Prologue
SummerSolstice
Twenty-two years prior…
She came when the sun was at its highest in the sky.
I woke and marveled at the beautiful summer day, at how the sky seemed more blue, the meadows just past the castle more green as pops of purple, red, yellow, and white dotted the landscape. Drinking tea from my balcony, the warm air brushing against my cheek, I had thought to myself that it was a lovely day for this baby to arrive. And maybe it was luck or something more serendipitous, but the moment the thought flitted from my mind, the first pains of labor began.
The midwives warn me that it will be difficult as they prepare the bed for me to lay in, explaining that a baby’s preference is to stay in the womb. They make it sound violent, like each push by my body is the equivalent of yanking my baby away from the only comfort and safety she has known for months and months. In truth, it terrifies me to know that her first moments after crossing the veil from womb to world will be filled with pain.But the birth is gentle. As if she knows it is her time to come. Between one breath and the next, she is born.She. I collapse back onto the bed, eyes shutting as joy suffuses me.
“She’s silent,” Conrad whispers to the head midwife, Lilah, from where he is sitting by my side, a hand gently brushing hair from my face.
I lift my head, looking down to where they are cleaning her, my heart thundering at the fact that he is right—it is quiet, and quiet only ushers in fear and sadness and longing. Lilah doesn’t answer, her face pinched in concentration while Conrad’s turns red, a sign of his frustration building. I lace my fingers with his, tugging on his hand until his gaze falls to my own.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, a slight edge to his voice that tells me he is asking beyond just the physical.
My eyes dart to the midwives, but they are focused on the baby, so I speak only loud enough for us to hear. “Good. The tinctures seem to be working, if only temporarily. I have not felt my magic once.” He tips my chin up to kiss me, the movement of his lips gentle. “Have you decided on a name?” I ask, smiling when his hazel eyes soften. They have always been the most expressive part of him, a fact I know he hates because it always gives his intention away before he means to. In our early days together, I had used the ability to read him as a weapon. Something to poke and prod and taunt. Now, however, I stare at my husband and see the fear and uncertainty in his eyes, and I simply want to take the burden for myself.
“You gave me two lovely options. Perhaps we should go with—”
“Here she is,” Lilah interrupts, carrying a bundle that appears to be only blankets until I see the curl of tiny fingers reaching up past the layers.
“Healthy?” Conrad asks, taking his daughter into his arms.
Lilah grins fondly, having been the one who helped Conrad’s mother deliver him. “She isperfect.”
His smile is wide as he returns his gaze to our baby girl, and I have the midwives help me sit up. He drinks in every detail of her that I cannot yet see, and when his eyes lift to meet mine, tears line them. “She’s perfect,” he repeats, finally leaning down so that I can see her. I thought I might know what to expect. That after nine months of carrying her, half of those spent feeling her move in the womb, I would know with certaintyhowto be a mother. As if the knowledge would rush in suddenly, leaving no room for doubt.
And, maybe, to a small degree that happens. When I look at her, fear still lingers beneath my skin, an incessant hum that reminds me I am now in charge of this brand-new life. But stronger than that, coursing through my veins with relentless undeniability, is love. A love unlike the one I feel with Conrad. With my parents or my friends or any other being in these realms.
Taking her into my arms, I lean down and brush my lips against her head, the golden fuzz of hair tickling my nose. Conrad’s arm wraps around my shoulders, his other finger tracing over our daughter’s cheek right where a stream of golden sunlight shines. “My little ray of sunshine,” he whispers, and I marvel at the awe in his voice. At how such a small being could soften such a powerful man—a king. “Rhea.”
“You’re sure?”
A tear slips free, painting his skin as nods. “Yes.”
My gut warms as a rightness coils through me. “Rhea,” I repeat, smiling as her eyes flutter open, like she’s answering the call of her name. I bring her closer, every part of me settling with her cradled in my arms.Rhea, I whisper in my mind. “My little sun.”
Night comes quickly, as do the return of Conrad’s duties. “My brother says it’s urgent,” he says while kissing my cheek, his fingers tucking an errant strand of honey-blonde hair behind my ear. “I will come back as soon as I can.”
I swallow as I reach for his wrist, halting his steps away from me. “I love you.” The words are foreign on my tongue, and for a moment panic surges that I shouldn’t have said them. But then Conrad’s shoulders relax—an invisible tension releasing—and the look he’s giving me prompts the words to lay on my tongue again.
“You are my everything, Luna.” He leans over to press his forehead against mine. “And this is only the beginning of the rest of our lives.” My eyes shut at the promise of his words, and then I’m left alone with Rhea for the first time.
I ensure she is asleep in her cot next to the window before I bathe, taking my time as if I’m washing away who I wasbefore. Then again, perhaps it’s not a matter of stepping into something new so much as it is finally feeling like I’m where I’m meant to be.The beginning of the rest of our livesConrad had said. I smile as I trace over my lips with my fingers, his kiss still lingering on them. I liked the sound of that.
Once I’m dressed, I check on Rhea again and then move to the sitting room, grateful for the food and tea left there by the servants. Moving carefully, I carry the tray of food to the couch, setting it down on the table in front of it before slowly taking my seat. I manage a few bites before I rush to check on Rhea, sure I’ve heard her cry. But she sleeps peacefully, so I return to the sitting room and sit again, eager to eat a little more. The door to the space opens just as I pop a grape into my mouth. “How did itgo?” I ask as I chew, turning to look over my shoulder just as the door closes.
But it isn’t Conrad who stares back at me.
“I hear she looks like you.”
“Dolian.” I use the armrest of the couch to push myself up again as I stare at Conrad’s younger brother. “What are you doing here?”
His lips quirk as he tilts his head and takes a step towards me, his hands clasped behind his back. “Can I not come to congratulate my queen on the birth of my niece?”
I stiffen at his use of the wordsmy queen, the connotation undeniable.
