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Chapter Twenty-Two

A stra set the moonshine bottle and two cotton blankets on the edge of the smooth rocks bordering the water, warm ripples and steam pouring from stacks of pools above their heads.

She wasted no time in pulling off her dress and leaving it in a heap next to the blankets, peeling off layers of linen and a thin chemise before slipping under the warm water.

She let it wash the tension in her body away, sending her hair into a ruby halo.

When she resurfaced, Luxuros still stood on the edge, debating.

She laughed, leaning over the rock ledge and watching the surrounding water slip over the smooth surface and into the pool below.

“Surely you’ve encountered scarier things than a body, Commander?”

His eyes landed everywhere but on her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, nervously pulling at the leather ties in his vest. “In Mercury, this would be inappropriate, to say the least.”

“Lucky for you, you’re not in Mercury, and we’re both exhausted and sore. I won’t watch.”

Astra winked at him, which he did not find amusing, unsurprisingly.

The whoosh of leather and linen dropping to the ground cut through the gurgling springs, followed by several falling blades—two more than she’d counted on him earlier—heavy boots, and a soft splash as his body slid into the water.

The heat ticked up a few degrees in response to his skin.

She perched on a worn rock at the edge of the pool, pulling her hair over her breasts to ease his discomfort. He sat across from her, leaning against the crystalline rocks with his eyes closed. If Luxuros was anything, it was exhausted. She saw it then, the weight of his station in life.

His body was marked by tough decisions. Lost sleep left its evidence in ravines beneath his eyes.

She told herself to stop staring, but her eyes remained fixed on his broad frame. His shoulders rose above the springs, golden swirls inked along the tops of them. They ran down his back, the skin on his left shoulder still pink and marred by her reckless reaction in the Midwood.

“They’re from a Jovian artist in Mercury. Most Nova Rebels have them. I thought you weren’t watching,” Luxuros said, his voice dropping into a soft Summer storm, the harsh edge she usually earned dissolving into the steam.

His eyes hadn’t been closed, then. A faint rose washed over her face, embarrassed at how long she’d been staring.

“May I?” Luxuros asked, circling his finger in a gesture to turn around.

She stood from her seat, pulling her hair to one side and revealing the ribbon of sparkling Moon phases inked along her spine.

He stood, the water rippling around her hips as he moved forward.

The warmth of his fingertip hovered over the curve of the first crescent Moon at the base of her neck, refusing to actually make contact.

“It’s beautiful work,” he breathed, moving back a step.

“I had it done at a silent retreat. There’s an artist here who makes ink from the Somnia and the dust from altars to the Mother. It took two full days.”

The commander smirked—she felt it in the silence. “No way you stayed quiet for that long.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ha, ha. Let me see yours up close.” She reached out and spun him by his shoulders, his back tightening under her touch.

Where she’d once seen chains in a dream sat a gilded phoenix rising out of the water and across his shoulders.

Beneath the tattoos ran dark purple scars, faded with time, but there nonetheless.

The same burn scars she knew lay under her mother’s gowns.

“It’s not as meaningful as yours, I’m afraid.

Really, I wanted something to cover the Flare scars.

” His shoulders shrugged away from her curious stroke, the golden ink bouncing with the movement.

Flames engulfed the bottom of the bird from what she could see above the water.

“Mirq and I decided for each other. He picked a phoenix for me, I picked a lion for him.”

Astra ran a finger over the wing of the phoenix, glowing with an iridescent shimmer. “What’s in the ink?”

“Pixie dust,” he laughed, turning to face her.

“I’m serious!”

“So am I,” he grinned. “Jovian specialty. Wait until you see it in the sunlight.”

She shivered. “If I don’t catch fire the second I wander into it.”

“I believe Mirquios has already ordered his courtkeeper to add shades to the windows,” he teased.

“So thoughtful.” The mention of the king’s name was a stark reminder that she was not just a friend enjoying a relaxing evening, but a future queen he needed to guard. She should have been more considerate about the position she put him in.

The leather cord around his neck pulled her from the thought.

She’d seen it before, peeking over the top of his shirts, and once in Ellume, but she’d never gotten such a close look at the raw moonstone hanging from the leather.

A delicately carved gold Sun and Moon hugged the iridescent moonstone, catching the starlight above.

He jumped back as she reached out to touch it, returning to his side of the pool.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped, surprised by his sudden movement, intrigued but also kicking herself for intruding on his space. He dropped his eyes toward the sea beyond the springs, squinting in the low light.

“It’s fine. It’s just, no one else should touch it.”

She nodded, afraid to pry further. He briefly looked back toward her, touching the amulet with a wince. “Apologies, Princess.”

“Lux.” She crossed the pool, moving closer but careful to give him time to react. “Must we fight about this constantly?”

He chuckled. “When you’re married, you know I’ll have to refer to you as ‘Your Highness,’ right?”

She groaned. “ Please don’t. You know I hate the honorifics. They just feel so unearned.”

“Most of your court would kill for the title, but you hold it in such little regard. I would say it seems ungrateful, but that doesn’t fit.”

Her brows curved in curiosity. “Then what is it?”

“You feel unworthy of it.”

Astra held her breath, her eyes giving away how right he was.

“You move through this world with the grace of a queen and the grit of a dragon, but the discipline of a feral animal. It’s bewildering how your mind runs in all directions at once.

But you don’t see what an asset it would be if you mastered it.

You see what a danger you are if you don’t.

I know I’ve contributed to that. Perhaps I was too quick to judge. ”

“A feral animal,” she repeated, scrunching her nose as she laughed, ignoring the near-apology.

Lux nodded. “I’ve seen many atrocities in this life, Astra. One of the biggest is that you don’t have the faintest idea of your potential for destruction.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he stopped her. “That wasn’t an insult.” His amber gaze held hers, the hard line of her brow softening. “This time,” he added.

She considered this. She was used to her demeanor being boiled down to untamed impulses, but rarely did the critics of the court acknowledge what ran beneath her flesh in unseen currents.

The control she’d worked at for years. So much of her strength lived between breaths in what she didn’t show them.

She narrowed her eyes, trying to understand what he was getting at.

“The women here have done me a great honor by opening my eyes to the injustices of the system within which we operate. You’ll notice not one of them calls me princess unless they are mocking me—that is where my aversion truly comes from.

We’re all equal here. We’re working toward the same goals.

Everyone agrees on the rules, and if there’s any opposition, we examine the issue from all sides and hear each other out.

Everyone cleans, everyone cooks, everyone rests.

It’s a system that works, but not if I’m a princess. ”

“You sound like someone I know.” Lux grinned, leaning his head back again. “Mirquios dreams of a titleless world.”

“So he’s said. I look forward to introducing him to Cam and a few of the other leaders, and showing him how we work.”

“I imagine your mother opposes the idea.”

Astra snorted. “She won’t even hear of it.”

He lifted his head again. “Minds can change, Astra.”

“Sure.” She smiled weakly. “Just look at you. A month ago you thought me nothing but a spoiled princess who would destroy everything you love. ”

He flashed a wicked grin. “Yes. And someday I may just change my mind.”

Astra paced forward, a dark laugh from him drawing her toward the melody.

“Well, if nothing else, you’ve stopped sighing every time I open my mouth.”

He nodded, spreading his arms back over the rocks behind him, his chest expanding as he inhaled.

“Earlier,” she whispered. “What was that between our palms?”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” he said through tight teeth, his eyes shifting away from her.

She shook her head. “I think you are.”

“I truly don’t know,” he insisted, his eyes silently begging her to move on. “A trick I learned between battlefields and bar fights.” He changed the subject. “Daria…”

She sank back against the rocks, her head swirling with memories and regrets. The steam rose around them, like the haze over cups of warm tea Daria would bring her in the pale morning moonlight. “Daria and I were…”

“Complicated?” Lux arched a brow.

“Actually, no,” she sighed. “It was supremely uncomplicated at first. I had just been shipped to Celene. I happened across her path in the Midwood one day, and that was it. We were simply together. And it was nice until it wasn’t.

” Astra swallowed. It caused her physical pain to reduce Daria to a nice time, but it was certainly easier that way.

“You loved her.”

Astra fought the urge to curse at him, but he was not judging. He was genuinely curious.