Page 13 of All the Chaos of Constellations
“If my mother has it her way, I’ll be married off by the end of the Season.” Reif shook his head once, then adjusted the rolled sleeves of his shirt, intentionally drawing Cyra’s gaze to the tattoo of cresting waves wrapping around his forearm. “But I prefer to be the one to break the rules, not make them.”
Obviously.
That wasn’t surprising in the least, given Reif’s careless nature.
“In any case,” he added, rocking back on his heels, a smug kind of expression yanking the corner of his mouth upward into a smirk. “I’m sure my mother will be pleased to know I’ve already set my sights on someone.”
“Really?” Cyra clasped her hands together, near giddy with the prospect of being the first to hear who the legendary Reif Marintide planned on choosing for a bride. “Who?”
Reif grinned, then nodded toward the dais. “That one.”
Asher followed his line of sight and every muscle in his body tensed with apprehension when his gaze landed on Novalise.
Over his dead fucking body.
CHAPTERFIVE
The observatory was teeming with nobles from all five houses, and the air was charged with weighted expectations. Novalise shifted, uncomfortable in her own skin. It was too warm, too crowded. The bodice of her gown was crushing her ribcage. She felt as though her breasts were on full display, and with every ragged inhale, she struggled to catch her breath. Pinpricks of anxiety crawled up her spine, causing her gut to clench and seize. Her palms grew damp, and she swore every soul in the room could hear the erratic beating of her heart.
Calm down,she scolded herself.
She could do this. She could face her fate in front of all these people. After all, she was a Starstorm. Her entire life was spent in the spotlight, under Ariesian’s watchful eye, ensuring she never took a single step out of line. The dutiful oldest daughter who did everything expected of her. She attended every party with a smiling face, completed everything that was asked of her, and held herself to the highest level of perfection. Novalise could handle a simple star reading. It wasn’t like her entire destiny was hinged on this one night, like every hope and dream she’d held close to her heart was all culminating in this singular event when the stars finally aligned.
Novalise sucked in a shaking breath.
No pressure. Absolutely none. All she had to do was stand there and look lovely, ignore the fact that every pair of eyes in the room were focused on her, and the stars would take care of everything else. She had nothing to worry about, not a concern in the world.
Her heart skittered uncontrollably.
Then why did she feel like it was all about to come crashing down upon her like a violent rogue wave? Like a swift undertow ready to drag her beneath the surface of the relentless sea?
Her chest rose and fell in rapid succession.
Her breathing grew shallow.
Queen Elowyn, rigid yet lovely in her own way, stood off to the side of the dais, the edges of her beauty blurred.
Novalise blinked. Her mother appeared before her, and the delicate scent of her perfume was suddenly too cloying to tolerate. The intense fragrance of rosewater and bursting florals caused a dull ache to pulse at the base of Novalise’s neck, all the way up to her temples. Her mouth was dry and papery, her stomach a mess of tangled knots. But her mother, Trysta Starstorm, the renowned Reader of Stars, seemed oblivious to her eldest daughter’s turmoil.
“My darling,” she crooned, beckoning Novalise from the safety of her siblings. Lifting her arms, the sheer fabric of her sleeves tumbled to her elbows and the stack of bangles she wore on each wrist clinked together like the chords of a tragic strain. Her mother’s hair, white like freshly fallen snow, was twisted back from her face, and pinned into place by a comb of shimmering selenite. She motioned for Novalise to join her. “Come forward.”
Novalise forced her feet to move, urging herself closer to her mother’s side while attempting to smile. The ground was unstable beneath her feet, the inlaid moonstone seeming to tilt and whirl with every step. Or maybe she was the one who was struggling to remain upright while the world around her started to spin out of control.
Fingers curling into her palms, she bit her nails into her skin until the initial pinch of pain went numb. Another heaving breath caused her blood to rush. It echoed in her ears, loud and reverberating, drowning out all other sounds. Everyone was staring at her. Watching her. Waiting for her to crumble. Her strength was wavering. Panic sluiced through her, shredding her confidence, leaving her stricken. From beside her, she knew Queen Elowyn was speaking, addressing everyone in the observatory, but her words were garbled. Disoriented, Novalise couldn’t hear anything over the thunderous beating of her heart. The outskirts of her vision darkened, fading into an unfocused smear of color.
She thought she heard her name.
Novalise pulled her gaze from the queen to her mother.
Trysta’s mouth was moving, but no words were coming out. Her dark brows pulled together, lips pinching. Again she opened her mouth, but it was too slow, like time had stilled altogether.
Novalise shook her head and the room swayed. She needed to escape. To run from away from here. To flee.
There was a strange tug on her heart, and she scanned the crowd of onlookers only to find him staring up at her. Concern rippled around him in waves so dense, she was surprised he didn’t knock over everyone around him.
“Breathe, Novalise.”
That voice. Asher’s voice. It took up residence in her mind, weaving in and out of her dreams, haunting her heart.
