Rosie and Clara would have to be there too—they’ve become such regulars in our lives, it wouldn’t be right to have a big event without them. I pause, breathing a little heavier with each step, the joints in my arms and legs throbbing with signs of exhaustion I choose to ignore.
“There you are, my darling.” Queen Plume opens her arms, beckoning me close. The surrounding guards stiffen at our embrace but say nothing “Are you sure you are up to the task today? You looked unwell last night in the drawing room.”
“Ah yeah, no, I’m sorry. I’m ready to go today. Noworries!”
“Of course.” She claps her hands and the castle attendants scatter, someliterallyflying into the wind to complete today’s tasks. “Then letus begin.”
In the past week, I’ve consumed more gluten than in my entire life. I don’t think it’s affecting me. I mean, I’m extra tired, and extra foggy, and honestly uncomfortably bloated, but that could be just normal stress, right? Wouldn’t it be rude not to accept the countless treats offered by nobility? I’ve always hated talking to chefs and asking questions about menus. When I was an influencer, it was often part of the job, but now? I’m in too deep and feel like it would be weird to say something.
Not to mention, everything tastesso good.
Queen Plume takes me around each event; when she introduces me, I feel like either her beloved future daughter-in-law, personal assistant, or a puppy who dares not stray too far—not that I’d want to. I’m getting used to being in the Moth Court, but that doesn’t mean I’m getting used to the lords and ladies and their looks of disapproval. Holding my head high and standing in my place next to Queen Plume is hard when they’re all sneering and whispering under their breath.
You’re not worthy of him.
It’s the subtext of every look and snide comment. The people have accepted Moth back into their world with open arms, but me? I’m no one here. And sure, I can keep proving myself to Queen Plume, but what good is that going to do if my public approval is at an all-time low? It’s not just Moth’s family I have to impress—it’s an entire kingdom. I’ve seen how relationships in my realm work for royal families, and I have a feeling it’s going to be a million times worse in Eclipsica. Whatever the equivalent to a gossip blog is here, I’m sure it’s not pretty. But for Moth’s sake, it’s all going to beworth it.
Helping Queen Plume plan the ball is tiring, but no worse than planning one of my mom’s elaborate holiday parties. Plus, it’s brought us close enough for her to share some massive secrets with me. Secrets that are making my insides feel like an energy drink that’s been shaken and will explode when the tabis pulled.
Just a few more days,I remind myself.
It’s a long morning of overseeing décor, responding to letters, and selecting gowns for the next events. Everything for the queen is custom with her wings always covered in the same detailed fabrics. I’ve seen fellow ladies of the Court do the same, but why? I understand fashion doesn’t always make sense(hello, skinny jeans)but why this style? I’d understand if it were a custom, religious practice, or cultural belief, but this seems purely aesthetic. Maybe it’s just me being new here, but I can’t get over how weighed down everyone looks. My wings are heavy enoughas it is.
When Moth finds the two of us taste-testing cakes in the kitchen and attempts to steal me away, I’m surprised when his mother protests. I was sure I must be getting on her nerves with the countless questions I’ve had about … well, everything. There’s still so much about this world I don’t know about, and god forbid I make a fool of myself at the grand ball.
“Heather has had a long day,” Moth says, his arm encompassing my waist in a feeble attempt to pull me away from my newfound party planning duties.
“It’s no big! Your mom and I have been having a blast,” I say, trying to wave away his concerns. “Plus, I’m sure there are more embarrassing childhood stories I needto hear.”
A gentle sigh leaves his lips. “With the gaps in my memory, I fear I will not be able to defend myself.”
His mother laughs, laying her gold-freckled hand on his.“Perfect.”
Oh, Ilike her.
She comes to life with each story. She laughs as she tells me about Moth and Holly running down the halls of the castle; they’d climb trees and perform skits and songs, him on the piano, of course. The two spent hours in the library—Moth scribbling in his journals and Holly building castles with old tomes about magic. Sometimes, Pepper and Ruby would be around, but honestly? It sounds like the two of them spent a lot of timetogether.
No wonder Holly fought so hard to get her older brother back. It sounds like she really looked up to him.
“They’d run all over the crystal caves, bringing me back little gemstones that had fallen astray.” She smiles, and I can’t help but wish I could see it all. They had a lively life in these halls together. As someone with no siblings, I find myself a little wistful while listening to their adventures.
“That’s the second time I’ve heard about these caverns. I’m having a hard time picturing them. I don’t think we really have anything like that back home.”
“Then it would be my delight to show you.” She squeezes my hand in a motherly gesture that makes me feel comfortable and homesick all at thesame time.
“I will join you.” Moth walks in step with the two of us. Queen Plume’s smile does not waver, but I catch a flash of something I can’t place in her eyes. Shouldn’t she be excited to spend more time with her son?
“Very well,” she murmurs, offering an arm to each of us. “Let us go.”
14.
The crystal caves are more hive-like than I expected. As we enter the massive opening of the cavern, tiny bee-like insects sparkle around us. They would be cute if they weren’t so big and pokey.
“This is … wow.” Andwowis an understatement.
Honeycomb structures climb to the tops of the caves with bright gold outlines and crystals glistening from every angle. God, I wish I had my camera. It would make for one hell of a Photo ofthe Day.
“You used to love exploring here with your sister. Oak and Lady Ruby would join you occasionally if my memory serves me.” Queen Plume guides us through the entryway. “Lady Ruby more often. Oak spent even his earliest days apprenticing under his father—a painter he has long surpassed with his talents.” A few workers harvesting crystals stop to bow as we pass them, but unlike a mining cave, the sounds that fill the space are the quiet buzzing of bees and conversation.
