Queen vs. A Honeyed Dilemma
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“Seriously, you’ve vanished for a week!” Natalia muttered, elbowing Eydis as they walked through the early winter courtyard. The brittle crunch of orange leaves underfoot filled the silence Eydis left unbothered. “A week, Eydis! You were doing so well in class, and then… poof! What gives?”
Eydis drank her espresso, the bitter taste reflecting the half-formed thoughts swirling in her mind.
After the French press incident with Astra—which she was now mentally cataloging as "The Great Caffeine Catastrophe of 2050"—there had been attempts at conversation. An effort to work out some arrangement, some path leading back to their world.
But it wasn’t just the arrangement that had her on edge.
It was Ast—
No. The Eye.
She lifted her head as if to prove the thought, and there it was… that grotesque, bloated mass of flesh looming in the sky, pulsating like a fevered heart. A nightmare made manifest, yet disturbingly inert.
Was it a vessel for her Sins? Could Pride have picked something this obscene to represent itself?
No.
Pride had taste. And a frankly exhausting obsession with aesthetic coherence.
This was something else. Something she had yet to name, yet to understand—but it was connected to her world. Astra confirmed it. Each time it had been struck, something had broken free.
Envy. Then Gluttony. Then Greed.
How many had escaped? She didn’t know.
But it was only the beginning, and it was also the key to regain her full power.
So why had she agreed to come back to St. Kevin’s, of all places? Because she needed to be in the loop. Because she needed Astr—no, required answers from—Astra.
She had been avoiding Astra.
She wasn’t afraid. She was assessing the likelihood of her brain spontaneously combusting from overexposure to certain… thoughts.
Nothing major.
Because ever since that day, something fundamental had shifted between them. Eydis had been excruciatingly aware of it.
And it could not be happening.
She was the Queen of Shadows. Astra was the Saintess of Light. Some boundaries were not meant to be crossed.
As they passed under an arch of ivy, Natalia’s voice interrupted the spiral of her thoughts.
“What’s going on with you?” she asked, her voice a mix of concern and something else Eydis couldn’t place.
Eydis exhaled, turning her gaze toward Natalia with languid amusement. “Besides my triumphant return from the abyss?”
“Triumphant… what?”
Eydis waved a hand vaguely. Then, she redirected the conversation. “More importantly, where are your little marsupials?”
Natalia blinked. “What?”
“The koalas.” Eydis took a lazy sip of her coffee. “The ones permanently attached to you. Do they hibernate in winter?”
Natalia groaned. “Colette and Birgit.”
“Yes, them.”
Natalia folded her arms. “If you’re so interested, you could use their actual names.”
Eydis smirked. “I could.”
Natalia folded her arms. “It’s just the flu—seasonal, no big deal.” She let out a slow breath, but Eydis caught the way she rubbed at her temple, her movements a little sluggish. A slight flush dusted her cheekbones.
She hesitated, glancing away, before flicking her gaze back to Eydis, looking oddly flustered. “Okay, not to be weird, but… are you wearing your contacts more? Because people keep staring.”
Eydis blinked, then followed Natalia’s gaze to the crowd.
Students, boys and girls alike, were watching them. Not discreetly. Not even pretending to look away. Vacant eyes. Slack-jawed expressions. A few looked outright dazed, like they’d walked straight into a dream and forgotten how to wake up.
Ah. Right.
Her vision had sharpened with the return of her magic. She could see too much now: every hesitation, every unspoken thought resting just beneath the surface of their skin.
Well, not literally. That would be unnecessary. She’d never get anything done with that kind of power. How did Athena even tolerate it?
“Naturally.” Eydis shrugged, pretending nonchalance, but the moment her eyes returned to Natalia, she caught a flicker. The way Natalia shifted, her body angling just slightly toward her.
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Odd.
Natalia blinked, gathering herself. “Naturally? That’s it?”
Eydis tilted her head, considering. Then, deciding to lighten the mood, whatever this was, she arched a brow.
“Would you rather I pretend to be shy?” She clutched her chest in mock horror. “Oh no, Natalia! Not my devastating good looks! Anything but that!”
She leaned in. “I could. If it would entertain you.”
Goosebumps spread across Natalia’s arms as she stiffened, stepping back quickly. “Oh, no. Nope. Don’t do that. Go back to ‘Naturally’! ‘Naturally’ was safe!”
Eydis smirked, pleased. “Pity. I had an entire monologue prepared.”
Natalia’s lips twitched, fighting a smile. “Of course you did.”
Eydis chuckled, then let her gaze drift lazily over Natalia, pausing. “Hm.”
“What?”
Eydis tapped a finger against her chin. “Perhaps they weren’t staring at me.”
“W-What?” Natalia asked.
To emphasise her point, Eydis stepped closer, inspecting Natalia with an intensity that bordered on invasive.
Natalia, to her credit, did not immediately wilt.
Interesting.
No more braids. Her crimson hair cascaded freely around her shoulders, untamed and rebellious. And makeup now: a hint of eyeliner, a touch of cherry-scented lip balm.
Cherry.
Cherry. Lip. Balm.
The Queen of Shadows almost flushed. Almost.
“Eydis… they weren’t staring at me,” Natalia stammered.
Eydis frowned. “They should.”
Natalia’s breath hitched. A loose strand of crimson hair fell forward. Without thinking, Eydis reached out, tucking it behind her ear. It felt soft, a slight dampness to the strands.
Not silk. Not like Astra’s.
And there it was. The scent of honey. But it wasn’t the sharp, cinnamon-and-night-bloomed-blossom scent that clung to Astra’s hair. She would never admit that everything about Astra was—
A prickle ran down her spine.
Something was watching her.
Eydis blinked hard, forcibly redirecting her thoughts. Her senses were misfiring. That was all.
Natalia, meanwhile, had turned an alarming shade of red.
“E-Eydis…”
“Did you change your shampoo?” Eydis murmured, withdrawing her hand.
Did she feel it? That same restless curiosity she felt with Astra? That itch in her fingers, the one that made her want to trace warmth, softness, skin.
No.
Nothing. No spark. Just touch—the way it had always been.
“You… noticed?” Natalia’s voice was small, almost disbelieving, and the flush on her face deepened.
Before Eydis could comment further, Natalia shifted forward, then wobbled, her heel catching on the uneven stone.
A sharp intake of breath. A slow-motion flail.
Eydis caught her effortlessly, steadying her at the waist.
Natalia’s hands pressed against her shoulders, eyes wide. “WOAH—oof.”
Then, quieter:
“…You totally did that on purpose.”
Eydis barely spared her a glance, still holding her coffee with the kind of grace only she could manage. “Did what, exactly?”
Natalia flushed, clinging to her like a koala in distress. Yet Eydis felt the heat emanating from her; noticeable now, hot against her hands.
Was it just embarrassment?
“Nothing! I mean—Cool. Yep. Totally fine!” Natalia stammered, trying to pull herself together. But as she did, she froze.
Her eyes darted past Eydis’s shoulder.
“Eydis…”
“That’s my name,” she replied.
“No, I mean—you’re right.”
Eydis sighed. “Natalia, be more specific.”
Natalia swallowed hard. “Now I’m being stared at.”
“Of course you are,” Eydis said smoothly, stepping back. “You’re glowing, Natalia. Staring is the least they can do.”
“G-glowing?! What am I, a lightbulb?”
“Yes. Radiant. You’re positively… what’s the term? Ah, yes. On fire.”
Eydis paused, frowning as the lingering warmth from Natalia’s body registered in her palm. She flexed her fingers. “Quite literally, actually.”
Natalia let out a scandalised wheeze. “I AM NOT ON FIRE—”
Then, she nudged Eydis’s elbow. “No! I mean… Murder stare! Eydis!”
Eydis turned.
Across the courtyard, Astra stood motionless. The winter air stirred a silver strand of hair loose, but she didn’t tuck it back.
Her crimson eyes didn’t burn. They didn’t narrow. They didn’t betray anything at all.
But they lingered.
Then, a shift.
A tightening at the corners of her mouth, the smallest twitch of her fingers, like they ached to curl into fists. A breath drawn too sharply. Her gaze moved, casual but precise, landing where Natalia’s hand still rested on Eydis’s elbow.
Eydis flinched, her feet shifting involuntarily, her body tilting toward Astra before she could stop herself.
But Astra was faster.
Her lips parted slightly, as if she might speak. But she didn’t. Instead, her gaze dropped, not hurried, not obvious. Just gone. A deliberate refusal to acknowledge anything at all.
Then, without a word, she turned and walked away. No confrontation. No glance back.
And yet, she left something behind. A shimmer, faint and fleeting. Flecks of ice caught the sunlight, dissolving into air.
Natalia shivered, hugging her green blazer tighter. “Did you feel that? Why is it so cold all of a sudden?”
Eydis watched, the corners of her mouth curling with something almost resigned.
The Saintess. The force of nature.
“A walking weather system,” she said with exaggerated casualness, as though that explained everything.
Natalia blinked at her. “What does that mean?”
But Eydis was already slipping her arm through Natalia’s, pulling her toward class.
“It’ll pass,” she whispered, brushing off the chill. But as she moved, her mind drifted again. Back to that moment.
The almost.
The almost-touch. (They had touched.) But it wasn’t enough.
The almost-smile. (Astra had smiled.) But Eydis had wanted more.
The light conversation in Astra’s greenhouse, a space that felt far too intimate for what it was.
That felt almost… sacred.
That moment Astra had downed Eydis’s dreadful coffee in one gulp, where she had pretended to hate it but not really. Because there had been a secret smile, small and hidden behind the rim of her cup. A gesture Astra likely believed had gone unnoticed.
But Eydis had noticed. She had been watching. Attuned. To Astra.
To her, above all others.
And that realisation…
It terrified her. What terrified her most wasn't the noticing itself. It was how, even now, after everything that had happened, the memory still tugged her lips into an unwilling smile.
She couldn’t unthink it, couldn’t force it away. It lingered, stubborn. Like pure honey stirred into coffee; not dissolving, but standing apart. Sweetness that refused to be lost in the bitterness. That clung to the tongue, distinctive.
A taste she had, at last… reluctantly acknowledged.
And recognised it for precisely what it was.
She wondered, truly wondered, if her world would shift if she let herself indulge. Would she surrender to it, let it seep into her, let herself drown? Or would she, in the end, turn away—insisting, as she always had, that she preferred her coffee dark, bitter, untouched?
That thought? It tasted like danger.
Her mind drifted back to Astra, to that quiet afternoon in an unassuming greenhouse, where there had been no war, no titles, no fate pressing between them. Only the two of them.
She remembered the way Astra’s lips had curved in that quiet, knowing smile, as if she had already decided Eydis would remember. The way she stirred the honey; not to make it disappear, but to let it linger. The way she had handed over the coffee, her gaze steady, waiting.
Hoping.
The soft inhale when Eydis took the first sip. The brief flicker of satisfaction in Astra’s eyes. The way she looked beneath the golden light, so weightless, so unburdened. As if, for once, the world had no claim on her.
Such a trivial thing. Two women, drinking coffee in silence. And yet, that silence had been the most effortless thing Eydis had ever known.
And the taste of that coffee… It settled on her tongue like a touch that never quite left.
Eydis felt the gravity of it shift—
And realised, too late, that she was already falling.
“It’ll pass,” Eydis repeated, though it sounded even less convincing now.
It must pass.