After I dropped off Esteri, I had several stops scheduled. Avoiding Mother was just a bonus. She’d already sent me a terse message, demanding my presence, but if I was constantly busy with House tasks then she couldn’t get angry when I didn’t show up.
Or, rather, she couldn’t get angrier.
I pressed my fingers against my eyes; I was being pulled in too many directions. With the war, marrying Lord Henderson would bring in desperately needed ships, supplies, and troops from House Henderson, which might save Benedict’s life, along with the lives of many of our soldiers.
Benedict would vehemently oppose the union, even with his life on the line, but perhaps it was time to grow up and do my duty. If only that duty weren’t so distasteful.
I swiped my identity chip over the reader in the transport and set the destination to a bakery in Sector Five of the Rockhurst quarter. When we arrived, I bought myself a coffee and Susan a spiced tea. She turned down my offer of a pastry, so I ordered a dozen pastries to go.
We continued to the Khadela quarter, aiming for a tall apartment building in Sector Seven. It wasn’t usually a good idea to drop in on a pregnant woman unannounced, but I happened to know that Lady Pippa August worked constantly, no matter what her condition. As the matriarch of the burgeoning House August, she had her hands full.
She also loved pastries, specifically the ones I’d just bought.
House August had yet to decide who to back in the war. They weren’t solid allies with any of the High Houses and tended to deal with each of us equally. It was my job to charm her to our side, but over the last couple of months, I’d found I also enjoyed her company.
She received me in the informal sitting room, an upgrade in friendliness since my last visit. She started to rise when I entered, but I waved her off. She was young for a matriarch, not yet forty, and had a delicate, petite build. She had golden-brown skin and big, dark eyes set in a face that was more cute than stunning, but her fragile appearance belied an iron will and a mind sharp enough to cut. This close to her due date, her stomach was as big as she was.
Her eyes widened in delight when she caught sight of the box in my hands.
“Lady Catarina, those had better be what I think they are or I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Junior here,” she motioned to her rounded stomach, “has been kicking my kidneys for the last hour. If those aren’t pastries, I’m going to cry.”
I handed her the box with a flourish. “See for yourself.”
“You are a saint,” she vowed, tearing the lid in her haste to open the box. She grabbed a pastry, took a large bite, and groaned in delight. “Delicious. Help yourself to the tea. Susan, you, too,” she said over my shoulder. “I need a minute with this eclair. How did you know this was my favorite bakery?”
That was Bianca’s doing. I didn’t know where my sister got her information, but it was spookily good, as evidenced by this morning’s ambush. It was all fun and games until she turned her skill on me.
“Lucky guess,” I answered with a grin.
Pippa wasn’t buying it, but she was too busy with her sugary snack to press harder.
We chatted for half an hour, catching up on gossip and news. We both knew I was here to try to win her to our side, but we didn’t talk politics or war. She told me how her husband had started hovering as she entered her final month of pregnancy and how it was driving her crazy, but her tone was fond. They were a rare love match, and it was obvious he worshipped the ground she walked on.
I reluctantly took my leave, aware that the rest of the day was not going to be as much fun as my time with Pippa. I crisscrossed the city, running errands for special delights and delivering them along with my bubbly personality. The next three Houses all had older, crankier members, but I kept my smile fastened to my face and didn’t let them rile me, no matter how sly their comments.
Bianca had dubbed this my charm offensive, and she was right. As the youngest, there wasn’t a lot I could do for House von Hasenberg right now—other than marrying—but I could socialize. I could ensure that other Houses thought of us fondly.
And so I did, but it was draining as all hell.
WHEN I FINALLY RETURNED HOME, MY FACE HURT FROM smiling and a tension headache clamped my temples. I wanted to crawl into bed and stay there, but tonight’s gala required a House von Hasenberg representative and I was it.
I entered my suite and headed straight for the bedroom. I’d already procured the two trunks I would take, but I wasn’t yet sure how to get them to my ship without tipping off Director Bishop that I planned to leave early. That was a problem for future me—too bad the future was mere hours away. For now, I had to pack before getting ready.
One might expect a summer house party to be a casual affair, but apparently Stephanie James and Chloe Patel did not agree. Guests had been advised that the James household dressed for dinner. Every night. Who did that? Psychopaths, that’s who.
I quickly selected two weeks of fashionable outfits with the ease of long practice. Dresses, skirts, slacks, blouses, and all of the various undergarments and accessories were carefully packed and placed in the first trunk. More utilitarian clothing went into the second trunk, along with a selection of weapons and other handy gadgets. On top, I packed a few specialty outfits: swimsuits, riding habits, hiking gear, and a cold weather coat. Most of it probably wouldn’t be needed, but I liked to be prepared.
And the extra clothes also nicely concealed the weapons and gear.
I locked both trunks and hoisted them onto the narrow cargo sled I’d used to retrieve them from storage. When I picked up the paired beacon, the sled lifted from the floor and floated after me. I parked it in the living room, just out of sight of the door.
Now I just had to spend a few more hours socializing, come home, grab the sled, and make it to my ship before Ian or Bianca realized I was on the move. I huffed out a laugh. No problem.
TONIGHT, I REPRESENTED HOUSE VON HASENBERG AT A charity gala for the families of fallen soldiers. With the war, it was a little too on the nose, but no one seemed to care. Elizabeth Rockhurst had also attended, representing House Rockhurst. She’d raised an eyebrow at me during the opening speech. At least I wasn’t the only one who saw the irony.
My gown was a deep, bright pink that complemented my golden skin and dark hair. The skirt flared around my knees and the modest cut made me appear younger and more innocent than I was. It was effective camouflage in a crowd of jaded socialites.
I glided from group to group, renewing acquaintances and making new connections. One of the benefits of being the daughter of a High House was being welcome nearly everywhere. And I had superb recall where names and faces were concerned.
Ada was excellent with numbers and Bianca unearthed impossible-to-find information, but I could remember the name of a person I’d met once two years ago. My skill was a lot less practical, but it was fantastic for building a large social network and keeping up my charm offensive.
My circuit of the room brought to me to an elderly woman clad in the deep black of mourning. She acknowledged me with a short nod. Wilma Sollorz had lost her beloved wife less than a month ago. Their adult daughter had taken over the House—with Wilma’s blessing—but I knew Wilma must feel unmoored after so many changes.
“Lady Sollorz, how are you this evening?” I asked gently. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, thank you, child.” She patted my arm. “You always were the kind one. Don’t lose that.”
“I will do my best,” I murmured as a sliver of guilt stole through my system. In my opinion, kindness was selfless. My actions were decidedly not. I enjoyed socializing and brightening people’s days, but I did it with the full knowledge that they were likely to think better of House von Hasenberg because of it.
I was the worst kind of hypocrite.
“I heard Lord Henderson is aiming for you,” she said with the complete lack of tact that only advanced years and a secure place could bring. “Are you going to accept him?”
“He hasn’t asked me,” I hedged.
She leaned close, her dark eyes shrewd. “If you ever need help, you only have to ask. I may not be as powerful as a Rockhurst or a Yamado, but I will help you. No one should have to endure that cad unwillingly.”
Warmth softened my expression into a genuine smile of gratitude. “Thank you, Lady Sollorz. I appreciate it. But if it comes down to it, my sisters will have my back.”
She nodded knowingly. “It’s good that you have someone to look out for you, but my offer stands.” She peered over my shoulder. “Speak of the devil.” She looped her arm around mine. “Actually, I do feel a need for some fresh air. Escort me?”
“Gladly.” I’d been dodging Lord Henderson all evening, and I was perfectly happy to continue the trend.
When he caught my eye, Henderson smirked. Anxiety tightened my stomach. His smug expression boded ill for me, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it right this second.
I escorted Wilma out onto the balcony while Susan quietly shadowed us. We were in one of the taller buildings in Sector Six of the Yamado quarter. A gentle breeze drifted around the tall glass panels that had been installed as both railing and wind block. The gorgeous view glittered with lights below us and stars above us. I could stand out here all night.
“Such a beautiful city,” Wilma murmured, “with such a dark heart.” She shook herself. “Don’t listen to this old woman’s raving. Enjoy the night air and remember what I said.”
“I will, thank you. Have a good night.”
She headed back inside. I let her go, content to remain for another minute. A few other people were enjoying the outside air.
“Incoming,” Susan warned quietly.
I turned around and found Lord Henderson making his way toward me, smug look still firmly in place. I couldn’t quite summon a smile, but at least I didn’t actively grimace at his approach. That was as much as I could do.
“Lord Henderson,” I said flatly.
“I told you to call me Rupert, darling,” he said.
“And I told you to call me Lady Catarina. It seems neither of us will get what we want.”
“Au contraire, darling. I had a very fruitful talk with Lady von Hasenberg this morning after our brunch. She gave me permission to court you openly. You will attend the symphony with me tomorrow night.”
Long practice kept the distaste out of my expression. “I already have plans, and then I will be traveling for two weeks. Perhaps we can schedule something when I return.” I got the whole sentence out without a single inflection that expressed my true feelings. I should get a gold star. And a stiff drink.
Henderson’s face clouded with anger. “Lady von Hasenberg said you would clear your schedule for me.”
I smiled sweetly. “She was wrong.”
He stepped threateningly into my space. “Listen here, you little c—”
In a heartbeat, Susan had switched places with me. “Threaten Lady Catarina again, and I will be forced to defend her,” she said calmly. “Return inside. Now.”
Henderson’s hands clenched, his face livid with rage. “This discussion is not over,” he snarled at me over Susan’s shoulder.
“Yes, it is,” I said. “Run back inside before I forget that you’re an ally.” I bit back all of the other insults I wanted to lob at him. The less I said, the less likely he’d be to run back to Mother and tattle on me.
He turned and stalked away.
“He’s going to be trouble,” Susan predicted. “We should return to House von Hasenberg before he rallies.”
I sighed. I hated ceding ground, but I was done here anyway. “Very well. Let me say my good-byes. Please call us a transport.”
She nodded, and then stayed closer than usual while I found the hosts and made my excuses. She didn’t relax until we had settled in the transport and it lifted off.
“Thank you for defending me,” I said. I could’ve handled him myself, if it came down to it, but she didn’t know that.
She waved me off. “I was just doing my job.”
“You were doing more than that. You could’ve let it slide until he physically harmed me. You didn’t. I appreciate it. And if he tries to come after you, let me know. I will hire you myself if I need to.”
“Thank you.” She paused, seemingly debating something. Finally, she said, “Will you accept his suit?”
I stared out of the window. Even the sparkling lights of Serenity offered no comfort. “I don’t know. I find him revolting, but every day the war drags on, my brother is in mortal danger. And if I spurn Henderson, he could align with Rockhurst just to spite me.”
We made the rest of the trip in silence. Susan saw me to the door of my suite and then retired for the evening when I told her I’d be staying in. I didn’t want her to get in trouble when I disappeared.
My best chance of success would be in the early hours between midnight and dawn. I really should sleep for a few hours, but the chances of that happening were nil. Instead, I changed into dark pants made of sturdy material, a stretchy black top, and heavy boots. Then I double-checked my packing, paced, and thought about what I was going to tell Bianca once I was in the air.
Hours later, I still wasn’t sure what to do about that last one, but it was time to leave anyway.
There was no point in subterfuge—I would either make it or I wouldn’t—so I headed straight for the secondary hangar where my ship waited. Confidence was key in cases like this, so I sailed by the barely awake hangar guard without a backward glance.
Chaos sat right where I’d left her, a tiny little spaceship covered in mottled black-and-gray camouflage paint. The name was an inside joke. My older siblings had lovingly dubbed me a chaos monster when I was young, thanks to my ability to slip away and get into mischief whenever I was feeling well enough. While the nickname had finally died, I’d thought it was perfect for my ship.
It didn’t hurt that the ship was smaller, faster, and stealthier than most of the ships in our fleet—the perfect agent of chaos.
I swiped my identity chip over the control panel and unlocked the cargo door. The ship only had two levels. The cargo bay in the aft spanned both, but didn’t have much horizontal area. The sled with my two trunks stacked vertically took up a third of the floor. I wouldn’t be running any resupply missions in this ship unless I turned off the gravity and stuck supplies to the walls.
I closed the cargo door and retracted the ramp, then headed upstairs to the flight deck. The top level also contained my quarters and the mess hall. The bottom level contained the medbay, guest quarters, exercise room, and maintenance access.
Because Chaos was so small, I’d forgone the traditional three-station layout on the flight deck. I’d kept the captain’s station, but I’d merged navigation and tactical into one station. I rarely had guests on my ship, and I could control the whole ship from the captain’s console. I would’ve omitted the second station, too, but some small part of me still hoped to find someone who wanted to go on adventures with me.
I slid into the captain’s chair. The window shutters were closed, but the displays showed an empty hangar. Time to see if my ship had been grounded or not.
“Chaos, take us into orbit.”
The ship chimed an acceptance and I felt the subtle vibration as the engines engaged. The engine noise ramped up and the ground dropped away in a dizzying rush. I laughed with joy. I was flying.
Chaos rocketed upward and the vast expanse of space opened before me. Something loosened in my chest and I felt like I could breathe again for the first time in months. I’d missed this.
I plotted a course for Honorius and the ship requested a jump point from the gate. Because it was stupid early, we were fifteenth in the queue. Earth’s gate was blazing fast, so in less than a minute, the engine noise changed as the FTL drive ramped up. My stomach dropped, then a heartbeat later, the noise peaked and fell silent.
The emptiness of space had been replaced by the distant view of Andromeda Prime. The planet hung suspended in the inky depths of space, sparkling red and blue in the sunlight. Andromeda Prime was one of the oldest occupied planets outside of the Milky Way and every House had a large holding here.
My com chimed with a message. I checked it and cringed when I saw Bianca’s name. The only reason my sister would be awake now was if she’d been told that I’d left. Damn Ian for not letting her sleep until a decent hour.
And damn me for not sending my explanation sooner.
I opened the message and frowned. Rather than demands, anger, or disappointment, it was just three short sentences: Be careful. I love you. Forgive me.
I was still trying to puzzle out exactly what she meant when the door to the flight deck slid open.