“Oh, yes. Forgive me for comparing her to Aurea, but—”
“There’s nothing wrong with Aurea.” I clenched my teeth, too late to stop my sharp tone.
“No, she’s a lovely person.” Cael’s voice held nothing but kindness. “Just not the right person for you. You need someone with more bite.”
My gaze drifted to Emmeline as she leaned against the railing, gown rippling in the wind. She certainly had bite, and I cherished her insults and her fearlessness.
Uneasiness settled in my stomach. Was Cael right? Had I found my perfect match? Emmeline had only come to the moon for the heist. She would return to Earth once it was over. I’d already planned out our public argument and the story I would tell everyone to explain our breakup.
And Emmeline couldn’t be my perfect match because I didn’t have one. I was a ruthless killer for the Crown. No one could love that.
“I envy you,” Cael said softly, which just gave me another reason to worry. If Cael turned out like Drudon…
Cael chuckled. “Calm down. I promise I won’t turn into your brother.”
I realized I was stooping and straightened up. Sometimes I thought the royals must have some kind of mind-reading magic. I’d never spoken to him about Drudon. It wasn’t a topic I cared to discuss with anyone.
“If you turn into my brother, it might put off your admirers,” I said lightly. “He’s an ugly son of a troll.”
“Yes, he looks a lot like you. But you’re avoiding the subject.”
“Which is?”
He rolled his eyes. “You’ve told me about how Drudon’s eaten up by resentment over you.”
“When?” I demanded.
“Oh, years ago.” He waved airily. “After the Celestial Alignment Ceremony, I think.”
Well, that explained it. I’d gotten stupendously drunk that night.
“And even if you hadn’t told me, it’s not hard to figure out.” He raised an eyebrow at something behind me. “He’s been glowering at you through the window for the past ten minutes.”
“Son of a—” I fought the urge to turn around. “Is he this obnoxious when he’s guarding Aristoph?”
“Aristoph’s obnoxiousness is so profound that it eclipses all others.”
Cael’s expression turned dark, and I wondered whether to broach the topic or leave it alone.
“And how is Lady Lurena?” I asked carefully.
“Trying to pretend she’s delighted by the arrangement. Though if Aunt Regula betrothed her to a flesh-eating squid monster, she’d act just the same.”
Princess Regulawouldmarry off her daughter to a flesh-eating squid monster if she thought it would advance her agenda.
“I—”
Emmeline’s gasp cut me off. The first lanterns had just been released.
They rose in magnificent waves from the amphitheater, the coordinated release creating an aurora that danced between the city’s spires. Grand lanterns shaped like miniature palaces, celestial bodies, and butterflies and birds took to the air. The noble houses had commissioned them from master craftsmen,spending small fortunes as they tried to outdo one another. A petty competition, but at least they put on a good show.
All around the city, people released their personal lanterns. Smaller and made of paper, each one carried a person’s wish inside. I remembered my family releasing one when I was a child, my mother, Drudon, and I all taking turns writing our wishes. Drudon and I had joined forces, thinking that if we both wished for a pegasus, we’d have double the chance of our wish being granted.
Lanterns drifted by the Lightspire, the giant crystal monument’s illusionary magic seeming to multiply them, the duplicates shifting through every color of the rainbow. That, too, only brought back memories. Drudon and I used to play tag at the monument, laughing as we chased each other’s doppelgangers.
Sometimes I could hardly believe he’d changed so much. Other times I wondered if he’d ever been the kind boy I remembered at all.
Before melancholy could consume me, Emmeline moved to my side, the warmth of her body a shield against the chill night. She gave me a smile, though her heart didn’t seem in it. When she looked back out at the city, I realized why.
