It was all the confirmation she needed.

“Thank you,” she said, snatching the box away.

The guard bowed and returned to his post.

It took all of Levana’s willpower not to run to her chambers. A maid was there already, waiting to help her undress and wash for bed, but Levana shooed her out without even bothering to have her dress unpinned. Sitting at her mirror-less vanity, she forced herself to pause and to breathe, so that she could remove the plain paper with utmost delicacy. Her fingers trembled as she undid the fastenings, uncrinkled the corners.

Inside the box were shreds of more brown paper and, nestled among them, a small pendant of planet Earth. Silver, perhaps, though it was tarnished and bent. It seemed very old.

There was also a card, hand-printed with dreadful penmanship.

Your Royal Highness,

I hope that giving you a birthday gift will not be seen as overstepping my station, but I saw this and thought you might like it. May you have only happiness in this your seventeenth year.

Your friend, and most loyal servant,

Evret Hayle

A note was added to the bottom, almost as an afterthought,

My wife also sends her warmest regards.

Before she knew what she was doing, Levana had torn off the bottom part of the card, ripping away the mention of his wife and shredding it into tiny pieces. Then she lifted the pendant from the box and cradled it against her chest, smiling, while she read Evret’s words again and again. Interpreting. Dissecting. Again and again and again.

*   *   *

“I’m pleased to report that our bioengineering research and development team has been making great progress these past months,” said Head Thaumaturge Joshua Haddon, standing before the queen’s throne and the audience of aristocrats with his hands tucked into his wide sleeves. “Dr. Darnel believes that the latest advancements in bioelectrical pulse manipulation will result in the successful alteration of natural instincts. With Your Majesty’s approval, the team intends to commence testing on Lunar subjects within the next twelve months.”

Channary popped a fried squash blossom into her mouth and waved her hand at the thaumaturge. After swallowing, she licked the butter from her fingertips. “Yes, fine. Whatever they think.”

“Then it shall be done, My Queen.” Checking his report, Thaumaturge Haddon proceeded to the next matter of business, something to do with a method for increasing productivity in the textile sectors.

Levana wanted to know more about the soldiers. She had heard talk of the ongoing development of bioengineered soldiers for years now. It was a program her father started, perhaps a decade ago, and many of the families snubbed it as a ridiculous concept. Create an army that relied not on their Lunar gift, but on animal instincts? Ludicrous, they called it. Absurd. Monstrous.

Her father had rather liked that description, Levana recalled. Monstrous was precisely what he meant to achieve, and the research commenced by order of the king. Though he was not alive to see his efforts come to fruition, Levana was intrigued by his fantasy.

An entire army of half-men, half-beast creatures. Soldiers who had the intelligence of humans, but the sensory perception of wild predators. They wouldn’t fight by expected and predictable means of warfare, but rather by the basest instincts of hunting and survival to terrorize and pillage and devour their enemies.

The thought gave Levana a chill all along her spine, and not in a bad way. The temptation to control the sort of animalistic strength these soldiers would have made her mouth water. With that sort of power she could forever quiet the mockery that followed her in the palace corridors, the ongoing rumors about the pathetic, ugly little princess.

“Fine, fine,” said Channary through a yawn, interrupting the thaumaturge mid-sentence. “Whatever you think is best. Are we almost finished?”

Joshua Haddon didn’t seem at all put off by the queen’s lack of interest in public policy and her country’s welfare, though it took all of Levana’s efforts to keep from rolling her eyes. Despite the occasional distracted thoughts, she legitimately wanted to know what was going on in the outer sectors. She wanted to hear the court’s ideas for improvement. Perhaps they could simply send Channary off for her afternoon nap and allow Levana to handle the rest.

Though everyone would have laughed her to shreds if she’d suggested such a thing.

“Only one more issue to discuss, My Queen, before we adjourn.”

Channary sighed.

“As I’m sure you are aware, My Queen, our previous rulers, may they rest ever in divine luxury, were in the process of developing a biochemical weapon that we have reason to believe could be quite effective in any negotiation efforts with Earth, especially given our ongoing antagonistic relationship and the possibility that it could someday dissolve into violence.”

“Oh, stars above,” said Channary, throwing her head back with an overwrought groan. “Is all this jargon necessary? Out with it, Joshua. What is your point?”

The members of the court sniggered behind their dainty hands.

Thaumaturge Haddon stood a little straighter. “One of our laboratories has concocted a contagious disease that we believe—though are yet unable to test—would be fatal to Earthens. As our relationship with Earth has been growing increasingly hostile and may continue to worsen if we’re not able to enter into an alliance and reinstate open trade agreements within the next decade, King Marrok thought this disease could be a means of weakening any Earthen opposition, both in numbers and resources.”