He looked godsdamned peaceful, for once.
Lunelle fell back over her feet, swinging her legs out to stretch along his. She leaned close to him, in a way she wouldn’t have done anywhere else, the buzz between them exaggerated in this space.
She wondered for a moment where he really was—if he was in bed, thinking of her, and somehow the cosmos pushed them together. She lay back in the grass, the skies above rippled with rainbow threads and glittering stars.
“Lunelle?”
“Hmm?” she hummed as she ran her fingertips over the silk of her gown, letting the gentle breeze and whispering of the stream lull her into a second sleep.
“Never mind,” Arcas whispered, leaning closer to her, his hand just brushing the silk piled between them.
When she woke, she half expected to find him in her bed, but the space remained empty, producing a strange ache in her stomach she did not have time to unravel.
ChapterEleven
Lunelle ran her hands along the cover of Kwan’s manuscript, the steam from her tea rising over the first section.
A People’s History of The Flare.
She had stared at the words for an hour already, hoping to enjoy the palace to herself at the late hour. She’d spent much of the day unfocused, and a lengthy conversation between her mother and Arcas after dinner had only left her even more unsettled.
She had alsoattemptedto sleep to make up for the prior evening’s interruptions, but it was of no use. There were too many questions and so very few answers.
“I’ll be along soon.”
Lunelle looked up from the manuscript, setting her pen down as she waved the steam rolling off her cup away from her. She tugged a half-drafted letter to Astra over Kwan’s book.
“Good evening, Mirquios,” she said, stretching her back lightly over the chair.
“Evening? It’s the middle of the night. Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”
Lunelle shrugged. He stopped at the edge of her table, pulling his cloak off and laying it over his forearm.
“My sense of time is completely thrown off with the Sun and all of Pluto’s Moons. Add in an all-nighter with Yallara and I’m afraid, to be frank, I’m fucked.”
Mirquios barked a laugh at this, his eyes lighting up at her harsh language.
“I don’t think I’ve slept properly since leaving Mercury,” he confessed. “May I join you?”
“Please,” she said, straightening up her pile of parchment. She signaled to Lura across the terrace for another teacup. She’d tried to send her maiden to bed hours ago, but after carefully watching her all day, Lura’s concern was clear.
Mirquios eyed the teapot suspiciously.
“Merely chamomile this time,” Lunelle assured him.
“How boring.” He draped his cloak over the seat across from her and slid into the chair.
“My sister hasn’t responded to a single letter this week,” Lunelle muttered under her breath, gesturing to her unfinished missive.
The king nodded. “I haven’t had much luck, either.”
Lunelle watched him, his bright eyes half closed at the late hour.
“She’s always been bad at keeping up with her correspondence. If I know her, she’s not even in Lunaria at this point. The second my mother left the court, she probably darted off to gods know where.”
“Luxuros is with her, he doesn’t tolerate trouble.” He took the cup Lura offered him and slowly inhaled the floral steam.
Lunelle snorted. “I fear my sister won’t toleratehim.”
