He tilted his head sideways, a slow smirk crawling across his lips. “You Lunarian women are so addicted to your intuition, you hate having to use your human sides.”
“I’m not complaining. I’ve no interest in your emotions, Commander. Merely curious how you manage it.”
“Decades of practice. Lunarians don’t have a monopoly on magic. I’ve been in and out of all nine Living Courts. I’ve had to protect myself.”
Astra’s heart squeezed at the thought that she wasn’t alone in this world, that perhaps there were others suffering with her same affliction. She’d always assumed she was singular in her curse. She turned toward him, forcing herself to stare at his face despite the heat’s irritation to her eyes.
“You have to get your head above the heat or you’ll never be able to stand me.”
“Can my will also supersede your personality?” She muttered.
This drew a surprised laugh from the commander, his shoulders shrugging with the sudden force of it. He winced and reached for the injury she’d caused.
“How bad is it?”
“The wound to my shoulder or my pride?” Luxuros stretched, grimacing against the pain.
“I don’t much care about your pride.”
“It’s not good,” he said. “I was unaware of the… the flames.” He wiggled his fingers between them.
“I have something that will help,” she mumbled as she slipped through the door to the right of her bookshelves, directly attached to her bed chambers. She darted across the darkened room and into the vanity, searching through the drawers for the salve Ameera made.
When the fire first started, she was just a child, unable to maintain her control of the embers. They’d often scorch her fingertips or thighs as she sat in lessons. She took in a gulp of cool air, unaffected by the commander’s heritage through the wall.
“Ah,” she exclaimed as her hand found the cool jar at the back of the drawer. She moved quickly back into the study, where Luxuros had abandoned his perch, and moved closer to the painting above her desk, examining it.
“My father’s work,” Astra said quietly as she unscrewed the lid from the jar.
“It’s incredible.”
Astra glanced up, used to Nayson’s talent, but always thrilled to hear someone else acknowledge it. The commander touched his chin, taking in the ruddy canyon as a brilliant sunrise popped over the horizon. “It’s an Earthen canyon?”
“Yes, my father’s home village.”
“What’s in the—oh! Is that a dragon?”
Astra smirked as she scooped a generous amount of the salve onto her fingers, steeling herself as she approached him.
“My dragon.”
“You ride?”
“Not as often as I’d like.”
“How many princesses ride dragons?”
Astra shrugged, gesturing for him to sit down in her chair. “Plenty, I’m sure. They just aren’t allowed to brag about it.”
The commander leaned away from her outstretched fingers. “You don’t have to do that?—”
“Don’t get too excited, Commander. I’m mostly curious about what the damage looks like. I typically only burn myself.”
Luxuros stared at her, unsure if he was willing to be that vulnerable with the person who caused the injury in the first place. He straightened his back, setting his mouth in a hard line. “Typically?”
Her lips fell into a frown. “Typically.”
He straightened his shoulders but made no move to let her get closer. Astra was out of patience at so late an hour. She scraped the salve from her fingers back into the jar and tightened the lid, shoving it into his hands.
