“Ah. I see.”
“You don’t see,” Ameera said. “Daria Bloodmoon is a fucking baby who ran off to Ellume when?—”
“Enough, Ameera!” Astra held out a hand. “It’s not important. Daria and I have our issues, but there’s no reason not to hear her out. We’re all adults here.”
Luxuros scoffed as Daria returned, a scroll in her tattooed hands. She sank into the seat behind her desk, setting the parchment between them.
Astra watched Daria’s face as she rifled through feeling after feeling to categorize them and give them places to hide before she could turn her steel gaze onto the princess’s face.
Astra could only see a girl she once knew, who told her every secret, every passing thought. One who knew how to unfasten a column of linen-covered buttons in record time?—
“Well,” Astra said, sucking in a cooling breath through her clenched teeth. “You have me. What do you want with me?’
“I need your help,” Daria admitted. “Much as it pains me to say it.”
Astra sighed. “Gods, what?—”
“I need you to not freak out, As.”
“I’m not called the Calm Queen!” She gestured to the room around them for dramatic effect. “Just tell me where the fuck we are.”
“You,” Daria said, inhaling deeply. “Are sitting in the barracks of the Lunar chapter of the Nova Rebels.”
Astra’s head spun, unsure what to make of the words coming out of Daria’s mouth. She knew them all individually, but strung together in that order she was at a loss. Fortunately, she didn’t have to say a thing, because the commander did the talking for her.
“Li elomhi eontu?” he asked, his Mercurian accent slipping away into something unknown.
Daria’s eyes sparkled. “Eontu neu.” She returned, stretching her arm across the table to grip his in a quick shake. Astra looked between them, shock settling into the hollows of her cheeks.
“Seems you might already know quite a bit then,” Daria said.
“No,” Luxuros replied, shaking his head. “She knows nothing about the rebellion.” His shoulders relaxed as he turned his attention back to the maps behind Daria.
“I’m a quick study,” Astra protested.
“I remember,” Daria whispered, her eyes fixed on Astra’s face as a twist of something dark, like sweet wine, crawled her neck. “The Nova Rebels are a network of activists working to dismantle the oppressive monarchies that do nothing but take from their courts.”
“Amazing,” Astra whispered, glancing toward the commander. “That’s fantastic!”
“You’re, uh, kind of part of those monarchies, As,” Daria murmured.
“Only by blood,” Astra insisted. “You know me, Daria. You’ve seen what we’re capable of in Celene.”
“Of course,” Daria said. “There are plenty of monarchs who understand our mission. You’re one of them, I presume,” Daria looked toward Luxuros who nodded.
“Not quite. Luxuros, Commander to the King of Mercury.”
“Mirquios is a good man,” Daria chirped. “I’ve met him a few times now. I heard a rumor that he was engaged to the Lunar princess—does that mean Lunelle is sympathetic to our cause?”
Astra laughed darkly, a violet wave tickling her back. “He’s not engaged to Lunelle,” she said, leaning across the desk. “He’s engaged to me.”
Daria was silent for a beat too long. “You?”
“Me!” She mocked. “Is that really so surprising?”
“Yes,” Daria insisted. “It is. Besides the obvious, I assumed your mother would keep you chained to the Lunar Court all your days.”
“What do you mean?”
