Somehow, a foggy morning carried over the dense snow. Soltero had insisted on sketching Moon in his notebook when they were supposed to be taking a stroll through the garden.
She took note of how he left an open path behind him through the snow. He was melting the snow just from being here, which left Moon feeling some slight annoyance that she didn't comment on. Must she really be doomed to marry this boy in the future? How ironic, with them being polar opposites—they were literally fire and ice.
Soltero took note of the way Moon looked more distant and sour than usual. "Moon, what is occupying your mind today? You look more bitter than usual," he commented with a grin on his face.
Even with her expression like this, he still sketched her every detail. A fine artist, as some would put it, though it's not like they were making much conversation at all, so for him to be doing this activity didn't bother Moon much.
She opened her mouth to speak, but words failed to come out. This happened a few times before she came to an abrupt stop in pace, which in turn caused Soltero to bump into her, but Moon failed to budge. "Eh?" came out of his mouth.
Suddenly, Moon turned sharp on her heel to face him, expression unreadable. "Were you aware they were sending me off? And to live in your empire of all places?"
He was left silent for a moment, eying her down before finally speaking. "Semi," he replied.
She let out a scoff at his words and turned to keep walking, where he followed after her. "Two weeks, they said. Two weeks before my brother's coronation to become emperor. I, I deserved it more than he did," she sputtered out angry mumbles, walking with more of a heavy step while her tail lashed around. Soltero struggled to avoid it so he didn't get caught in the crossfire. But she was walking so fast, it was a little difficult to keep up with her.
"Moon," he called out. "Moon!" he called out once again, growing a bit frustrated. "MOON!"
"What?" Moon yelled out, stopping in her tracks to face him, a glare storming in her eyes as fury filled her every fiber.
Finally taking a moment to breathe, his expression grew rather serious. "You could always... kill them?"
A suggestion like that made Moon freeze, turning over the idea multiple times in her head, debating, and so on. Soltero just took on her silence as a chance to keep talking. "I mean, killing them would very much solve your problems. Women take charge, and women are in power," he stated in a sigh. "If you were the last standing in your family, you'd become empress by default." He took a step closer to her, taking her hand in his own.
The warmth of his touch made Moon wince—not in pain, but it had just taken her off guard. She hated being touched. "And you know, I'd quite like that look on you."
"I could…"
"You could" he repeated.
The seed had already been well planted in her mind long before he had suggested it. Yet, the words only just now surfaced in her consciousness, giving her enough clarity to confirm what she had desired all along.
She could imagine herself standing tall over an empire she had transformed into something far better—no more clandestine slave trades to keep the economy afloat, no more senseless conflicts over scarce resources, no more wars waged by avaricious adults. The vision of a reformed and flourishing empire filled her heart with resolve and a sense of purpose.
Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a familiar voice piercing through her daydreams.
"Are you still doing your studies? Isn't it rather useless if you'll be leaving for another family? I'll be emperor soon anyway," Sirius's voice rang out with a cocky tone. He lounged on the sofa across from Moon, his feet casually perched on a stack of her books on the table. "If anything, you're lucky, my dear sister. You get the treatment you deserve as a ruler to, um..."
"Piffedal..." Moon's gaze remained unreadable as she stared at her idiotic brother. He was clad in his training uniform, but there wasn't a drop of sweat on his body. This led her to believe he had been idly sitting around or, worse yet, flirting with a low-class maiden. What a disgrace. He could've at least dumped a bucket of water down his shirt to create the illusion of exertion.
"Uh, yeah, that!" he said with a grin, as though he had known the answer all along. Removing his feet from the table, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His expression softened somewhat as he looked at Moon, who sat on the floor by the table, attempting to focus on her studies.
"When I become emperor, I promise I'll take care of you..." His words might have been fueled by guilt for allowing their parents to torment her. As much as Sirius possessed the confidence and charisma of a bright ruler—the star of an empire, as they called it—Moon knew he lacked the knowledge, mindset, and training necessary to be a competent emperor. He'd make disastrous decisions that would cause the empire to collapse under his rule, reducing it to nothing more than a minor city.
Moon knew she couldn't let that happen. Maybe she'd feel guilty after killing him, maybe she'd feel no remorse as she watched the life drain from his eyes, but she had already made up her mind. She would rather be the one to bring him down than watch him destroy the empire in the worst possible way. She had a plan in place for him.
"Thank you, Brother," Moon mumbled, diverting her gaze back to her papers and books.
Measuring tapes and a mirror revealed her pale, sunken skin while seamstresses came in to personally prepare new gowns for Moon. It wasn't because she wanted them, but because her mother had made a big deal of making her look pretty for her brother's coronation ball.
"Ugh, not that fabric. Don't make her look more like a shaggy, dirty kitten than she already does," Comet directed the seamstresses harshly. Rows of fabric were lined up around the room, along with patterns and lace weavings that could be hemmed on. Comet circled around the room, her heels clacking against the floor—how annoying to listen to.
"Use this red fabric. Give it a lace hemline around her waist, and for fuck's sake, someone give this brat some etiquette lessons." The fabric sagged around her fist, a blood-red shade with the tiniest hint of shimmer. Even though black and red were their royal colors, Moon had always been told red suited her best because it gave a sense of some color to her pale features. Fair, I suppose.
Comet threw the fabric down, and an assistant to the head seamstress gathered it up to use. Before Comet caught a glimpse of the apathetic look on her daughter's face, she strode over, taking Moon's face aggressively in her hand, a nail or two digging into her cheek.
"If I catch you even making the slightest bit of a frown at your brother's coronation, I will personally sew your fucking lips to your cheeks." Her tone was as harsh as ever. Moon really did try to ignore the pain burning in her cheeks, knowing a few bloody marks would be left behind. But because their wounds always healed so quickly, nobody ever questioned the abuse.
"And so help me, I will make you able to walk in the standard heel even if I have to make your heels bleed." Finally, Comet released Moon's face, not without tugging away, which of course made Moon fall forward. Luckily, she caught herself on her hands. She could feel the snapping inside her mind—just another thing leading up to more fury bubbling inside her. If it wouldn't catch up to her father first, it would definitely catch up to her.
Looking over at her mother's scowl that tugged at her face, "Yes, Mother..." A mixture of disgust filled Comet's face. Her heel was lifted to whip a harsh kick aimed at Moon's side that would glide her further away. "It's yes, ma'am." And like that, Comet left, muttering words underneath her breath.
Moon held her side, slowly lifting herself up, small breaths of pain escaping her lips. Meeting the gaze of everyone in the room, they looked at her with uneasy gazes in their eyes, unsure if they should come over to help Moon when she perched herself up. Luckily, Lucian came over, guilt swarming her features.
"Come, my lady... Let's draw you a bath." Lucian carefully lifted Moon in her embrace like she were made of glass. To the young girl, Lucian was as close to a mother as she could get. Moon clung so tightly onto the maid uniform, not saying a word while she was carried off, smooth rubbing caressing her back as a comfort.
Tears threatened in Moon's eyes, but she'd never cry—not in front of anyone, ever, even if they begged it from her.
It had been days since her outfit fitting, and since then, a few dresses had been shipped for Moon to wear for her brother's coronation. Not that Moon had gotten to choose any of them. She had watched her mother sift through all the dresses, because, of course, only she was the one who could make her daughter look like someone she was not. But alas, her mother had picked out a black dress with red detailing and a few gold trims. Of course, the hems had black lacing as well. Good thing her mother had somehow made sure the dress was still appropriate for a child, considering when that whole debacle with her mother happened, it really seemed like she was picking out clothes for herself.
Coronation day.
Moon had always despised parties, large crowds, or anything that involved celebration. At least standing away from the crowd, like a wallflower, was better than what she had to go through before this.
The air felt suffocating as her mother tightened that stupid corset as far as it could possibly go. Moon gripped the vanity tightly throughout the whole process until the dress was finally slipped over her small figure, her hair done up in pretty, flashy braids—some even in the shape of hearts. How did simple maids manage to do that? Whatever. It's hard to say that wouldn't even be the hardest part.
Back in the present moment, Moon watched as guests from all over roamed the ballroom, fascinated by the big display of golds and reds. Maybe when Moon grew older, she'd learn to indulge in the alcoholic beverages these greedy adults drank to forget their own sorrows and enjoy the company of other roaming spirits. Maybe she'd even be able to relax herself and go with the flow of everyone else's inhibitions.
Her thoughts were abruptly halted when she felt a familiar warmth surrounded her.
"Well, don't you look lovely this evening? Certainly not fit for a wallflower," Soltero's voice broke through her musings.
Moon turned her gaze to meet his. A small sigh escaped her lips. "You really think so?" she said, her voice higher than usual due to the crowded ballroom.
"Indeed, Lady Moon," he replied, holding out a hand for her to take.
She gave him a blank gaze. Moon couldn't even get annoyed with him calling her that—after all, they were in a more formal setting. She could practically feel her mother's gaze boring into her side, knowing she'd kill her tonight if she didn't take Soltero's hand like a good, soon-to-be wife.
Reluctantly, she took his hand, and they moved together to the dance floor. Hand on hip, hand on shoulder, hands together—they made slow, elegant movements around the floor.
"I suppose you aren't enjoying your evening, then?" Soltero's sly smile crept up on his lips. "Even when you shine so beautifully, there's not a smile in sight."
"No... but I suppose you saved me from the wrath of my mother, so I can only be grateful."
"Ah yes, the Lady Comet herself. I've heard she's quite the cold woman."
Moon let out a small scoff at his words. "You don't even know the half of it." A twitch of her lip indicated some semblance of amusement, and how little it was, Soltero would take what he could get.
As they continued to glide around the floor, Moon's gaze was fixed on her mother. She was flirting with every high-ranking nobleman who came her way, flaunting her chest and speaking in an overly sweet voice. Her mother had only ever been good at teaching her one thing: how to sway a man's mind with her body. Luckily, Moon was far too young to have any use for that behavior.
Her gaze then shifted to her father, mingling with high-class men who delved into the business of the slave trade—selling low-ranking women like currency. Some of those men had these women dressed up beside them, as if they were worth something. Moon knew, however, that beneath those dresses, the women bore bruises.
Finally, her eyes turned to her brother, who mingled with guests like he didn't have a care in the world.
Her head was spinning. Rage boiled inside her, and corruption slowly cracked at her mind. She hadn't even realized how tight her grip had become. Soltero, too, was watching her closely, following her gaze and taking note of the people she despised. Despite how tightly she held his hand, he made no move to speak up. He understood this was her moment.
Moon was so lost in her growing fury that she was snapped back to reality when the crowd paused, causing both she and Soltero to stop. He released her gently, quickly moving his hand behind his back, reshaping his hand in place—though Moon didn't notice, nor did she care.
Her eyes were drawn to her parents, standing proudly with her brother in front of them. Both her mother and father had their hands nestled on either side of his shoulder, gazing at him with admiration. Seeing them look so happy, so esteemed, made a pit form in her stomach—a knot that churned with every second.
Her father raised his goblet high.
"Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed nobles, and honored guests," he began, his voice resonating through the ballroom. "As we gather in this grand space, filled with anticipation and hope, I stand before you today not only as your Emperor but as a proud father. It is with immense pride and profound joy that I announce the ascension of my beloved son to the throne."
"Throughout my reign, I have witnessed the remarkable growth of our empire. Together, we have faced challenges, celebrated triumphs, and built a legacy that will endure for generations to come. But now, the time has come for a new chapter, for fresh vision and renewed vigor to guide us into a future filled with promise."
"My son, with his unwavering dedication, wisdom beyond his years, and a heart that beats for our people, is ready to lead us with grace and strength. He has been a steadfast companion, learning from our shared experiences, and embodying the values that define our great empire."
"In his capable hands, I have no doubt that our empire will continue to flourish, that our traditions will be honored, and that our people will thrive. His coronation marks not just the end of one era, but the dawn of a new and glorious age."
"Let us raise our glasses in celebration, and with united hearts, pledge our loyalty and support to the next Emperor of our great empire. Long may he reign!"
And just like that, everyone raised their glasses to cheer for their new emperor—her brother.
Moon felt it, the snap, like a breath of fresh air, washing over her body. It was a moment of clarity—her mind, her heart, all at once. In that instant, she knew she would never be that little girl again, fighting for her life. And from the way Soltero stood beside her, watching her, he could see it too. No words were exchanged, but he took her hand in his without hesitation. His actions implied one thing: "I'll stay by your side."