“Lunelle?” her mother asked quietly beside her.
Her shoulders jerked as she turned toward the queen. “Sorry.”
“You’re quite distracted this evening.” Oestera folded her hands in her lap, her eyes darting between Lunelle and the Plutonian princess, stifling a laugh beside her.
“There’s just so much… splendor to take in,” Lunelle returned, plucking another plump roll from the center of the table.
She’d had at least three, but nothing seemed to quell the ravenous hunger in her stomach.
Her mother sighed. “Perhaps we absorb the splendor later. Or at least, with our mouths closed.”
Lunelle’s jaw snapped shut. She hadn’t realized it was open.
“Better,” Oestera muttered.
Yallara’s shoulders stiffened as a flurry of movement from the far end of the room stirred the courtiers’ attention.
A servant called out, “His Royal Highness, Prince Arcas Hydranos of Pluto.”
The room rose in a fluid motion, Lunelle’s own frame a beat behind as she shuffled her seat back and tried to straighten her spine against the weight of the tea’s haze bearing down on her.
Everything felt suffocating.
The dress, the lights, the eyes of the Inner Court leaders as they ruffled along the table. She followed them to the prince at the head of the table—a pillar of long, slender lines, crowned by a disappointed sneer. His sapphire eyes and pale blue complexion mirrored his younger sister’s, but he lacked her self-assuredness, her lightness. Arcas stood with his chest out, though Lunelle could tell by the tension in his shoulders it was not the natural posture he’d preferred. He had to work to maintain it.
He was putting on a show, desperate to reflect the strength and confidence he found in the regents staring back at him.
Arcas sat, catalyzing a wave of courtiers falling to their chairs, and she felt her head swirl again as she plopped unceremoniously back into hers. Her eyes flickered toward Mirquios, seated to her left, and she recognized the same panic in his eyes she was trying to suppress. His lips cracked into a wide grin as she turned away, afraid to start giggling lest she never stop.
“I am honored to host each of you,” Prince Arcas declared, his voice tight. Nervous, Lunelle realized. She wondered briefly how her sister would see him—what anxious rainbow clutched at his throat and soaked his shirts. “I hope over the coming weeks we can come to an agreement on how Pluto fits into your alliance.”
Oestera raised a glass, prompting the rest of the dignitaries to follow, though Lunelle noticed a considerable amount of wine slip over the edge of Mirquios’s glass as he over-extended his arm. She stifled another giggle, drawing a disturbed glare from her mother.
“Sorry,” she mouthed, setting her glass down but realizing a second too late that Arcas hadn’t given a toast yet. She floated the glass back up as he began speaking again. It was Yallara this time who snorted.
“To forging new loyalties,” he said, his eyes glazing over the faces staring back at him.
“Hear, hear!” Mirquios bellowed, the final note sinking quickly to a whisper as he realized he was the only one to cheer as glasses clinked together. Lunelle missed the Martian colonel’s glass across from her by a hair. Mirquios gasped at her mistake, quickly dropping his gaze and covering his mouth. Lunelle shot him a glare as her mother’s slipper connected with her shin beneath the table.
Dinner could not be over soon enough.
Arcas pressed forward as he sank into the chair at the head of the table. “I would love to hear more about each of your courts and how we can be strong partners as Solan closes in around the Outer Courts, but tonight, let us celebrate.”
Chatter rose over the table as wine flowed and dishes began appearing before them.
“This is worse than I thought it would be,” Mirquios whispered, leaning close to her.
She only nodded, shoveling her first course into her mouth as quickly as she could without raising alarm. Shehadto soak up that tea before it consumed any sanity left within her.
As she ate, she risked a glance at the prince, his lips downturned as the Venusian High Regent spoke in silky ribbons.
He was not unattractive, she decided.
Though somewhere in her mind, she realized her judgment was not exactly sound. The edge of his jaw cut against his hand as he rested it in his palm before Yallara’s tilted head caught his attention. She pulled her shoulders back, sitting up taller against her chair, and Arcas followed, unfolding into a wider, broader posture as he rested his hand against the table.
Lunelle’s lips curled into a soft smile, the connection between the siblings warming the space within her saved for her own sister.
“Arcas,” Oestera hummed over the table as she leaned forward. “The princess missed the palace tour your lovely sister gave this afternoon. Perhaps you could show her the Plutonian orchards in the morning?”
