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Chapter Four

I t was simply irresponsible of the queen to leave the object on the table.

At least, that’s what Astra told herself as she smuggled it under her robes and tossed it into a sack, the weight of it dragging against the black cloak she wrapped around her shoulders.

It only took a few gold coins to convince the stable maidens to let her take a midnight-black mare into the Midwood, breaking away from the watchful eyes of the palace courtiers.

Her shimmering silver mane slipped through Astra’s fingers like silk as they edged their way into a clearing where she knew every fallen log, every babbling stream.

She paused at the treeline, the wound on her shoulder still very apparent as she gripped the reins of her mount. The expanse of gnarled oaks and twisted birch hid plenty of creatures, both mystical and terrible, but now she wondered who else lurked in the shadows.

She closed her eyes, sinking beneath flesh and muscle, letting her bones have their say—would they push her into the darkness, or back into the stoic halls of the palace? The orb at her back whirred, answering before anything within her could.

She took that as enough of a sign.

Though off-putting in its tangled appearance, the Midwood had always called to her, even as a small child.

Hundreds of Lunar Queens upheld a bargain—the Midwood would act as a protective barrier to the palace as long as its inhabitants were not bound to the same strict laws around practicing magic as Lunarians were.

Anything that happened within her dark woods belonged to the Midwood’s stewards, the Lunar Elves, and their ancient queen, Ehlaria.

She had neither beginning nor ending, she always was and always would be—some stories passed down claimed she was the mother of all life in the Lunar Court, but she denied it.

Ehlaria had been through centuries of Lunar queens and seen them each through their struggles, though the last few generations had a more tenuous relationship than previous rulers.

The magic that ruled over Astra’s veins was not always a forbidden practice in the court.

It had once been commonplace—any of the women born within the court could access the flow of mystic power from their souls.

They all had the blood of their Mother Goddess pumping in their hearts.

Astra would not have been an outlier a few short centuries ago before everything crumbled.

The Lunar and Solar courts had always been enemies, really, but they’d at least been dignified about it in decades past. It was when a Lunar queen was murdered by a Solar king while traveling her inner astral realm that things got murky.

It had never happened before—the women of the Lunar Court had always felt safe exploring their deepest selves, but her death toppled centuries of tradition and ritual in favor of strict regulations and the rise of the priestesses of the court who banned any use of magic as a protective measure.

Temporarily, of course. To keep them safe, of course. That it resulted in a complete shift of power from the people to the priestesses and the royal family was merely a strange coincidence.

Of course.

Before she ventured too far into the Midwood’s marred depths, Astra reached into her cloak and pulled a small velvet pouch from her pocket. She tossed a few gold coins onto a smooth stump she’d left dozens of trinkets on over the years.

“I seek nothing but a blind eye,” she said to whatever forest spirits might be listening. A soft whoosh and clink of coins whispered through the trees, followed by silence.

She didn’t have to make it far into the woods for her safe space—though it felt less so this afternoon.

She aimed for a small meadow just far enough away from the city that she’d be unlikely to get caught practicing illegal magic, and far enough from the elusive village of the Lunar Elves that she wouldn’t be a disturbance.

She could buy the forest’s peace for a moment with her gold.

She tied up her mare, slipping off the saddle and gripping her pack as she settled into the middle of the meadow, tucking her feet beneath her.

Overturning the bag, she watched as the orb rolled away from her, still singing its inaccessible song into the fluffy ryegrass.

The moonlight above bounced off the crystal, amplifying the unbearable ethereal glow.

Before the bans, powers ranging from divination to elemental practices were honored as a gift, not shamed into compliance. She’d never been able to silence her strange alchemy of flames and intuition, despite many attempts made by her mother and the councilors.

She had no way of accessing information about her capabilities; the texts had long since gone missing, but if Astra trusted anything, it was her gut.

An onyx river opened within her chest as she mourned the knowledge she’d never have. Breathing in to still her heart, she let the song of the night larks above her lull her into an easy state.

She peered into the orb, the light warming her face.

Show me your user , she imagined herself saying, closing her eyes and letting the humming music swirl over her skin, pulling her under its spell.

Those same hands from earlier appeared again, this time more clear, without the pressure of an audience.

Foreign runes and markings crawled over his cuffs, invisible earlier, but she could make them out in the stillness.

She reached for her pack, finding a piece of charcoal and her notebook so she could sketch the lines for Ameera to research later.

Where are you? Lunelle’s voice disrupted her, the hands flickering away. She tossed the cloth back over the orb and opened her eyes, a searing warmth still prickling at her back even as she pushed it into her bag.

The woods, what’s wrong?

Mother is looking for you , Lunelle sent back.

Buy me fifteen minutes , she beamed, something in her stomach turning as the heat refused to break. She glanced at the edge of the meadow, suspicious that she wasn’t as alone as she’d hoped.

There. Across the meadow, a scarlet flare in someone’s chest as they raced between trees.

“Shit,” she muttered, springing to her feet.

She flung the bag over her shoulder and bolted for the mare, shoving her boot into the stirrup and hauling herself over her saddle in record time.

“ Shit ,” she whispered again, realizing she was still tethered to the tree.

Against her better judgment, she let the panic push a rush of flame to her fingers, allowing the sparks to burnish against the leather of the lead and sever the tie as she dug her heels into the horse’s side.

She’d deal with any witnesses later if need be.

That damned heat was still there, though the scarlet mist was no longer traceable to her alert intuition.

Every gallop back allowed her to catch her breath, the sear fading as she put space between whoever had been watching.

Nervous energy jolted through her in plumes of orange, red, and yellow.

Whether it originated in her chest or the chest she’d nearly spotted in the Midwood, she wasn’t sure.

Ameera stood waiting for her in the gardens as she dismounted, shoving what was left of the crisped lead into Ameera’s hands. Her eyes creased, unhappy with the state of Astra’s attire and demeanor as she rushed to right herself.

“Your mother?—”

“Yes, yes, I’ve already been informed,” Astra tapped her forehead, rolling her eyes.

“I forgot how hard managing you was,” Ameera huffed.

Astra laughed darkly. “I’d be happy to relieve you of your duty, but alas. I’m staying.”

“Why is this so heavy?” Ameera asked as she picked up Astra’s pack. “Gods above, Astra, if there’s a severed head in here?—”

“If there was, wouldn’t you be at least a little proud?”

“As!”

Astra ran her fingers through her hair, loosening her curls from the braid she’d kept it in. She needed to feel less restricted if she was going to face her mother again so soon.

“It’s the orb from earlier. My notebook is in there as well. I traced some runes from the owner’s cuffs. They’re completely unfamiliar to me, but perhaps you might recognize them?”

Ameera nodded, absorbing what she said and cataloging everything in her library of a mind. “Your mother is in her study.”

Astra squeezed her eyes shut, preparing herself for another round of Astra versus Oestera.

The last time they’d faced off, it ended in Celene.

But this time, she was older, a more seasoned leader.

She’d cut her teeth in the city and she’d learned so much more restraint than she’d had three Summers ago.

She burned her way out of her maidenhood the moment she’d seen Celene’s neglected shores and the dilapidated villages across the court.

Her mother may not make time for them, but she’d spent every moment of her exile listening and learning about their needs, and solving their problems alongside them.

Her mother may not see it right away, but she wasn’t the girl who left Lunaria.

An amber sense of power bubbled to life in her chest as she wove her way through the halls. Surely, Oestera would see her growth and hear her out.

She had to.

* * *

“Princess,” a maiden outside of Oestera’s personal study nodded as Astra approached under the crystal arch framing her parents’ wing of the palace. Her gleaming eyes fell to Astra’s fingers, still warm from her escape in the Midwood.

The shame was violent as it crashed over Astra.

She set her shoulders back and flashed a saccharine smile as she wiggled her fingers between them.

“No theatrics. Promise.” A ripple of yellow uncertainty flared in the maiden’s ribs as her gaze dropped to the floor beside them, landing on a metallic cistern at her feet.

Astra scoffed. “Misty Mother above,” she muttered. “Is that… is that in case I set something on fire?”