“With Luxuros by her side…” The king paced the small study, his mind working in concentric circles. “If they’re here, that would force you onto the Mercurian throne?—”
“Would it?” she asked, her brows arched.
Mirquios stopped his pacing, doubling back to her and cradling her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb.
“Temporarily, at least. Is that what you want, Princess?”
Lunelle’s lips twisted, though for once, she did not have to think about what she desired.
“More than anything.”
He laughed, a low thundering sound as he pressed his lips to hers.
“I would have made you my queen months ago if it weren’t for… well, everything.” He waved his hand as he gestured to the unseen chaos that kept them constantly on edge.
Lunelle thought aloud. “With Astra on the Lunar throne, the rebellion would have a clear path to turning the rest of the courts, Mirq. She would not hesitate.”
“Neither would the commander. We’d disband Mercury soon after. And Arcas, perhaps?—”
“Yes,” she sighed. “Perhaps.”
Mirquios brushed his fingers over the bridge of her nose.
“We will figure out how he fits into our world, I promise.”
“This could work,” Lunelle breathed.
“Thiswillwork,” Mirquios said.
Three soft raps on the door separated them. Lunelle tucked herself into his bedroom, hiding for what she hoped was the final time. The king pulled back the door to a maiden with a plate of food and a note for him. She set it on the table and disappeared as he read the missive.
“Seems we’ve been summoned,” he said, folding the note into his pocket.
Lunelle stepped back into the room, looking at the plate they’d made for him. A pile of red pomegranate seeds slipped over the edge, bleeding onto the tray.
“One more moment?” she asked, plucking a seed from the plate and letting it roll over her tongue.
Mirquios pulled her into his chest, resting his head on hers.
“You may have every last one of my moments.”
The dustof the Court Below clung to her lips, much like the salt of the sea below her beloved palace.
Only instead of salt, the Nether tasted like ancient secrets, bitter with betrayal.
Lunelle glanced back over her shoulder, ensuring Astra had made it over her side of the dune.
“She’s got this,” Luxuros said as they jogged toward a forest of withered branches and gnarled trees. She believed him—believed in her sister—but her heart ached with worry nonetheless.
“Your prince sure ran off in a hurry,” Mirquios said, ducking beneath a black oak branch, the wood crackling into decay as he touched it.
“Cut him some slack,” Lunelle whispered. “You’re here with your best friend and your… whatever I am?—”
Mirquios stopped walking. “My Moon, my stars, my sole reason for existing… do you need me to go on?”
“Spare us,” Luxuros muttered.
Luxuros trudged ahead of them, a smile tugging at her lips, despite the pain she held for the Plutonian prince.
