Page 62 of Wings of Starlight

Honestly,Clarion thought. Scouts and their determined stoicism. Perhaps it was unprofessional to push the matter, but her well-being mattered to Clarion. “You deserve recognition, too, you know.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Artemis said hastily. “I have done my best to help in the small ways I can. All I want is the good of Pixie Hollow.”

Clarion turned away from her own reflection and fixed Artemis with a meaningful look. No one could truly be so selfless. “But you want more than that.”

Artemis hesitated. “I suppose I do.”

For the second time in all the years they’d known each other, Clarion had dragged Artemis to the very edge of her vulnerability. She did not know if she could convince her to take the leap. She perched on the edge of her bed and placed her chin in her hands. “Once, you told me that you’d led with your heart over your head. That’s why you were assigned to be my guard. What happened, exactly?”

For a moment, Clarion thought she might change the subject entirely. But Artemis heaved a long sigh and settled on the bed beside her. The mattress dipped beneath her weight. Artemis sat with her spine rigidly straight and her hands clasped over her knees.

“Back when I first arrived in Pixie Hollow,” she said, “there was something of an ongoing situation. A hawk had happened upon us and tried to establish its territory in the Autumn Forest. None of the animal-talents could manage it or convince it to go elsewhere, so it was up to the scouts to handle the danger it posed.

“I was something of a firebrand back then.” At this, Clarion suppressed a snort of laughter. Artemis gave her a wry smile, but it faded quickly. “I’d gotten into a skirmish with it—and I was poised to drive it off. I had it in my sights, after me and a friend in my unit cornered it. But she’d underestimated her pixie dust ration. She fell.”

Fairies’ wings could not support their weight without pixie dust. And if they were battling a hawk, no doubt they’d found themselves high above the forest floor.

“Oh,” Clarion murmured.

Artemis bowed her head, and her black hair curtained her face. “I saved her—but I let our target go. Others were lost as a result of my mistake. My superiors determined that I was not levelheaded enough to make the right decisions in battle. My instincts meant that I was better suited for guard duty.”

A good queen must focus on the task at hand,Elvina had said once,andhelp at scale.

Her heart lurched at the pain in Artemis’s voice, a pain Clarion knew intimately. She could not have turned her back on someone she could have saved, either. Was that really what it meant to be responsible and levelheaded? To protect the hypothetical many over the one in front of you?

“I’m not sure I would call that amistake,” Clarion said softly.

Artemis looked up at her, a startled hope shining in her eyes. Had no one ever absolved her of this? Soon enough, Clarion would be able to officially reinstate her. She’d been punished—and she’d punished herself—for long enough.

“I don’t know that I would have done any differently. It was brave, what you did.” Clarion knocked her shoulder against Artemis’s. “You have a good heart, Artemis. We need more fairies like you in the scouts.”

A faint smile curled on Artemis’s lips. Haltingly, as though she did not trust herself to speak, she said, “That’s kind of you to say.”

Clarion returned the smile. “It’s true.”

Before Artemis could reply, another knock sounded on the door.

“It’s me.”

Clarion brightened at the sound of Petra’s voice. It was something of a tradition for them to get ready for balls together, but between their schedules and the tension over Winter, she hadn’t known whether to expect her.

“The door’s open,” Clarion called.

Petra entered the room, and Clarion felt as much as she heard Artemis’s sharp intake of breath. She could not blame her. Petra was always beautiful—but tonight, she was utterly resplendent. The bodice of her gown was fitted, but the skirt flared into graceful tiers of ivy. Her red curls had been tamed and gathered into an elegant knot at the nape of her neck, with a few ringlets artfully framing her face.

When Petra’s gaze landed on Artemis, she let out a strangled sound of surprise. Artemis rose to her feet automatically, and the two of them stared across the room at each other in silent awe. It took all of Clarion’s strength to refrain from commenting. Instead, she moved from her bed to her vanity.

Artemis broke the silence first. “You look…nice.”

A flush crawled up Petra’s neck, and self-conscious panic overtook her. She nearly stumbled into the wall behind her. “What? Why do you say that? Is there something on my face?”

“No, I…” Artemis blinked, clearly unsure how to handle the situation. “I said it because I meant it.”

“Right.” Petra still looked deeply skeptical—but almost pleased.

“So,” Clarion interjected.

Both of them startled, as though they’d forgotten she was there entirely.