Chapter One
The twin moons of Zelora hung high in the obsidian sky, their pale light streaming through the crystalline lattice work of Princess Aelira's private chamber. She sat perched on her floating sleep pad, her wild black curls spilling over her shoulders as she flipped through the delicate pages of a forbidden book,one she had smuggled into the palace weeks ago.
The romance novel was an artifact of Earth, filled with stories of princes and commoners falling in love. Aelira's amethyst eyes scanned the words hungrily. Her favorite scene unfurled before her again: a gallant human prince kneeling before the heroine, his voice thick with devotion as he declared, "You are my heart, my beginning, my forever."
"Why don't Zelorian men ever talk like this?" Aelira muttered, her full lips curving into a wistful smile.
She sighed and hugged the book to her chest, tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling.
She didn't fit in. Not in the palace, not among the other nobles, and certainly not on Zelora. She was too much of everything—her curvy figure, unruly hair, and fiery personality made her stand out in a culture that revered slender physiques, sleek hair, and docile behavior. Most Zelorian women were elegant and quiet, their lives devoted to diplomacy or the arts.
But Aelira? She was a warrior princess.
Her father called her his "little storm." Her mother called her a "constant headache."
"Princess Aelira, why can't you just be more refined?" she whispered, mimicking her mother's exasperated tone.
She rolled her eyes and flopped back on the sleep pad, causing it to sway gently in midair. "As if that's even possible."
A soft chime echoed through her chamber, signaling someone at the door. She scrambled to hide the book under her pillow and composed herself.
"Come in!"
The door slid open with a hiss, revealing Prime Minister Xarion Reath, his imposing frame nearly filling the doorway. But the sternness that usually accompanied his public persona melted the moment his eyes fell on his daughter.
"There's my wild one!" Xarion boomed, stepping into the room with an exaggerated grin. His thick silver hair gleamed under the moonlight, and his ceremonial robes swished dramatically as he held his arms wide.
"Father, must you always be so loud?" Aelira groaned, but a reluctant smile tugged at her lips.
"Yes," he said simply, plopping down onto the edge of her floating pad, causing it to dip and wobble precariously. "Now, what trouble are you causing tonight?" He squinted playfully, pretending to inspect her room. "No contraband human novels, I hope?"
Aelira's heart skipped a beat, but she forced a laugh. "Of course not. Why would I risk such a thing?"
Xarion raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced but too amused to press further. "Good. Because your mother would have my head if she knew I wasn't monitoring you closely enough."
Aelira sat up and leaned against him, her curls brushing against his shoulder. "What brings you to my chamber so late, Father? Shouldn't you be brooding over the upcoming treaty with Earth?"
"Ah, yes. The humans." Xarion's playful tone sobered slightly, though his eyes still sparkled with affection. "Tomorrow is an important day, Aelira. Prime Minister Darius Caine and Chancellor Serena of Earth will be arriving."
"Humans," Aelira said with a mixture of intrigue and disdain. "Why must we entertain them? They've been our enemies for centuries."
Xarion chuckled and ruffled her hair, much to her annoyance. "Because peace is worth fighting for, little storm. Even if it means entertaining the enemy."
"Don't call me that," she grumbled, swatting his hand away. "And don't expect me to bow and curtsy for them. I'm not like Mother."
Xarion leaned back, his expression softening. "I wouldn't want you to be. You're perfect as you are, my fierce, wild warrior."
The words warmed her, but they also stung. She loved her father deeply, but his unwavering support made her feel guilty for her constant failures to meet her mother's expectations.
"Do you think they'll like me?" she asked quietly, surprising herself with the question.
Xarion's eyes widened in mock horror. "Who cares if they like you? If that human prime minister so much as frowns in your direction, I'll throw him into orbit myself!"
Aelira burst out laughing, her first genuine laugh of the night. "You're impossible."
"And you're my daughter." Xarion leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Between you and me, I'm much more worried about your mother's opinion than the humans'. She's already planning every detail of tomorrow's reception."
Aelira groaned. "Of course she is."
"She means well, you know," Xarion said gently. "She just wants the best for you."
"The best for me, or the best version of me?" Aelira muttered, looking away.
Xarion opened his mouth to respond, but the sound of the palace gong cut through the air, signaling the changing of the watch. He sighed and stood. "We'll talk more tomorrow, little storm. Try to get some rest."
"Goodnight, Father."
As the door closed behind him, Aelira reached under her pillow and retrieved the forbidden novel. She traced the embossed title with her fingers, her thoughts swirling. Tomorrow, she would meet humans for the first time,beings who, according to her mother, were crude and dangerous.
But according to this book, humans were also capable of great love.
She turned her gaze to the moons outside her window, their pale light shimmering like promises in the darkness.
"What are you really like?" she whispered.
For the first time, she felt a flicker of hope mingling with her apprehension. Perhaps tomorrow would bring more than just politics and pleasantries. Perhaps it would bring answers or even something unexpected.