Beneath an Ocean of Sky

As they ate breakfast together before Luxa’s busy schedule began, Gregor said, “I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been here in the Underland. I don’t even know how many times I’ve gone home. But I do know you haven’t left this palace since the public trial. So I’ve planned an Overland adventure for you tomorrow, and Vikus has agreed to be on duty while we’re away. We’ll come and go my usual way, and you’ll have nothing to fear.”

For once, it was Luxa’s turn to be out of her element. She hesitated, then at last agreed. “One day, tomorrow,” she said. “No crown, no council. Only the Overland? I have never seen the Overland! What shall I wear? Surely not what I wear here?”

Gregor smiled. “You can wear these clothes that my mother, Lizzie, and Boots picked out for you from the thrift store near our home. We’ve always done our shopping there.”

They rose before dawn, slipping through the tunnels in silence. When the trapdoor opened and the cool morning air rushed in with the smell of clean laundry, Luxa drew a sharp breath. His mom and dad were on their way to work and Lizzie and Boots were still sleeping.

After walking several blocks, with Luxa wanting to stop and look into every shop window, they arrived at Gregor's destination. The wide expanse of Central Park stretched before her, dotted with green grass, trees, and people bustling along the paths. Above it all loomed the sky—an endless, dizzying expanse of blue. Luxa tilted her head back, her violet eyes squinting at the bright sunlight.

“It is… so open,” she murmured, almost to herself.

Gregor grinned, trying not to laugh at her awe. “That’s the sky. Welcome to New York.”

“I know what the sky is, but I have never seen the sky,” Luxa said quickly, though her hand brushed against his arm as if to steady herself. “But to stand beneath it—it is like being beneath an ocean turned upside down.”

“Yeah,” Gregor admitted, following her gaze. “Sometimes it feels like that.”

He had convinced her, with some difficulty, to leave her queenly troubles behind and go above ground for a day through the tunnel, traveling with him on her bat to the laundry room. Now, with a picnic blanket spread under a tree, a paper bag of sandwiches his mom had made, and cold soda cans beside them, he watched her take it all in.

Luxa sat gingerly on the blanket, her posture regal even here. She eyed the sandwich he handed her with suspicion. “What manner of food is this? And that white substance?”

“Turkey and cheese,” Gregor explained. “Bread, meat, cheese—normal stuff. And that white stuff is mayonnaise.”

Luxa poked the bread, sniffed it, then finally took a cautious bite. Her eyes widened. “It is… good.” She quickly took another bite, chewing more eagerly.

Gregor laughed. “See? Not all Overland food is strange.”

Luxa gave him a look. “You say this as if I am not accustomed to strangeness. Remember who first introduced you to squid ink stew.”

“Fair point,” Gregor said, suppressing a shiver. “I still haven’t forgiven you for that.”

They ate in comfortable silence for a while, Luxa sampling potato chips and cookies with the same curiosity she had shown the sandwich. When Gregor popped open a can of soda, offering it to her, she tilted her head.

“What is this strange potion?”

“It’s soda. Just try it.”

Luxa lifted the can, sniffed, then took a sip. Immediately she coughed, nearly spraying the blanket. “By the cutters!” she exclaimed, eyes watering. “It burns!”

Gregor doubled over laughing. “It’s the bubbles! It’s supposed to fizz.”

Luxa glared, then tried another sip, slower this time. She frowned, then nodded. “It is… not unpleasant. Once you know to expect the attack.”

They spent the afternoon wandering through the park. Gregor pointed out hot dog carts, playgrounds, and people walking dogs—Luxa stared at a dachshund for several minutes, marveling at its tiny legs. At one point, a group of children ran past them flying a kite, and Luxa stopped in her tracks, staring at the bright fabric tail soaring into the sky.

“They are tethering the wind,” she whispered.

Gregor smiled at her wonder. “Yeah. Want to try?”

And so, a little later, Luxa found herself gripping the spool of string as the kite bobbed and danced high above. Her hair whipped around her face, her laughter carried on the breeze. Gregor stood close, steadying her hands when the wind tugged too sharply.

“You see?” Luxa said breathlessly, her cheeks flushed. “Even here, there is flying.”

“Not quite Aurora,” Gregor teased, “but close.”

“Different. But no less joyful.”

As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, they returned to their picnic spot. Luxa leaned back on the blanket, gazing upward. “I could become lost in this sky,” she said softly. “It is without end.”

Gregor stretched out beside her, his shoulder brushing hers. “That’s kind of the point. Up here… it feels like anything’s possible.”

They lay in silence for a while, listening to the city sounds—distant honking, laughter, the rustle of leaves. Finally, Luxa turned her head toward him. “Thank you, Gregor,” she said simply. “For showing me your world. I would love to come here again.”

He swallowed, feeling his chest tighten in a good way. “Anytime. You’ve shown me plenty of yours.”

Her hand found his on the blanket, fingers slipping between his with quiet certainty. Above them, the sky deepened into twilight, stars beginning to pierce the fading light. For Luxa, it was new. For Gregor, it was familiar. For both, it was theirs.

Late that evening, after Gregor had explained the moon and the stars and why they moved, he guided Luxa back to his apartment. His family had already gone to sleep. He found his favorite homemade cookies in a bag waiting for them in the laundry. The city lights were replaced by the torchlit corridors of Regalia. Guards bowed as the queen returned, but their puzzled glances still lingered on the Overlander at her side.

As they paused at the cross-tunnels leading to their separate quarters in the palace, Luxa touched his arm. “Thank you, Gregor. This has been the most peaceful day of my life. I will see you for breakfast again tomorrow?” she asked with cautious expectation, already knowing his answer.

Gregor smiled. The weight of his world and hers felt lighter than it had in years for either of them. “I think this has been my happiest.”

They lingered a moment longer, then parted—each carrying the light of their first Overland adventure.