Andromeda

Prologue

"Do you think the camp will be all right while we're gone?"

Chamomile surveyed her home for what seemed like the last time. Silver moonlight fell on the clearing, illuminating several makeshift huts woven from branches and leaves. Trees stood at the edge and embraced the cloudless sky. Thousands, maybe millions of lights speckled the dark above her head. It was quiet—no one in the huts stirred.

"Have some faith in our people," Dandelion said. Our people. It had become her favorite phrase recently, as if the organization she and Chamomile had started was their family. Although in a way, it was.

"Are you ready?" Dandelion slipped her hand into Chamomile's and offered her a small smile, her curly golden hair framing her face. They stood there for a moment, their hands intertwined as if they had been carved specifically for each other.

Chamomile hesitated. "I don't know. But, then again, I don't suppose this is something we could ever be ready for."

A little puff of laughter escaped from Dandelion's lips—but not a humorous one. It was one full of sorrow, but acceptant of their fate. Her hand dropped from Chamomile's and brushed the dagger strapped to her belt. "Guess it's a good thing we decided to learn how to use these things, huh? Imagine if we hadn't all those years ago. Everyone in the Order would call us crazy, practicing with daggers when we have magic!"

The reason for the daggers was the Queen's Guard. Formed by the most skilled magic-users in Leoral, they protected the queen day and night and even went on missions to destroy villages. They had a special ability to detect and disable magic, so Chamomile and Dandelion were forced to use other strategies.

A trace of a smile pulled on Chamomile's lips. Dandelion had this way of working on her; on everyone, really. It was easy to loosen up around her.

"Vallant will take care of the Order until we get back," Dandelion continued. The unspoken if we get back hung in the air. "He took it well when you told him what we're doing, right?"

The silence that followed was answer enough.

Dandelion nodded grimly. "I suspected that might be the case. Hopefully he'll realize this is the only choice. Leoral has lived under the shadow of the Queen for too long! We can't let her keep abusing the villages like she's been doing."

As she spoke the words, Dandelion stood a little taller, her eyes hardened with determination. She was looking not at the camp but at a sea of people, her people, all watching her as she gave a rousing speech. She had a tendency to do this; it was one of the things that had drawn Chamomile to her all those years ago. She was powerful and commanding. It was why she was leading the Order and not Chamomile or Vallant, even though they had founded it together.

Chamomile brushed a strand of hair behind Dandelion's ear. "You'll be great as leader of Leoral," she murmured. "Perfect, even."

Dandelion snapped out of her state and glanced at her wife. "Oh... Chamomile, you know I'm not going to just take over like that. The kingdom will be in enough shock already if we manage to overthrow the queen, and they wouldn't like someone just forcing themself onto them. We'll hold a vote, just like they do in Icekeep."

Chamomile frowned at the mention of the distant country, and Dandelion sighed. "You can't keep doing that, you know. We'll have to form connections with them. We need them. I don't care that they're different."

"Of course." Chamomile tightened her grip on her dagger. "Are you ready to go, my love?"

Dandelion took one last look at the camp before nodding and stepping into the forest.