Two days of Vance's mother and I was ready to commit murder. Her comments to and about me made the gossip on Linas-Drias innocuous by comparison. She made it very clear that she disliked me intensely.
It was impossible to avoid her. My presence was demanded at all meals and in between, though I couldn't figure out why. If she disliked me so much, why did she insist on me being in the same room with her? Was she afraid of me? Did she think I had some kind of hold over Vance that forced him into marrying me? I was tempted to point out to her that Vance had forced the issue, not me, but I knew she wouldn't listen.
I was relieved when the ship finally shifted back into normal space. Vance's mother, Lady Candyce, retreated to her cabin. She left the dining area, taking her malice with her as an almost palpable cloud.
"She isn't that bad, really," Vance said after a long moment.
"Was I that obvious? She hates me."
"No, she doesn't," Vance said quickly, almost too quickly. "She's been under a lot of pressure lately. And I should have let her know before this. She's upset that she had to hear about us from her friends."
"And that's supposed to make me feel better about the way she treats me?"
"Give her time, Dace. She just needs to adjust. Sometimes that's hard for her." He smiled down at me, distant and unreadable. "Trust me on this. Just give her time."
I saw a hint of something, warning or fear or sadness I couldn't tell which, in his eyes. It was gone before I was even certain I saw it.
"I should pack. We'll be landing soon." He turned away from me.
What was he trying to tell me? Was I imagining things? Was I just paranoid?
Someone close to him was involved in the conspiracy. I hoped fervently it was his mother. It would serve her right.
I went to my cabin. I shouldn't have bothered. Lady Candyce's silent servants had already packed my belongings. The luggage was lined up neatly near the door.
I lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. I could just barely hear when we entered atmosphere. I didn't want to be here. I wanted the Phoenix under my hands. I wanted to feel her engines responding to my touch. I wanted to sit in my old battered seat. I wanted the comfort of familiar people and places. I was sick of pretending.
I wasn't even sure I was pretending anymore. My ship felt more and more like a distant dream. Vance was real. My new life was real. I was losing touch with my past. Something had changed in my head. I wasn't the same person. Maybe I wouldn't belong on the Phoenix. Maybe I didn't belong anywhere.
I lay on the bunk and felt sorry for myself until the ship landed. I waited for a knock on the door. It came, along with the silent steward. He collected my luggage.
"The flitter is waiting," he informed me solemnly.
"Thank you," I said, though I didn't mean it. I didn't want to go in a flitter with Vance and his mother. I got up and went anyway.
Vance's mother was enthroned in a very luxurious flitter. Vance sat next to her on the wide, velvet seat. I got to sit on a tiny seat behind the cockpit. I faced Vance's mother and felt like a criminal on trial. She talked with Vance during the flight. I sat on my little seat and tried to ignore her. I wasn't very successful.
The flight was long. We left the space port and its sprawl of modern buildings quickly behind us. We crossed over a landscape of tortured rock and mountain. The vegetation was sparse. I saw no sign of any habitation below. I had no idea what planet we were on.
The flitter circled and dropped. We came into a narrow valley more lush than any we'd passed so far. The flitter followed the valley around several bends. It opened into a wide canyon. A river meandered along the bottom, lined with bushy trees and open stretches of grass. The sides of the canyon were steep cliffs. The top of the cliff wasn't much better, a scrubby plain with low shrubs scattered sparsely across it. The flitter rose above the cliff tops and turned to one side.
There was a mansion sprawled across the top of one spire of rock. Artificially green gardens surrounded it in narrow strips. I saw a scatter of trails dropping down the cliff face to the valley floor. There were other buildings at the base of the cliff. It was an oasis of green civilization set oddly in the middle of a desert. The flitter circled and landed in front of the mansion.
Servants appeared and opened the door. One of them offered me a hand out of the flitter.
Lady Candyce disembarked like a queen deigning to visit her subjects. She posed in front of the wide front doors of the mansion while servants silently opened the doors.
"Put our visitor in the front suite," she ordered as she walked inside. The rest of her orders faded out behind her.
Vance trailed her, leaving me standing awkwardly next to the flitter. I was very tempted to get inside and fly it back to the space port. I still had a job to do, no matter how much I may not have wanted to do it. I still had a traitor to find.
"This way, miss," one of the servants spoke to me. I followed him while others collected the luggage and hauled it away.
It was quiet and dim inside, a sharp contrast to the bright sunlight. The servant led me up a spiraling staircase. The building exuded wealth. All the floors were real stone and wood. The walls were covered with expensive murals. All the furnishings I saw were real wood, delicately carved.
The servant opened a door and ushered me inside. "Dinner will be served in two hours," he informed me as he shut the door. I half expected to hear it lock.
I wandered through the suite. There was a small sitting room that opened onto the hall. The light was muted, filtering down from fixtures overhead. A door at the back of the room opened into a bedroom. Huge windows let in sunlight. I lifted sheer curtains to look outside. I had a view of the front landing pad and miles of untamed desert. I let the curtain drop.
The bedroom wasn't huge, but it was still big compared to a ship's cabin. The bed was comfortable enough. The whole room was covered with various sizes of pink roses. The walls had tiny clusters of them on a diagonal pattern. The coverlet on the bed had ones the size of my fist. The carpet was woven with cabbage sized pink roses. All the chairs had upholstery featuring pink roses. The sheer curtains were pink with shadows of roses dotted along them.
The bathroom attached to the bedroom was adequate, though not as huge or luxurious as most of the ones I'd been given recently. Everything in it was pink.
I went back to the sitting room where the roses were more muted and the pink was a bit more peach. I had literally nothing to do but stare at things for the two hours until dinner. There were no books, no signs of a reader or a vidscreen anywhere.
The door opened. A slender woman entered. She had blond hair, pulled back into a knot at the back of her head. She wore a plain black dress. She went into the bedroom as if she owned it. I followed her.
She was in my closet, unpacking my luggage. I watched her for a while. She was efficient. She had obviously done this many times before. She hung up my dresses and arranged my shoes.
"Will there be anything else, miss?" she asked as she pulled the closet door shut on my wardrobe. "Will you require assistance dressing for dinner?" Her face was bland, giving no clue whether she wanted to help me or would be offended if I asked.
"No, thank you," I said. I could still dress myself and comb my own hair. It was a pitiful excuse for defiance but it was all that was safe.
She left, closing the door behind her. I debated about sneaking out and exploring the mansion before deciding against it. I would have plenty of time for that later.
I dragged a chair over by the window and figured out how to pull the curtain open. I sat in the chair and stared out at the desert. It was very isolated, but that could be deceptive. The flitter was gone, which meant there must be some kind of garage somewhere on the grounds. I had to have more information.
I rifled through the tables and drawers and desk and found nothing useful. I needed to know where I was. I needed to know how to contact help, if there was any. The full realization of how isolated I really was hit me hard. I had no backup, no one I could turn to, not here. I'd left them all behind on Linas-Drias, even Scholar. I was on my own, completely and totally. Unless Vance was really on my side, I had no one at all I could ask for help. I had my doubts about Vance. Was he involved in the conspiracy? It didn't fit what I knew about him, but I might be wrong.
I gave up. I was only depressing myself. I muttered a few choice swear words. I should dress for dinner. The days of spending less than two minutes getting ready were far behind me. I spent over an hour picking the right dress and getting my hair and makeup perfect. I looked almost as perfect as I had when Yosefie did my face and hair.
I posed in front of the mirror. A sudden fit of nerves tied my stomach in knots. Was the dress appropriate or was it too fancy? Was it not fancy enough? I wore a long gown in shades of cream and peach. It was fairly simple, like most of my new clothes, but it draped elegantly to the floor around me. I'd put my hair up, letting a cascade of curls fall down the back of my head. The only jewelry I wore was the ring Vance had given me. It still weighed too much on my hand. It reminded me of the game I played, only it was becoming more than just a game. Had he really meant it when he proposed to me? Did I have any right to use him this way? I liked him, despite everything, despite his witch of a mother. I didn't see any way this was going to end happily, for either of us.
The sunlight outside my window faded to a strange shade of golden orange. The desert shadows were long and sharp. My stomach growled.
I took a deep breath. I was Dace, I was strong, I could do what I had to do, no matter what the cost. I had to do this.
The door to the sitting room opened. The woman from earlier was there, watching me. I saw nothing in her face to tell me if I was overdressed or underdressed. Her expression was bland and blank.
"Dinner will be served shortly," she informed me. "Your presence is requested in the salon."
"I'm ready," I said.
She nodded and turned away.
"Where is the salon?" I asked.
There was just a hint of a twitch to her lips, I hoped it was a smile. "This way, Miss Zeresthina."
The salon was at the back, a wide room with one whole wall that opened out onto the evening air. A stone patio outside was surrounded by flowering plants. The air smelled fresh. The woman left me at the door.
Vance and his mother were inside. She was smiling at him. His face was animated as he gestured broadly. He caught sight of me at the door. His smile became fixed. He stopped mid-story.
I lifted my chin, determined not to be hurt by the look on his face. He was using me, as surely as I was using him. I saw it clearly. I could play that game better than he could. I smiled at him and glided into the room.
"Good evening, Vance. Mother," I added, with a polite nod at Lady Candyce.
She stiffened. I could have slapped her and gotten less of a reaction.
"You have a lovely home," I said. "Vance, maybe we could have the ceremony here? And soon, please. We've waited too long already."
"It will take months," Vance's mother said quickly. "There are so many details that must be attended to."
"I'm afraid I neglected them," I said, smiling brightly at her. "But now that we're here with you, perhaps you could help."
"Certainly," she said, her smile frozen and tight.
Vance said nothing. I smiled at him and took his arm.
"I'm so happy, Vance."
He winced.
The gauntlet was thrown. The challenge had been made and met. I wasn't looking forward to the battle.