Drown the Stars

By Quiana Chase

To the aquatic people of Zivea, the only thing worse than a coward is a Weeper.

Sir Vaine, newly knighted for ruthlessly slaughtering thousands, is both. She is perfectly fine with that.

The cowardice and the Weeping, anyway.

Vaine does everything she can to leave the battlefield behind, using her one royal boon to become a tutor in hopes that she'll finally be left alone.

Despite her best efforts, she becomes a volatile toy in the hands of the dangerously alluring god-Queen and her bloodthirsty court.

Each attempt to escape scrutiny increases it.

 

Even small choices provoke heavy consequences.

 

And every day, the galaxy becomes more dangerous for the children she's determined to protect.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Quiana Chase
• Release date: Jan 28, 2025
• ISBN: 9798992629217

Book preview

For Amanda. Thank you.

CONTENT WARNINGS

The following content warnings contain potential spoilers.

This book contains:

Violence

Gore

Grief

Vomit and nausea

Domestic abuse (Physical and verbal)

Loss of limbs

Children in peril

Death of a young adult mentee/student

Sexual themes and propositions

Manipulation

Power imbalance

Profanity

Social prejudice and discrimination

If you have more specific questions about the content of this book, you may contact the author at [e-mail]

My dearest daughters,

I know this letter will probably never reach you, but I’m going to send it anyway. I can't help but be furious and overwhelmed with the sickening truth that you've been sent to die, and for what? The broken pride of the Crown? Wokmaw, as dangerous as it is, has barely achieved space travel. They are no threat to us if we just leave them alone. If the Crown (May they dry out and burn) would just accept that this is one war they can't win, instead of turning the cliffs of Wokmaw violet with the blood of our daughters and sons, maybe Zivea would be a bearable place to live.

Years ago, I made peace with the fact that your mother and I would never see your faces again. But I'd always hoped that you would live a good life instead of dying like...this.

Face your end with your chins up high. We will do everything we can on our end to make sure your ghosts never mingle with those who did this to you. Don't forget who you are. Vaine, you carry the legacy of Weepers on your shoulders. It's a good legacy, a brave legacy, no matter what anyone says.

Iris, you carry Vaine.

Love, forever and ever, your Papa

Daso

My beloved daughters,

I'm not sure what to think. We mourned you. We wept for you. We held funeral services for you. We released your souls into the sky from Draxus and prayed you'd make your way to the oceans. We are not fools; we know what it means to be stationed on Wokmaw.

If you truly are alive, and your last letter was not the result of some cruel joke played on grieving parents, please understand our hesitation. The story spun to us is wild, too wild, to be believed without question. I know my daughters. I know they would never forsake their pride and roots to work for the same people who murdered their brother.

But, if I am wrong, then I would prefer this tale to be true rather than the one we currently believe. I can't speak for your father. You know how he feels about the Crown. So, please, forgive him if he lashes out at either of you. He thinks you're just Stoics who thought it would be funny to impersonate his dead daughters.

I pray that you are truly alive.

If not, you are worthy of mourning.

Your Mother, Tealenn

Smoke in the air with text AI-generated content may be incorrect.Chapter heading featuring the word "One"

TWO WEEKS POST WOKMAW

SEVEN YEARS BEFORE ASSASSINATION

Vaine hadn’t done anything worthy of knighthood, yet here she was.

Remember, her sister Iris said, affixing an ostentatious mantle to Vaine's shoulders, You have to pick a liege. Do you have one in mind?

Vaine shook her head. She didn't want to be celebrated for what she'd done. It hadn't been honorable or noble or brave or anything the Crown had described it as over the past two weeks.

She'd been a coward. She'd just wanted to get out.

Well, you better decide quickly, Iris said, putting a trident in Vaine's hand. "Who you pick as your liege will tell the Crown how you intend to serve them. You want to be proud of yourself, but not too proud."

Why can't they pick for me? Vaine asked softly. The trident didn't feel right. She tightened her grip on it, the webbing between her fingers concealed from sight. "I don't want to choose something like this. I don't want to choose anyone. I don't—"

Iris grabbed Vaine's shoulder in one hand and cupped her chin with the other, forcing her to look down into her older sister's eyes. Hey. Look at me. Do you know what this means? What you did?

That I'm a murderer, Vaine whispered.

"It means we never have to go hungry again, Iris said. We're going to live in a real house. We'll be able to send almost as much money as we want to our parents. You're getting a job in the royal palace. The royal palace, Vaine! It doesn't even matter that you're a Weeper! You still get to work in the palace!"

Vaine squeezed her eyes shut as her throat constricted. I don't want to work in the palace.

Then what do you want? Do you want to starve? Iris pulled away and examined herself in the mirror, straightening out her already pristine double-breasted uniform. "Do you want to be arrested by the Authority Against Treason? Do you want to keep getting bullied until someone makes you cry and you earn another Weeper's mark?"

No, Vaine said. She chewed on her lower lip and pulled her hair back. She was going to be sick. No, she was sick. I just want to be an engineer.

Well, too bad, you've been promoted. Iris put her hands on her hips. "Admiral Iris. Way better than Ensign Iris, don't you think?"

It does fit you, Vaine agreed. She wasn’t even upset that Iris had been granted the rank of Admiral while Vaine hadn’t. You're very authoritative. You make good decisions. Why don't you just tell me who I should pick as my liege, and we can pretend I was the one who chose it?

How old are you now? Seventeen? Eighteen? Iris didn't turn away from the mirror, and gathered her massive curls into a bun at the nape of her neck. The frilled tips of her blue ears poked through the navy-colored hair like spearheads. I should probably get my hair cut...

I don't remember, Vaine said, though that was a lie. She'd turned nineteen almost a year ago. In three months, she'd be twenty.

Well, you're old enough that I don't need to make every single choice for you, Iris said. So make your choice. This is a very rare opportunity. Usually knights don't get to pick their lieges.

Then I'll choose the Queen. The Sovereign Crown of Zivea probably had so many knights she wouldn't notice Vaine even existed.

You could, but that's the obvious choice, Iris said, pulling her hair through a tie. I'm picking the King. It still might be too bold. If they had any relatives left, I'd choose those.

What about Crown Zalyn? Vaine asked. The heir to the throne was still a child, probably no older than twelve. She likely wouldn't make any intense demands.

That sounds like a good plan, honestly. Iris split her ponytail into sections and began the process of braiding it. That would prove your dedication to the Crown without making you look full of yourself, since she’s a child and all.

I still don't understand why they're letting us choose, Vaine said. She ran her thumb along the trident's shaft, calming herself by reciting the components.

Cyradium capsule.

Regulator.

Backup regulator.

Tegnozz crystal.

All separated from her fingers by a thin layer of metal. Providing a practically infinite source of power. One, that when applied properly, had the capability to....

........to...........

That's what they promised to the commander who led us to a ground victory against Wokmaw, Iris said, snapping Vaine out of the static.

We weren't commanders, Vaine said. I'm a Private.

"You were a private. I'm sure Zavo would have loved to take credit for your work, but he's dead."

This time, it was Iris's turn to freeze and stare uncomfortably at the floor, hands still buried in her hair.

They're all dead. Vaine had already known that, but the realization hadn’t hit until then. She and Iris were the highest ranking surviving officers because they were the only survivors. We killed them.

"No, you killed them, Iris said. I didn't do much except get you into that tunnel."

Vaine wanted to vomit.

Lighten up, Iris said. "What happened to them was a lot more merciful than what the Sarr were going to do to them. To us."

Vaine held back a groan and tugged on her mantle, which was made of a net far more expensive than the simple tie she was accustomed to wearing around her neck.

But no longer. She was important. She was going to be a knight. Oh, tears, she was going to be a knight. Maybe we could run away.

"If you suggest one more cowardly thing, I will personally pick you up and throw you through a window."

Vaine’s gut response was a snarky one, and she bit it back as Iris finished tying up her hair.

I think we just need warpaint, and then we'll be good to leave, Iris said. Do you want me to do yours?

Vaine gave a brisk nod. I want my Weeper's mark to be purple. Since we can afford different colors now.

Oh, don't be ridiculous, Iris said, grabbing the new paint box provided by the palace. Apparently, there was one in every guest room. It's bad enough you have a mark at all. The purple doesn't even fit. Mom's still alive.

I wasn't just crying for her, Vaine said. I was crying for Sanvo, too. He's dead. I can use violet.

Absolutely not. Iris flipped open the box and sighed deeply, though whether it was with contentedness or exasperation was impossible to tell. Don’t say that idiot’s name. And using any color other than black for your Weeper's mark screams that you're still proud of your heritage.

But I am, Vaine thought. She'd probably wear it even if failure to apply it didn’t guarantee a one-way ticket to a prison moon. Still, she understood where Iris was coming from. The goal was to stay alive, after all.

Okay. But I want to apply the Weeper's mark myself. You can do the rest of it.

Iris narrowed her eyes.

You can trust me, Vaine promised. I won't do anything that will put a target on us.

Iris reluctantly handed Vaine the box. Vaine went to work mixing a new color from the violet and onyx paints until she had a purple so dark it was imperceptible from black unless one looked very, very closely.

Satisfied, Vaine dipped one of the silver-gilded brushes in the paint and drew a single dark line beneath her left eye; thicker at the top, thinning into almost a point at the bottom.

Her hands did not shake as she drew the single, perfect line. The instant she lifted her brush from her skin, however, the tremors began again.

She was satisfied.

Iris did the rest of Vaine's paint: Three lines from lid to brow; dark blue in symbolism of service to the Crown. One straight line from ear to ear, crossing over the bridge of the nose. White in symbolism of loyalty. Three white diamonds on the forehead between the eyes and directly above the nose.

Iris’s paint was identical, Weeper’s mark excluded. Ready to go?

No, Vaine admitted. But I will anyway. She pat the pockets of her dark, blast-resistant jacket to confirm her tools were still inside, and took a deep breath to ready herself.

Good girl, Iris said, clapping her sister on the back. She handed Vaine a blast dagger, which she shakily slipped into the sheath at her belt.

"Is that necessary? I already have this." Vaine hefted her trident, which felt wrong in her hand.

Iris nodded. Absolutely. You actually know how to use a dagger.

You don't think anyone will try to attack us, will they? Vaine asked. Because—

It doesn't hurt to be prepared. Iris grabbed a blast spear off the wall and pushed open the doors of the palace suite, revealing the most incredible hallway Vaine had ever seen. Veins of platinum wove their way through walls made of marbled resin and coral wood, twisting around massive floating spheres of water filled with plant and animal life. An aqueous carpet, four inches deep, coated the floor and swirled with luminescent algae.

Two members of the Crown's own guard stood outside the door, offering her a salute as she and Iris passed through.

At ease, Iris said, clasping her hands behind her back.

Tears. Iris was a natural at this. She hadn't even seen more than fifteen battles, but she still sounded like a seasoned admiral. Vaine did her best to imitate her sister: Keeping her posture stiff and erect, holding her weapon in a deliberate manner, maintaining the cool expression of a killer.

Of course, Ensign Iris, the guard at the left said, straightening up. We are to escort you and Private Vaine to the ceremonial chambers.

Iris waved her hand in a strong, firm movement. Proceed. As Vaine fell in line beside her sister, she did her best not to gawk at her surroundings. They'd taken a different entrance to the guest quarters, so all of this was new.

New, and the stuff of bedtime tales. It had to be mostly tricks and holograms. There was no way anyone actually lived like this; using gravity control for decor. Right?

Right?

If her father were here, he would sneer and say how happy he was the Crown took half his money to show off. Vaine would have to tell him that in her next letter.

Good news, papa. All your taxpayer pearls are going to excellent use. I feel more like a peasant than ever before. She found her mouth twitching into a little smile, and quickly rectified once one of the guards saw her and scowled.

A high-pitched shriek echoed down the hallway, and something zipped inside the carpet at Vaine's feet. Years of instinct built catching fish made her momentarily forget where she was. She dropped her trident and snatched up the creature in the water, only to find herself holding a toddler by the foot.

Vaine almost dropped the kid out of shock, but managed to hold onto him as he thrashed and screeched in her arms.

You! The cry came from a woman who stood at the end of the hallway, wheezing as she bent over with her hands clutching her knees. You...get... The woman swayed a little and angrily approached, words lost in her heavy breath.

By the time she reached Vaine, the toddler had decided the best course of action was to go completely limp. He nearly slipped out of her arms, but she managed to maintain her grip. The kid's tiny feet wriggled as if he were still swimming, and sported boots that perfectly molded around his feet and ankles.

I like your boots, Vaine said. The kid's eyes lit up, and he put his hands on his hips, completely unbothered by being upside-down.

Thanks! They're new. My favorite boots. I love them. Do you love them?

I do, Vaine said, though she'd started the conversation by stating she did.

It was only then she noticed the copper threads woven into his mantle.

Oh, tears. This was Prince Rakva.

Thank you for apprehending the prince, said the out-of-breath woman, slowly approaching. She walked with a limp; one dramatic enough that she likely needed a cane. I'm his caretaker, Salakin. Rakva has been...especially difficult this morning.

I don't wanna go to the seriminny, the young prince said, swaying back and forth, arms dangling. You wanna know more about my shoes? They're ant-tikis.

Antiques, the exhausted caretaker said. The word you're looking for is 'antiques', and I promise you, they are not, indeed, antiques."

Rakva blew out his cheeks and slapped his hands against them, producing a fart noise. Vaine flipped him right-side up and gently lowered him to the ground, trying to hold back panic.

She'd touched a prince. A deity. She'd scooped him up like a minnow in a stream. While she wasn't well-versed in palace procedure, she was pretty sure don't touch the royalty without permission sat high on the list of rules to be obeyed at all costs. There was no way this would end well for her.

"Did you know my shoes—these shoes—Did you know they make me swim faster?" Rakva asked, lifting one foot to point at it. This was no easy feat; the water was above his waist.

I can see that indeed, Prince Rakva, Vaine said. Where did you get them?

He stared up at her, eyes wide, like she'd given him the keys to the universe. "You actually want to know?"

Of course I do, Vaine said. It didn't even matter that he was a prince. He was a kid. And when a kid got excited about something, you asked more questions. The same rule applied even more for royalty.

Didn't it?

The caretaker, Salakin, scooped up the prince in one arm and offered a salute with the other, finger pressed horizontally between the top of her nose and the end of her forehead. I apologize for the interruption, officers. If you'll excuse us. She briskly walked away as fast as her limp could take her.

I don't know where I got them! the kid shouted, squirming in Salakin's arms until his arms draped across her shoulder blades, facing Vaine. They just showeded up in my closet with magic!

I put them there, your highness, Salakin said, words barely audible. Now shh.

Salakin put them there with magic! Rakva said, scrambling to crawl out of Salakin's arms. I found out they fit in the—

Salakin slapped a hand over his mouth and increased her pace until they both disappeared from view.

Apologies, the guard on her left said with a snort, resuming his stoic walk. There are rumors Her Majesty is contemplating moving him to another palace until he learns to stop being so disruptive. His elder sister never exhibited this kind of behavior.

What behavior? Vaine thought. Has anyone in this palace ever met a kid before?

She kept thinking about it even as they entered the throne room.

A dome hundreds of feet high stretched upward, covered in massive murals that were only slightly distorted by the crystalline water clinging to the ceiling and every wall, held back with artificial gravity. Enormous squid and frill-tailed eels danced within, winding around pillars made of marbled coral that flowered where it entered the water above.

And yet it was nothing in comparison to the Throne, which stood like a citadel made of enormous waves carved of platinum and flying out from the seat built for one.

For now, it remained empty, but a man in a cobalt uniform bearing the Crown Emissary insignia stood at attention in the center of the room. Vaine hastily bowed to him, finger pressed up against the center of her forehead, even before she registered that he was the most important person in the galaxy besides the Crown family themselves.

Ensign Iris, the Emissary said. Private...Vaine.

He sounded so disappointed. Vaine wasn't sure what he’d expected.

Emissary Kadat, Iris said. She bowed herself even lower than Vaine. Are there any elements of this ceremony we should be aware of that we don't already know?

At ease, Kadat said, waving his hand. He turned his attention to the liquid bioband wrapped around his wrist, which displayed the time in glowing green numerals. "Nothing has changed since the last rehearsal, but I’ll repeat your instructions to ensure you don’t forget. The Sovereign Crown will enter. You will bow, but you will not kneel. Her Majesty will call you to the foot of the throne. Then you will kneel. When Her Majesty asks you who you have chosen as your liege, you will respond. She will draw your blood. You will then be knights of the Crown and will proceed to swear your oaths to your lieges while the Sovereign Crown bears witness."

Understood, Iris said.

Vaine said nothing, afraid the wrong words would escape her mouth. Kadat looked up from his bioband, face ever so slightly tugged into a disapproving scowl. Private Vaine? he said. Do you understand?

I...Yes, sir, Vaine said. I do. Sir.

Kadat slowly blinked. The Queen should arrive shortly. In the meantime, greet the many guests who have been invited to watch the ceremony.

They waited an hour. Vaine's legs cramped up, but it was nothing in comparison to the anxiety that wracked her soul with every official that entered the throne room, ready to evaluate both the butchers of their meat. She did her best to keep her expression still, like Iris did, and to bow deeply, like Iris did.

Any hope that she would be able to gauge the emotions of others quickly faded. These were nobles who had never wept before in their lives, and neither had their parents or grandparents.

They probably had no emotions to hide. No nakedness to conceal. And here she was, feeling like the only thing she wore was a bag with a hole cut in the top.

At this point, she didn't know what was worse: If the truth about what she did was revealed, or if it wasn't. Either way, she wouldn't have to think about it if she somehow passed out in the next two minutes.

Her thoughts clawed at her brain, her heart, her soul, threatening to pull her under and drown her, but the yell of a toddler interrupted her demise.

Why are we in the Boring Room, Salakin?

Vaine's attention had been so devoted to appearing halfway presentable that she hadn't noticed the prince or his caretaker enter. They were accompanied by a young girl in a netted mantle interwoven with gold and silver threads. She held her head high, and each step she took barely caused ripples in the carpet. Definitely the most stoic child Vaine had ever seen.

That had to be Crown Zalyn. Vaine's new liege. The Crown Heir remained silent and still while her brother attempted to cause all kinds of havoc and mischief. Salakin did her best to keep him under control, but he seemed determined to remain an agent of enthusiastic chaos. After a few moments of failing to stand still, the prince looked up and saw Vaine. His eyes lit up, and he bolted to her, slipping through his caretaker's grasp once more.

Vaine backed away, but it wasn't any use. The kid barreled into her and squeezed her legs. You're the one who listened to me! he said, voice muffled.

Do people not listen to you, your Highness? Vaine asked, unsure if bowing in this situation would be respectful or insulting.

Rakva responded by biting her kneecap. Salakin gasped and pried him away, glowering at the kid with murder in her eyes.

Oh, we listen, the caretaker said through grit teeth. "We don't have much of a choice. I will tell your mother about this."

Every ounce of mischievousness in the kid's face evaporated, and he shrank back.

Vaine did not like that.

There's no need, she said quietly. It didn't hurt.

"We can't have him biting future knights of the court," Salakin said.

He is the spawn of gods, Vaine said. He can bite people if he wants.

She did not actually believe that. But something about the kid's situation felt off.

Salakin scoffed. "When the end of the day comes, Private, you will outrank me. But for now, you have no right to tell me how to do my job."

Vaine nodded in submission. Iris watched on in disapproval, and the look in her eyes told of a lecture that was sure to come once they were alone.

When the throne room was so full that the servants were forced to step inside the walls of water lining the halls and open up their gills, a hush rippled through the deafening chatter until all was quiet. Every head lowered in a bow and every finger pressed to the forehead in a salute. Vaine followed suit, though she didn't see which member of the Crown had entered nor where they stood.

Whoever it was, they needed no introduction. No announcement. No fanfare. Just their presence was enough.

If Vaine were to take a wild guess, it would be that the Queen had entered the throne room. The same Queen who became the Sovereign Crown at twenty years of age after being born the twelfth of fourteen children.

Though the throne hall was filled with hundreds, if not thousands, it remained silent enough that a single spoken word filled the entire space.

Arise.

Vaine waited for Iris to do so, and then obeyed the command, risking a glance toward the place where everyone's gaze was now fixed.

There stood the Queen, in robes that gathered at her elbows and caressed the ground, floating lightly on the carpet of water. Her platinum mantle wound around her shoulders, and then her waist, draping behind her like a net made of stars. A simple crown rested atop her head, and she exuded a cold, perfect confidence.

She was...magnificent. Vaine's heart pounded even faster than it had before, and she swallowed, an odd warmth spreading across her face. She barely even noticed the man standing behind the Queen in robes ostentatious enough to be part of one of the Forbidden Plays.

Three months ago, the Queen said to the silent crowd, the Crown promised Knighthood and a place in the palace to anyone who earned a ground victory at Wokmaw. Today, we fulfill that promise. She extended a hand, gesturing to Iris and Vaine.

Anyone who hadn't been looking at them before certainly was now. Thousands and billions of eyes taking in every movement she made; every blemish on her skin, every evidence she was a coward.

If they knew how much of a coward she was, they'd turn on her. They'd turn on Iris.

So instead of shrinking away, Vaine lifted her chin and stared back. She might have been little more than a terrified child, but they didn't need to know that.

Bear witness to this. The Crown keeps all our promises. Even if.

The queen said those last two words definitively.

Wait. This entire endeavor was not an honor for her and Iris.

It was a show of humiliation. Humiliation for them. Humiliation for the officers who had failed and failed and failed to take any ground at Wokmaw. The Queen didn't care about honoring those who had done her a favor; she cared about crushing the dignity of anyone who didn't fulfill expectations.

Vaine almost felt angry.

More than anything, though, she was annoyed. She wished that the officers here had just done their job and found a way to win so Vaine had never needed to go in the first place. It hadn’t even been difficult. Surely one of them could have figured it out if they spent more than two minutes researching the natural resources of Wokmaw. It would have taken so little time. So little effort.

And yet they couldn't have been bothered. So now, they all had to live with the fact Vaine was a butcher. Vaine had blood on her hands when it should have been on anyone else's. Vaine had nightmares about what she'd done, but none of the people in this room would have thought twice about the death or the suffering they caused.

How dare they. How dare they leave it up to her, a cowardly Weeper, to do what needed to be done and force her to live with the guilt.

Ensign Iris, the Queen said. Step forward.

Iris went up obediently, kneeling at the foot of the throne. If she had made the same realization as Vaine, she didn’t show it.

The Queen held out her hand, and Kadat reverently pressed a decorative spear into it. Ensign Iris, you have been given the opportunity to choose your liege. Have you decided who you will serve?

Yes, your Majesty, Iris said.

Though the Queen's movements were slow and deliberate, Vaine still flinched when the Queen put the spear on Iris's shoulder and let the tip's edge graze the side of her neck.

Speak the name of the one you have chosen to follow.

Crown Kheda, Iris said. King of Zivea.

The Queen lifted her spear and gently nicked the side of Iris's cheek, drawing a single thin line of violet blood. Vaine tensed up, but Iris pressed her forehead against the dry stone dais.

I anoint you a knight in service to the Crown. Rise, Sir Iris, and stand with your new liege, the Queen said. Prepare yourself to take the oaths. If you do not wish to swear them, you may leave.

Another twinge of annoyance. The exact oaths themselves had never been rehearsed; neither she nor Iris knew exactly what they’d be swearing to do. Not like it mattered.

If Iris worried the same way Vaine did, she didn't show it. She stood up with the stiff elegance of a soldier, and took her place next to the King, who appeared almost bored.

Private Vaine, the Queen said. Step forward.

Vaine obeyed. She had to.

She knelt against the unnaturally dry ground, and the annoyance melted away in the face of fear as she stared at the spear still tipped violet with her sister's blood.

Private Vaine, you have been granted the opportunity to...

The Queen hesitated. Just for a moment.

Against her better instinct, Vaine looked up into her eyes.

The tiniest of creases infiltrated the space between the Queen's brow ridges, and her eyes squinted as they stared at Vaine's