I didn’t mean to. I attacked him, but I don’t think he was trying to hurt me. He was… he was watching two other Solarians in the Midwood. He knew I wasn’t really there. It was all very confusing. Astra glanced over her shoulder as Mirquios’s calming presence entered the garden at the far end.
This is not good, Astra.
She nodded as she reached for another glass of moonshine. Ehlaria met me there. She said I called out to her. She said they’ve been suspicious of the Rift as well, that they feel the rumblings of war. She gave me that book.
Ameera sighed. We can talk about this later, but Archera needs to be notified.
Of course, let her know. They were near that clearing we like in the Midwood.
“Good evening, ladies,” Mirquios grinned, kissing the top of Astra’s hand. There was no spark at his touch, but there was something like comfort in his easy warmth after she’d suffocated in the Solarian’s grasp. “Might I borrow my fiancée for a dance?”
Astra nodded, hoping to silence the panic clawing at her throat. She let the king lead her to the center of the garden, a soft melody striking up as they took their place. The garden quieted, all eyes falling on the couple beneath the soft glow of lanterns and stars, twirling softly in the Summer breeze.
“You’re quiet this evening,” Mirquios said, leading Astra this time, for which she was grateful.
“Am I?” she asked, forcing a smile. She could tell it didn’t do enough to soothe him. She’d missed the first course of dinner, distracted by her own spiraling thoughts, something her mother was quick to point out. Astra spent most of the dessert course pushing something decadent around her plate for fear anything she ate might make a quick return. Before she knew it, she was stepping into the palace gardens, unsettled as she wove through courtiers on edge about tomorrow’s departure.
She could not get her mind off what she let go of in the woods. Who was now roaming freely in her court.
She’d left him in the Midwood as the footsteps closed in. They came from the east, and if they’d circled any further back in that direction, they surely would have encountered Ehlaria’s sentry. The Lunar elves weren’t known for their mercy on anyone, let alone sworn enemies of the court.
They may have continued west, where the Rift briefly touches the Somnia. Maybe they weren’t using the Lunar Gate at all, but infiltrating through the Midwood, though Archera had a number of her army stationed at any touch point that might survive a drop from the Rift’s mist.
She shivered—she should have asked more questions. She should have been more focused.
Mirquios dragged Astra back from the dance floor and into a circle of courtiers. He made brief introductions to his closest advisors, who Astra couldn’t help but notice were exceptionally hard to read—though not impossible.
Mirquios must have trained them on her.
For a moment she was irritated, but it quickly faded to gratitude as she sipped a drink in the closest semblance to peace she’d get all night. Mirquios was in the midst of a charming tale of a battle gone wrong with his commander, waving his hands as he spoke. He chuckled softly at something Astra didn’t quite catch, a question Ameera lobbed.
“We met when we were just boys. He’s a Flare refugee, actually, though I should note he doesn’t enjoy speaking of it. I imagine our relationships are quite similar,” Mirquios said, gesturing between Ameera and Astra.
“Ah,” Ameera grinned. “So he’s the king’s babysitter.”
Mirquios barked a laugh as Astra glared, though she was distracted by the map she traced in her mind. If they’d run toward the Rift from where she left them, they would have passed the fork in the forest that led to Celene.
What if they had gotten curious?
“Something like that,” Mirquios continued. “He came to Mercury well before I finished school. We were stationed in the Earthen Court for our Inner Court military service. We spent a few years there during their civil conflict—he made quite the name for himself. He’s an excellent soldier and probably would have been content to stay there for the rest of his life if I hadn’t forced him home with me two years ago. When my father Descended, I turned over quite a few advisory seats to younger, fresher eyes.”
Astra was hardly listening to them, nodding where it felt appropriate. A buzzing had started at the back of her mind, she was losing herself to the anxiety. A bead of sweat ran down her back, drawing her hand to adjust the scooped silk neck of her betrothal gown.
The room’s temperature rose.
The mix of celebration and uncertainty created a strange haze as the courtiers slipped into discussions of Pluto—she felt her grip on herself fading fast, but could not release the threads tangling in her mind.
Shit, if the Solarians had taken a wrong turn in their panic and ended up at Celene’s gates, would they have been prepared? The city below was well-warded and camouflaged, but Solarians were only a threat in concept.
They didn’t actually know much about Solarian tactics. None of the women in Celene were old enough to have faced one.
Perhaps she could sneak away after the ball and make a quick turnaround trip with Riverion, just to be sure. Gods, her head was swimming, drowning in the tenor of the room and the fear creeping up her legs. She needed to get back into the gardens, where she could breathe in the evening air.
But even the gardens weren’t safe.
Mirquios continued beside her as she questioned if she would faint. “Luxuros was an obvious choice for my commander. I’ve never met someone so disciplined or loyal.”
“You forgot devilishly handsome,” a rich voice returned from over her shoulder, cutting into the conversation.
