And roving—down the dress. One of the Elites cleared his throat and Eadric’s eyes snapped back up, sheepish. A faint blush had worked its way up his neck, perfectly matching Luna’s.
“Doesn’t she just look stunning in gold?” Asterin asked, gleeful.
“But she always looks stunning,” Eadric said, confusion crinkling his brow, so genuine and honest that Luna hid her face behind Asterin’s shoulder in embarrassment. One of the Elites awwed. Without so much as a glance, the captain said, “One hundred push-ups, Jack.” The aww deflated into a quiet grumble. “Make that two hundred!”
Asterin surveyed her Elites, eyes lingering on the two empty spots at both ends of the row—five males and five females traditionally made up the guard, but she was currently missing two.
“All right, that’s enough for tonight for the rest of you,” Eadric said. “Clean everything away and patch yourselves up before bed. And if I hear about any buffoonery, I’ll have you running ten laps around the palace every morning for the next week. Do I make myself clear?”
“He’s such a mother hen,” Luna murmured with a fond sigh, just loud enough for Asterin to hear.
Eadric nodded as the Elites drowned out Jack’s grunts of “Thirty-three … thirty-four …” with their choruses of “Yes, sir!”
“Dismissed,” he said. Then he extended an arm to Luna. “Shall we?”
As the three of them wound their way back to the palace, Asterin hung back, perfectly content to behold the couple from a distance. Eadric’s chest puffed as Luna raised onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. The hardness in his face transformed to soft wonder every time she beamed at him.
Then Eadric halted in his tracks, staring upward. “Is that a staircase made of ice?”
“Yep.” Asterin skirted past him and began climbing.
“What if it melted while you were on it?” the captain spluttered.
“Don’t be silly, Eadric,” Luna said, following suit. “Asterin’s ice doesn’t melt.”
He rubbed his temples. “So this is how you’ve been duping your guards?”
Asterin paused her ascent to glare down at him. “My guards are oafs.”
At that, the captain held his hands up in surrender. “It’s not my fault your mother ordered General Garringsford to assign you palace guards until we can fill complete rank for the Elites.”
Asterin just shook her head. “Are you coming or not?” She peered down to see Eadric eyeing the staircase dubiously.
“What?” Luna asked, confused.
“I’m taking the palace stairs, like a normal person,” Eadric declared, and dashed off.
“Boring,” Asterin said. Luna hummed in agreement.
Once they had safely arrived back in her chambers, Asterin commanded the staircase to liquefy. It streamed into the flower bed below.
Luna laughed. “No wonder those flowers look extra perky.” A firm knock drew them toward the entrance to Asterin’s chambers.
“—and both of you are incompetent,” Eadric was berating the guards stationed outside when Luna opened the door. Both girls sighed, pulling him in by the arm and shutting the door. His expression turned serious as he turned to Asterin. “Your Highness, I just ran into a messenger. You’ve been summoned to Throne Hall.”
Asterin made a face. “At this hour? By whom?”
“Your mother. Apparently, you’ve been sent a gift … from the Queen of Eradore.”
Eradore. A starkly beautiful land on the opposite side of the globe, shrouded in mystery and magic. Other than the royal family, only special guests, residents, and students of the world-renowned Academia Principalis, the best school of magic, were permitted to cross into the inner city of the kingdom’s capital, Eradoris.
Luna frowned. “I thought I heard that their queen passed away recently.”
“It must be Queen Lillian’s daughter, then,” Asterin said thoughtfully. “What sort of gift?”
“I’d be guessing,” Eadric admitted.
Asterin stood, but fingers locked around her wrist and tugged her back. “You can’t go in that!” Luna cried, gesturing to her outfit.
Asterin raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with trousers?”
“Not the trousers, the blouse. The sleeve is still ripped from the time you fell out of that tree.”
Eadric took on a pained expression. “You fell out of a tree?”
Luna shooed him out the door and dragged Asterin back into the bedchamber. When she at last allowed the princess to depart, clad in a slim-fitting cobalt overcoat with pearlescent embroidery and sleek navy trousers, Eadric was nowhere in sight. Shrugging, Asterin sauntered down the staircase, hands slung in her pockets as she headed for Throne Hall.
His deep voice jumped out from behind her. “Your Highness.”
She almost hook-kicked him in the face. “Damn it, Eadric.” She had a vague sense it was his small retribution for the tree-climbing fiasco.
The ghost of a smile flickered on her captain’s face as he fell into step beside her. “My apologies.”
They had almost reached Throne Hall when General Garringsford rounded the corner, blocking the corridor. “Your Highness.”
“General,” Asterin said, eyes flicking to that perfect bun, every strand perfectly in place, as usual. “How are you faring?”
“Your concern is very touching, Your Highness,” she answered, voice too low for Asterin to discern the exact level of sarcasm. “The healers patched me up just fine. I do believe I owe you an apology.” She smiled, nearly as sharp as the glint in her flint-gray eyes. “I underestimated you.”
Asterin’s fists clenched in her pockets. “No hard feelings.”
“None at all. Anyway, your mother requested that I fetch you.”
“Her Majesty requested that I escort Her Highness,” Eadric said, voice flat; whatever had been left of his good mood vanishing. “Ma’am,” he added.
“Is that so?” Garringsford inquired. “Well—”
“How about you both escort me?” Asterin snapped. “We’re almost there, anyway.”
“Your posture is sloppy, Covington,” said the general. “Fix it at once.”
Eadric’s jaw twitched. “Yes, ma’am.”
They arrived at the entrance to Throne Hall, six of Queen Priscilla’s guards snapping to attention outside the massive double doors. Asterin had spent hours as a child staring in awe at those doors while her father held court within. Hundreds of wolves had been carved into the dark oak, prowling down a mountain toward a lake. On the left, Lord Conrye rose above the peaks, wielding his legendary greatsword, Vürst—Frost, in the mortal tongue. Now Asterin’s height matched that of the blade. Below, the ice god’s wolf form rippled in the lake’s reflection. Once, she thought that she had caught the piercing eyes of both human and wolf moving, though of course no one had believed her.