Frosthelm Galaxy – Quadrant 7, Sector V
To Danika Starbourne,
I write to you not as a mother—but as the Queen of Frosthelm.
You have received my son’s letters. I know this because I have watched him suffer in silence while he waits by the portal with breath held and hopes unmet. Orion is not a man who waits lightly. He was born with the stars in his bones and the weight of a realm on his shoulders. He was never taught patience, only strategy. And yet, for you, he waits.
There is unrest in our court. Whispers. Doubt. A rival circles the throne like a vulture over a wounded beast. His claws grow sharper with every zenith you delay your answer to the fated mate bond.
This is no longer about love or longing, girl. This is about duty.
You were chosen by the stars, yes—but fate alone does not a queen make. A queen must rise. A queen must set aside her fears and forge a path through uncertainty. A queen must sacrifice. Not because she is fearless but because others depend on her strength when their own fails.
If you do not believe yourself capable of that burden, then say so. Speak it aloud. Reject the bond. Spare my son the continued ache of your indecision.
He will recover. His people will rally. We will tell them that the bond faltered, that you were too fragile for the throne and that my son, in his infinite wisdom, chose duty over desire. We will find him a match that can stand strong beside him. The kingdom will move forward without you. You will carry the burden of rejection. The tale will say that you walked away from the stars themselves.
Is that a weight you’re ready to bear?
Or will you finally rise to meet your destiny?
The choice is yours, Danika. But I urge you—make the right one. Make one that exists outside yourself. The realm waits for its queen.
Her Majesty,
Queen Aster of Frosthelm
Dani,
Happy birthday, baby girl! Your dad and I drove here after the wedding to be with you in time for your birthday. But it looks like we missed you.
Hopefully, you’ve met a guy up here, and you’re having yourself a little rebound. That’s my assumption since most of your stuff is still here. I checked your underwear drawer and closet. It just looks like you grabbed a few things for an overnight.
If you are with a new paramour, that’s great for you, sweetie. I just wish you’d brought him to the wedding because, oh boy, what a disaster that was.
Matt showed up with lipstick on his collar. I’m sure you won’t be surprised when I tell you it wasn’t the shade Bebe was wearing. He tried to say it was from one of his aunts, but he didn’t have any family at the wedding. Can you believe Bebe still went through with it? When the preacher got to the “if anyone objects” part, this woman in the back tried to raise her hand, but her friend grabbed it and forced it down. That friend, by the way, had the exact lipstick color that was on Matt’s collar. I’m not saying anything, I’m just saying.
Matt and Bebe spent most of the reception fighting in hushed voices with their teeth clenched and fake smiles. Barbara got drunk and started flirting with the drummer from the band—he looked barely legal, bless his heart. One of the bridesmaids disappeared with two of the groomsmen, and I’m pretty sure someone spiked the punch because your uncle Carl started breakdancing and threw out his back. But Bebe kept that strained Barbie-smile plastered on like it was her dream day.
You would’ve hated every second of it. You were right not to come. You were totally the bigger person in this situation. Honestly, Dani, you dodged a bullet the size of a Buick.
Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy—and not eating too many carbs. And please tell me you googled this guy you’re with and made sure he has a job. At the very least.
On second thought, you’re probably holed up with Liberty somewhere. You two have been thick as thieves ever since you were born. I suppose that makes sense since both our dads were so close. Crazy how two boys from the same hometown ended up at the same observatory. Fate’s a funny thing.
Anyway, get in touch when you’re back. I love you, sweetie.
Love,
Mom
P.S. I brought your favorite cake: red velvet with whipped frosting. I helped myself to a slice and left the rest in the freezer since I don’t know how long you’ll be gone.
P.P.S. These new paintings? Gorgeous. Especially that blue one by the window. I’m taking it for the living room. Don’t argue, it’ll look perfect above the mantel.
Liberty Vega
1473 Bellevue Avenue, Apt. 2B