“And you understand fully what you’re getting yourself into?”
“Absolutely not,” she sighed.
The king laughed, bursting through the tension between them.
“Good, that was a test of your arrogance. But you’ve read the manifesto?”
She frowned. “Partially. Arcas found it. He burned it.”
“Bastard,” Mirquios muttered. “But you’re genuine—you want to bring about the end of the monarchies? You understand that the end goal aims even higher?” His eyes swept upward.
Lunelle nodded, for the first time in her entire life, she felt it deep within her, emanating from the very marrow in her bones—she had found it. Thethingshe was chasing.
“Hold out your hand.”
She extended her pale palm, glimmering under the low lanterns, as he unfolded the blade.
“A shallow cut will do,” he said, his voice steady as he dragged the sharp tip across her flesh, carving a delicate arc in the shape of a crescent moon. “Might as well make you the Lunar queen in your scars, since you may never reign on the throne.”
Lunelle’s lips twisted into a smile, her breath catching as the sting in her flesh sank between tendons, returning a bloody blossom from the wound. A bronze glimmer flickered in the swirling crimsons, the goddess blood within her lurching to the surface of her skin. Mirquios repeated the movement against his own palm, creating a mirrored moon to hers.
“Lunelle Aurellis, Princess of Lunaria, you will fight for the people who serve the courts alongside them, never over them. You will protect peace and reject oppression. You will never reveal your association or another Nova’s as long as we both breathe.”
He held out his palm, stained with a rush of red. She averted her eyes as she rested her hand over his, unable to hold their intensity.
The king closed his fingers around hers, pressing their cuts together. He squeezed to ensure their blood intertwined, a searing heat gripping the nerves of their palms and fusing them together.
Lunelle drew in a sharp breath at the pain, wondering if she would feel any different now that she’d taken such a large step into the ether.
Mirquios stared at their entangled hands. “Now, the other thing you said?—”
A flush of embarrassment crawled over her neck, pushing her back a step. She’d hoped he would forget the other accusation she’d made, as she hadn’t meant to let it slip out.
She hadn’t meant for many of the things she said lately to slip out.
Lunelle sighed, preparing to face the cursed greens of his eyes, impossible to tolerate at such a close distance.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” she admitted quietly, staring at their hands still resting together, the sting racing around her flesh. “I was angry at you, I’mstillangry, by the way. But I was being ridiculous?—”
“Were you?” he asked, his low voice slipping into a hushed whisper across her lips.
The king’s other hand reached forward, catching her chin and forcing her to look at him.
Toseehim.
Her eyes flickered to his, and she swore she heard the entire realm draw a breath as thatthingin her chest she’d wrestled with so many times broke free, shattering bone and blood vessels as it tore through her.
She reached for it, attempting to capture the rush, but there was no containing it.
The king’s hand tightened around hers as time crashed to a halt, the static between them popping into an iridescent shimmer that dimmed the rest of the world, leaving only them.
Only that single second.
Oh, gods.
Lunelle searched for a breath. She did not find it within herself, but rather between them, pulled from an impossible, invisible thread she’d only ever heard stories of.
“H-how? No,” she sputtered, backing away from him, but that only sealed their Fate—it was undeniable as she rocked back and felt the Tether pull at her ribs, begging her to return to him.
