Page 163 of The Demon Tide

Lucretia shrinks down, feeling as if she’s a diary read aloud to the whole patisserie.

Soo’s smile broadens, her sharpened teeth on display. “Break with Mage ways in this. You already have in everything else. Go find your mate and bring him the moon.”

Lucretia glances up at the Xishlon orb, the luminous purple moon lightning up the Vo River in a dazzling display of rippling violet, the world transformed into a purple garden, ripe with romantic possibility. And suddenly, Lucretia’s very skin is lit up by the draw of this moon, the way it coaxes a heart’s hidden affections to life and pushes away life’s shadows.

“Listen to me, Lu,” Soo says, leaning farther in, emphatic now. “War is coming to this land. Who knows how much time any of us has. And this festival, it might seem like a frivolous thing, but none of it is trivial.This, toiya—”she motions loosely around at the scattered Noi couples kissing at tables, under plum trees “—thisis the reason to work for a better world.” She laughs, squeezing Lucretia’s hand. “It’s all about the love.”

Lucretia finds herself unexpectedly moved beyond words, a tear sliding down her cheek. And she realizes, in that moment, that fellow Resistance worker Soo, with all her dramatic, Wyvern flair, her outrageous outfits and ribald sense of humor, might have the most important job in all the Realms—revealing people’s love for each other.

Because there’s so much of it.

Everywhere.

“Go find Jules,” Soo insists, her glittering purple lips turning up in a playful, suggestive smile. “Embrace the moon and go claim your mate.”

“It’s the night of the Xishlonmoon,” Lucretia says as she enters Jules’s cramped First Tier apartment. This crowded, port-level section of Voloi is home to many of the Realm’s recent immigrants. She glances toward the window beside him that looks over the river, its curtains shut, as always.

Jules doesn’t look up from where he’s carefully forging residency documents, calligraphy pen to parchment, but his lip quirks. “Ah, yes. Their lavender love moon. Its thrall is...interesting.”

“It’s truly lavender.”

Jules glances up and gives her another reserved smile, his gaze not once straying to her gleaming, formfitting lavender-lace dress Soo gifted Lucretia, with purple Xishlon roses embroidered all over it. Lucretia’s resolve wavers. She knows that she looks like a resplendent garden, come to offer herself to Jules in a dazzling bouquet, ripe for the taking, her black hair streaked with purple glitter, her lips gleaming with Soo’s purple-glimmer lipstick.

“I hear it’s quite lovely,” Jules says warmly, still not noticing.

“Have you seen it, though?” Lucretia presses.

“No. I’m trying to finish these...” His tiny apartment is littered with maps. Maps tacked to the walls and spread out on the table. Official maps of the Eastern Realm as well as secret maps of the sublands. And stacks of forged identity papers to send back to the Western Realm. To help desperate refugees get to Noi lands.

Away from Vogel’s reach.

“Come see the moon,” Lucretia insists.

Jules tilts his head and views her searchingly. “Lucretia, we’ll be advocating for the Black Witch this time tomorrow. These need to be done—”

“And they will be,” she insists, emotion rising in her tone. “I’ll help you finish them. But we need to stop every now and then and remember why we’re doing any of this. It’s...because of Lavender Moon festivals and children dressed in lilac running around trailing strings of runic orbs...young people searching for someone to kiss. This is what we’re doing all this for. So that everyone can have lovely things like this.Everyone.No exceptions.”

Jules stills and looks closely at her. “All right, Lucretia,” he says. “Show me the moon.”

Lucretia strides to the window and pulls the curtains open, the riverside room instantly suffused with purple light, the Vo River shimmering violet below, mountains just beyond.

The Xishlon moon suspended above it all.

Jules sets down his pen and silently takes in the moon, then meets Lucretia’s gaze, serious. “It’s beautiful. What’s troubling you, Lucretia?”

Lucretia forces a deep, wavering breath, every nerve alight. “I spoke to Soo. She...she told me that you’re attracted to me. She said...it’s one of the strongest attractions she’s ever sensed.” Lucretia can barely get the words out, can barely breathe evenly.

Jules’s gaze changes, something powerful flashing in his eyes that she’s never seen before. He looks away, his jaw ticking. “I’m sorry. I’ve always tried to keep that to myself. But I can’t change how I feel about you.” The words are tight with contrition, rigidly contained.

And Lucretia realizes, in that moment, how tightly contained she’s kept her own feelings. Is it any wonder they’ve misread each other for so many years? She takes in his beloved face, washed in lavender. His mussed brown hair, rumpled clothing and tarnished spectacles.

“Well, you see,” Lucretia stammers, “the thing is... I feel exactly the same for you.”

Jules’s eyes widen as they meet hers.

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” Lucretia admits in an impassioned rush.

Jules pulls in a sharp breath and swallows. “Lucretia,” he says, his voice rougher than she’s ever heard it sound, “every time I see you...” He breaks off, as if the emotion is too intense to be voiced. Too long held inside, carefully guarded.

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