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“MILCHSTRASSE Festival is tonight,” Stern announced.
“Milchstrasse? Like the royal family?”
“Yup. Legend has it that Milchstrasse was where my star-riding ancestors first landed,” he said, laughing.
I’d heard that legend too, once. Something about how the Milchstrasses had been sent from the Milky Way. How they’d landed on Earth astride a giant star and the resultant crater created the villa lake. The name Sternchen also apparently meant “little star”.
“It’s a celebration of that arrival. People head to the lake to take some of its water back home. There’re stalls, performances.”
“Does the royal family do anything?”
Stern shook his head. “No. Or rather, it’s tradition for us to do nothing, as in, leave the villa unattended. So yeah, let’s go check out the festival.”
“Then let’s see what this year’s festival is like,” Felzen said.
“Agreed!” I said. After all, who could resist a festival?
The plan was to dally in the city until night rolled around. We rowed to shore disguised as servants, as per tradition. The boat was tiny and rather unstable, and trying to maneuver it was kind of fun in its own right.
We toured around a bunch of stalls. We bought ourselves skewers and ate them as we strolled. Some sort of skit was being performed in the plaza, a hallmark of the festival supposedly. Stern didn’t seem too interested, but Felzen and I enjoyed the production as it was our first time seeing it.
My legs froze when I saw a stand packed with pretty accessories.
“Go ahead,” urged Felzen.
But I’m in my boy clothes.
“They’ve got barrettes,” he added.
Of course, like I can use that as an excuse.
“I guess I may as well get myself something. You know, to celebrate the occasion,” I conceded. I peeked inside and saw a variety of astral items: a lacy ribbon with tiny little stars woven into the fabric; a silver, star-shaped hair ornament; a filigreed hand mirror. There were even beads embroidered in the pattern of the Milky Way. So sparkly and pretty. “I’ve never seen so many star-themed things in one place!”
The stall keeper smiled at the excitement in my voice.
“I remember Marlena shopping here once.” Stern narrowed his eyes in nostalgia.
While Felzen nosed around, presumably searching for a gift for one of his lady friends, I purchased a souvenir for Lilia and picked something out for myself as well. I also bought a small jar to fill with lake water. According to custom, after collecting the water, I was to store it at home for a year.
There were all sorts of containers available—big jugs, elaborate decanters, transparent or colored flasks—and all of them had miniscule, golden, star-shaped particles sifting inside. I selected a transparent jar engraved with a star. It came with a white paper bag and candle. I found that odd but didn’t think much of it. My jar in hand, we walked to the lake, cutting our way through a sea of giddy people.
There were no stalls there, no lights, only a thick, black veil of darkness. The transition from rowdy loudness to dead silence gave me whiplash. We approached the water’s edge, and reflected in the mirrorlike surface of the lake was the pitch-black night sky threaded with stars. It was as if land and space had merged into one.
“It’s beautiful,” I mumbled.
Stern nodded gravely. “Take some. Tonight, it’s not water but a drop of the Milky Way.”
I scooped up a jarful of liquid stars then stoppered the lid, trapping a drop of galaxy within. The grains inside danced.
We shuffled back, letting the people behind us have their turn. Everyone stood reverently near the water, except for Stern, who was moving further away.
“Where are you going?”
“It’s a secret,” he replied, smiling.
Felzen and I exchanged glances. We knew there was no point in arguing with Stern, so we quietly followed. We climbed a gentle hill, the sultry summer wind clinging to our skin. A strong smell of grass hung in the air, and a chorus of owls sang to us as we drew closer and closer to the sky.
Stern pointed into the distance as we sat down on a tepid patch of grass. I looked and saw a black lake, a white castle, a swarm of people. “My ancestors’ spirits are supposedly inside the villa at the moment, which is why no one can enter until the festival concludes.”
All at once, spots of soft, faint light began popping up across the shore before floating into the air. Lanterns. I gazed upward, marveling. Lanterns filled the night sky, painting it orange.
“It’s beautiful.” Felzen took the words right out of my mouth. The sight was utterly breathtaking.
“That’s how we send my ancestors back to where they came from,” Stern said, opening the paper bag from earlier. It was a lantern all along. He placed the candle inside, then had Felzen ignite it. As the air within warmed, the lantern took flight. It ascended high into the sky before burning out and disappearing into the night.
Once every lantern had met a similar fate, the crowd of people began to disperse. We waited for them all to leave before returning to the villa. We paddled across the pitch-black lake, the sound of the oars our only company.
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THE servants wouldn’t be back until the next morning, so we made our way to our rooms upon landfall. I was about to head to bed when I heard a knock on the door. I opened it to find Stern.
“Bad time?” he asked.
“You could say.”
“I won’t keep you long. Come,” he said, dragging me toward the roof.
There the sky was close, so close that I felt like I could reach out and touch the very Milky Way.
Stern handed me a small mirror he’d bought at the night market.
“What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Aim it at the Milky Way. It’s a superstition.” I did as told, and then he instructed, “Now stay as you are.”
“Okay…” I ventured. Stern’s silence unnerved me.
He still often declared his love for me in public but not in private, not anymore. I had nothing to worry about, especially since he’d also stopped with the weird touching. And yet all I could do was awkwardly stare up at the sky, my chest tightening.
“You can stop now.”
“What’s the superstition?” I asked.
Stern’s naughty grin, its wicked beauty, sent a shiver down my spine. He stepped behind me. He grabbed my hand, bending the mirror toward us. His eyes sparkled like tiny stars in the night. “It’s believed that by pointing a mirror at the Milky Way, the next person reflected alongside you is your soulmate,” he whispered in my ear.
Good thing it was dark, or else he would’ve seen me pink to said ears. “That’s cheating…”
“I make my own fate.”
I gasped at the conviction in his voice. Our eyes met in the mirror, and I quickly dropped my gaze.
Stern released my hand. “Keep it or break it. Do as you like.”
My heart ached witnessing his gloomy smile. I didn’t want to see him so disappointed. I realized I loved him just as he loved me. But I couldn’t lay my feelings bare—if I did, I’d never get to be by his side again.