“Mmm.”
“There’s a Lunar stall in the Mercurian Bazaar that sells it. They have the most splendid little bottles, with crystals on the corks!”
“Sure.” Astra shoved a thick moonstone door open with her hip, revealing a damp staircase. “Down we go.”
The king’s eyes flickered between her face and the stairs. “After you, my lady.”
Astra huffed, happy to escape to the cooler underground of the palace. She took the steps two at a time, sweeping her black skirts behind her. Mirquios missed the final step, lurching forward, his hands landing on her hips to steady himself. He attempted to yank them away, but a finger caught in the delicate chain around her waist, between a metallic star and Moon charm. She yelped as the weight of him pushed the sharp tip of the star into her flesh.
“Sorry,” he sighed.
Astra spun and faced him, eye to eye with his surprised stare. The cellar air chilled her bones, the heat from his chest suddenly much more appealing. He was handsome, by all accounts. She’d done much more interesting things with much less interesting people.
Perhaps it had been a case of the first kiss jitters.
Her silk slippers ground against the frigid stone floor as she pushed onto her toes. His arms closed around her waist in a halo of warmth, pulling her against him. Their lips brushed tentatively, both afraid to repeat last night’s failure.
His fingers wrapped around the side of her neck, applying pressure just below her ear. Her hand wandered the vast plane of his chest, pressing into his shoulder, searching for something to hold on to.
A subtle flicker of rosy pink, so slight she almost missed it, came to life between them but disappeared. Astra gave up.
“What is wrong with us?” she cried, clasping her hands together in frustration.
“Oh, thank the gods,” Mirquios gasped, backing away from her. “I was so worried it was just me.”
“Certainly not,” Astra muttered.
“I did not mean?—”
“I know! I know,” she said, waving her hands to silence them both. She leaned against the clammy wall, letting the cold stone soothe her temper. “Mother above, I really thought it was just a one-off.”
“Listen, I was doing some of my best work just now. Women usually love the neck thing!”
“I believe you! Fuck,” she hissed, the expletive catching him off guard. “This really ruins my plan.”
“Plan?”
Astra shook her head. “Um. No plan.”
“Princess—”
“Mother, spare me. This is so humbling.” She slinked around the corner, the narrow passage opening into a massive cellar filled with barrels upon barrels of moonshine. Mirquios followed, propping himself up on one of them. She let her body fall to the floor in a heap against the wall. “My mother is trying to marry me off.”
“Yes,” Mirquios said, confused by her confusion.
“To the Martian prince,” she sighed.
His lips twisted. “The boy? Would he know the first thing to do with you?”
She glared, the implication that he had any more luck with her irritating.
“That’s why I’ve basically thrown myself at you.” She blushed as she confessed to him. “I thought that if you and I could make a good match, if we saw the world the same way… well. There are worse Fates, surely.”
The king straightened his back, his lips twitching into a smile as he laughed. “Is that a proposal, Princess?”
Astra rolled her eyes. “My mother will never allow me to go back to Celene and I can’t do enough from here to further the cause. But she knows war is coming and she needs alliances. I think that’s why she’s so set on Omnir.”
Mirquios considered that for a moment, his bright eyes sweeping over her. “Mars is no place for a mind like yours, Astra.”
