Even as she was making her country stronger and more stable, there was one burgeoning problem that Levana couldn’t ignore.

Luna’s resources were dwindling faster than ever, just as the reports had said they would. Only regolith seemed to be in endless supply, but their water and agriculture, their forest industry and metal-recycling plants were all dependent on the space within the atmosphere-and-gravity-controlled domes, and the materials that had been brought up from Earth so many generations ago.

More luxuries, more diverse crops, more military weaponry and training grounds and shipbuilding, all equaled fewer resources.

The court representatives warned her that they could not sustain this level of advancement for more than a decade or two.

On the screen, Emperor Rikan was leaving the stage. The crown prince was fidgeting with his necktie. The people of the Commonwealth were crying.

“Earth,” Levana whispered, tasting the word on her tongue, and it felt like the first time she’d said it. Or, the first time she’d meant it. Earth. “That is what we need.”

And why shouldn’t they take it? They were the more advanced society, the more advanced species. They were stronger, and smarter, and more powerful. Earthens were but children in comparison.

But how best to take it? There were far too many Earthens to brainwash, even if she divided her entire court among them. Though letumosis was spreading—it would be years still before she could make use of her antidote. And her wolf soldiers were not yet ready for any sort of full-scale attack. There was still so much work to be done if she had any hope of taking Earth by force.

But as she learned from Channary, one did not always have to take things by force. Sometimes it was better if you made them come to you. Made them want you.

A marriage alliance then, just as Channary had dreamed for herself, all those years ago. Princess Winter would make a good match for this boy, but Winter had no royal blood. The alliance would be too superficial.

No, it had to be the queen. It had to be Levana. It had to be someone who could, someday, someday, produce an heir to the throne.

Pressing her lips, she turned off the screen.

She would have to do it, she knew. For the people. For their future. For Luna.

For all of Earth.

*   *   *

She could not remember the last time she’d come to his chambers in the middle of the night, and Evret seemed surprised by her presence. They had barely spoken since their argument, and when Levana tried to kiss him, he rejected her as kindly as he could.

Still, he didn’t ask her to leave.

She wondered if he was remembering her as she was beneath the glamour, and the thought hardened her heart. The way he had looked at her—the real her—iced her veins.

She stripped away his resistance, piece by piece. So gradually and gently he wouldn’t even know she was tampering with him. He would think it was his own heart beating a little faster. His own blood running a little hotter. His own yearning growing inside him as he finally gave in and pulled her into his arms.

Love is a conquest.

Even knowing that it wasn’t his choice, would never have been his choice, his kisses still elated her. Even after all these years, she loved him. No matter what he said about their marriage, that much was real.

Afterward, Levana stayed curled up in the crook of his arm, her head pressed against the hollow of his chest, listening to the lulling drum of his heartbeat. She ran her thumb over the stone wedding band he’d given her, twirling it around and around her finger. She knew that she would never again wear the Earth pendant after this night, but this band she would never take off. She would carry it with her for always, for eternity.

The pendant represented the love Evret had never had for her.

But the wedding band represented the love she had always had for him.

Love is a war.

Though she’d been expecting the muffled thumps from the corridor, she still startled when she heard them. Two royal guards, incapacitated. She wondered if he decided to kill them or merely knock them unconscious.

Evret stirred in his sleep. His arm tightened instinctively around her and Levana squeezed her eyes shut before she could cry.

From this day forward, you will be my sun at dawn and my stars at night.

The bedroom door burst open, crashing loud against the wall. Evret jolted upward, simultaneously pushing Levana aside.

A dark silhouette filled the door frame.

Later, when she had time to process it all, Levana would be amazed at how quickly Evret reacted. Even pulled from sleep, his instincts were immediate and alert. In one movement he shoved Levana off the bed so that she was protected behind the mattress and rolled himself off the other side. A gunshot flared through the room. The sound was deafening. It wouldn’t be long before more guards came running.

“Majesty, stay down!” Evret yelled. From somewhere, he had a knife. Of course he had a knife. He had probably slept with it under his pillow since their wedding night and Levana had never known.

She didn’t stay down. Instead, she gripped the tumbled blankets and watched as Evret flung himself toward the intruder, and she silently said her good-byes, even as tears trekked down her face.

The knife was only a hair from the intruder’s chest when it froze.

This was not a shell like the one that killed her parents. This was a much more skilled assassin. A much more dangerous one. As Levana’s vision adjusted to the light pouring in from the corridor, she watched Evret’s eyes widen in recognition.

Although Head Thaumaturge Haddon had retired some years before, he had never fully left the court. Or, as Levana had guessed, fully given up on his ambitions. He had reached the highest position in court that he could achieve without being royalty himself.