Androsa’s sentiments never left Asterin’s mind as she walked through the crowds. What did it mean to choose how one died? What if you could avoid it all together? Wasn’t that an option?

Asterin kicked at a small pebble, managing to keep ti close in front of her as she continued along the road, not at all aware of the lessening crowds as she accidentally veered a bit too far right—entering Embassy Row instead of North Vil. She only noticed when the bangs of construction equipment caught her attention, and she looked across the central pond that separated the rows of empty embassy buildings from the House of Parliament.

From what she remembered, the entire structure did not survive her ex-husband’s attack. And with the limited resources left in the Sky, they were forced to rebuild it with cheaper materials, which meant they often had to commit construction crews half of the year to provide upkeep maintenance.

Asterin paused in the middle of the street, staring at the structure she once wished she could enter. How many months had passed since she allowed herself to look at it?

He did this… Her eyes burned. My ex-husband, my captor… my tormentor.

Gods… what was this ache in her heart? A heaviness hung in her core that threatened to weigh her down through the ground and to the Surface itself. And in a way… she wished it would. Anything to help her ignore the evidence of her ex-husband’s crimes that she tried for so long to ignore… along with her part in it…

“Crazy, isn’t it?” Someone sidled up beside her—a young woman with golden eyes and dark horns that stretched a bit far behind her head. “To think one person could destroy a building made of valmetal.”

Asterin peeked over at the woman, a bit wary that perhaps she knew who she was, but there was not a trace of recognition surrounding her. Instead, the woman’s entire attention was on Parliament.

“My mother served as a member of the arms committee. She wasn’t even supposed to be at the meeting that day, but she heard the False Heir would be there.” The woman scoffed, the sound cut off as her eyes grew wet with tears. “Well, she met him.”

“Does anyone know why they did it?” Asterin couldn’t help but ask.

She shook her head. “Rumor has it that the Duke was facing some push-back on his candidacy for the throne when the Empress inevitably steps down. But I don’t see how killing half of Parliament and the Emperor was meant to help him do that. There is no way to justify killing innocents. I’m sure they would have preferred better deaths.”

Asterin frowned to herself. What, then, would constitute as a ‘good’ death? Would it be what Androsa said, or…?

“That’s the second person we’ve lost today.” Asterin stiffened at the sound of familiar voices.

“Father is going to kill us,” Amos muttered.

She turned her head slightly to see a small group of Wanderers walking down the street.

“I should be going,” Asterin said to the woman who had kept her brief company.

Said woman looked between her and the Wanderers and sighed. “I don’t blame you. They’ve been knocking down everyone’s doors to look for the bastard’s wife. I hope they give her the same punishment as what he should suffer.”

Asterin resisted the urge to wince. Sure, she knew of the general sentiment regarding her continued aliveness irked a good majority of those in Skirion, but to hear it first hand was something else entirely.

Still, even as she walked away into the night—this time aware of where she would end up, she couldn’t help but glance back at the building the Wanderers entered. Hells, it was the only embassy in the row lit up.

An idea sparked in her mind as she remembered what Androsa mentioned about the gates and the keys the Wanderers held.

It would be absolute suicide, but…

At least this way she would be choosing how she went out.

#

“Sorry, I must have misheard. You want to what?”

Asterin took in a deep breath. “I want to break into the Wanderer Embassy for a Celestial Key.”

Faraldin sat frozen in his chair, pen still lifted above the paper. He hadn’t moved since she barged into his office with her declaration, intent and determination clear in her voice as she spoke.

“These aren’t some cowardly merchants or some run of the mill thugs, Asterin. They’re trained soldiers. Most of them hundreds, maybe thousands, of years old. They will dispatch of you before you even make it past the front gate.”

Asterin shook her head. “You’re right. I normally wouldn’t. But,” she pulled his calendar from the wall and flipped forward a month—her mind still racing with the plan that had formed on her walk back, “on this date I can.”

Faraldin took the calendar from her, stiffening as his eyes landed on the date she pointed out.

“How do you know about this?”

She grimaced. “Let’s call it a hunch.”

He huffed. “Well, that certainly takes care of the security portion. Once you’re in there, then what? Do you know the layout? How many will be staying behind?”

Asterin just stared at him.

“What about how you’ll escape? What you’ll do if you encounter one of them? Hells, how are you getting in, in the first place?”

She bit her tongue, cheeks flaming as she realized there hadn’t been a solid plan behind her idea—his words poking so many holes in it that she couldn’t imagine claiming it to be a worthy one. She sunk inwards.

He’s right, it’s stupid. Idiotic. Completely suicidal and deranged. Proves that I am my ex-husband’s wife in terms of terrible ideas. And yet… and yet…

“I don’t want to wait around for them to find me out, string me up, and parade me around for everyone else’s entertainment. The consequences remain the same whether I stay here or not. At least help me have a choice in how it happens. Don’t let me known as someone who just stood by and expected someone to help her.”

Faraldin remained silent. She forced herself to look away from him, her gaze landing on the wall of wanted posters. Hers and her ex-husbands, side by side, a difference of a mere hundred gold separating their bounties. Even though she had nothing to do with his crimes, really.

She was just complacent and told no one.

Her hands balled up into fists at her side. She didn’t want to be tied to that dreadful man anymore.

A deep sigh brought her back to the present, where she found Faraldin leaning back in his chair and pinching his nose bridge.

“You really want to do this?” He asked.

Asterin nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see her. “Yes, I do.”

“Then we don’t have a long time to plan.”

She perked up. “Really?”

Faraldin sat up straight and pulled a variety of documents from the folders around him. “It will take a bit to organize it all, but I will treat it as a top priority.”

She took a seat in front of him. He paused.

“Asterin, if you manage to succeed, I can arrange for you to go to the Surface without worry that they’ll search for you. The Celestial Key is the hardest part of the process.”

Her mind traveled to her brother, of where he could possibly be. Maybe she could make contact with him?

She nodded. “I’ll do whatever is necessary.”