Aster’s late.

Scratch that, she is very late.

The usual glances she receives from the palace staff have turned into all-out staring as Aster rushes past, too harried to worry about their gazes as she books it to the queen’s quarters. She’ll worry about what they have to say about her hiked skirts or the scandalous flash of her bare ankles afterwards. After she’s made it to the queen’s sitting room in time. After she’s explained her reason for being abhorrently late to her promised session of tea with Her Majesty.

Aster could kick herself. She ought to kick herself. She’s always had a tendency to lose track of time whenever preoccupied, but she really should’ve known better.

She’d been whiling away time at the magic tower again, something that’s become almost routine of her ever since her first visit to the tower with Damien. It’s the most fun she’s had in the palace since she first arrived, sitting in on Han as he works on his projects and launches into tangent after tangent, Aster more than happy to listen to him go on and on. Damien isn’t around the tower as much as Aster thought he would be, but he always manages to pop in at least once before Aster leaves for the day.

The only qualm that Aster actually has against the magic tower is how time always manages to run away from her if she isn’t paying attention.

Now, she flies past a corner, paying for the price of her carelessness as she just barely avoids colliding with a pair of broom wielding maids. They watch her flee with wide eyes, certain to spread word of the spectacle Aster must be making of herself.

If only the queen’s quarters weren’t so far away from the magic tower, she fumes inwardly as she hurries along. If only there was some kind of shortcut!

A flash of green has Aster faltering in her mad dash.

She skids to a stop. Shuffles back a few paces.

Several paces away from the corridor she’s standing in, is a tall row of hedges.

“There’s a rumor passed around the servants,” Seraphina’s voice echoes in her mind. About how the maze helps out those who are in a hurry and have places to be.”

She doesn’t spare herself a second to think. Aster hurries off the path to stand before the maze, anxiety rolling off her in waves. She clasps her hands together desperately.

Oh Hale, this better work.

“Uh, Mr Maze?” She begins. “Unless… you’re a Mrs Maze?”

Silence.

“Right, not so important at the moment,” she mutters to herself. “Oh Honourable Maze,” she tries again. “Would you please do me the utmost favour of cutting me a shortcut to the queen’s quarters? Pretty, pretty, please? You see, I’m really, terribly late and I-“

To Aster’s amazement, the hedge before her begins to open up. She watches in awe as the shrubbery retreats, branches curling away to form a small hole just big enough for her to squeeze through.

I can’t believe that actually worked.

“Thank you!” She manages to squeak out.

She plunges into the maze, shrubbery tickling her face as she squeezes through the hole. Once inside, she swipes at her hair absently, brushing any stray leaves from her hair as she swivels around to survey her surroundings. The path to her right is obscured by a wall of green, leaving her with only one road to take.

Aster heads left, sparing a glance behind her as she leaves. The hole in the maze is no longer there, not a trace of it left in what is now a perfectly intact hedge.

Good, no one can see her now. Aster turns forwards with a grin, clutching her skirts as she hikes them all the way up to her calves. She takes off down the path gleefully, sprinting at full speed.

The path continues straight for a good while, sloping at times and even veering off in different directions at others. But not once does it lead to a split in the path or even a crossroads.

Aster takes it as a good sign; an indication that the maze truly is cutting the shortest path for her to take. At this rate, she’ll reach the queen’s quarters in no time!

“Your Highness.”

She startles, pausing in her stride to whirl around. But a quick survey of her surroundings shows there’s no one else but her in the maze.

“I thought I told you not to call me that.”

Or so she’d thought.

Aster shakes her head, turning forwards once more. She didn’t have time to eavesdrop on people’s secret conversations- not when she had places to be.

“It’s just Flynn when you’re with me.”

She freezes.

“I’ve missed you,” the voice continues, and it takes Aster a moment to ascertain that she hadn’t heard wrong. That the speaker really is Florian, even if the cadence in his tone feels entirely out of place. Sugary sweet, with none of the frost or flint that Aster’s grown accustomed to receiving from him.

Carefully, she presses herself against the wall to her left, where the conversation seemed to be coming from.

“I’ve missed you too,” she hears another voice say. Shy and sweet, and just the tiniest bit hesitant. And…

Female.

Aster’s head goes blank.

Her thoughts come seconds later, catching up to her shock.

Florian’s been meeting a girl in the maze.

Someone he cares about enough to miss.

Someone he cares about enough to sneak around just to see.

Blearily, she notices a small hole in the wall, just big enough for her to peek out of.

Every self-preserving bone in her body is screaming; that there will be no coming back from what she will see, whatever is on the other side only serving to hammer in the final nail in her proverbial coffin.

Aster leans down, and peeks through the hole.