This time, I drew as the background the garden where I go when I need to reflect. The blooms there are called selari. They’re not native to our planet, but they’ve rooted here so long they may as well be. Their petals spiral outward in layers like the old flame scrolls of the southern archives—velvety and sharp-edged. They shimmer in twilight, glowing faintly when the second sun begins to dip below the horizon. Their scent is subtle but persistent, like smoke laced with sweetness. When crushed, it clings to your skin for hours. It’s said the selari only open for those whose hearts are true, but I think that’s court poetry. I’ve seen them open for me on my worst days, when I’ve doubted myself the most.
They calm me. Just one breath of their sweet fragrance and the weight on my chest lightens.
Do you have anything like that on Earth?
I’ll have a garden’s worth waiting for you when you arrive.
The blue flowers you see are called virellas. They only bloom under moonlight. I used to sneak out as a boy just to watch them open. I still do, when the palace weighs too heavy.
The gardens are private, family only. I have never brought anyone here. Never sketched it for another’s eyes. Never told anyone that I bury my hands in the soil when I feel like I’m losing myself.
I am not proud of that. It’s a weakness I hate to admit. But you asked for honesty, and it is only fair that I give what I ask from you.
You see, Stardust, I was not always sure I would find you.
Most in our realm bond young. By the time I reached my tenth solar, the court began to whisper. By my twentieth, they had stopped whispering and began openly questioning. They thought the bond would skip me. That something in me was…broken. That perhaps I was deemed unworthy by the stars to have a fated mate.
When I took up the mantle of heir, the council accepted it. But not without hesitation. They say that an unbonded ruler is unstable. That without a mate, one can never be whole. I have always led as though I had nothing to prove, but I tell you now: I have spent solars afraid that they were right.
And then, you.
You with your stubborn will and your fire and your fierce heart. You who writes back with sharp words and colorful secrets. You who saw the sunrise and painted yourself in return, as if to say, “I belong in your world, too.” You do. Stardust, you do.
You are my proof.
My bond.
My queen, if you’ll have me.
And if not—if all I ever have are your letters and your drawings and this ache in my chest—then I will still count myself luckier than most. Because for the first time in my life, I feel seen not as a prince, or a warrior, or an heir. But as a man.
Yours.
—Orion
Orion,
Selari.
Even the name sounds like something out of a dream. I’ve never seen a flower that glows. Or one that chooses who it opens for. That’s beautiful. Magical. Yours sounds far more poetic than what we have here. To me, selari look like roses.
Roses grew all over the backyard in my childhood home. My father loved them. He would talk to them when I was a kid. He said that made them open and smile at you. I’ve always liked watching them bloom. They’re thorny and temperamental—kind of like me—but when they open, they don’t hold anything back. They give everything. All color. All scent. No apology.
Thank you for sharing that place with me. Your garden. Your drawing. Yourself. I can’t express how much it means to me. I’m not used to people opening up to me. People think I’m prickly, remember.
My ex used to tell me I was too much and not enough in the same breath. Too independent. Not emotional enough. Too driven. Too passive.
I don’t know why I’m talking about him. I was never in love with Matt. I just kept him around because I didn’t want to be alone. But being with him made me feel more alone than ever. When I caught him cheating, I just shrugged and walked away.
When I found out he was dating my cousin, I didn’t even roll my eyes. I think I may have wrinkled my nose because ew, cooties. I know she has a certain STD because I saw her medication once when I was at her mom’s house, which is why if I ever found out she dated a guy, I would steer clear.
Bebe, that’s my cousin, she’s always felt like she had to compete with me. If I got an A, she had to get an A+. Those are evaluations we get as children in school. The plus is the higher mark. If I got a doll, she had to get two. If I made a friend, she had to steal them away. I don’t know why she couldn’t have just been my friend, or borrowed my dress, or studied academics with me. I would’ve welcomed it as a kid. I want nothing to do with her now.
You know what does make me sad, though? My entire family is going to celebrate the union of my cheating ex and my self-declared rival cousin. And they all expect me to get on board with it and even toast them. Well, everyone except my best friend and my dad.
My best friend should be here any day now. Liberty will likely write you a long, detailed, intrusive letter. She’s going to make you pass a test to prove you’re worthy of me. You should be afraid.
My dad? He’s great. He’s the most supportive guy in the whole world. He has to be to put up with my mother, who he looks at like she hung the stars. I think you two would like each other. Did I mention I’m staying in his old cabin? It’s on an observatory where I get a clear view of all the stars. Dad’s an astronomer. His research actually pushed the field forward. There’s a minor star named after him, and he discovered three exoplanets.
