Himani recovered the fastest of anyone in the room. “Rumblings came through, but we all collectively ignored them.” Himani’s voice was soft and thready. “We didn’t want to believe anything bad was happening. So, we believed what was easiest.” His gaze was full of unshed tears as he finally looked up at me again. “I was angry when you said we were lazy and selfish earlier, but now I see your point. I can understand now. And it’s a horrible truth to face.” He leaned back in the armchair. “This has been hard to watch. I think I’ll need a few days to fully process not just what I’ve seen, but my role as a member of the media in letting these atrocities happen.”
There was a relief that came to me with Himani’s words. I’d gotten through to him, which meant that I had to have gotten through to at least some of the Aunare. I couldn’t change what happened in the past, but I could change the path that the Aunare were on. I could make a difference to the Aunare and innocent Earthers that were still fighting against SpaceTech.
So that’s what I had to try to do. “I’m sorry for—”
“No, child. Do not apologize. Not ever. Not when it is we who owe you the greatest of apologies.”
The room was quiet, and for the first time today, I wasn’t sure what to say next. Except for one thing. “We need to be united against SpaceTech. We can’t afford to sit back and let SpaceTech take any more from the Aunare than they already have.”
“I have a question. If I may?” Himani’s shoulders were a little slouched, and the lines on his face seemed deeper. It was like the information I’d shared had been a physical weight to him.
He was definitely going to need more than a few days to process everything.
I gave him a small nod. “Of course.” I’d honestly expected a lot more questions from him throughout the footage.
“The train cars in Albuquerque. You mentioned them to me in the arena.” Himani tilted his head as he stared at me.
“What’s the question?” If he’d asked one, I hadn’t heard it.
“Are there really train cars of Aunare bones on Earth?”
He had to be kidding. “Why would I make up something like that?”
“It’s true. All of it,” Roan said from behind the cameras.
Himani nodded slowly. “You’re right. We can’t sit here and do nothing. Not anymore.” Himani’s skin lit from within. “Not anymore.”
Finally. This. This is what I needed to hear. Someone who was on the same page as I was. “I know you’re angry right now. I know this was hard. I promise you it was so much harder living through all of that than it was to watch it. That anger that you’re feeling right now after watching all those people die? That’s raging even hotter inside me. It’s had thirteen years to burn. So, when your news reporters call me angry or grumpy, please remember what you’re feeling right now.”
I hoped that everyone watching the feed right now was feeling the same things as those in the room with me now. “I’m not your enemy. I will fight to protect the Aunare with everything that I am. I will fight until I have no more air in my lungs, and then I will fight some more. And if I can ask one more question of you—ask yourself why anyone would speak out against me? If I’m here to protect you, what are the Aunare that hate me truly doing? Because it’s not anything good.”
“You’ve given us so much to think on, and I’m thankful that we have a leader in charge that will save us despite our faults. I—” Himani’s voice shook. “I think I need to pause the live feed now,” Himani said into the camera in front of him. “But I have a few parting words before I sign off.”
He stared down at his lap for a second, and then looked back again, straight into the camera. This time, the broken look was a little less. He’d put it away to give them a clear message, and I hoped it was good.
“Amihanna di Aetes has lived up to her lineage and done it proud. She’s given all of us a lot to think about.” The shaking was gone from Himani’s voice. “I don’t want to waste any of your time while I struggle with what I now see is the truth, but I know that—without any doubt in my soul—that we, the Aunare people, have hard work to do. Every single Aunare alive has work to do.” He paused for a moment. “My work means that I endeavor to find answers to why this was such a shock to me. I’m a person of the media, and I should have known. It’s my job to keep all of you informed, and I failed at that. I need to know why we lied to you so horribly, and who exactly is behind all these evil stories on an innocent young woman who might become the greatest leader the Aunare have ever seen.” His voice got shaky again, and he took a moment to gather himself. “I’ll have more of my report before the evening news. Watch for alerts from my channel with updates. And until then, I will say, we all owe our life and our support to Amihanna di Aetes. If for nothing else than for making us see. We owe her a debt, and I—for one—will work my hardest to repay it. She has my full support as our future High Queen.”
I’d hoped he would leave them with a good final message, but this was better than good. This was amazing, and way more than I dreamed I’d get from him.
Now I had a strong vote in my favor from a man who had a massive following with the Aunare. If I’d changed his mind, then I had to have gotten through to at least some of the audience watching.
The cameras all zoomed back to Himani’s crew, and I let out a long breath.
Done.
I’d made it through. I wanted to run from the room and from everyone watching me, but I forced myself to move slowly as I stood.
I wanted to look at Lorne, but I wasn’t sure what he was thinking or feeling and I was terrified that by not giving him a warning, I’d broken something with us.
He’d destroyed his crown. On a live feed.
He was sitting there with his head bowed, forearms on his knees, and he looked like a broken king.
I’d broken him.
I assumed he needed a minute. I hoped after that he’d want to talk to me.
So, I was a coward as I rose from my spot and prayed that I could slip out of the room without notice.
The other people in the room were talking softly to each other. I gave a nod to Himani and moved to leave, but my father crossed the room quickly, gripping my wrist before I could get to the door.
I stopped and turned back to him. He looked heartbroken, but it wasn’t from the footage I’d played or the truths I’d spoken. It was his job to know what happened on Earth, and he’d been back to Earth before. He knew what it was like. So, why did he look like his soul had just been ripped from his body?
“What?”
“You really slept in that dumpster?”
Seriously? After everything I’d shown him today that was what he was focused on?
I glanced at Mom. Sometimes I didn’t think we were alike at all, and then she said or did something, and it was so clear that I was her kid. I held back from Lorne just as much as she held back from my father. “You haven’t told him?”
Mom gave me this little sigh, and I knew what she was going to say. I knew it, but I needed to hear it. She’d been distant ever since I got here, and she seemed to be over everything. Like it never happened, and when I couldn’t snap my fingers and be done with the past, she left me to struggle alone.
My father abandoned me on Earth thirteen years ago, and my mother abandoned me when we got to Sel’Ani weeks ago.
She wrung her fingers together. “It was hard coming back here, mija.” She was quiet for a second before continuing. “You know how I am. I don’t talk about my emotions much, and I was grateful to finally be safe and with your father again. It didn’t seem like it would do any good to talk about it. And so I didn’t. I just wanted it to be over, so...”
So she left me to deal with the trauma on my own. “And now?”
Mom walked across the room and wrapped her arms around me. “And now, I know I can’t ignore the pain of the past. Especially when my daughter is brave enough to face it straight on.” She turned to my father but kept her arms around me. “We survived, but barely. Barely. She wasn’t brushing over the bad parts on that arena stage, but she didn’t go into any details. She showed some of it today, but that dumpster part was just a moment really. One moment in thirteen years of struggling every single day. It was worse and harder than anything she’s said. It was worse being there than it was to watch it. I promise you that.”
She squeezed me tighter before letting me go. “It was hard for me these last thirteen years, but so much worse for her because she protected me so many times. If I got caught, I would be okay. But she was from a strong bloodline. There was no hiding what she was, and yet, she was so brave and strong. A true di Aetes. She worked, she saved to buy a ship, she made plan after plan of how to escape, she taught kids to defend themselves, she patrolled the streets to keep us and our neighbors safe, and she never gave up. She—”
“Mom.” She was making me out to be a saint, and I wasn’t. I really wasn’t. Especially not after what I’d done today. “We both worked hard to survive.”
She laughed. “No. Not like you did. And after years on the run, we eventually found a home. It wasn’t much, but it was mostly safe.” She reached a hand out, and Roan stepped toward her. “And most importantly, we had friends who became family. Who protected us.”
“Damn right you did,” Roan said. “The Crew had your back.”
I gave my mom a kiss on the cheek. The tiny cameras zoomed around us to get the action from multiple angles. I’d thought that when the cameras went back to their crew, that the live-feed and the recording had stopped. Apparently not.
I did my best to see past the cameras when I looked at Roan and motioned toward the door.
“I was hoping for a few follow-up questions.” Himani called out to me. “I’ve ended the live feed to give the audience—and myself—time to breathe. I think we all need it, but I feel like if I let you go now, I’ll never get to talk to you again. I know you don’t love giving interviews, but… I need a moment to compose myself, then I’d like to talk again. In an hour or so? If you’ll allow it.”
“I have to train.” I paused for a second. He’d signed off, and I thought we were done. But he was right. I wasn’t planning on doing another interview. Hopefully not for a while. I felt exposed enough as it was, but I wasn’t sure what to do.
“You were listening a few minutes ago, right?” I asked Himani. “You did hear the part about the ongoing war? About how we need to be ready, which means I should be spending every second I have preparing. I don’t know when I’ll have time for another interview like this.”
“Oh, I heard every word you spoke, but I’d love a little more of your time. Given everything you’ve shown me, I think I finally have a few questions. I need a moment to get my thoughts together and talk to my crew. Do a little research. Might I join you while you train? By the time you’re finished, I should be ready. I could ask you some things when you’re done. I’m happy to wait. It won’t be live, and I’ll show all of your people what I plan to use before airing.”
I wasn’t sure what to do, and no one seemed to be stepping in for me—so I dared a look back at Lorne. He was still sitting on the loveseat. His mask was in place as he watched me, and I desperately wanted to be alone with him.
Later. We’d talk later. And if he was upset with me, I would deal with that then.
I looked at Himani and then back at Lorne, hoping he’d understand my question.
He gave me a small shrug as if to tell me that this was my show. He was hiding something, but I wasn’t sure what. Other than anger. At me? At the past? I wasn’t sure.
I wanted to be done with Himani and this interview. I wanted to talk to Lorne. I wanted to take a minute to push the past back where it belonged. But I was okay with Himani coming to my training session. It might even be good if he came with his cameras.
“It wouldn’t be live?”
“No.”
“And if I want something cut?”
“Roan has been very outspoken about what’s allowed. He can work with my assistants to have anything sensitive either cut or important details blurred or skipped over.”
It seemed fair, but I wasn’t sure if extending the interview and letting him follow me to my training session was a good idea. His cameras were still following us, and I wondered if he ever really turned them off.
Screw it. This interview was supposed to be for the Aunare to learn more about me. What better way than if they saw me train? “Sure, follow me. You can ask questions as I take breaks in my training. Any footage to be released needs to be approved by Roan. Okay?”
“That’s very fair of you and much appreciated,” he said, rising from his chair, sending his assistants and production people scrambling to grab everything they needed from the room.
I nodded to Eshrin, who was standing by the door. I knew he’d follow me as I stepped into the hallway with Roan. Two of my guards stepped away from where they were leaning against the wall outside the interview room and started moving down the hallway, clearing the path for me.
The hallways were usually mostly empty, but today it was filled with guards, housemaids tidying up after the crew, kitchen staff making sure the narrow tables they’d lined the halls with were stocked with snacks and beverages, and then all the crew and everyone who had piled in the room to watch the filming that were now leaving. It added up to a lot of people in one hallway.
My guards knew where I was going next, even though they had to adjust the plan to include a crowd of observers. Eshrin was tapping on his wrist unit, and I knew he was most likely signaling for backup.
Oh man. This was going to turn into a circus, and I was already regretting inviting Himani to join us.
I peeked over my shoulder. Himani was a few feet behind me, whispering with one of his slew of assistants. My parents were beside him. My guards were mixed with Lorne’s and spread throughout the group. The little flying cameras started moving through the hallway, trying to keep up with me as they filmed. But Lorne still stood back in the doorway to the informal meeting room. He was leaning close to Fynea, whispering in her ear, probably so that he wouldn’t be overheard.
I faced forward and kept walking, but a second later, I looked back, and Lorne was weaving his way through the people to get to me.
He wrapped an arm around me as soon as he was close enough. “You could’ve warned me,” his lips brushed my ear as he whispered.
I put a hand over my mouth to hide my lips from the cameras and whispered back to him. “I could’ve—and I almost did—but I wanted your reaction to be honest. I didn’t want there to be any arguments that I had staged some big production to manipulate the Aunare and that you were somehow complicit in it.”