Lunelle resented how much she did want to accompany him.
She paced beside him in a silence she soon resented, too. Not because it was uncomfortable, or even unwanted, but because there was only one other person in the world she felt so at ease in the quiet with, and she bore the king’s ring on her left hand.
But maybe here, in the safety of her subconscious, she could forgive herself for the transgressions bubbling against her fingertips.
They strolled beneath the cerulean haze of Pluto’s night sky. The rose bushes whispered to one another, gossiping about what a traitorous fool the Lunar princess was.
At least, that’s what Lunelle assumed they might say.
“My advisor overheard your mother and Arcas making plans today,” Mirquois admitted, his words tense with the tone of a man who told himself he wouldn’t get involved.
“Did they?”
“It seems he is to be a Lunar champion.”
“Oh,” Lunelle sighed, a rush of heat in her cheeks softer here, but she was sure she’d be consumed in flames if they were in a real garden. “Of course. You know, with so much up in the air, I’d almost convinced myself that my trial would be delayed.”
Mirquios nodded, slowing his pace as they stepped under a meandering tree spilling gentle pink blossoms onto the pavers below.
“He’s not the worst fate, Mirquios?—”
She searched the king’s bright gaze, somehow even brighter here.She shrugged, unsure how she felt about anything at this point.
“So, you’ll marry him, then?”
“If that’s what’s best for the courts?—”
“What about what’s best for you?”
Lunelle sighed. “What about it?You bear the same weight I do, Mirquios. You knowdesire and duty rarely intersect. You are fortunate that Fate chose to bless you.”
“So youdohave desires?” His lips curled upward.
She turned away from him, her arms crossing at her chest.
“It does not matter whether I do or don’t.”
She felt him, even through the misty waves of this plane, as he hovered just behind her.
“What is it you dream of? Is it Arcas? Because if you want to be with him, who would I be to interfere?—”
Lunelle spun to face him—she knew how close he was, but it still somehow took her by surprise, the crackling of static between them.
“Who would you be to interfere with anything about my life or my court?”
The king started, raising his hand to his chest.
“Lunelle, I am your friend?—”
“You are no such thing, Mirquios. You are a foreign king whom I’ve known just as long as I’ve known the Plutonian prince. You are my sister’s betrothed, but that does not make you somehow all-knowing of my desires or what is best for me or anything of the matter!”
She battled the urge to stomp her foot, maintaining her balanced posture despite the voice in her head screaming.
Mirquios took a moment, his eyes dropping over her face, watching for the truth of her. He leaned forward, dropping his voice to a whisper as if someone might interrupt them.
“I would keep your secrets, Lunelle.”
Her nose scrunched. He thought he would keep her secrets because he did not know how deeply buried they were. He did not know the ache forming in her Soul. He did not know she was beginning to fear he and her secrets were one and the same.
