Page 103 of All the Chaos of Constellations
He extended his hand to Novalise once more.
This time, she was forced to accept.
Her emotions were a violent force, and Asher felt every one of them explicitly. Fear swam inside of her, drowning her courage. The panic was there as well, hidden beneath layers of anger and hopelessness.
Asher watched as she walked away with Trysta and the shadow prince. Novalise glanced back once, her lips pressed together in a firm line, sheer determination reflecting back at him.
It couldn’t end like this for them, not with her being sent off to Brackroth. His magic bellowed, a roar of endless torment. Finally, he recognized the merciless ache, the gnawing agony he suffered whenever Novalise wasn’t near. It had nothing to do with the bond.
He was in love with her.
Damn the stars. Damn the fates.
Asher would stop at nothing to ensure Novalise remained by his side for an eternity, or he would die trying.
CHAPTERFORTY-ONE
The city of Celestine was brimming with beauty, a gem among the Houses of Aeramere. Located in the valley of the mountains below her house, it was sprawling, its stone pathways designed to mimic the Faerie Star with its eight points. The buildings were all an iridescent white to enhance the shimmer of the stars at night, their beams and framework made of black opal, stark yet radiant. Glass ceilings carved the skyline, many of them coated with a fine layer of magic that tinted them a deep hue of violet that darkened during the day, then faded away completely at night.
Fountains could be found throughout the city, each one worthy of casting wishes. In the center was an extravagant courtyard where smooth, navy goldstone tiles were laid to take the shape of twin crescent moons. Between the decadent tiles was a large, round silver reflecting pool, its opaque waters reminiscent of liquid stardust. Shops lined the market area selling moonstone, selenite, and other crystal ornaments, while some sold mystical plants and flowers that only bloomed in the twilight or midnight hours. There were bakeries, cafes, and the sweetest fae who usually stood on one of the corners with her wooden cart selling jars of moonlight.
One of Novalise’s favorite places was Moonbeams, the most adorable shop that sold celestial sweet treats and starberry sparkling wine. She made it a point to stop in whenever she was in the city, but unfortunately, her mother had her every move tracked and hadn’t let Novalise out of her sight.
Instead of indulging in a piece of moonberry cake, she was standing on a raised pedestal, surrounded by her mother and sisters, while she was forced to try on yet another wedding gown.
Hopefully, this one wouldn’t be nearly as horrendous as the last.
With her arms held out to the sides, she remained perfectly still, clad in nothing but her silk undergarments, while Astralina, the owner of the shop, wrapped a measuring tape around her waist.
“Suck in, Novalise.” Her mother made a clicking noise from the side of her mouth. Trysta was seated on a blush velvet settee, with her ankles crossed, stirring the cup of tea in her hands. She had yet to take one sip. “There’s not much to be done about your hips, but one deep breath should make the size of your waist more manageable.”
Novalise bit the inside of her cheek to keep from snapping. What did it matter if she had full breasts and wider hips? Her waist was as narrow as it ought to be, but Trysta always attempted to squeeze her into gowns that were a smidge too tight.
“She’s fine, mother,” Sarelle scolded, directing her scorn toward Trysta. Smiling at Novalise, Sarelle reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind her shoulders, then whispered, “Let it out.”
Novalise exhaled a sigh of relief. She was grateful her sisters had willingly come along on this excursion. It hadn’t taken much convincing, but she didn’t want to be left alone with her mother for any great length of time. Caelian and Creslyn were browsing Astralina’s wares, toying with ribbons of every color and admiring bolts of the finest fabrics. At their mother’s unjust comments, however, both of their heads snapped toward Novalise in unison.
It was rare for them to bear witness to Trysta’s churlish behavior, as more often than not, the twins could do no wrong.
Astralina moved in front of Novalise, effectively producing a barrier between her and her mother’s scrutinizing gaze.
“This one is my newest creations, Lady Novalise. Exceptionally fitting for a Starstorm fae.” She draped a length of violet silk around Novalise. The fabric was cool against her skin, embellished with swirling diamonds made to look like falling stars. Beads of gold and onyx were sprinkled throughout. It moved around her, molding to her body for a perfect fit. The neckline wasn’t too low, the waist was snug, and a seductive slit rose all the way to her upper thigh.
“Not the violet,” Trysta said, her voice clipped. “It washes out her complexion.”
The fabric in Astralina’s hands immediately faded from lush violet to somber gray.
Novalise gently placed her hand on Astralina’s shoulder. “I want the violet.”
She stared at her mother, the silent challenge budding between them, expanding like a wall of insurmountable tension.
Caelian and Creslyn shifted on their feet, angling themselves toward the conversation. Sarelle moved closer to the pedestal in a show of support.
Trysta ceased the stirring of her tea, then loosed a dramatic sigh. “Fine. Since your last wedding dress mysteriously disappeared, I suppose this one will have to do lest it vanish, too.”
“It didn’t disappear.” Novalise watched, pleased when the fabric returned to its vibrant violet shade. “I burned it.”
The teacup in Trysta’s hands clattered on its saucer and she gripped it, her knuckles whitening. “You didwhat?”
