous giggles sent the girls running toward the temple beyond the bridge, moving in one fluid mass of pastel braids and silver robes.
Astra raised her eyebrows at Cam, who exhaled with a soft chuckle. They continued their trek into the city, the weight of the scroll in Astra’s arms growing with each step. Cam bumped her hip into Astra’s.
“I heard your hair is red because you fucked Mars in a past life.”
Astra’s jaw dropped as she snorted and shoved her shoulder. “The gossip in this city is a rapidly spreading blight! You should do something about that, you know.”
“Ah! She does not deny it!”
Astra pursed her lips, a wicked smirk unfolding. “You act like you’d pass if the God of War propositioned you.”
“A man? Please,” Cam scoffed. “Venus, however...”
They entered the tower at the very edge of the city, pale moonstone floors bouncing light back at them. Cam set Astra’s things on the abandoned desk at the front of the small library they frequented in the mornings. She knew Astra preferred to stay tucked away into the corner of her tower over the busy three-story collection of books in Celene’s center—here she could breathe easier, away from the constant waves of vivid color that plagued her strange senses with each fleeting feeling in her vicinity.
“Why do you think they were talking about The Flare?” Astra asked as Cam sank behind a table she’d worked at late into the night, an aged map of a Neptunian city sprawled across the polished oak. She shifted one of the quartz markers she used to plot the city’s ports—a hobby she’d inherited from her mother’s fascination with the Outer Courts.
“Same reason you aren’t talking about it,” Cam said, glancing up between crystals. “Next week is the gauntlet for you—isn’t it?”
Astra laughed at her phrasing, but as always, Cam was spot on. The Summer Solstice used to be a time of celebration, with week-long festivals and tributes to gods of the Court Above. Things were more somber now, thirty years after the Solar King killed the Lunar Queen and attacked the Inner Courts with a lethal light. The Flare left deep scars on the Lunar Court and her allied human courts, claiming thousands of lives.
Now, the Summer Solstice was a solemn reminder of the bloodshed, marked by temple ceremonies and memorials.
“You know what I never understood?” Astra said, tossing the scroll onto the table. “Why was my mother even in the Solar Court at all that day? She was living in the Earthen Court by then.”
“You… could ask her?” Cam eyed the scroll, treading lightly into the territory of Astra’s complex relationship with her mother. The arch of Astra’s brow was all the answer she needed. “I think you’ve avoided opening it long enough.”
Her shoulders collapsed. Cam was right once again. She plopped into one of the plush armchairs and unfurled the note.
It was simple. No flowery prose or birthday felicitations. Just a single line.
I need to speak with you.
A looped “O” punctuated the note, filling Astra with a heat she rarely allowed herself to feel. No ignoring it then.
“The queen herself, hmm?” Cam leaned over her, scanning the note before Astra could tame the smoke rising to her lungs. “Should I have Riverion readied?”
“I suppose.” Astra folded the note and slipped it between the leather cover of her book and its fading pages. “But take your time. I’m in no rush.” Cam leaned out of the library door, catching someone’s attention.
What Astra wished she could say was take all night—all week—but how long would the queen wait? She brushed her hands against the pale lavender silk of her robes, desperate for something to incinerate.
How long had it been? She chewed on her thumb as she thought back to the last holiday she’d celebrated within the pristine walls of the palace. Was it the Winter Solstice ball she’d been thrown out of? Or was that an Equinox feast?
She’d been wearing a red dress. She remembered that much. Autumnal, most likely.
