*
Levana refused to be haunted by the ghosts of dead children and sisters, princesses and queens. In the year following Selene’s death, she leaped into her role as the new, true queen of Luna.
She continued to strengthen the army, allocating as many resources as she could to allow the scientists to perfect the bioengineering processes. The first group of soldiers began their training, and they were even more miraculous than Levana had imagined. Half man, half beast, all brutality and viciousness. Levana made it her duty to become well acquainted with the surgeries and training of the soldiers. It was a beautiful sight, when the first boys emerged from their suspended-animation tanks, still dazed and awkward with their new instincts and mutated bodies.
And hungry. They awoke so very, very hungry.
She came to know the research team well, headed by the infamous Sage Darnel, though Levana was not as impressed with the old man as she’d expected to be after hearing of his genius for so many years. When she met him for the first time, she could think only of how this man had fathered a shell, and it took all her willpower to listen to his unenthusiastic explanations of the surgical procedures without making snide comments on his worthless offspring.
Meanwhile, the first carriers of the disease were sent to Earth. Levana had heard, years before during her parents’ reign, that some of the citizens from the outer sectors would find ways to steal away in diplomatic or reconnaissance vessels heading to Earth, or pay what they could afford to persuade a supply pilot to whisk them away, leaving their life of labor behind. It was a selfishness that Levana couldn’t fathom—to think that any of her people would consider only themselves and abandon the country that needed them.
Her parents had always turned a blind eye to these fugitives, perhaps not understanding that their society would crumble fast if they could not hold on to their limited labor supply.
But now Levana had a use for these runaways. As the strain of the disease was slipped into the outer sectors, each Lunar gradually became an unknown carrier, and their own immunity would mean they had no idea that they carried within their bodies a lethal disease.
It wasn’t long before the first case of the disease was reported on Earth, in a tiny oasis town off the Sahara.
It spread quickly from there, raging through the Earthen Union like a wildfire. Though the Earthens hastened to set up quarantines for the sick, it was impossible to keep it contained when the secret carriers, the hapless Lunars, stayed so well disguised in their midst.
They called the disease letumosis, from an ancient language meaning death and annihilation, a fitting name as no one who caught the disease survived.
Levana and her court called it a success.
She didn’t know how long it would take to weaken the Earthens. Years, perhaps even decades, before the disease became the pandemic Levana envisioned. But she was already anticipating the time when she would swoop in and offer them an antidote. She was already dreaming of how the leaders of Earth would prostrate themselves before her. In their desperation, they would offer her anything. Any resource. Any land. Any alliance.
She would try to be patient, knowing that the day would come. She would try to ignore the pessimistic mutterings of her advisers and their reports that claimed all of the new labor initiatives she’d put into place were unsustainable. She would not back down now.
Everything was going according to plan. All that was required was patience.
Nearly fifteen months had passed since Selene’s death when Levana was told that Dr. Sage Darnel, head of the bioengineering team, had disappeared as well. Suicide, some suspected, although a body was never found. Many believed that he had never recovered from the birth and death of his shell daughter.
Yet another talented scientist, gone. But when Levana was informed that this would not halt the production of soldiers and that all surgeries would continue as scheduled, she forgot about the old man and his pathetic life entirely.
The years passed. Her legacy grew. The rumors of Princess Selene began to fade. Finally, finally, Levana had everything she wanted.
Almost everything she wanted.
*
Levana stood on the palace lawn, watching as Evret chased Winter and Jacin around the lakeshore. She had finally relented to Evret’s friendship with Garrison and his family, and now they were a permanent fixture in her life, despite how much she wished Evret would befriend some of the court families. The boy must have been eleven now, a couple years older than Winter, slender as a twig and still as pale as the white sand he trampled on. He and the princess, to Levana’s dismay, seemed to have formed an inseparable attachment.
For her part, Princess Winter was growing up to be as beautiful as a love-sung lullaby. Her skin, a few shades lighter than Evret’s, was velvet soft. Her hair had grown into thick curls, tight as springs and glossy as high-polished ebony wood. She had her mother’s eyes, caramel, but with flecks of gray and emerald taken from her father.
Whispers were beginning to circulate. Whereas before, members of the court had mocked the idea of marrying a princess who was nothing more than a guard’s child—now, moods were changing. Though still only a child, her beauty was becoming impossible to ignore. Such a child would no doubt grow up to be a stunning woman, and the families were taking notice.
Levana knew that this would benefit her someday. Her stepdaughter would be an ideal bargaining chip should the need for an alliance arise. And yet, the first time she overheard talk of how the princess might someday be even more fair to look on than the queen herself, Levana’s thoughts had surged with hatred.
Levana had worked so hard to perfect her glamour. To be the most beautiful queen to ever sit on Luna’s throne—more beautiful than her mother, more beautiful than Channary. No longer was she the ugly princess, the deformed child. The thought that Winter could so easily achieve what she had worked so hard for churned in Levana’s stomach.
It did not help that Evret spoiled her mercilessly. They were never together for more than a moment before the dandy child was hoisted up on his shoulders or swung around like a spinning toy. Though Evret refused to ever dance with Levana at the royal balls, she had caught him teaching Winter what waltz steps he knew. His pockets seemed to always be full of those sour apple candies the princess was so fond of.
Levana reached for her throat, wrapping the Earth pendant up in her fist. There had been a time when Evret brought her gifts too.
Down the shore, the children’s laughter sparkled as bright as the sunlight on the lake’s surface, and Evret laughed as much as any of them. Each note was a needle in Levana’s heart, undoing her.
There had also been a time when Evret would have asked her to join them, but it was not queen-like to run and laugh and roll around in the sand. After she had waved away his requests too many times, he stopped making them, and now she regretted every time she’d stood by and watched.
Watched as Evret lifted a squealing Winter over his head.
Watched as Garrison’s wife fixed them cheese sandwiches that were devoured as greedily as anything the royal chefs ever prepared.
Watched as Jacin showed Winter how to build a sandcastle and then how best to destroy it.
This was a family, all of them, happy and carefree.
And despite all her efforts, all her manipulations, Levana had never become a part of it.
“Sweetheart?”
She started, prying her attention away from the children to see Evret clomping toward her. His pants were soaked up to his knees and covered in white, sparkling sand. He was as handsome as the first day she’d laid eyes on him, and she loved him every bit as much. Knowing that made her feel as hollow inside as carved-out wood.
“Is that the charm I gave you?” he asked, his teeth glinting in a refreshing smile. It melted her and stung at the same time.
Levana unclasped her hand. She hadn’t realized that she was still gripping the old, tarnished charm.
“I didn’t even know you still had it,” said Evret. Reaching for her, he looped a finger beneath the chain. The touch was brief and deliberate and made her dizzy with the same spark of yearning she’d felt as a teenager.
“Of course I still have it. It was the first gift you gave me.”
A shadow fell over his expression, one that she couldn’t translate. Something sad and distant.
With a tap against her sternum, he let the charm go. “Are you just going to stand here watching all day?” he asked, eyes twinkling again. Maybe the shadow had been only her imagination.
“No,” she said, unable to return more than a tired turn of her own lips. “I was about to go inside. There’s a new trade contract with TX-7 I need to review.”
“A trade contract? It can’t wait until tomorrow?” He cupped her face in his hands. “You work too hard.”
“A queen does not keep office hours, Evret. It is always a responsibility.”
His expression turned scolding. “Even a queen has to relax sometime. Come on. Come play. It won’t hurt you, and no one would dare to criticize if they saw.”
He said it like a joke, but Levana thought for sure there was tension underlying it. “What does that mean?” she said, pulling away.
His hands fell to his sides.