“Favorite flowers, for example?” she snapped.
The commander rolled his eyes. “No, Astra. Believe it or not, I’m very observant. It’s the job. You drink your coffee black unless you’re hungover. Then, you take it with a little sugar and follow it immediately with a cup of tea. You prefer to wear your hair down, but always pin it up if your mother or sister are around. I have my theories about why, but won’t bore you with them. You’re a big fan of Capella’s poetry. You’ve blown through at least three of her anthologies just since I’ve been in the court and you leave notes in the margins for someone. I thought Ameera, but she doesn’t seem to be as much of a fan. She tends to reach for history books.”
“I leave them for Lunelle,” she murmured.
Lux continued, “And you always take the moonblossom centerpieces back to your room after dinner. If there are roses or violets, you leave them.”
Astra leaned away from him, the air too thick around her throat.
“And besides all that, it doesn’t really matter if I wrote him a damned encyclopedia on you if you Tethered, does it? The gods themselves ordained it. Who cares how well-studied he was or wasn’t?”
“Right,” she said, unable to look at him.
“Unless…”
“Unless what?” she repeated, her fingers tightening against her palms.
“Nothing,” he said quietly. Her lungs flared with violet wisps she resented immediately as she felt the urge to push him, to dig out the truth.
“As?” Ameera’s voice broke the scarlet web forming in her chest, her footsteps echoing off the stairs below. Astra moved away from the commander, grateful for the breath she forced down.
“As!”
“In here!” She called, Luxuros’s eyes glued back on the book.
Ameera sighed as she entered the study. “I think we should leave for home first thing in the morning.”
“Oh?” Astra asked. Luxuros closed the book, his ears perked by the alarm in her tone.
“Helena told me that the wards have been down for months, at least. Ivonne has been hiding it from your mother, insisting on handling it on her own. She thinks the priestess is letting them in intentionally, hoping they’ll find their way to Lunaria and—well—do exactly what you think they’ll do. Technically, if the Aurellis line ends, the Bloodmoons are the next to the throne.”
“Gods above,” Astra gasped. “All that talk of traitors and she’s giving the enemy free reign of the Rift!”
“Do you think she’s safe one more night, or should we leave now?” Luxuros asked, stacking the books and documents together and shoving them back into the bag.
“I think leaving when most of the city is sleeping is better,” Ameera said. “We could wait until moonrise, but we shouldn’t linger.”
“We’d have to take horses,” Astra muttered. “And stop to get Riv in Celene.”
Ameera sighed, a spark of something pink twirling in a wine-red river settling in her stomach. The commander slung the bag over his shoulder and looked to Astra to make the final call.
“I’ll speak with Eileen. We should leave within the hour.”
Chapter
Twenty-One
“Cam won’t want him here,” Ameera said as Astra slid off her horse, leading her through the crumbling gates of Celene’s facade.
No one shuffled within the small village at the late hour, but Astra and Ameera knew a spotter was probably on her way to the city below to alert the council of their presence.
“I can handle myself,” the commander said. “I’ll camp.”
Astra twisted toward him, struck by a need to show him the city they’d built, a craving to see Celene through his disapproving glare.
“You can’t camp out here. I’ve been shot at in these woods more times than I can count. I need you to understand that the women in this city are my family, they are my top priority, and if ears outside of the rebellion were to hear about them?—”
She cut herself off, unwilling to imagine the things that could happen. “You will not speak to anyone unless spoken to. You will not make eye contact. You will not tell a soul what, or who, you’ve seen, okay?”
