Page 25 of Rift


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Mirquios watched her from the grass line, delighted in the way she glided into the surf. He stepped forward, drawing in a deep breath. “May I be forward with you, Astra?”

She stopped skipping over the rolling waves and turned, her silk skirt folding in the tide around her ankles. “Of course.” Her blood twisted like the currents below as he spoke, eyes fixed on the shoreline.

“We’ve heard rumors in Mercury that a certain Fire Queen has a much more progressive outlook on the world than her contemporaries.”

Astra chuckled, folding her arms around herself. “That’s a kind way to say it. My mother thinks me a foolish dreamer.”

“The powers that be always do. I think we might have similar dreams, Astra.” Mirquios stopped pacing. “I heard about a restoration project you helped fund. Celene?”

Her eyes widened. “You’ve heard of Celene?” The confusion tangled in her throat. They’d done so much work to keep Celene quiet and protect its fragile ecosystem, if the Mercurians knew about it, who else did?

“Only whispers,” he assured her. “I believe there is a woman there who left a Mercurian village to seek refuge from her husband. Alana?—”

“I know her,” Astra said quickly, the young woman’s face so clear in her mind. She’d arrived half-starved, with deep purple bruises around her neck.

“She sent word back to her sisters, one of whom is friendly with a member of my court. When she heard of the project, she told me. We’ve been discussing Mercury’s future for a long time, and the court system. When we heard a Lunar princess was proving the concept… even without your mother’s invitation, I would have sought you out for your advice.”

Astra shook her head, hardly hearing him. “Do your courtiers know what you’re considering?”

“Only a select few. As you can imagine, there would be outrage and counter-movements. The establishment will not distribute power easily.”

“Of course,” she rolled her eyes. She’d seen her own mother’s resistance time and time again. “Gods forbid they get placed in the same category as someone whose hands aren’t pristine.”

“They’d revolt. This will be a bloody business. It’s a delicate matter that requires careful planning, but Celene is proof that community living can work. Perhaps you could take me to visit?—”

“No.” She sucked a breath in through her teeth, her bones screaming to protect her family. “I’m so sorry. It’s not personal. Most of the women in Celene are survivors of unspeakable atrocities at the hands of men. You understand?”

“Of course,” he sighed. “I should have realized.”

Astra bit her lip, willing the scarlet urge to defend them into submission. He was not an enemy. He was curious.

“Some of the leadership would be willing to speak with you, we could perhaps meet in Ellume or one of the Middle Villages.”

“That would be incredible. I’m sure I don’t even need to say this, but please, keep this between us. If the Mercurian courtiers caught wind…” Mirquios shivered, unwilling to even imagine the consequences.

“Understood,” Astra agreed. A roar of screams rose over the beach, Lunelle’s silhouette hoisting a mallet over her head. She was but a blur of silver from this distance, but Astra knew what a Lunelle victory sounded like.

“Your sister…”

“My sister?”

“She’ll be taking the throne in the Winter. Is she of a similar mind to ours?”

Astra twisted her fingers into her skirt. “I’m not certain. I think so. I want to believe so. But my mother has been molding her mind for three and a half decades. It’s hard to say.”

“Perhaps we could bring her into the fold eventually, too.”

“Maybe,” she whispered. “Don’t laugh, but before we head back, I need to make my offering to the sea.”

Mirquios tilted his head to the side. “Why would I laugh?” He reached into his pocket and produced a thin gold chain. “I find it a charming notion. What’s the protocol here? Do we just throw them? Is there an incantation?”

Astra giggled, fishing around in her pocket for the small velvet offering bag she’d filled with aventurine stones from the gown he’d gifted her. Somewhere between breakfast with Lunelle and dinner, she’d felt a longing within her she knew meant she needed to at least consider her plan for the king, and all this talk of transferring power was only making the yearning worse.

It wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t Fate, but it was appealing.

“You make your plea to the sea goddesses in your mind, and then toss it into the ocean as far as you can.”

“Ladies first, then,” he said, turning toward the vast expanse of the Empyrean Sea, stars slipping under the horizon as the night drifted on. Astra stepped forward, the layers of her dress swirling around her ankles like a silk jellyfish. She closed her eyes and drew in a salty breath. The loose thoughts in the back of her mind crystallized into a vision she could no longer ignore. Mirquios was kind, he understood her vision, and he certainly wasn’t difficult to look at.