“So you’re marrying a Mercurian king, then?”
Astra leaned her back against the banister, cradling her arms as she spoke. “I have to.”
“You don’t?—”
The heat in Astra’s eyes silenced her protest. “I do, Daria. Mirquios has a vision that I believe in and marrying him gets me out from under my mother’s thumb. He wants to dismantle the Mercurian Court in favor of something like Celene.”
Daria nodded, pulling on the end of a ruby curl that sprang free from the knot at the back of Astra’s neck. She dropped her gaze, the heat of it sizzling against Astra’s lips.
“But a man?”
Astra laughed—a full, round thing that she so rarely felt reverberated in her chest. “I was surprised, too. But the will of the gods…”
“Spare me the details, Princess. You broke my heart once. That was more than sufficient for this lifetime. I don’t need to hear about the wonder and awe of a Tether.” Daria winced, an emerald flicker wrapping her throat.
Astra squeezed her eyes shut, letting her fingertips brush Daria’s forearm before turning to head inside. “Goodnight, Bloodmoon.”
“Until morning, Blastra.”
Luxuros stood trapped on the second-floor landing of the manor, Eileen listing every possible amenity he could need.
Astra caught her at the end of her monologue.
“And please, whatever you do, do not believe a word this one says about where to find things. She has never once put something back in the proper place.” Eileen pointed an ancient finger at her.
She fluttered her lashes. “And here I thought you liked our little games, Eileen.” Astra leaned over the banister and placed a quick kiss on the maiden’s cheek.
“You’re my favorite job security. Don’t tell your sister,” she laughed. “I turned down the queen’s quarters for you?—”
“Oh! No, Eileen, that won’t be necessary.” Astra waved her hands, small sparks dancing against the stair railing.
“It’s already done. Beggars can’t be choosers, as they say.” Eileen sank into her hip. “And besides, it’s not like your mother is using it anytime soon.”
“Fine,” Astra conceded. “Where did you put the commander?”
“Your father’s room. Best book collection in the house. You look like you read, Commander.” Eileen’s eyes slid over Luxuros, a spike of heat warming his bronze cheeks.
“Thank you,” he murmured, the deep tenor of his voice sending a thrill through Eileen’s heart. Astra made a note to use this as leverage for teasing her in the morning.
“I’ll show you. Goodnight, Eileen.” Astra passed him on the staircase, climbing a third set of steps to the top floor of the manor. She led him through a narrow hallway that ended in two ornate moonstone doors, the Lunar cycle carved over the entries.
“That’s you,” she said, and before she got the final sound out Luxuros was through the door. “Goodnight!” She called out as the door clicked shut.
She twisted the crystal handle on her mother’s quarters, holding her breath as she entered. She much preferred the soft, amber glow of the smaller room here than in the cavernous chambers at the palace. The luxurious bed tempted her, singing a sweet song, but she had to get out of her riding pants before she allowed the duvet to cradle her.
She yanked off her pants and vest, tossing them toward the bed. They slipped into a heap on the floor, but that was a problem for tomorrow. She flipped through the dozens of silk nightgowns in her mother’s wardrobe. Pale pinks, purples, and blues slid from one end to the other until she landed on a deep emerald green, a color she’d always been drawn to. The silk poured over her curves, caressing her sore muscles as she stretched.
She reached up to her hair, sliding her crescent pin from the knot at her neck and resting it on the onyx table beside her bed.
Something cracked against the floor in the next room over, shattering against the aged stone.
“Ah, shit,” Luxuros muttered through the wall.
Astra darted across the hall, bursting into her father’s room. The commander stooped over a pile of amethyst shards.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m so sorry.” Luxuros rose, cradling the pieces in his hands. He set the larger pieces on the desk beside him, where she realized a painting used to live. “I knocked over the frame,” he explained.
