Captain Janlav notices me only then. He offers me a crisp bow and, as he straightens his back, a knowing smile, as if we shared something more than the same side in the coup to come. What could that possibly be?
Then I remember, and again I feel foolish. Elise has lately been sneaking out with him almost every night. My silly sister thinks I don’t know, but nothing can escape the gagargi. He has a thousand eyes and a thousand ears. Ours is the just cause. Together, with the people and my seed on our side, we can’t lose.
“Good.” Gagargi Prataslav glances at me from the corner of his eye. My skin suddenly gets goose bumps. Somehow he knows that I thought ill of him earlier, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. “Stay,” he says to me, and strides to the door to confer with the captain.
My stomach knots so tight it hurts. I have displeased him on the eve of the coup, the time I need him the most. Perhaps my mind is in some ways as weak as Alina’s. But weakness isn’t something an empress-to-be can afford. I pick up the mechanical peacock. I will not let my nerves get the better of me.
“The men are at their assigned places,” Captain Janlav reports to Gagargi Prataslav. It is clear the gagargi doesn’t want me involved in the conversation. It is my own fault.
I turn the peacock in my hands. There, the spring is under the folded tail of iridescent blue-green feathers. I wind the spring before I set the bird back on the desk. Instantly, it starts pecking at invisible seeds, the magnificent tail balancing the movement.
“When the clock strikes twelve, we wake up the daughters and escort them into the observatory. The curtains are already drawn shut.”
I glance at the tiny row of windows above the gagargi’s desk. It might be just my imagination, but the Moon seems to shine brighter. Oh, father, you must know that I take no pleasure in the thought of yanking my sisters out of bed, of herding them through the hallways manned by unfamiliar faces. But it is of the utmost importance they don’t know about our plan. For if something were to go wrong, it must be only I who face the consequences, not them.
The gagargi asks something in a low voice not meant for my ears. Captain Janlav answers as loudly as before. It is good he doesn’t detect the rift between the gagargi and me. “The train is ready, too.”
When the peacock’s head is next raised, I place my little finger under its path. I wait for the beak to fall and pierce my skin. A heartbeat later it does so. I close my eyes and wince in the pain I deserve. Why did I have to start doubting the gagargi? Have I endangered our plans, the coup?
Once my family is gathered in the sacred observatory, I will explain my terms. Mother will step aside willingly and join her sisters in exile. She will order her bodyguards to surrender. There will be no need to spill the blood of my people. It is an inconvenience that I can’t marry the Moon before mother ceases to be, but I am sure my people will accept me as a ruler with Gagargi Prataslav at my side.
“I have handpicked the soldiers for the journey,” Captain Janlav continues, eyes wide with boyish enthusiasm, square chin angled up. “Servants we change at every stop on the way to Angefort.”
A single drop of blood glistens in the Moon’s light. It isn’t my imagination. His light really is stronger now. It cascades through the windowpanes as if there were no veil of dust. It brushes the mechanical peacock to a glorious shine. It bends around the swan bead, and the yellow strands turn golden.
I whisper before I can stop myself, “My father is listening to us.”
Gagargi Prataslav’s head snaps in my direction. For a moment, his jaw hangs slack. Then he pulls his hood up and says, “Step away from the light, Celestia.”
His is the voice I have listened to and obeyed without hesitation. Until tonight, at least. But as I bask in the Moon’s light, I don’t understand why I, the empress-to-be, have done so. My little finger still bleeds. On the desk, the mechanical peacock continues swinging back and forth. Peck, peck, peck goes its golden beak against the scarred surface.
“Join us here.” The gagargi motions at Captain Janlav. The soldier glances at the gagargi, at me. He doesn’t understand what is happening either. “The time has come for you to take your mother’s place and lead this empire into the age of progress.”
“The age of progress,” I repeat before I can stop myself. It is as if he has wound some invisible spring inside me. As if he could control me even from across the room, long after winding up the spring.
Behind me, the peacock continues pecking.
“The age of unity.” Captain Janlav’s eyes shine with fervor. Is he equally affected by the gagargi’s manipulation? How many others does the gagargi have under his influence? By what means did he achieve this?
Though I yearn to drift to the gagargi, I force myself to remain in the Moon’s light. Next to me, the swan lies limp on the stool, dead. Its soul swirls inside the glass bead, the golden strands strengthening more with each heartbeat. I pick the bead up to examine it closer. For there is something about it that—
“Celestia?” The way the gagargi says my name stings like a needle. “Put it down, dear. I have told you before not to tamper with my experiments.”
A chastisement? Since when has anyone apart from mother had the right to chastise me? I hold on to the soul bead with both my hands, and yet a part of me wants to set it back on the desk. It shouldn’t be difficult for me to do as I wish. But it is, and I have to say something. “I will not drop it.”
“No, you won’t.” Gagargi Prataslav looms at me from the door, clearly barely able to resist the urge to stride to me. I realize he doesn’t want to step into the Moon’s light. He is afraid of my father. As he should be.
“Captain Janlav,” I say, bolder now. I no longer know how the night will play out, and even if I could, I wouldn’t try to stop the coup. The Crescent Empire can’t continue to exist as it is. And yet, I have to find out if there is something the gagargi isn’t telling me.
Captain Janlav blinks, and with that he is more present again. He stares keenly at me, for it is an honor to be addressed by a Daughter of the Moon. I say, “On a night like this, many things might go wrong. I trust you will personally take care of my sisters’ safety.”
“The train is ready…” He glances sideways at the gagargi, frowning. He clenches his mouth shut. He folds his arms behind his back.
“The train is ready for my mother,” I say, even as the gagargi glares daggers at me. I cradle the bead in my open palms. The glass feels warm against my skin. “That is what you mean, is it not?”
“Be still.” Gagargi Prataslav lifts his right forefinger up before Captain Janlav can reply. The soldier’s eyes go blank. Indeed, the gagargi has the soldier under his power. “Listen only to me.”
Then the gagargi turns his full attention to me, and when he speaks his voice is thick with what could be concern, but is actually… a suggestion. “Celestia, are you feeling unwell?”
If I were so inclined, if I were to want to return to the sweet bliss of ignorance, I would only have to say yes.
“We have gone through this countless times before. Do you not remember?”
It is as if he is giving me the permission to remember, and then I do remember everything so clearly that I can’t fathom how I could ever have forgotten it. The train is for my sisters. It is better for them to be sent away, in case unrests follow the coup. But what about mother, then? What did the gagargi say about her?
“A deposed empress would pose a risk to our rule.” The words form on my lips on their own, and it isn’t me who is talking but someone else altogether.
The gagargi nods in paternal approval. “And what must we do with anything that places our plans at risk?”