“Oh, gods,” Arcas murmured, stopping mid-turn as the air in the room shifted into something strange, cool.
Whispers tickled at Lunelle’s ears, the sudden loss of momentum from Arcas throwing her off balance. She followed the wide stares of the courtiers to an ancient goddess, one boasting the same frigid glare Lunelle knew she fell into.
Her mother was across the floor in a heartbeat, but Selenia was already before her, an ethereal glow with a sick black at the edge—how Lunelle hadn’t caught it before was beyond her.
“Lunelle.” Selenia reached forward, tilting her chin with ancient fingertips, sizing her up. She felt two distinct shivers within her—one gold, one black, both wrapped in a protective rage.
“Grandmother.” Lunelle lowered her head, the tiara atop it suddenly feeling rather heavy.
“What an exciting celebration!” Selenia announced, cutting the music short as the orchestra realized there was a disturbance in the crowd.
Oestera stood beside Lunelle, her shoulder brushing her daughter’s in a silent show ofsomething. She felt both the panicked pull of the Tether as Mirquios wrestled in his spot and the cool alchemy of Arcas as his hand dropped to her hip, pulling her closer to him. His sapphire eyes flickered to the king’s cold stare, the slightest nod between them turning and untangling one of the many knots within her.
Selenia cast a look at her daughter that burned Lunelle’s chest.
“No need to stop on my account! I’m merely here to deliver a message on behalf of the Court Above. We’ve been waiting with bated breath to see who our champions will be, but it seems my daughter has failed to provide much competition for your hand, my dear girl.”
Selenia reached for Lunelle’s hand, squeezing it as she spoke. The chill from her fingers ran through Lunelle’s gloves, sending goosebumps over her exposed arms.
Selenia continued, “We try not to involve ourselves unless absolutely necessary, of course, but that time has come.”
Lunelle’s eyes slid to her mother’s face, ever the perfect mask of calculated disinterest.
“You there, Mercurian child, look how you’ve grown under the harsh Sun. Your great-grandmother was just bragging to us at a party about how excited they are for a Lunar queen.”
Lunelle lurched forward as her grandmother reached for Mirquios, but the hand on her hip clutched the stars floating from her dress.
“Easy, starling,” Arcas whispered.
Mirquios stepped forward, Astra’s warm gaze kindling into something brazen.
Selenia pursed her lips. “I understand there’s an arrangement made here already, but Astra, my dear girl, surely you understand that bigger games are at play?”
Lunelle watched as her father stepped into her line of vision, his expression a myriad of concern. His fingers danced over the dagger on his hip.
“Mercury has proven themselves worthy of a Lunarian woman already, but perhaps the Lunar Court needs young Mirquios’s eyes more than Pluto’s... modest offering.”
Arcas’s breath hitched as he released his hold on her, injured by the goddess’s assessment.
Selenia’s lips curled in disgust at his visible offense and Lunelle fought the urge to verbally spar with the goddess.
“I suppose only the trial will tell.”
Oestera’s voice cracked, “Mother?—”
Lunelle flinched as Selenia’s hand rose, silencing Oestera.
“It is decided. What happens tomorrow is up to Fate.”
“But Astra… the Tether?—”
Astra played her part well. Her eyes were perfectly terror-struck, and Lunelle wondered if it was impressive acting or the realization that she was about to be truly indebted to Selenia.
Selenia continued, “Sometimes we get things wrong, Oestera. Surely you can understand that. Astra is a strong girl. She’ll do whatever it takes to secure her court, will she not?”
Lunelle’s gaze tracked a single tear as it slipped over her sister’s pale cheek.
“There we have it. Mirquios is to compete in the trial against Arcas, and we’ll have a real show to watch in the Court Above. Although...”
