Ayre

“That’s… terrible.” Cerya’s words do not do it justice.

But when I gaze into her eyes, I recognize the look of a cornered creature. There is no need to question that kind of look when faced with a predator.

I keep my distance, allowing myself to rest against the wall by the door to her chambers. Any measure to assure her I do not intend to invade this space feels worth taking this early into our interactions.

The Lunarian Seer sighs, lowering herself to sit atop the petal of an oversized flower. As she pulls the edge of the petal around her, I re-contextualize it as a kind of bedding.

Now is probably a good time for me to be up front about as much as I can.

“The Castellan intends to mark some anniversary of a shared conquest between our people with a period of negotiations intended to bind us as more than just allies. Binding myself to you and Theriya is intended as the first of many offerings being made to your rulers.” Had I more time, I would have loved to research the shared history between our nations. “Truth be told, I’m still new at court. I could not tell you how earnest this gesture is beyond that it has been assured Astraea and I will be enough to resolve any production issues you’ve been having.”

Cerya averts her eyes. “I’m not sure what you can do that two entire plantings of Watchers cannot. As seedlings, most Lunarians that live in this branch are still considered young. Still, it is not like we are unaware of what Vylian royalty are capable of. This just… feels like a problem of scale.” The way her voice tapers off, I can tell there is more she wants to say.

But I am not here to pry.

Being patient and not pushing seems to have been the right call, as she convinces herself after only a brief silence.

“I suspect the Watchers will be happy to let you go on the offensive. They… think their time is wasted on anything that is not a defensive role.”

I grit my teeth. “But the problem lies in attacks along the roads in and out of this place being hit.” Cerya begins to nod midway through making my point. It is not her ears that are deaf to reason, it seems. “Right. We should probably table this conversation until my Sworn Blade can join us.” But that is all I say. I can’t just freely admit that I am not entirely sure of what my protector is capable of.

Or should I be revealing as much information as Cerya is to build trust?

Cerya leans forward. “Would it be feasible to send for this Sworn Blade of yours?”

My hand hovers over my shoulder, massaging at the bindings beneath the shawl. “I’m not sure how much Snapdragon told you, but she announced herself as Astraea Wyrmsbane. She should be finding a place for our carriage driver to stay for the night and unpacking our things.” I grind a hesitant fang against my lip as I wager revealing more. “Truth be told, I suspect she is worth far more than I am in a fight. For what little time I have called her my protector, she has brought me much comfort and counsel that suggests experience far beyond my years.”

Cerya’s eyes light up. “Oh! Well if she brings you a measure of comfort and safety, that alone is reason enough to consider her worth waiting for.” This declaration is loud and impassioned enough that Theriya would certainly overhear, if not Snapdragon as well. It probably depends on the thickness of the walls and doors between us.

Sure enough, I overhear Theriya moving to fetch Snapdragon from outside.

The Watcher soon enters the room, immediately settling down atop a petal next to Cerya’s. All of this comes without a need for an invitation.

I am somewhat impressed. As many as eight people could each claim their own petal if desired, but I suspect this floral bedding could fit twice that number if Cerya so desired.

“Snapdragon.” Cerya whispers.

“Yes love?” Snapdragon says, lazily eyeing the two of us.

“Would it be too much to ask for you to fetch Ayre’s companion?”

Snapdragon sits up, suddenly attentive. “Which one?” Her eyes turn to me.

I offer her a hand to signal the one among my company who is a head taller than me. “Astraea, but I would like both of my dolls too, if it is not too much to ask.”

That gets a snort out of Snapdragon. She’s back out of bed and stretching with a look of purpose. “Sure. Fetching your pretty companions beats returning to my post at the gates. If anyone asks, I’m seeing to your needs.”

I turn away from her words, unsure how much longer my noble visage capable of staying on task will last. “I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me and Astraea. She and I aren’t… None of us are like that. Not really.”

What noble visage?

I’m nearing my limit.

If anything, I need a place to fall apart. Preferably just in front of my dolls.

Astraea might be ready for it, but what about me?

My eyes meet Cerya’s once Snapdragon has left the room. There is a visible concern.

But how much can I trust her?

What am I to Cerya?

If given the opportunity, how quick would she be to exploit our weaknesses?

Or am I projecting too much of my siblings onto her?

I soon find that I am not the first one to back away.

“Do you need space?” Is all Cerya asks.

Yes.

But I am terrified of being left alone to dwell on my memories.

“I don’t know.” I say, admitting what feels like a mistake.

I get a thoughtful look before Cerya crosses to the opposite side of the room. “What if you pretended I was not here? I would not pay you mind unless you specifically drew my attention.”

“This binding between us can’t be that easy.” I say, giving her an incredulous look.

Cerya does not acknowledge me, her attention fixated on sorting through some clothes.

“Cerya.”

“Yes, Ayre?” She turns to give me her attention.

“I…” I freeze, feeling something within me stir. Vulnerabilities need to remain buried. “Nevermind.”

Cerya smiles softly before resuming what quickly becomes evident is her nightly routine. Fetching clothes to sleep in and for tomorrow, followed by searching for a brush.

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This leaves me time to explore the space at my own leisure. Everything has a grown appearance to it. Stumps, knotted storage spaces, and soft greenery in various sizes to lay or sit atop. With the rest taken into context, it is little wonder that her bedding is a massive flower with an arrangement of petals one could fall into.

I save the mirrors arranged on one of the pairs of stumps for last. It is not so much that I am avoiding them so much as… working my way up to it.

Cerya begins to hum as she finds a seat. She has turned her back on me, committing to managing the entirety of her hair using another one of the mirrors. If Snapdragon comes and goes, it is little wonder this space is meant to accommodate more than just Cerya.

How crowded would this room feel with the addition of me and my Dolls? I look around. If anything, all it would likely need is a couple more pieces of furniture that are already here. If my own personal space was a quarter the size as this one, I would be content.

I make the choice to hang my crimson shawl from a nearby branch currently unused for the purposes of holding a light source. Dim light is cast solely from the opposite end where a glowing moss filled lantern hangs from a similar branch. Its light does not reach the door, not with the flower bed between them.

Taking a deep breath, I face the dark and wretched thing in the meager light of the mirror. Much of me remains in shadow without a light source alongside me. There is enough light to make out the black binding strips of cloth wrapped around the entirety of my chest and shoulders. It takes slow and careful unwrapping to expose the shoulders and scars desperately in need of massaging.

The tightness of the bindings normally press my parasite and I into alertness. Circulation has never been a concern, not when I have a parasite that has already stitched unwanted limbs to my torso. Had those Lunarian Watchers severed a limb, I shudder to think how my parasite would have reacted. But there would have been little room for doubt at that point.

Removing the bandages almost instantly causes tension to flee my body.

The thought of being seen for the patchwork monstrosity that I am is counterbalanced by my weariness. I will need to sleep eventually. With Astraea on the way, now is as good a time as I am going to get in terms of letting my guard down to see how these Lunarians will react.

Once the bindings are reapplied, this time loose enough for sleep, I prepare myself for the conversation to come. With my back to Cerya, my gaze falls to the floor.

Here goes what little I have left in me. Anything else that needs to be discussed will wait until morning.

“I’m not used to caring what others think of me.” I say.

I hear Cerya’s brush be set atop the wooden surface in front of her. But I do not turn to face her.

Not yet.

My explanation continues. “I am a Prince only so far as it means keeping Fia and Selescia safe.”

Cerya gives me a moment.

“Safe from what? If you don’t mind me asking.” She asks with a whisper..

“Siblings who would…” My hands ball into fists that I hide in my lap. “Drain and discard in favor of fresh sources of sustenance without regard for where they come from.”

Cerya says nothing.

I continue.

“This binding meant nothing to me. At least at first. I have no need or desire to claim you or Theriya as my own. But if such a binding is an edict from the Castellan, I’ll make compromises if it means maintaining my station.”

“And keeping your girls safe.” Cerya finishes. “I understand.”

“Good. I was told to be honest. And I have done so.” I say, turning to find Cerya wearing an expression I cannot parse.

“But what do you want?” She asks.

No.

I can’t find familiarity in this question.

Can’t?

Or won’t?

This is not the first time a girl has tried to talk me into finding a reason to escape the depths.

I flinch, tearing my gaze from hers in favor of the mirror.

In the darkness, I find the mark left by my chin striking stone.

I am faced with a chip in my lip from an ill-advised first feeding. Sometimes I can still taste the blade.

I rub those sunken cheeks. A leftover from a self-inflicted deprivation. The realization that hurting myself means being unable to spare my dolls from harm all the same cannot be escaped.

But I can’t face this.

So I lie.

“Same things as everyone else.” So confident. “Somewhere safe to sleep. Food…” But so hollow of meaning.

Cerya cuts me off. “Assuming we offer you that for as long as you stay here. No need to fight for it. What then?”

My voice catches in my throat.

“Surely there’s something.” Cerya says, her voice gently pleading.

“I’m sorry.” And my heart grows heavy with a weight that eclipses the parasite. “The last time I shared what I wanted with another, my siblings took that person from me."

And more besides. If… I’m going to do this, letting someone in. It can’t be all at once.

My words are already giving way to sobs as I begin to fall apart in earnest.

Cerya is unable to get anything but incoherent lamentations from me. For a while, the details of the moment stop mattering.

I allow myself to feel the weight of what has been done to me. Until I become aware of being swept up in Cerya’s arms.

I struggle, almost instinctively, but Cerya’s words put a stop to that.

“I may not be your Fia, your Selescia, or this Astraea. And maybe I can never replace who they took from you. But if I’m the one your vile family bound you to… I will claim you as my own if I have to. If it means giving you an opportunity to become more than the purpose they discarded you for.” Cerya’s declarations become shouts. “You’re mine. Mine! You hear me? Mine.”

It is enough to prompt Theriya to rush into the room and witness the vulnerable mess I have been reduced to.

“This one is ours, Theriya.” Her sister cries. “I won’t let this one wither away like Snapdragon. Not if I can do something about it.”

Theriya catches my eye. “I think she likes you. Should I be growing a flower for your own space? Or is sharing Cerya’s fine for now?”

Cerya’s arms squeeze tighter around my chest.

It takes me longer than I would like to give more than a nod, but I manage it. “Here is… fine.”

“Let me know if you ever change your mind.” Theriya somehow manages to find amusement in the scene before respectfully retreating towards the door. “Should I delay the others?”

To which Cerya defers to me.

“No. I… I’ll come out and meet them.”

“If you’re sure.” Theriya says, closing the door before I can confirm or change my mind.

“I’m not sure I understand either of you.” I say. “But thank you.”

Cerya finds herself laughing in a way I’m not sure is voluntary. She wipes away tears as she speaks in a way I have only ever seen Lenore do. “I never know when a flower will wither or be cut short. It is best, I’ve found, to cherish those that I can.”

“Theriya… feels the same?” I ask.

I get a shrug in turn. “She needed a sister. And I won’t last long in my position without people I can trust. I make it a point to try and grow my garden of supporters whenever I can. If things don’t work out, I find a new place for them.” Her smile strikes me as a weak reassurance.

Not a sister, my instincts immediately suggest.

I shake my head, dismissing the thought. They are sisters enough, in the same way I am protecting my dolls by being a Prince for their sakes. None of these arrangements need to be ideal or what was originally promised. If Fia and Selescia are content, I should be too.

But I’m not. And I don’t know how to fix that.

Stop.

I just need to focus on what I can do.

I need to eat, and sleep. Tomorrow I need to get to know Astraea, Cerya, and Theriya in earnest. I can decide the rest once I feel secure in that knowledge. These Moon Wrought production issues, invasive species, and visiting siblings can be dealt with as a sensible order presents itself.

For now, I try to allow myself to not shake and sob over feeling like I will never be okay again.

If this was a mistake, and the Lunarians turn on us, I’ll deal with it then.

But for now, I am at the limit of what I can do.

“Okay.” I say. “I’ll tell everyone we found a new start. I think… they’ll be happy to hear that.”

Only then does Cerya finally release me from her arms.

I am left to grapple with the absence of a weight on my chest that is… desired and missed.

None of this changes that I am still a wretch. The thought comes too easily, as the uncomfortable weight of my parasite becomes the focus of my body’s irregularities.

Maybe I am… a desirable wretch. Or maybe Cerya and Astraea were both wrong to claim otherwise. Something to figure out later.

The observable fact is that I have survived letting my guard down with Cerya. And Astraea did not murder us on any of the nights leading up to this one. I can work with giving them the benefit of the doubt. I can treat them as allies until I am given reason to do otherwise.

I meet Snapdragon and my companions at the top of the stairs leading to the third floor. Fia and Selescia both are welcomed into my arms.

“How did it go?” Fia asks with a chipper energy that catches me off guard.

I feel delicate, weary.

Sleep, food, and if I don’t improve, I will need to consider feeding on one of my dolls.

“I think I did okay.” I say, attempting to try on one of Cerya’s sad smiles as my own. “I… let my guard down around Cerya. But she claimed me for her own and has invited us to share her flower bed.”

Something about withering in the same way Snapdragon did. If she is anything like me, that is not a topic to be broached lightly.

Fia’s eyes widen. “Okay? If this were back home, that would be the equivalent of a quick and clean killing of a darkbeast that preserves all the meat! This is the ideal outcome!”

Selescia clears her throat. “Fia. We are in respectable company. Do try to ration out your excitement.”

My more level headed doll tries to communicate something to me with a look, but I wave her off. I’m just happy to see glimpses of an unfiltered Fia restored to her senses.

This is as far as any of us have ever been from the depths that for so long defined the scope of our lives. If I’m allowed to be a mess, Fia is allowed to make comparisons to what success looks like in the circumstances that led to me becoming such a wretch.

“We’re safe here.” I say. “They like us. We can… start over here.”

That gets me a look from Astraea and Snapdragon both. But there is no time to read into those.

Selescia and Fia cling tight to me, and I find myself focused on embracing them harder than usual.

I am a good Prince.

My dolls are going to be safe.

That I can strive for something else is… nostalgic.

Not hopeful. Not yet. It would be too soon to entertain delusions.