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Chapter Six

A meera raised an eyebrow as the maiden held out her hands, a velvet garment bag suspended in the air between them.

“Who is it from?”

The maiden only shrugged, handing a pale green card over before disappearing. Ameera hung the bag on the edge of Astra’s wardrobe, unsure what to make of the gift.

“What’s that?”

“Birthday present?” Ameera suggested. She went back to adjusting the diadem over Astra’s perfectly pinned curls so the stars would halo her head like the goddess she was. Astra fidgeted in her seat as she waited with every ounce of patience she possessed, which amounted to very little.

“Go,” Ameera sighed. “I’ll fix it after you’re dressed.”

Astra leaped from her perch at her vanity and unfastened the jade ribbons at the top of the bag, revealing a green spectacle of a gown. In a second bag were several clusters of aventurine jewels—a set of earrings, a bracelet, and a necklace.

Ameera gasped. “Who in all thirteen courts?—”

“There was a card, yes?” She searched the vanity for the brief note that accompanied the gift.

In case everything you own is wet.

—M.

Ameera arched her brow. “Is that the Mercurian seal? What do they mean by wet?”

“You don’t want to be an accomplice,” Astra muttered, fighting a smile as it begged to break on her lips. “Mother won’t be too disappointed if I wear this over her selection, right? To secure an alliance?”

“Are you kidding? She’ll arrange the engagement by the end of the evening.”

Astra’s blood rushed to her cheeks. “That’s not—no. She has to know that’s not going to happen.”

Ameera’s forehead wrinkled. “You’re no longer in your maiden cycle. She needs allies. What did you think tonight was about, As?”

“I can’t think about that right now,” she hissed, forcing the well of anxiety that opened within her closed. “I need to focus on getting down those stairs.”

Ameera snorted, returning to the dress to loosen the laces.

She helped Astra slide it over her curved hips, tightening the ribbons to highlight the long lines of her tall frame.

Astra battled back all the swirling fears in her chest—her mother wanted allies, but surely she would focus on Lunelle first. Her upcoming coronation trial would require several champions to be selected.

There was no reason to waste one on Astra now.

No, she needn’t spend any more energy on that.

As the laces around her waist pulled, last night’s dream raced forward in her mind. That heat… the same heat from the Midwood before. Her eyes glanced at the reflection in the mirror, falling to the pale wound on her upper arm.

That orb did not materialize in the court by accident.

If Solarians were infiltrating through the wards meant to stop them, there could be any number of them lurking in the realm. Perhaps they were waiting for an event such as this evening’s ball to strike.

“Ameera,” Astra said, breaking her friend’s concentration as she fluffed layers of tulle and silk.

“Hmm?”

“What do you know about Solarians?”

Ameera stopped her movements, rising to meet Astra’s gaze. “Less than you, I’m sure.”

“In the woods yesterday, when I was trying to source more information from the orb… I felt something in the trees. Something very, very warm.”

Ameera immediately shifted into solutions mode. “Anyone not from the Lunar Court feels warm to you, no?”

“You do,” she admitted. Ameera’s Venusian heritage certainly read as warmer to her than her own cool Lunar skin. “But not like this. Not so extreme.”

“When you meet with the Mercurians this evening, pay attention. They’re even closer to the Solar Court than we are. Perhaps you ran into one of their courtiers in the woods, they could have arrived earlier to explore?”

“Perhaps,” Astra conceded. It was true that she would know more about her Solarian counterparts than Ameera, but even that knowledge was quite limited.

It was somewhat taboo to discuss openly, given how many courtiers were impacted by Solan’s last attack.

She knew that their warmth was a warning—a siren song to the humans of the Living Courts, but a death rattle to Lunarians.

A constant reminder of what they’d lost. What they still stood to lose.

But it was more than their physical repulsions.

Stoicism was a shared value amongst the monarchs of each court, but beneath the robes and crowns, the two couldn’t be more different.

The rigid natures rooted in proven logic and facts of Solarians often butted up against the softer, more intuitive minds of the Lunar Court.

Political differences aside, the chasm between their ethos on just about any other facet of life would drive them apart at best, to madness at worst.

“You look lovely,” Ameera sighed, smoothing the last ruffle on Astra’s gown.

“Thank you.”

“Are you ready for your debut?”

“Don’t call it that,” Astra muttered.

“Question stands.” Ameera folded her arms over her chest.

Astra inhaled, letting the air cool the burning fears in her spine, fighting the urge to escape from a window and run off into the Rift, despite her lack of knowledge about how to traverse it.

“Born ready,” she laughed, hearing the wobble in her false confidence.

* * *

“One last touch,” Ameera said, fussing with Astra’s hair outside of the Celestial Hall’s mezzanine.

The crowd below buzzed and hummed with dozens of feelings so intensely Astra could see the colors from outside the room. Her family waited at the bottom of the staircase, she could sense their unique signatures on their feelings—or in her mother’s case, the lack thereof.

She’d practiced this entrance all morning with Ameera, but they’d planned on a slinky silk dress, not a bejeweled ballgown with dozens of layers. The weight was staggering.

“Just a little something so you truly shine,” Ameera whispered, puffing a fine mist over Astra’s collarbones.

“That’s fun,” Astra murmured, marveling at the way her skin lit up.

“Archera and I found it in the village market last Summer.”

“Tell me everything. Spare no detail—even if it takes all night!” Astra begged. Ameera rolled her eyes, backing away.

“She’s ready,” she directed to the maidens guarding the mezzanine door. They pulled the heavy stone doors back, a rush of whirling sound and color flooding over the marble floor and clutching Astra’s hem. The wave hushed as the High Priestess motioned Astra forward.

“Astra Leona Aurellis, born on her mother’s thirty-seventh Strawberry Moon, princess of the Lunar Court. May the Mother bless her within and without,” the priestess announced.

“Damn,” Ameera muttered behind her. “She forgot Fire Queen.”

Astra’s fingers twitched at the moniker, the twin nickname she shared with her sister: the Fire and Ice Queens.

As the strings below struck up a simmering melody, she stepped forward.

A collective breath from the mezzanine below knocked her back as she scanned the crowd.

For a moment, she could have sworn she’d felt a tinge of that same merciless heat from before, but she must have been anxious.

It faded quickly, replaced with a cold sweat dripping down her spine as she took in that first step.

When they’d rehearsed it earlier, the distance between the mezzanine and the ballroom floor seemed relatively short, but they hadn’t accounted for the dizzying potion of the lowered lighting and hundreds of sets of emotions.

Sizing her up.

She took the top two steps easily enough.

Comparing her to Lunelle.

The next few weren’t as gentle. The heft of the train on her dress dragged her backward.

Wondering where she’d been .

Twenty-four steps to go.

Did the music need to be so loud?

Astra watched a soft hand rise as her mother stepped forward to meet her, the only anchor point she had in this world as she descended the final steps.

Impossibly fine threads wrapped her arms as if woven by the Moon herself.

Her skirt ruffled out in great swaths of pale tulle, reflecting the candlelight in the room.

The dome above scrolled back, baring the room to the Moon above, her gentle light bathing everything in a Summer shimmer.

Gossamer curtains fluttered around each arched opening, dancing on a breeze sweetened by the wisteria and roses in the garden.

Oestera pulled her daughter gently into her side and led her across the floor as courtiers backed into a wide circle.

Their eyes locked on the two women as they stood facing each other, two ends of a spectrum.

Oestera’s chin nodded nearly imperceptibly, sending the orchestra into a flurry of high notes as Astra sucked in a breath.

It caught between her ribs as the melody stroked her cheek, a familiar trill she had not prepared for. The image materialized in her mind at once, Oestera’s silver hair piled on top of her head, rocking her slowly under a full Moon, humming the melody as she drifted to sleep.

The memory could not survive the anxiety that gripped her as Oestera stepped back, starting a series of complicated twists and turns she’d rehearsed in her younger years.

The dreamy low candlelight, the music she’d grown to, the slip of their gowns as they spun in a wide circle all came together in a mystic spell that transformed Oestera’s face.

Her cold, restrained countenance fell away, melting into something relaxed.

Relief, Astra realized.

After a few days of her best behavior, perhaps Oestera saw the potential within her daughter’s abilities and not just the devastation.

Astra set her face and shoved the pathetic hope down where she kept plenty of other weak thoughts locked away, so they never got the best of her.