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And there, under a gnarled oak in the Midwood, sat Astra in a black morning dress, tucked gently around her knees as she read from a poetry anthology just this morning, surely no more than an hour or two before the queen sent for her.

Astra’s heart lurched as she realized the ball had been used to locate something—not just something, her . She pushed the object away, glancing from her sister’s concerned expressions to her mother’s waiting eyes.

Her mother tilted forward. “What is it?”

“Are you okay?” Lunelle asked.

“I can’t be certain,” Astra mumbled. She worked to keep her voice even. “It’s some sort of divination tool that locates things—people. The user stared at it and said something in a language I didn’t recognize. It swirled and showed him what he asked for.”

“What did it show?” Archera studied Astra’s face as she stilled her mind again, unsure if she should be honest. She searched her body, begging her muscles to tell her what the consequences might be if she were honest. What they’d be if she weren’t.

“The Midwood,” she said hesitantly. The wound she’d earned on her way in ached as she crossed her arms over her chest. Had a Solarian fired that arrow? “A village not far into the woods, near the Somnia’s bank.”

Oestera asked, “Did you see who wielded it?”

Astra turned toward her. “No, his face was warped in the reflection. But his skin glowed a golden bronze. He had cuffs around his wrists.”

“Solarian,” Archera said, looking at her second-in-command beside her.

Oestera’s eyes snapped to her. “This is exactly what I was worried about after Ellume’s little stunt at the Equinox.

I should have sent you down to check on the wards in person.

We can’t trust their High Priestess. I want every corner of the Midwood searched.

We’re either looking at a leak in the Rift or a traitor in the court. Neither is acceptable.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Archera mumbled, scooting her chair back from the table. “Can you draw me a map of the village, Princess?”

“I could go with you?—”

“You’re needed here,” Oestera cut her daughter off.

“Ameera can guide you. She knows it,” Astra muttered, a red anger crawling up her throat.

“Excellent.” Oestera moved on. “If this is connected to the rumors we’ve heard of rebels in the woods, we’ll need to be careful with the girls.” Archera nodded as Astra shrank in her seat.

A normal day in the court was restrictive enough, but with heightened anxiety around her safety?

Misery.

“Rebels?” She asked.

Oestera’s chest flickered briefly to life in Astra’s mind’s eye, a rare slip of color allowing her to glimpse the turmoil within.

“Much has changed since your departure, Astra. Rebel activity has bubbled up within the cities across the courts. We believe they’re in service to the Solar King.”

“But why would they be here? Doesn’t he have bigger problems in the Outer Courts?”

“It only benefits him if the Inner Courts and Lunar Court are focused on suppressing civil matters and not on preparing for whatever plans he’s laying in the Outer Courts. If our armies are tangled in war here, we can’t attack him, much less defend ourselves.”

An ache pulled at Astra’s attention in her bones. Something wasn’t quite right with her mother’s theories, but she couldn’t see a clear reason to continue pushing.

“I see,” she settled.

“It’s time we talked about strengthening our alliances within the Inner Courts,” Oestera announced, her eyes scanning the other councilors.

“We know they won’t stand against us. We’ve maintained healthy enough relationships with their leaders, but many of them have turned over to their heirs. We should re-engage them.”

Astra’s mind fell into the sea below, the icy water churning her thoughts as she considered what she’d heard here in tandem with the stinging wound on her shoulder.

“There’s much to consider,” Archera said, nodding. “We’ll brief you this evening with what we discover in the Midwood.”

“Thank you,” Oestera replied, a chill in her tone serving as a dismissal for everyone else at the table.

The women stood and shuffled, leaving only Astra, Lunelle, and a silent observer resting at the back of the hall that Astra had failed to clock when she entered.

Her father ambled over, hesitant to disrupt the meeting, and laid a hand on Astra’s shoulder, squeezing as he dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

“Welcome home,” Oestera said as she joined them, in what she was sure was a warm enough tone, though the sentiment didn’t quite translate to her daughter, despite her sensibilities.

“Did you need anything else from me?” Astra asked as she gestured to the orb, sitting dormant beneath the cloth. “Or was that all you sent for?”

Oestera sank into a chair across from her daughters, leaning forward with perfectly poised shoulders. “We think it’s time you returned home. For good.”

She swallowed the panic erupting in her chest, the faces of dozens of women back in Celene flashing to her mind. “I don’t think that’s an option for me,” she mumbled.

Oestera sighed. “I’m happy to hear you’ve found yourself useful in Celene, but the Solstice is days away. Wouldn’t you like to spend your birthday with your family?”

Astra flinched. “You didn’t seem too concerned about who I spent the last three birthdays with, Mother.”

“Things were still too fresh, darling. We’ve spent enough time apart. I can’t stand to see your seat remain empty. At least stay with us through the Solstice and let us celebrate you. A Lunar Princess leaving her first cycle behind is a huge accomplishment.”

Astra considered this. She remembered the fanfare of Lunelle’s thirtieth birthday, the last party she’d attended at the palace before her exile.

Perhaps if she allowed the firestorm brewing in her fingertips to slip out, nothing too destructive, maybe just a bust in the hall, would that be enough to get her shipped back to Celene permanently?

Lunelle’s voice slipped into her mind again. Please stay, As. I miss you so badly.

Why? So I can parade around as if I’m still a part of this family for a night before she gets angry and sends me home again? I may be leaving my maiden cycle behind, but I’m still me, Lu.

Lunelle glanced at her sister, their parents exchanging an exasperated look they hadn’t shared in three years—Oestera had forgotten about this particularly annoying feature of her second-born’s strange magic.

I need my sister, Lunelle pleaded. This is our last few months together before I take the throne. Let’s enjoy it, hmm?

She could never tell Lunelle no. Astra’s lips twisted into an irritated pout. “I will stay for my birthday… if you promise to hear me out on some changes I think you should consider,” she said, turning her amber gaze onto her mother.

“I think there’s enough changing right now,” Oestera said, her eyebrows arching in a way that did not invite more discussion.

“Of course,” Astra relented. Oestera was already up and crossing the room, on to the next.

“Come Lunelle,” she said as she waved her hand. “We have lunch with the treasury.”

Astra watched as they made their exit, both swaying in the same pattern.

“Gods, it’s good to see you at the table, my love,” her father said, a wide grin breaking over his olive skin as he plopped into the chair Lunelle vacated.

His deep brown eyes filled with the same sadness Astra recognized from the night she was cast out of the court, the regret and pain still living just under the surface.

“What’s the point of coming to the table if I’ll never be heard?” She asked.

Her father’s shoulders softened. “You have a brilliant mind, Astra, and a heart that seeks so much good. You always have, but you’ve seen so very little of this world. Your mother has seen too much.”

“Oh,” Astra snorted. “And what has she seen lately? When was the last time she visited Ellume? Or Celene? The Middle Villages? She hasn’t met with anyone since I’ve been old enough to protest. Her court is dissolving outside of this city. She’s out of touch.”

Her father took this in, always careful to weigh every word that left his lips—one of the few traits his daughter hadn’t inherited from him, for better or worse.

“Things are not always as they appear, Astra. Your mother is beholden to thousands of lives. That’s not a responsibility many could bear.”

“And yet she will not allow any of us to take up any of the weight.”

“Perhaps you both could spend some time reacquainting yourselves with one another. You’ve both constructed stories that aren’t necessarily true.

” Nayson rose, kissing her one more time, lest she escape from the hall and never come back, and smiled warmly, despite the prickling in both their chests.

“Come and find me when you’ve settled in. I’ve missed our afternoon teas.”

His footsteps faded, leaving Astra alone to listen to the crash of the sea below. The only thing louder than the waves breaking against the cliffs was the all-consuming hum of the orb before her, begging her to touch it as she stared.

Perhaps many of the narratives she’d been taught her entire life needed to be pulled apart at the seams.