Page 7 of Of Shadow and Moon

Perhaps he, too, would possess that unearthly beauty. In my mind, his skin would be smooth and cool, tan from the sun that shines down on the Water Kingdom. I imagine his eyes, deep blue, the color of the ocean at midnight, holding secrets no one could ever uncover. His hair, perhaps blue like his father’s, falling in curls down to his shoulders. He’d wear a mask like all others attending, but his would be made of liquid silver, flowing with each movement, blending with his face like it’s part of him. Nazriel, I think, would move with a quiet grace, his steps light, his presence commanding without trying, like the silence.

As the night wears on,I find myself moving through the crowd, my senses heightened. I sometimes wish I could be in attendance to one of these, even though I hate it how they all flaunt their wealth. I wonder how it would be to dance freely, with no expectations weighing me down.

I had just slipped into a quiet alcove when a sudden noise caught my attention.

Before I can react, a man lunges at me from behind a woman in an elaborate dress, a blade glinting in his hand. Instinct takes over, and I parry his attack with my dagger, the clash of metal ringing in the air. We struggle for a moment, our movements a deadly dance of strength and skill. He is strong, but I am faster. With a swift movement, I disarmed him, knocking his blade to the ground.

I pin him to the floor, my knee digging into his chest as I hold my dagger to his throat. He snarls up at me, his eyes filled with hatred but also defeat. It’s as if he knew this was going to happen. I glance up and see Alexander watching, a cold smile on his lips. He gives me a sharp nod, a silent command.

Without hesitation, I press the blade to the man's throat and draw it across in a swift, practiced motion. Blood sprays, warm and sticky, covering my mask and leathers that I just cleaned, as his body goes limp beneath me. I stand up, wiping the blade on his cloak before slipping it back into its sheath.

The room had gone silent, every eye on me. I can feel their gazes, a mix of horror and fascination. I let out a deep sigh, but keep my shoulders squared.

This was what Alexander wanted, a display of his power, a reminder of what I am to the people of Tonalli. I am his weapon, and tonight, I showed the kingdom a firsthand view of what I am capable of. WhatAlexander’s assassin is capable of. What they have only ever heard about.

Diego steps beside me and looks at me, his disgust on full display. He places his hand on the man's chest before he shadow walks them away. Like my sin never even happened.

As the music resumes and the guests murmur among themselves, I slip back into the shadows. The night is far from over, and there are still many eyes to watch, many secrets to uncover. But for now, I have done my part. The princes, the nobles, and even the kings themselves have seen the lengths Alexander would go to maintain his control.

My gaze flicks upward, almost involuntarily, drawn to where the princes stand. I don't know why I care to see their reactions, but something about them pulls me in, a gravity I can't entirely ignore.

Kaelion is the first I spot, leaning casually as he talks to the general of Metztli. His expression is unreadable, a mask of practiced indifference, though the way his eyes lazily scan the room screams boredom. The entire night might as well be beneath him.

Tomas is anything but bored. Women drape themselves over each of his shoulders, their hands possessive as they cling to him. He takes turns nipping at their necks, his lips brushing against their skin with an intimacy that feels too deliberate, too public. It’s a performance, no doubt, one meant to draw eyes and keep up whatever persona he is trying to portray. His laughter echoes gently but even I can tell it’s fake. His smile never reaches his eyes.

Matheus is different. His gaze finds me, but the moment our eyes meet, he looks away quickly, as though my attention burns him. There’s something almost endearing in hisdiscomfort, though I can’t decide if it’s guilt, shyness, or something else entirely that makes him retreat.

Then there’s Rhyker. When I look at him, he’s already staring right at me. His lips curve into a slight smirk, the kind that knows too much, that teases and taunts without saying a word. My pulse quickens despite myself. Slowly, I dip my head in acknowledgment, a small gesture, but enough to test the waters.

Rhyker mirrors the motion, his smirk deepening ever so slightly. The silent exchange hangs between us, a connection I don’t fully understand but can’t seem to break.

I tear my gaze away, the connection snapping like a taut string, and force myself to refocus. My attention shifts back to my post, my senses sharpening as I scan the ballroom. The glittering crowd moves like a restless tide. I catalog every detail, the sway of gowns, the glint of jewelry, the subtle shifts in body language. I need to know who is friends with whom, who hates who, and hear as much gossip as I can, to report back to Alexander.

My awareness stretches outward, encompassing every corner of the room. I cannot afford distractions. As I move through the crowd, invisible once more, I can’t help but wonder how much longer I can keep this darkness at bay. It’s going to be a long night.

Chapter 4

Selestina

The carriage sways roughly along the cobblestone streets. The night envelops us in a blanket of darkness, not even the glow of the lanterns comes through the dim interior. I sit opposite Alexander, my mind still reeling from the events of the evening. The show of wealth of the king's banquet, the spectacle, the whispers, everything went so wrong so quickly. And now I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Alexander's eyes meet mine, his expression his usual mask. He is always hard to read, his eyes like cold steel that give away nothing. After a few moments of silence, he finally speaks.

“Selestina, you're leaving for Obsidian Academy in the morning,” he says, his voice a measured monotone.

I frown. “Just…I'm not supposed to leave for two more days.”

“I know,” he replies. “But after tonight's... incident, it's no longer safe for you to stay. The kings' reactions are unpredictable, and we can't take any chances.”

His words seem practical, almost concerned, but I knowbetter. This isn't just about my safety. This is part of my punishment. The way he says it, the way his eyes twitch just slightly, tells me everything I need to know. He planned this all along.

“You’re taking the route through the Dark Forest,” he continues. “It's less obvious, and you'll be harder to track.”

I swallow the groan I so desperately want to give. Of course, the Dark Forest. A shiver runs down my spine at the thought, and sends me back to the first time I ended up there.

I was six years old, my tiny hands trembling as Alexander blindfolded me. I had viewed him like a father. For the first two years of life with Alexander, he was nothing but doting and loving, then one day, it just…stopped.

I had been excited, thinking it was some kind of game or test. But when the blindfold was removed, I found myself alone in the middle of the forest. The trees loomed tall and ominous around me, their twisted branches blocking out the sky.

---