The Queen of Shadows

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“I am…” Eydis whispered.

‘Your Majesty, wait—’ Envy's protest was drowned out by Cerberus’s barks.

“…the Queen of Shadows.”

The ravens cried, ‘Enough! You musn’t—’

“This world…” Eydis closed her eyes. “Was never meant for me.”

Astra sank into the white metal chair as if the weight of those words had struck her physically. Her fingers curled around the edges of the seat, grounding herself against the sheer absurdity of it all.

“You don’t belong to this world.”

And then she laughed. A sound so empty it barely qualified as laughter. It wasn’t humour. It wasn’t even disbelief. If anything, it sounded like resignation.

Eydis watched in silence as Astra’s laughter faded. Astra lowered her head, letting her silver hair fall to hide her face. Yet, it wasn’t fast enough to mask the flash of vulnerability in her crimson eyes. Pain? Doubt? A reluctant, creeping acceptance?

Eydis couldn’t tell.

Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet. Crossing the space between them, she drifted toward the damp wall of plants, letting her fingers trail along the tangle of roots clinging to bark-lined surfaces.

Her familiars stirred again, their anxious warnings rippling through. She silenced them with a thought.

This place—Astra’s place—was a world away from the city of Alchymia. A modest weatherboard house concealing a vibrant, thriving greenhouse. A secret retreat Astra had nurtured, tended, protected.

Her world.

Had Astra built this as an escape? Or had she come here, time and time again, just to avoid her?

Either way, Eydis had no right to be here. And yet, she was. Standing in the midst of Astra’s home, wrapped in Astra’s shirt, bandaged with Astra’s hands daily.

But Eydis knew.

It was never just about the bandage.

It was Astra’s way of asking the question neither of them had dared to voice.

Still, the silence stretched on. Eydis could feel Astra’s gaze burning into her back, steady and searching, but she didn’t turn. Instead, she waited. Daring Astra to break the silence first.

And then… a sigh. Soft, strained, fragile in a way that startled her.

It made her pause.

And, despite herself, it made her turn.

Astra's eyes glimmered now, faintly, as a trace of unshed tears clung to her lashes.

It was subtle.

Not subtle enough for Eydis to ignore.

She didn’t remember moving, only that the distance between them was gone. Her fingers rose on their own, thumb carefully wiping away the tear before it could betray Astra further.

Astra’s eyes widened, startled. Yet, she didn’t pull away. Nor did she speak, as if the weight of her thoughts had stolen her voice entirely.

“Most people would react with fear,” Eydis said softly, her fingers tracing a stray lock of silver hair away from Astra’s face. “Even if they had no idea what the Queen of Shadows truly does.”

Her hand lingered, palm resting lightly against Astra’s cheek. A warmth she hadn’t expected. But that faint tremor in Astra’s gaze unsettled her in ways she didn’t yet understand.

Or perhaps, in ways she was finally beginning to.

Concern.

Astra’s lips parted slightly, but no words came.

Eydis’s eyes softened. “But you’re hardly most people, are you?” she said. “And there I go again, monologuing.”

She stepped back with a small laugh, giving Astra space. “I really must stop talking to myself. It’s becoming an unseemly habit.”

“You do that alot,” Astra said finally, her voice low and husky.

Eydis tilted her head, offering a small, teasing smile. “I wasn’t aware I’d been speaking aloud.”

“Sometimes,” Astra murmured, “silence says more than words.”

The Queen’s brow arched. “Do you wish I hadn’t told you?”

Astra opened her mouth to reply but hesitated. Slowly, she rose from her chair, crimson eyes gleaming. Recognition.

“You’ve told me this before.”

Eydis stilled. “Oh?”

Astra lifted her chin, meeting her gaze. “Shadows cling to you,” she murmured. “Tell me, Your Majesty… what exactly do you mean by shadows?

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The edge in Astra’s tone made something shift in Eydis, though she controlled it well. “Didn’t realise you hung on to my every word.”

“I remember what matters.” Astra’s voice dipped. “And not just about you.”

Eydis’s lips twitched, but there was a challenge in her eyes. “Oh, you do, do you?” With a flick of her wrist, she added, almost lazily, “For the record, I was indeed talking to myself most of the time.”

The air rippled, darkness twisting into form. From the void stepped a sleek, muscular Doberman.

Bark!

The dog bounded toward her, tail wagging, its amber eyes gleaming with an intelligence that mirrored its master’s. It stopped just short of Astra, scrutinising her. Then, it glanced between the two women, as if weighing tensions.

Astra paused, then sank into a crouch gracefully. She extended a hand, her frosty composure softened ever so slightly.

The dog sniffed, then licked her palm without hesitation.

Eydis crossed her arms. “Traitor.”

Astra’s lips twitched faintly as the dog let out a soft whine, her fingers threading lightly through its fur.

“Naturally, you’d be a dog person,” Eydis said.

“This is… the purple smoke,” Astra stated, her gaze steady on the dog. “Isn’t it?”

Eydis froze. She'd been certain she'd masked its signature completely. "You can sense it?"

“Process of elimination,” Astra said simply. Her next words came sharply. “Thomas and Noah…”

Eydis’s jaw tightened. She braced herself for the accusation, the blame, the anger. But Astra did nothing.

Instead, she waited.

“Elimination, you say?” Eydis replied, snapping her fingers, summoning twin ravens from the void. They were smaller than usual, their feathers shimmering faintly under the morning light.

“Greetings, fair maiden Astra,” one crooned, bowing its head theatrically. “A vision to behold, as always!”

“Is she the one who nearly plucked your feathers?" the other asked.

“We don’t speak of that! I merely expressed my enthusiasm for her company in a slightly... forceful manner,” the first snapped, puffing out its chest.

“Well, your squawking said otherwise,” the second retorted.

Their squabble grew louder, a storm of caws and fluttering wings. Eydis shot the birds an unimpressed glare and waved her hand dismissively. The ravens and the dog dissolved into mist.

Her eyes settled on Astra, studying her carefully.

But Astra was unreadable. Finally, she spoke quietly. “Were they the ones controlling Thomas and Noah?”

Eydis’s lips curved slightly. “Sharp as ever.”

“So they belong to your world.” Astra rose, her tone sharpening. “They belong to you?”

Amusement glinted in Eydis’s gaze. “Yes…” she drawled, “…and no.”

Astra snapped, “Do you ever give a straight answer, Eydis?”

“Oh, I’ve perfected the art of ambiguity. It’s a talent, really.” Eydis’s smile widening. “But I suppose I’m staring into a mirror. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“What exactly are you implying?”

Eydis closed the distance between them, her voice dropping to a teasing murmur. “I’m saying I’m not the only one hiding who I am.”

Her fingers brushed against Astra’s chin, tilting it upward, forcing her gaze to meet hers. “Isn’t it about time…” she whispered, her voice velvet-soft, almost daring. “…you told me who you really are?”

Astra’s breath hitched, a low growl escaping as she jerked away from Eydis’s touch. But not before Eydis felt the quickening pulse beneath her fingertips.

Eydis barely had time to register the shift before Astra’s voice cut through.

“I was hoping you could tell me that,” she shot back, as if trying to regain control. “Pride.”

Pride?

Eydis’s gaze lingered on Astra, her mind working swiftly through the implications of the name. Was this about Greed masquerading as Pride? Or…

Something else?

Astra seemed almost indifferent to the earlier display of power with Cerberus, and even the ravens. But this…

This was personal. To her.

“My name,” Eydis stated slowly, her gaze locked onto Astra’s as if daring her to find any trace of deception. She stepped forward.

“Is Eydis.”

Close now. Close enough for warmth to pass between them.

“Nothing more. Nothing less.”

Astra let out a breath, low and uneven. “You really expect me to believe that?”

Eydis leaned in, her lips almost brushing Astra’s ear. Almost. “What I expect,” she murmured, “is for you to stop dancing around the truth. Honesty suits you far better, Astra.”

“Stay back, or I’ll—“

“Hurt me? Kill me?” Eydis interrupted smoothly. Her gaze traced the sharp angles of Astra’s face, searching. “Strange, considering how carefully you've avoided doing either.”

Astra scoffed. “You’re making a lot of assumptions.” She turned away sharply. “So why the hell are you treating me like I’m not a threat? Like we haven’t been chasing you and your little shadows. Who does that? Either you’re an idiot or—”

“Perhaps I am.” Eydis exhaled a quiet laugh.

Astra’s response came too fast. “Finally, something we agree on.”

Eydis caught it. Not just the words, but the way Astra clenched her jaw after saying them. Her voice dipped, almost thoughtful.

“Why do you care?” She absently traced the edge of the bandage on her abdomen.

Astra hesitated for half a second. Too long. Too telling. “I don’t.”

Eydis smiled. “Care enough to heal me.”

Astra’s shoulders tensed. She said nothing.

Eydis stepped closer, her hands settling lightly on Astra’s shoulders, her touch more intimate than forceful. When she spoke again, her voice had softened, warm and piercing.

“This bandage isn’t for me, is it?” she said. “It’s for you.”

Astra inhaled sharply.

Goosebumps rippled across her skin.

Then—

A flash of movement. A blade catching the light. A diamond dagger stopped just shy of Eydis’s throat.

Eydis didn’t flinch.

“And how, exactly, did you assume that?” Astra’s voice was steady, but her grip wasn’t.

“Assume?” Eydis only smiled, infuriatingly unbothered. She tapped her chin with a finger. “Process of elimination.”

Then, slowly, she reached out. Her fingers closed around the blade. A sharp sting. The bite of heat. A single bead of crimson welled up.

Astra’s eyes widened. The dagger vanished in a shimmer of light. Her fingers twitched as though she hadn’t meant to let go.

Eydis caught Astra’s retreating hand in her own, holding firm before it could slip away.

A golden light flared between them, warm and pulsing, twining around their hands like something alive.

Astra didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

Didn’t let go.

“You can try to hide in the shadows, Astra,” Eydis whispered. “But remember… I move them.”

The glow of Eydis’s gaze shimmered in Astra’s crimson depths, but she made no move to pull away. Their fingers curled together, instinctive, magnetic.

As if, in that moment, letting go wasn’t an option at all.

As if drawn by something stronger than either of them.

The wound on Eydis’s palm sealed itself in an instant, but she barely noticed. Her attention was caught entirely by Astra: the slight part of her lips, the rapid pulse visible at her throat, the way her gaze darkened with something that wasn't quite anger and wasn't quite fear.

Eydis lifted her free hand, her fingers hovering over Astra’s cheek, close enough to feel the warmth of her skin. Not quite a touch. Not quite nothing.

“Tell me, Astra…” she purred, savouring each syllable.

The fingers tangled with hers twitched, then tightened, a silent contradiction. The smallest of movements, but enough to send something sharp and breathless through Eydis’s chest.

Enough to make her hold on tighter.

Enough for her thumb to wander, drawing slow circles against Astra’s skin… just to see if she would stop her.

She didn't. Colour dusted her delicate cheeks as she drew in a sharp breath, silver lashes fluttering before she caught herself.

Eydis fought back a smile; not mocking, not taunting, but something softer. Something dangerously close to fondness. Her voice dropped, as though sharing a secret meant only for them.

“Is that even your real name?”

The words brushed against Astra’s ear. Eydis saw the tension, heard the sharp intake of breath, smelled the intoxicating scent of sandalwood, tasted the shift in the air—the inevitability of something about to change.

Felt it, too.

Astra's skin, warm beneath her touch. Not a threat. Not an ally. Not a friend. Not an enemy.

But not a stranger, either.

Eydis didn’t want them to be.