Try Try Again (80/80)

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To Ama’s great disappointment, Miro did not ask Ardent to marry him at dinner time, or on the next day, either. The day after that, Ardent returned to Try Again, alone, at Miro’s insistence. “You have work to do, that will not wait, and which I have kept you from for weeks already. I’ll be well enough to travel in a few days. I shall join you very soon, my lady. I give you my word.”

Four days later, Ardent was at home in her little kitchen, surrounded by the smell of fresh bread and simmering curry. The kitchen was well organized and spotless, as was the rest of the house. She’d built an extension for the house with aether while still in the Sun Etherium, and Jinokimijin had lent her a golem so she could haul it back to install. The new extension was almost as large as her original house. It included a second bedroom, a living room, and a new workroom with ample built-in storage. Ardent moved everything from her original workroom to the new one, and turned her front room into a dining and sitting area instead.

Now she was making dinner, and looking at acres of reaped ground through her kitchen window. A few dozen of the new barbarian fey that Jinokimijin had made out of mortals had chosen to settle in Try Again after hearing Ardent lived there. They’d harvested her crops for her; many of them had experience with farming. So she’d had plenty of time to get the house in shape. And wonder when Miro would arrive.    

“Mmm,” a voice said behind her. “That smells delicious. Did you make enough for two?”

Ardent spun about, crossed the kitchen to the doorway where Mirohirokon stood, and swept him into her arms. “You came.”

“Where else would I be?” He kissed her, holding on tightly. “This is the best place in the world.”

“Mmm.” Ardent kissed him in return, then rubbed her cheek down the side of his face and nosed at his throat. Miro was a little taller now, she thought, and broader through the chest and shoulders. He looked vibrantly healthy, like any fey fresh from an Etherium with a renewed body. “You smell like aether.”

He relaxed in her embrace, tilting up his head to allow her better access. “Would you like some, my lady?”

Ardent pinned him against the wall, one arm under him to support his weight, and licked his neck. “Love, Miro, how do you do that?”

He flattened her hair under his hands, cradling her head closer. “Do what?”

“Be so tempting.” She nipped at his skin. “I shouldn’t waste it.”

“Aether spent on your pleasure is never a waste, my lady,” Miro murmured. “Also, it may be easier to replenish than you think, if the phoenix rose is still around.”

“Mmm?” She licked his throat again, distracted, and he whimpered with desire.

Breathing faster, Miro pulled a trinket from his jacket pocket, a hoop of white gold and rubies. “I brought the teleport extractor. Perhaps the phoenix rose will oblige you on a trip or two.”

Ardent blinked at it, and laughed. “Maybe.”

Miro wrapped his legs around Ardent’s waist and pressed a kiss into her hair. “Does my lady have any other objections?”

She held him braced against the wall, ran one arm over his side, feeling the strength in his lean, strong body. “I’m afraid of hurting you,” she admitted, her breath warm against his skin. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

“I’ve been casting spells and reabsorbing aether at a normal rate since yesterday. I’m sure. And if it hurts, I will tell you to stop. And you will,” Miro said, relaxed, confident.

Ardent pressed her lips to his neck. The tide of aether brushed against her mouth like his pulse, and she opened herself to let it flow in. Miro gasped in pleasure, his body eager and pliant in her arms, as she drank him in, sensual, slow.

Some minutes later, the curry on the stove began to burn. Some minutes after that, Miro flicked aether over the stove fire to extinguish it, and the two of them continued what they were doing, unabated.    


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The Only Thing I Really Want (79/80)

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After breakfast, Miro and Ardent went for a walk along the palace’s parapets, which were more akin to a decorative walkway than a mortal fortification. They walked slowly, and Ardent made Miro promise he would stop before overexerting himself. The high vantage offered a magnificent view of the city. Now and then, they’d stop for Miro to point out landmarks of significance to him, and sometimes teleport to them for a closer look. “Everything’s changing now.” Miro gestured to one of the spires that stretched to the sky above the palace. “The old Sun Queen would never have tolerated that.”

“How would she stop it? She couldn’t force people to stop building, could she?”

“Not the way Dad stopped her, no. But she didn’t have to. Lots of people agreed with her that the architectural unity of the city was its glory and must be maintained. They’d’ve ostracized any who tried to violate it. That combination was always enough to deter it.” Miro rested his arms on the parapet rail and looked at some of the colorful additions sprouting on buildings below.

“Are you gonna miss it? The architectural unity.”

“I don’t know. I always thought I hated the sameness of it, but…the unplanned, haphazard layout of the Moon Etherium was overwhelming. Perhaps Sun will settle on something in between. I can hope.” Miro looked up as she leaned against the rail next to him, then slipped a hand around her waist and leaned against her side.

Ardent put her arm around his shoulders and bent her head to place her face against his hair. “Are you really gonna ask me to marry you at dinner time?”

“Yes. Unless you’d rather I didn’t. I can ask you right now instead. Or tomorrow. Or in two years. Or never.” He closed his eyes and breathed in the clean pure warmth of her soul. “I know it’s too soon. I should not have brought it up.”

“Hon, it’s fine.” She lifted him into her arms to embrace him and look into his eyes. “It does seem a little soon. And sudden. All right, a lot soon. I’d been basically living with Whispers Rain for eight months before I asked her to marry me.”

“That’s very sensible.” Miro looped his arms over her shoulders. “Just what I would expect of you.” He pulled himself closer to her, pressing his cheek to hers. “I do not need you to promise me eternity. That is, I am confident that I would like to spend eternity with you and that I shall not change my mind. But I am happy to take each day as it comes, and to be grateful for that.”

“‘Grateful’.” Ardent made a face at him. “Miro, honey, I’m already over seven feet tall. I’m a little uncomfortable about this pedestal you keep putting me on.”

“I assure you, I have an entirely realistic view of your perfection,” Miro said, earnestly, then laughed at her expression. “My apologies, Ardent. I shall attempt to bridle my admiration. In the interests of planning on a less grandiose scale: how long did you wish to stay in the Sun Etherium? Do you need to return to the Moon Etherium soon? Or to Try Again?”

“Ugh. I’ve missed half the harvest by now. I really should go back to Try Again, if only so Relentless and the others know I’ve not forgotten them.” Ardent set him down on the parapet rail, and rested her chin on his shoulder. “Skein wanted me to stay longer in the Moon Etherium.”    

“She forgave you for not telling her about the phoenix rose? Or did she never learn the whole of it?”

“She forgave me, more or less. I’m afraid there might still be mortal slaves left there. Found several and freed em, but that doesn’t mean ‘all’. And there’s more mess, but there’s always been more mess and that never kept me there before.” Ardent exhaled, and circled an arm around Miro’s back. “To be honest, sugar, the only thing I really and truly want right now is to be with you.”

Miro closed his eyes and squeezed her. “Thank you for that.”

“I should’ve come for you sooner. That ridiculous vow. I should’ve known…”

“Pft. That ridiculous vow was my idea. So was violating it. You are not responsible for the consequences of my actions,” Miro said. Ardent screwed up her face, unconvinced, so he kissed her. “I love it when you make faces at me. Ama is right: you truly are adorable.” Ardent stuck her tongue out at him, and then they were both laughing and embracing.

After a long pause for caressing and kissing, Ardent spoke again. “All right. I don’t know exactly what I should do next. I’m thinking, ‘Go back to Try Again and harvest whatever I can before the weather turns. Then hike back to the Moon Etherium and see how things are going there and if I can actually help.’ Long term…I miss Try Again. I dunno if I can explain the barbarian life in a way that makes sense. I love the aether and the power and the easy Etherium life, but the longer I stay in one the more I feel like…I don’t know. Like living in one makes me insulated and isolated, wadded up in cotton and unable to touch anything real. That doesn’t make sense. Of course you’re real and I’m touching you right now. But…”

Miro kissed her as she trailed off. “It’s all right. I don’t expect you to move to the Sun Etherium for me. You know, I’ve always spent a lot of time out of the Etherium. I never resigned my affiliation, of course. But Dad’s research meant a lot of hours traveling, in the Broken Lands and even into mortal worlds. Mortal culture is fascinating. So different, from world to world.”

“I know! And their stories! They’re so short-lived, and they spend so much of their lives scrabbling just to stave off death a few more years. I can’t help feeling bad for them. But there’s so many more of them than fey. Millions upon millions, maybe billions of them, I don’t know. The fey shard is so small. You ever think about staying on a mortal world after the fey shard passes? On one where the shard comes back regularly to it, so you’d know when to come back. But just travelling the whole of the Old World for a hundred and twelve years, really seeing it.”

Miro smiled. “You make Dad’s exile of our enemies sound almost pleasant for them.”

“Heh. Exile beats dying, anyway.”

“It does. And I think I would enjoy exile, were I exiled with you.” Miro laced his fingers through hers. “But we can start with Try Again, first. Perhaps you can make a barbarian farmer of me.”

Ardent lifted his fingers to her lips and kissed them. “Is that something you really want to do, Miro? Or are you just saying it to please me?”

He smiled at her. “I’ve spent most of my life plotting to overthrow my mother. Well, no reason to do any more of that. I am in need of a new purpose, my lady. Yours sounds interesting.”

Ardent studied his face. “It’s just. About marriage. Eternity’s a long time to promise. And I guess…I think I’m asking too much, hoping you’ll love me enough to love a hard life. I don’t want to do to you what I did to Rain. And let’s be honest here: she may’ve been the one to suggest divorce, but I’m the one who left. I could’ve gone back to the Moon Etherium instead, but I wouldn’t.”

“I am not Rain. I like the Broken Lands. But I can wait to convince you. Besides.” He leaned back and pointed over her shoulder. “Life in Try Again may give me the opportunity to study the only free phoenix rose in history. Since you’re the only person it likes.”

She glanced back, to see the bird perched on the rail of a tower balcony several yards above and to one side of them. It cooed querulously at her. Ardent turned to face it, leaning back against the rail. She conjured up a dish with some cacao pulp in it and cooed back. The phoenix rose flew down to land on her outstretched arm. It pecked at the dish a bit, then ignored the rest in favor of settling on her arm with its feathers fluffed. “What do you suppose it wants?”

“To bask in the glory of your soul.” Miro snuggled against her side. “What more could anyone want?”


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Parental Blessing (78/80)

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Miro slept soundly for the first time since his return to the Sun Etherium, and knew why when he woke in Ardent’s arms. He smiled, stretched, and curled into a ball against her. She kissed the top of his head. “Good morning, love.”

He burrowed in against her. “You’re real. I didn’t dream you.” For the past week, he’d been haunted by his obligation to her, the rope of it knotted black by his betrayal, by his separation from the person he’d given himself to. He’d felt as though it were strangling him: he’d belonged to her. He’d had no right to keep himself away from her. Miro had been physically too weak to make the journey of a hundred eighty miles to the Moon Etherium, and even so he’d set out more than once. Only to pass out within a quarter of an hour; Ama or a golem would then drag him back to bed. All that balanced his desperate need to fulfill his vow against his body’s weakness was Ardent’s order: “Don’t die.” Which meant that taking care of himself at least technically fulfilled one of her commands. It had nonetheless made recuperating an unsteady process, as his physical inability to fulfill his vow itself made him sicker and weaker. Being freed of that tangled, corrupted obligation was a weight off his soul. Miro knew he was not yet healthy, but he was far healthier. He could feel the reserves of aether that had soaked into him during the night: still low, but enough for true spellcasting and not just glamour.

“Nope. Absolutely real.” Ardent took his hand and placed it against one breast. “See?”

“Mmm.” He caressed her through the thin silk of her sleeping gown and pressed his face against her breast to kiss the upper curve. His hand slid down to her waist, discovered the gown had ridden up, and stroked the soft fur of her hip. Miro uncurled to slide one leg between hers, and cupped her rear to pull himself hard against her. “I want you,” he whispered. He nipped at her breast through the gown, sank down to find her nipple stiffening against the fabric and tongued it.

She arched into him with a whimper. “We probably shouldn’t.” Ardent stroked a hand over his hair and cradled his head to her. “You’re still sick. I don’t want to wear you out.” But she parted her legs for him and let Miro roll her onto her back to nuzzle at her other breast.

“I know.” He knelt between her legs and pressed his clothed hips against her bare skin, stifling a moan at the inviting warmth of her, his body attenuated with need. “I do feel much better. You can’t imagine how much of a relief your presence is. Just to have you here, Ardent…everything is easier.” Miro sank down against her, squirming an arm under her to hold her close.

Ardent canted her hips into his and wriggled, making him tighten his grip. “Maybe if we were really careful…”

“Love, Ardent.” Miro gasped, and stripped away his nightshirt with a flick of aether. “Yes. Please.”

“Hey, you supposed to be casting spells? Are you all right?” Ardent asked, freezing in alarm.

Miro kissed her in answer. “I did say I was much better. If I promise not to overexert myself, may we…?”

She whimpered as he slid against her. “Yesssss. But you better be careful…”

They made love gently, with Ardent moving to the top in short order. She and aether did most of the work while Miro meekly deferred to her lead. The frustration of feeling both physically and magically inadequate as a lover melted away under Ardent’s obvious pleasure, and the joy of union with her.

As they cuddled afterwards, a folded paper messenger in the shape of a white-and-purple bird interrupted them. “Want to have breakfast with my dad?” Miro asked Ardent, after reading it.

“Will you be there?”

“Yes. I think I’m even up to sitting at a table for a while.”

“All right, then.”

§

The Sun King had breakfast laid out for them in a garden courtyard, on a gold and crystal table. Flower beds with peonies, daffodils and tulips in bloom surrounded them, in defiance of the autumn season. A spell spun their fragrance into ethereal music: light, airy, sweet, uncomplicated. Jino’d invited a couple of other fey, and Miro introduced them to Ardent properly this time. “Ardent, this is my sister, Prin – sorry, Chancellor Amalatiti. And this is our friend, Layotaloyon. Did you get stuck with a new job yet, Talo?”

Talo shrugged. “Technically. It doesn’t come with a title, though.”    

“I can give you a title,” Jino offered. She’d taken a female form today: short but more adult and curvaceous than the form Fallen had forced on her, not to mention far more formally dressed. Her face was similar to Jino’s male one, but softened, with a narrower jaw and larger eyes. The circlet on her brow identified her to Ardent.

Talo made a warding gesture. “No, no. Thank you. I’m good without a title.”

Jino offered her son a put-upon look. “Mirohiro, I begin to see Ele’s problem. None of the people I will trust with power want it.”

“You’ll manage, Mom.” Miro bent to kiss her forehead, then pulled out a chair for Ardent before taking one beside her for himself. The furniture resized itself to accommodate the satyress’s larger form.

“I suppose it’s not too late to attempt the artificial incubation of a phoenix rose,” Jino said, glumly. Then she looked at Miro and brightened. “You look well, my child. You’re not just faking it this time.”

Miro chuckled. “What need have I for pretense? Ardent is right here.” He took Ardent’s hand, and beckoned over one of the drifting serving trays.

At Ardent’s raised eyebrows, Ama said dryly, “Miro’s been trying to convince us for five days that he was well enough to travel, if we’d just give him a little magic to help.”

“Really?” Ardent eyed him. “Honey, you were barely well enough to cross the room last night.”

“Some days have been better than others. But I truly am better now. Look, magic.” Miro snagged a couple of stuffed pastries from a tray with aether, and floated them to his plate. Ama applauded, and Miro gave her a mock bow, then offered one to Ardent. “These ones are my favorite. Stuffed with cheese and aether berries.” Miro fed it to her from his fingers after she bent her head to accept.

Across the table from them, Ama laughed. “Oh, Ideals! You two are ridiculously adorable. Will you have no consideration at all for our delicate Sun Etherium sensibilities, Miro?”

“I’m sorry, is there someone other than the five of us?” Miro made an elaborate show of looking around for more, while Jino and Talo grinned. Ardent licked berry juice off his fingers and sat back.

“There’s me!” Ama protested. “What about my delicate sensibilities?”

“You? Perhaps I’m misremembering, but are you not my sister Amalatiti who took a barbarian lover? As a dragon? While flying over the Sun Palace?”

Ama shook her fist. “That was almost good enough to dislodge Peli from last place, too!”

“What did Peli do?” Ardent asked, incredulously.

Talo and Ama laughed, while Jino sat back in her chair and rubbed the back of her neck. “We don’t generally talk about it.”

“They seduced Dad,” Ama said, jerking a thumb at Jino.

“I would like to note that I am not related to Peli in any way. Nor was I at the time,” Jino commented. “Also, they’re twelve years older than me. It’s not as if I lured my vulnerable young former step-child into bed.”

“It was three days after the divorce,” Miro told Ardent.

“In my defence, I didn’t know they were going to brag about it to the entire Etherium. In song form. At a concert for the Queen,” Jino said.

“That was a great song,” Ama said, wistfully.

“I loved that song,” Talo said. “Do you think Peli’d perform it for Jinokimijin’s ascension celebration?”

“Ooh, I should ask! I hope they still remember it.”

“So these are the members of my family that I like, my lady. In case you wished to reconsider your association with me,” Miro told Ardent.

“I’m not a member of his family,” Talo pointed out. “Just a hanger-on.”

“You’ve been hanging on since you were five. You’re family,” Miro said, in a tone that brooked no argument.

“Not reconsidering. You’re gonna have to do worse than this, sweetie.” Ardent had her eyes on Miro’s, a smile on her lips.

“Good,” Miro said, and leaned in to kiss her, then nibbled at her berry-flavored lips.

Too adorable. When will you ask her to marry you, Miro?” Ama teased.

“Dinner time.” Miro kissed Ardent again, then glanced at Ama, who was being uncharacteristically silent. She blinked at him, stunned.    

“Are you in truth?” Talo asked, on her behalf.

Miro nodded, watching Ardent again. She was smiling at him, the corners of her black eyes crinkled up.

“Ideals, Miro. Um. Sorry to ruin the surprise, Ardent,” Ama said, at last.

“Oh, it’s not a surprise. She told me to ask then.”

“I was thinking dinner time yesterday. Didn’t realize how late it had gotten.”

Miro glanced at Ama again, and said to Ardent, “We’ve rendered her speechless again! I am not sure this has ever happened twice in the same year before. Don’t worry, Ama. I’ll give her some time to come to her senses before we wed. If she accepts me.”

“This might be a little abrupt,” Ardent agreed. She leaned back and broke her gaze on Miro to ask Jino, “So what about you, your majesty? Didja have a better match in mind for your crown prince than a barbarian from a tiny village?”

“Me?” Jino touched her fingers to her breastbone. “A better match for my son than a fey of power and influence among mortals, barbarians, and the Moon Etherium alike? Than the fey who saved his life and mine, and gained me my throne? No, I cannot imagine a better match.” She took a sip from a crystal goblet of orange juice. “Well done, Mirohiro.”

“Thank you, Mom.” Miro had a bite of his own roll. He sought Ardent’s hand with his free one, laced his fingers through hers, and squeezed.


Don’t want to wait until the next post to read more? Buy The Moon Etherium now! Or check out the author’s other books: A Rational Arrangement and Further Arrangements.

Reunion (77/80)

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“Let me go in first.” Jinokimijin had teleported them to a golden antechamber, decorated with relief carvings in white marble. “Just to let him know.” Ardent acknowledged with a nod, and the Sun King opened the door.

A woman’s voice inside said, “—the Etherium, you’re delusional. Please lie back down before you fall over.”

“I am not delusional, Ama.” Miro’s voice sounded thready, but she recognized him at once. Ardent’s heart clenched, and suddenly she was glad she hadn’t ported in next to him. I’m not ready for this. “Ardent’s here, I just need a flight spell to…uh…” He sounded confused.    

“Good afternoon, Mirohiro,” Jino said, walking in. “What’s the matter?”

“Hello, Dad. Did you bring Ardent with you?”

“He keeps insisting Ardent Sojourner’s in the city.” The woman sounded put upon. “I don’t know how he thinks he’d know.”

Ardent eased the door open and moved into the doorway. It was a Sun Etherium bedroom, bright, cheerful, full of gold and crystal and alabaster decorations. A Sun Host woman was walking away from a rocking chair in pursuit of Miro, while Jino had a hand out to intercept his son.

Miro stopped halfway between the bed and the door, eyes locked on Ardent. “My lady.” He looked like a sickly mortal: too pale, gaunt, eyes sunken. He stepped forward again, half-staggering, but nonetheless evaded the grasp of both Sun fey and approached Ardent. He dropped at her hooves, in a move that mixed kneeling and falling; Miro had to touch the fingers of one hand to the floor to catch his balance. “I – I don’t know what to say, my lady. I’ve wanted to see you for days; you should not have had to come to me. I deceived you and betrayed your trust in me, and I don’t know how to apologize for it. I hated doing it, but I did so intentionally and I would do it again. I crave your forgiveness, but how can I ask for it when I cannot even repent? I…” He trailed off, voice shaky. “I needed to be a better servant to you.”

“Oh, Miro, honey—” Ardent bent to touch his shoulder, then dropped next to him. She curled her legs beneath her and drew him into her arms. “You did not betray me. You did great, honey. You did everything I wanted you to do. I release you. You hear that? You don’t owe me anything. No more vows, no obligations. I release you from them all.”

Miro sagged into her embrace, letting her pull him unresisting into her lap. He whispered, “No, you don’t understand what I’ve done.”    

“Well, if you lured me here so you could trap me as your Moon Host channel, fraid I already quit Moon again. So it ain’t gonna work out.” Ardent curled him against her chest as he gave a half-chuckle. “You’re still free. I don’t even care if this whole thing is just an act to make me feel sorry for you and let you out of your pledge. I never wanted that Justice-deprived oath anyway.”

“Oh,” the unfamiliar fey woman said. “And I was so confident Miro had to be exaggerating about how kind you were.”

“I’m not that kind.” Ardent crinkled her nose. “Just don’t take advantage of people.” She shot Jino a glare. “Whether they deserve it or not.”

The Sun King wiped tears from his eyes and bowed deeply to her. “Thank you, Lady Ardent.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t do this for you, either.” Ardent kissed the top of Miro’s head, then stood with him in her arms and carried him back to the bed. “Can we talk in some privacy here, or do I need to swear three times that I’m not going to abduct your crown prince first?”

“She’s not going to abduct me,” Miro added as she set him down. He shifted to sit up, and the bed rose at his back to support him at a comfortable angle. “Also, Ardent, I want you to know that for almost the entirety of my life I have been perfectly capable of walking under my own power. Since you seem to have known me exclusively in the small fraction where my mobility has been questionable. Just so you don’t think this is typical.”

Ardent laughed. She perched on the bed beside him and took his hand, twining their fingers together.

“Come, Ama.” Jinokimijin touched the fey woman’s shoulder. “We can leave them in peace for a bit. Farspeak if you need anything, Miro. Lady Ardent, if you would do me the great kindness of letting me know when you leave? Miro should not be left alone while convalescing, and inconveniently forgets this from time to time.”

“All right, Dad. Nice almost-meeting you, Lady Ardent.” Ama gave a little wave. Jino motioned a pair of golem attendants out the door, and then the two Sun fey teleported away.

Now that they were alone, Ardent felt unaccountably nervous. She shifted on the edge of the bed, so that she sat sideways with one leg curled before her, facing him. “I like the lack of teleport blocks in your Sun Palace,” she said, to cover it. “And here I thought Sun Etherium would be more conservative than Moon in all things.”

“It used to be. Dad took the teleport blocks down this week. As long as he’s king anyway, he wants to get rid of some of the pointless, inconvenient traditions so that people will think of change as a good thing. And perhaps give up their own bad habits more easily as well.” Miro smiled a little. “We are not altogether confident of this reasoning, but at the least, less unnecessary walking.”

“Heh.” Ardent lifted her free hand, wanting to touch his face, and then put it down on the bed again instead, not sure if she really knew where they stood. “How are you, Miro?”

His brown eyes brightened, lighting on hers, and he squeezed her hand. “You are here. I could not be better.”

She chuckled. “No, tell me truly, Miro. What did your dad mean by ‘convalescing’? You don’t look exactly healthy. And you’re still depleted. Why don’t you have any aether in you?”

“Aftereffect of too much channeling. My body is rejecting taking aether in again. That’s why I look terrible, as well; trueshifting doesn’t work properly on me right now, either. It’s getting better, actually. I’ve soaked in a little aether since yesterday, enough to cast a glamour or two. Not much, but enough to give me hope I will not always be this crippled. And in any case, I’ll live.” He smiled. “Ardent’s orders.”

“‘Don’t die,’” she quoted, her voice low. “Thank you for not dying, sugar.”

“It was the least I could do,” Miro said, and hesitated.

Ardent caressed his fingers with hers, then moved her hand deliberately to cover her other one against the bed. “So. You and your dad hatched a plot together to use the phoenix rose to depose and exile the worst person in the Sun Etherium. While you were at it, you just happened to take out the worst person in the Moon Etherium, too. Way I see it, you did the Moon Etherium a favor. That happens to be the way every decent person I talked to in the Moon Etherium sees it, and some of the questionable ones, too. Even Skein’s happy.”

Miro smiled. “Is she?”

“Yup. Don’t know that she’s earned it, but maybe she’ll’ve learned a lesson from all this. Anyway. You didn’t tell me you wanted to give the phoenix rose to your dad because you figured I wouldn’t’ve trusted him. Which is, y’know, true enough. Your dad’s reputation didn’t exactly engender trust.”

“He did that on purpose,” Miro said, quietly. “He wanted fey to underestimate him.”

“Sure worked on Fallen.” Ardent shifted on the bed, a slight, stifled movement. He was so close; it made her heart ache not to hold him. “Point is, you were right to think your dad could be trusted with the phoenix rose. He did let it go. And you were right to think I would not have trusted him, or helped you get it to him. I’m all in favor of Truth, but he’s not my highest Ideal. Justice is, I guess. You probably noticed me messing with poor Truth quite a bit while we were in the Moon Etherium. I got no cause to complain that you did, too. You made the right decision.”

“Thank you.” But Miro’s brown eyes remained troubled. “If you think we chose correctly, why are you angry at my father?”

“I think you chose correctly. Your father’s a monster who almost got you killed.”

“I am a grown man, Ardent. My father did not coerce me into any of this. It was my idea to find a former Moon Etherium barbarian to escort me in and use me as a channel, in fact. And that it be me, specifically, because I was High Court and would be a more powerful channel than my father. We did discuss inverting the roles – myself making the bargain with Fallen, my father going to find you, or another barbarian enemy of Fallen’s. But it would not have worked. My talents were better suited to opposing Fallen, and Dad’s better suited to handling her.” Miro raised a hand to cup her cheek. “To be honest, I had by far the better end of this situation.”

She tilted her head into his fingers. “I bet you’re a lot more fun than your dad is,” she murmured, then fought to clear her head and ask the things she needed to know. “So how much of this whole thing did you plan? You knew all along about the phoenix rose, right?”

Miro lowered his eyes, indigo lashes shadowing his gaunt cheeks. “In essence, yes. Dad has been researching unusual forms and applications of aether for forty years or so, with an eye towards deposing the former Sun Queen. I started to assist in his research when I was thirteen or fourteen, but he did not explain the reason for his interest until I was almost thirty. Strictly speaking, he did not tell me ‘Shadow of Fallen Scent has already found the phoenix rose you and I were looking for, so we need to enact a contingency plan’. But only because he wanted me to be able to tell you truthfully that I didn’t know it was a phoenix rose he’d been trying to get to. So I wasn’t certain. But based on the circumstances, I suspected that’s what had happened. Fallen discovered the plant-nest, took the bird, and did not take the root, which Dad knew she’d need later. So we waited in the area until she came back for it, and then we staged the whole false-race affair. So she would take Dad. Then I went back to the Sun Etherium to pretend I was exhausting my resources there in a desperate effort to free him. And then to you. In fairness, my desperation was quite genuine.”

“And you had to go back to the Sun Etherium because…?”

“Verisimilitude. If I’d come first to you, you would have wondered why I was so well-prepared with a plan to cover an event I’d supposedly been unable to anticipate. We’d made a list of eleven former Moon Host barbarians who might be able to help. One of the others was even in Try Again. So the plan didn’t depend on you specifically agreeing. But you were at the top of the list. Especially after I saw you.” He smiled at her then, and the look of adoration in his eyes made her forget everything else for a moment. “Anyway, when I told you ‘no one in the Sun Etherium will help me get him back’, that was true. But mostly because our allies would be needed in position in the Sun Etherium upon Dad’s return. I don’t think anyone but I and perhaps Ama knew he planned a coup. But Dad had a lot of sympathizers in his distaste for Mother and her laws. So I spread the word that something big was coming and they should be positioned to provide support and keep the general populace calm. A propaganda war, as it were.”

“Heh.” Ardent shook her head. “So your dad didn’t intentionally let Fallen get the phoenix rose first, did he? That wasn’t a deliberate gamble to get him a Moon High Court channel as well as the phoenix rose?”

Miro hesitated. “I…am certain it was not. That is to say, yes, we’d been aware for decades that Fallen was also researching the same subject. When we discussed contingency plans should Fallen find the phoenix rose before us, we were aware that this contingency had certain advantages. First that Dad would have a channel to draw on when he returned to the Sun Etherium, and second that the Sun Etherium itself would likely be weakened. However, the phoenix rose alone would have sufficed. Fallen and the low sun aether were lagniappes, but there were far too many risks and variables to this plan. If Dad had found the bird first, he would have claimed it.”

She eyed him. “You say you’re certain, sugar, and yet it sounds like there’s a ‘but’ in there.”

Miro sighed. “Dad did kind of pick Fallen to be our rival in the Moon Etherium.”

“What? How do you ‘kind of pick’ a rival?”

“There have always been other researchers in this field. Dad had some tidbits about the possibilities make their way to Shadow of Fallen Scent decades ago, to gain her interest. He figured she would drive out the competition in the Moon Etherium, because she was very good at social and political manipulation. But she was neither a good researcher nor experimenter, so she would not be a truly dangerous rival herself. And she had many enemies; no one liked her. So if she did pose a threat, it’d be easy to recruit allies against her.”

“That’s…seriously twisty reasoning.”

“I did mention the part where Dad cultivated the image of incompetence for forty years so he’d be underestimated, right? He’s had a long time to work on this plan. And phoenix roses are only born when the Old World and the fey shard intersect. We always knew our first chance at it would be this season.” Miro smiled. “And granted, we very nearly failed at the end. But we did not.”

You almost died at the end. “And now you’re crown prince, instead of ninth-to-eleventh favorite.”

“And Dad’s king.” Miro rubbed the back of his neck. “After the way we manipulated you, I imagine we deserve no less than for you to think that power was our motive.”

Ardent looked away. “No. If power’d been your motive, you’d’ve kept the phoenix rose. Unless it dies after two weeks in captivity or something, and you just didn’t tell me.”

“No. He could have kept it. Fallen’s notes would tell you as much, I imagine, if you do not trust ours.”

“I trust you.” Ardent took a deep breath. “Maybe I shouldn’t. But I do. So! You said earlier that I didn’t understand what you’d done. Any other details you want to fill me in on that I missed?”

Miro rested against the angled mattress, thinking. “I believe we covered everything I’ve lied to you about. Am I still forgiven?” He watched her, eyes earnest and worried.

“Yeah, you are. So you and your dad didn’t discuss how you ought to bed your Moon Etherium native to ensure her goodwill?”

Miro laughed and shook his head. “No, and if we had discussed it, it would have been ‘on no account should you risk your host’s goodwill by attempting to bed her’.”

“Not even if she’s throwing herself at you in the most pathetic way imaginable?”

“That is not how I remember events at all.” Miro circled a hand behind her neck, fingers curling against tightly-kinked hair. He drew himself forward and kissed her. She leaned into him, wanting this to be real, to be true, even if nothing else had been. He broke off after a moment, breathing heavily, and touched his forehead to hers, under her horns. “Ardent, my beautiful lady Ardent,” he whispered. “I have done nothing to deserve anything at all of you, least of all this. But if you are asking if my interest in you was feigned: no. Rather, it was understated. I have never wanted anyone as much as I desire you, never known anyone so worthy of admiration, of love. I can ask nothing of you, not after all that I’ve taken already. But if I could ask one thing, it would be the opportunity to see you again, and again. To become someone worthy of your love, and thereby perhaps to gain it.”

Ardent shifted position to lie beside him and gathered him into her arms., She ran one hand down the length of his body and clung to him with a breathless half-laugh. “Miro, I don’t know if your opinion of me is too high or of yourself is too low or both, but you’ve definitely got something out of whack there. Also, I don’t care which it is. Also also, I love you, and you can see as much of me as you like. And I didn’t mean that as innuendo but it works either way.”

Miro pulled his head back to look in her eyes, astonished. “And you say I am mad,” he said, then kissed her.

“You are.” She kissed his lips in return, then his cheek, jaw, throat. “Wonderfully, lovably, utterly mad.” Ardent shifted to straddle him as he ran his hands up her soft-furred thighs and lifted the hem of her chiton. She kissed him again, then sat back on his thighs, her hands on his chest. “You’re probably too sick for actual lovemaking still, aren’t you?”

“Probably,” Miro admitted. “I am open to making the attempt anyway, or to cuddling instead, as my lady prefers.” Ardent shifted to snuggle in against him, pillowing her head against his chest. He dipped his head to rest his face against her hair. “I have missed you so much, my lady. I was sure you’d be furious with me. Are you quite sure you’re not furious?”

“Pretty sure. I was furious when your dad first disappeared with you, but mostly because I thought you’d tricked me into helping with some plot to use Fallen as a channel and sabotage the Moon Etherium. Once it was obvious what you’d really done, I didn’t mind so much. Also, it was hard to stay angry when I was afraid you might be dead.” Ardent nuzzled her cheek against his chest and pushed his robe open to caress his far side. “Love, but I am glad you’re alive.”

Miro stroked her curly hair, traced the curve of one caprine ear. “Me too. Sorry, but, earlier – did you truly say you loved me?”

Ardent giggled. “Yes. I love you. In case you needed to hear it again.”

“Oh. It just seems so improbable. I am having a difficult time crediting it. You’ve only known me a handful of days, and you seem to have such excellent judgment otherwise—”

Ardent laughed and thumped his chest playfully. “You haven’t known me any longer than I’ve known you, and you said you loved me first. Well, strongly implied that you loved me, anyway.”

“I love you,” Miro said at once. “But it’s different for me! I can see your soul.”

“What difference does that make?” She turned her head to rest her chin on folded hands and look up at him.

He smiled, slow and sensual and sweet, and Ardent almost forgot her resolve not to exhaust him with an attempt at lovemaking. “Because your soul is amazing, Ardent. You have the most astonishing, beautiful, pure soul I have ever seen.”

Ardent raised her eyebrows, giving him a skeptical look. “Pure? Me? Hon, I think your soulsight’s busted.”

He laughed and bent for a kiss. “That is the trouble with being the only person I know with this talent. I can hardly verify it with anyone else. Only my own experience. Which has born out my impression of your soul, in every particular.”

“Uh. You were paying attention to all those times I lied back in the Moon Etherium, right? Deceived my own queen because I didn’t want her to have the phoenix rose? Let my ex-wife believe I’d come back for good so she’d drop by and fool around with me? Almost killed you? I’m no paragon, sweetie.”

“I know. Life does not admit paragons.” He hugged her, pressed his lips to her shoulder. “You did what you thought was right, not what was most convenient or would make your life easiest. If you’d done that, you would never have taken me to the Moon Etherium. You are the most wonderful person I have ever met, and from the first moment I saw you I have wanted nothing more than to remain by your side forever. Is it too soon to ask you to marry me? It’s too soon, isn’t it. I should give you a chance to come to your senses first.”

She curled a hand behind his head and giggled. “It’s too soon. You should wait until at least, I don’t know. Dinner time?”

“I had dinner before you arrived,” Miro said. “Oh, wait, you mean dinner tomorrow. Very well, I shall ask then.”

“Is it that late already? Today kinda got away from me.” Ardent stifled a yawn. “At least you didn’t. Mmm.” She set her head against his chest again, rotating an ear down to listen to his heartbeat, slow and steady. “Is it all right if I sleep here with you? You wanna farspeak your dad that I’m staying? Wait, can you farspeak your dad?”

“I would be extremely disappointed if you did not sleep here with me, and yes, I can message him. With the same farspeaker enchantment you made for me. I am growing quite accustomed to a lack of magic. In case you feared I could not adapt to a barbarian lifestyle.”    

“Hah. Guess we can figure that one out at dinner time tomorrow, too.” I should probably eat something before I go to sleep, Ardent thought. She used a flicker of aether to change her chiton to a nightgown and get rid of her underwear, and then drifted off to sleep anyway.    


Don’t want to wait until the next post to read more? Buy The Moon Etherium now! Or check out the author’s other books: A Rational Arrangement and Further Arrangements.