At the first sign of light, Chris decided "the big day" had officially begun. The butterflies in his stomach were in agreement. He carefully removed Cassie's arm from his chest and slipped out of bed. It felt like he had a hundred things to do, all before she noticed his absence.

Chris washed, dressed, grabbed his daypack, and left the hut. He was off to Ilima.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

Cassie rolled over, expecting warmth and stability within arm's reach. Her hand wandered over a cool rumple of sheets instead.

She sat up, yawned in the warmth of the day, and wondered where Chris had gone. It was his day off, after all, and they had no plans as far as she was aware.

The rumble of her stomach forced her from bed as well. The baby, though probably no bigger than a flea, had a hearty appetite in the morning.

The kitchen and living area were both empty and quiet. The twins were still asleep, so Cassie sat down and ate her breakfast alone. She took her time, hoping someone would eventually join her.

No one ever did.

She was about to go to the washroom for a shower when Chris burst into the hut with enough energy and zeal to brighten the room.

"Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, why?" he said casually, walking in, fast and seemingly with purpose.

She followed him to the kitchen. "How long have you been awake?"

He leaned against the washbasin and did a poor job of subduing his smile. "A little while."

She sidled closer to him. "Where have you been?"

He shoved about half of one of her leftover muffins in his mouth. "Nowhere." Even with food in his mouth, he looked far too entertained for the drab conversation they were having.

Cassie crossed her arms and lifted an eyebrow. "Who did you see?"

"What makes you think I saw somebody?" He was practically laughing now.

She sighed, aggravated at first. Then she was ready to try a new tactic. "I'm going to get a shower." She loosened the tie of her bathrobe and let it fall open. Then she slipped her hands around his waist. "Care to join me?"

"Tempting offer, but I already showered."

She closed the gap between their bodies. "That's never stopped you before." She smoothed her hands over his chest and on tiptoe, began trailing her lips from his collarbone to his ear.

"I know, but . . . I have some . . . uh . . . business to attend to."

She was weakening his resolve. She could tell. The stammering wasn't the only clue. And he was weakening hers. His scent alone—fresh, woodsy, natural—was making her lightheaded, in a good way, and almost too unsteady to remain upright. "Business, you say? What kind of business?"

He was looking down at her, and despite his squirming effort to enforce some distance, his eyes were full of want. "Important. Very important. Top secret."

"You shaved too," she noted, the backs of her fingertips grazing his cheek. "What's the occasion?"

Before the question had a chance to register, she was probing deep into his eyes for the real answer. But he became aware of the invasion too quickly. He blinked away from her gaze and removed himself from her hold.

"Nothing! You. Shower." He pointed over his shoulder at the washroom. Then he put his thumb to his chest. "Me. Business."

She wrapped herself back up in her robe and walked into the washroom. She let the robe drop by the door, just barely out of his view.

When Cassie peeked out a few moments later, Chris was already gone. She shrugged to herself and continued on with her shower.

Later, while Cassie was in her robe again, blotting her hair dry with a towel, she heard a flurry of wings and footsteps. 

Then the hollering began: "Look! What is that? It's huge! Wow. . ."

She quickly pinned up her hair and went to see what was causing the commotion.

The front door was wide open. Upon stepping outside, the jungle was just a jungle. Where did everyone go? She took a few barefoot steps away from the hut.

Cassie gasped when something as large as a flying house obscured all light from above. Whatever it was, she was suddenly scooped up by a giant hand and placed inside of it.

An upward motion forced her collapse to her knees. She crawled around in the darkness, grasping for clues, and soon faced the frightening reality that there was no way out.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

On the eve of Joseph MacRae's "Progress Report," Ursa was trying on gowns in her chamber. Since his confidence seemed to be climbing, she assumed there would soon be a reason to celebrate. Ursa needed to select the perfect gown for said occasion.

Much to her dismay, the process was not as enjoyable as she had envisioned. Although Ursa had recently purchased many new gowns in some of Pyxis's finest dress shops, Alexander did not design them.

Ursa must have weeded through Cassiopeia's bureau full of his gowns a thousand times. Although they were exquisite beyond compare, Alexander constructed them with such precision and fine tailoring that only Cassiopeia's skin-and-bones figure would ever fit into them properly. Ursa attempted to have a few of them altered, but they never looked right without Alexander's fine touch. She would have demanded that he make the adjustments for her, but he disappeared after the Great Restoration and became a legend among the fashionable. Was he dead? Alive? Hiding? Did he escape? Who knew?

While Ursa just barely squeezed her full figure into one of her most promising dress options, not one of Alexander's, she felt some comfort knowing that Andromeda had big plans for her daughter's inevitable homecoming. Ursa hoped the capture of the princess and the death of her lover would be dramatic, humiliating, public, widely reported, and of course, brutal. Above all, Ursa wanted it to be soon. She craved the extra dose of self-worth that only Cassiopeia's downfall would provide.

Blood spills and torture, cries of absolute pain, tears of complete and utter despair . . . adorned her thoughts like the perfect accessory while Ursa rummaged through her jewelry box. She selected her new black diamond earrings and found the pendant necklace to match, both well worth what she paid—and still owed—the jeweler. She bought them for herself, by herself . . . for the most part. Her promotion made it possible and what was Lyra's was now hers. Perhaps it was unwise to fritter away her inheritance and a year's wages, but she was entitled to finer things. A good show was practically expected of her in the position she was now in. Eminent Guardian.

As she lifted the first earring to her ear, it slipped from her fingers. After ricocheting off her vanity table, it disappeared underneath the bed.

With her walking candlestick in hand, Ursa crouched down, bundling the bulky skirt of her dress away from the floor as best she could with her other hand. At a peek, the earring was easy to locate. And while she was removing it from the dark, dusty space, she felt something slide along with her arm.

An unsealed envelope came forth. She used her fingernails to pick it off the floor. Upon turning it over, the candlelight glimmered over the ink. Princess Cassiopeia.

Was it a love note? From Joseph perhaps?

She pulled out the message and began skimming through with gluttonous interest.

My Dearest Niece,

I send to you my deepest regrets . . . unable to attend your wedding. Élodie has fallen very ill again . . . I am afraid I cannot leave her side until her condition stabilizes.

I also wanted to inform you . . . I have temporarily joined Dr. Muriel Renard's medical practice on Middletown Boulevard, number six . . . There are many things you should know about our family . . . I have recovered an heirloom from the Labelle estate. . .

. . . Your father would be very proud.

With Much Love,

Dr. Leo Labelle

Ursa returned the note to the envelope and left her chamber immediately. Queen Andromeda wouldn't mind an interruption. Not for this.

⭐️⭐️⭐️