Eda has never seen life outside of Asterism, a haven to most but a prison to her. Closely watched by her mother and her assigned Guardian, Alstroe, she lives a perfect, protected life, until all she knows is destroyed by Aries, a man who will stop a...
"Place them with the rest of the captives," Aries commanded with a rough push forward.
He took a step toward the grand staircase, a beautiful piece of architecture that held fresh bouquets of flowers from the banisters and a pressed red velvet rug against the mahogany wood steps. For twenty years, I crossed that staircase each morning and night. It led to the private rooms of Ethereals. To my bedroom. To the Matron's corridors and study.
To my mother.
"Where is the Matron?" I rushed out, suddenly unable to keep the panic out of my voice. "What did your soldiers do to her, Aries?"
The prince turned on the heels of his leather boots, facing me. Although he stood feet away, he closed the distance by boring his strange golden gaze into me.
I wasn't scared. I refused to be scared. He was the man responsible for this, for the ruin of my people. For the first time in my life, I wanted to see someone torn apart. I wanted to see him pay for all this useless fury. I wanted to take the trowel hiding in my tunic and dig in where his neck met his collarbone.
As if he could read my thoughts, his gaze zeroed in on me and his dark brows creased downward. Suddenly, quicker than what seemed possible, he appeared an inch before me, standing a head over my own. His hands, cold and wet from the rain, roughly grabbed my chin.
"Get your hands off of her!" Alstroe screamed. Two soldiers appeared at his side, the woman from before and his captor. They were prepared for his strength and grabbed his shoulders a millisecond before he lurched uselessly forward.
"You know, I am not used to eye contact," Aries whispered, ignoring my Guardian's cries. "You are strange. What is your name?"
"Her name is Delphine," Alstroe answered before I could reveal my status as Andromeda, daughter of the Matron, heir to the throne of Asterism. "And she speaks out of concern for our Matron and her daughter. She is Guardian to Andromeda. Her worries are well placed."
"I was not asking you, boy," Aries said, though he couldn't be more than a handful of years older than Alstroe. "What is your name?"
I swallowed hard and forced the lie through gritted teeth. "You can hear, can you not? My name is Delphine."
"Of course you are," he said. "The damned Matron gave her strongest Guardian to her daughter. Brilliant. Take them to the rest."
***
We were forced into the banquet hall, the only enclosed space with enough space to fit the whole castle. The room was colored in several shades of light green and orange, and delicate golden trimmings decorated every available corner. Tethered to the high coffered ceiling, candles lit up a four-tiered chandieler. There was only one way of entry aside for the eight grand windows that lined the walls, and two soldiers stood post with swords drawn.
All of Asterism's people – men, women, and children – were clustered together, some bleeding, some wounded enough to be prone on the floor in a twisted mess of limbs, and those healthy enough to offer help were busy creating makeshift bandages from clothes and pouring the water from flower vases over bleeding cuts. Once we entered the room, no one looked me in the eyes or bowed their heads, refusing to recongize me as the daughter of the Matron. This must be the first step of a siege – to lose faith in your leaders. Alstroe shepherded me to the furtherest corner and guided me to the floor.
Beside us, other Guardians huddled together, and between them sat Delphine, the namesake of my lie. She was dressed in a set of my night clothes, a long-sleeved black silk dress and an emerald green robe. Over her head was one of my favorite scarves wrapped tightly around her hair, but I could see at the edges of her forehead sprouted fiery red locks, the identical color as mine.
"Her hair--" I began, but Alstroe sent his elbow lightly into my ribcage. Delphine was known for her long, golden curls, which she kept plaited loosely against her skull.
Around her, Guardians whispered into the air and kept their hands flush against her body. I knew what they were doing. My mother and Alstroe had done it many times before, using Dust to conceal my true hair color and transforming it into the inky shade of a raven.
"Delphine, what are you doing?" I rushed out and took her hand in mine. Her skin buzzed from the electricity of the Guardian's words.
She shook her head and then glanced at the soldiers. "I am Andromeda."
"Delphine, stop this," I whispered. This time, I took her by the biceps and shook her, as if a good rattle would clear her head of this insane idea. "Is my mother forcing you to do this? Whatever they want with me, I can take it."
"It is not your place to decide, Eda," she replied with a small smile. I hated that – that even under siege, while my people lay corralled like animals by strangers, my safety was still imperative to the Guardians.
"No, stop it," I commanded. "All of you, stop it or I will reveal myself to the guards this instant." All they needed was a quick glance at what hid underneath my scarf. No one in all six kingdoms had heard of an Ethereal with red hair. There were plenty of humans who shared a similar trait, but none were so vibrant as mine. It was a stark red, a color that matched wild flames. It was an immediate identifier, which is why my mother forced me to conceal it and transfigure the shade when a scarf would look out of place.
"If you dare to pull your scarf down, I will kill you myself," Alstroe breathed into my ear.
I meant to reply just as harshly, but the shrill screams of my mother pulled my attention toward the entrance of the banquet hall. Kept down by three soldiers and their blades, the Matron fought desperately. Plumes of Dust flew around her as she deflected each swing of a sword. Her white hair glowed from the power she pulled from the sky, transforming her into something otherworldly, something that looked closer to a star than a person. Her tall, lean body drowned in a silver nightdress; the fine layered silk billowed around her twisting body, and with each swing of a sword, another spot of red blossomed on the fabric.
Alstroe's fingers twisted around my shoulder, forcing me to stay where I sat, crumpled uselessly on the polished sleet tile.
Once she was knocked onto the floor, forced down like a hunted animal, the Matron stared up, past the soldiers who loomed over her and the ceiling that separated her from the night sky. She called to the stars by pulling her hands into tight fists. Each twitch of her finger meant another particle of Dust collected.
"Mother," I whispered. Alstroe's grip tightened.
"Are you going to stop fighting, Matron?" the familiar voice of Aries boomed. "Or must I make you?"
Before my mother could spit the blood out of her mouth to speak, the heir to the throne of Axis Mundi drew the Bow of Artemis and leveled its arrow between the Matron's eyes.
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