She wonders if it’s a bad omen.

Aster fingers the silver pendant on her mother’s old necklace, the chain snapped neatly in two. Maybe all her nervous fiddling with it had finally taken its toll.

Maybe it was about time for an old habit to die.

She sighs and pats herself absently, unsure of where to store the necklace until she can find a way to mend it. You’d think the kingdom’s dressmakers could find the time to innovate hidden pockets amongst the layers of fabric and corsets that ladies of nobility were forced to contend with on the daily. Hale knows that Aster could do with some pockets, especially when she lacked the foresight and sense to carry around a reticule with her whenever she left home. Not that she left home very often to begin with. Or had ever needed to use a reticule.

She looks down wryly.

Oh well. It’s a good thing there’s no one else in the carriage with her.

She pulls open the front of her dress and stuffs the necklace down, hoping and praying that it won’t slip out of her bodice in the next few hours.

Suddenly she lurches forward, the carriage hitting a bump in the road that jostles her right out of her seat. Her nails scrabble on the seat for purchase, pulling herself back into place just as the carriage resumes its smooth gait.

It’s been six years since she’s been to the palace. Six years since she’d taken this very route with her parents under the cover of twilight.

She wonders if it’s remained the same. The royal palace from her memories was a dream built of white marble pillars and towering minarets and gardens straight out of a fairytale. At the very least, she hopes the gardens haven’t changed. They’ve always been beautiful in her memories - perhaps even embellished somewhat, the way your fondest recollections grow more rose tinted the more time passes.

On the seat beside her lies an unsealed envelope, the letter it holds sticking out halfway from its opening. The paper used is thick and cream coloured, scented with an obnoxious perfume that had made Aster sneeze when she’d first cracked it open. Wholly unnecessary, she’d thought wryly. As if the golden seal on the front wasn’t enough of a giveaway.

She doesn’t know why she’d brought the letter with her. It’s not like it served as evidence of her invitation to the palace; not when she’d been personally invited by the royal family.

But it’s the letter that she’s waited all her life to receive. The letter that had granted her a chance of reclaiming her freedom, no matter how short-lived it would be. She only wishes…

Aster unfolds the letter once more, her eyes scanning over the words for the umpteenth time.

It’s the wrong penmanship. The wrong signature at the bottom of the page. Aster had waited for a letter from the palace all her life; and yet when it finally arrived, it was from the wrong person.

She stuffs the letter back into its envelope and slumps against the window, watching the forest roll by in swaths of greys and muted greens. Depressing. Winter has always been her least favourite out of the four seasons.

Lulled by the rocking of the carriage, Aster closes her eyes, and falls into an uneasy asleep.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

She wonders if she’s imagining the audible sound of the grandfather clock ticking away in the corner of the room, or if it’s just her anxiety playing tricks on her again; making her painfully aware of every inconsequential sound and detail.

The Queen of Lucrenz sits across from her in an ornately carved armchair, a teacup raised to her lips as she takes a sip. She flashes a serene smile at Aster over the rim of her cup.

Aster responds with a weak smile of her own, and hopes she doesn’t look constipated.

“Thank you for making the journey here, Lady Aster,” Queen Annaliese says, cup clacking back into its matching saucer. “I’m sure you must be exhausted.”

“I’m a little tired, Your Majesty, but otherwise fine. Thank you again for inviting me to the palace. It’s as lovely as I remember.”

Clarity dawns on the queen’s face. “Ah yes, you’ve visited before. During Rael’s 16th birthday, yes?”

Aster nods. “I didn’t get to venture much then, but I’m looking forward to seeing the rest of the palace now.”

“A lucky thing that you have all the time in the world to explore the rest of it.” The queen smiles amiably at her. There’s something absurdly comforting about her, from the kind slant of her eyes to the wisps of soft brown hair that have managed to escape from her elegant hairdo. “Really, I’m so thrilled that you accepted our invitation to stay here with us. Since Flynn’s coming-of-age is only little more than a year away and the two of you haven’t had much time to spend together, my husband and I thought: Well, why not have you stay here until the wedding?”

It makes sense. So much has happened over the past few years that thoughts of her engagement had been effectively pushed to the back of her mind. She wonders if the same had occurred to Florian.

“There’s no harm in you two growing closer before you’re properly married,” the queen continues. “And although your union is an… arranged affair, I still hope for there to be love between the two of you.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. That would be… nice.” Aster wonders what face she should make. It’s been so long since she’s had to engage in small talk.

But this was the queen she was speaking to. Her… future mother-in-law.

Aster plasters on a bashful smile. “I’m truly grateful for the chance to get to know Prince Florian better, and in his own home at that.” She lets her gaze fall to her lap as her fingers lace themselves together delicately. A tad overdone, but hopefully the queen will overlook it.

Thankfully, instead of looking nauseated, the queen looks rather endeared. “It’s a shame that he isn’t here to greet you. I sent a page after him, but he must be busy. Head always in a book, that one.” She shakes her head with a bemused sigh. “But you’ll be able to see him tonight during dinner. Would you do me the pleasure of joining us, Lady Aster?”

“Oh, please Your Majesty, just Aster is fine. And it’s very kind of you to offer, but…” Aster thinks back to the long carriage ride over and how it had only taken a few hours to whisk her away from the only life she’s known since she was a child. “Please forgive me, but I think I’m feeling more tired than I had initially thought.”

“Oh! Of course, you’ve only just arrived after all,” the queen says sympathetically.

Aster smiles. “Thank you for understanding, Your Majesty. However, I would be more than honoured to join you and your family at dinner tomorrow, if you would have me.”

“I would be delighted if you could join us for every single meal.” The queen practically twinkles back at her. “You’re going to be a part of the family soon, after all.”

Soon. A year didn’t sound very soon to Aster. But maybe time worked differently in the royal palace. Barely an hour in, yet it already felt like an entirely different world.

“I’ll have someone escort you to your room in a bit,” the queen says. “But before that, do have some tea, my dear. You haven’t touched your cup at all!”