Ad Astra

Chapter 18

The next few days pass by slowly, but they are by far some of the most peaceful days I have ever experienced since I arrived to Esterpool. My body will take some time to heal, but I gain enough strength to begin moving on my own. The cuts and bruises on my body are less sore, and the swelling in my face begins to decrease. My ribcage still pains me, and my black eye has begun to turn a grossly green color, but Dr. Thornton is satisfied with my healing thus far.

True to Asteria's word, I spend my days in her quarters. She is the first person to greet me when I wake and the last to say goodnight to me before I sleep. When we are together, we chat, not usually about anything interesting, but the conversation is invigorating all the same. Sometimes in the afternoons we sip tea and talk about how we hope that summer will be warm and the new flowers Asteria wants to plant in the garden. Asteria asks me a little about Landiani; I ask her a little about Magewell.

Though I was spending time dressing Asteria before the incident, I find that our prolonged time together is allowing me to learn more about her. Her response to my attack has already proven she is stronger than I believed, but I learn other small details about her as well. Her favorite color is a soft pastel pink. She is deathly afraid of bees. She has a remarkable sweet tooth. She learned to embroider from her mother, but she has been unable to match her skill. I know none of this information will be helpful to the mission, and yet, I strangely desire to learn as much about her as I can.

Time moves slowly when Asteria has to leave me for hours at a time. She leaves me books, and I often find a comfortable place along her windowsill to read. The weather is warm enough now that I open the windows during these hours. The light breeze and warm rays of sunlight are healing, and I feel a sense of inner peace I have not felt in a long time. I find myself humming, and at one point, even begin to open my mouth in song in the moments I am alone. It has been many years since I have sung softly to myself. One afternoon, Asteria walks in on me singing, and though I am embarrassed and slightly cautious of her finding me singing in my ancient tongue, she is celebratory of my voice and sits back peacefully while I finish my song.

A part of me wishes I could stay in Asteria's chambers forever, passing the days away peacefully. Time seems to stand still when I am here.

But then, there is always the lingering voice in my head, reminding me that I am on a mission, and that the bright, cheerful Asteria I interact with daily will be dead by the hands of my mother's plan in only a few months' time. I wonder when that fact became more haunting.

I consider writing to my mother, but I fear asking for parchment, afraid it will be seen as suspicious, or at worst, be intercepted on its way to the mailbox. I keep all the valuable information I have learned in my head for that reason, but it is made much more difficult by how foggy my mind has been as of late given my injuries. For the time being, I make no effort to write to my mother, and I receive no letters in response.

One evening, I sit alone in Asteria's room while she is downstairs enjoying dinner. My empty tray that Maria brought earlier sits on a nearby table. I hum quietly to myself. A knock echoes at the door, and my heart leaps, suspecting it is Asteria returning from dinner. Instead, Alba enters through the doorway, her hands folded into her sleeves.

Besides Asteria, I have been interacting with Alba and Maria most frequently during my healing process. Since the other maids have been barred from assisting Asteria as punishment for their actions, Alba and Maria are often here caring for the princess and assisting me with my own dressing, meals, and bedtime rituals. Maria usually visits me once a day simply to chat and update me on how the other maids are behaving in my absence.

It is not yet time for me to ready myself for bed, and I doubt Alba is taking the time to merely gather my dirty dishes or check in on how I am doing. I suppose she could just be alerting me that the doctor is coming to visit me again, but he was here this morning already, and I have not been in enough pain to call for him again.