by Zara Zenia
“Yes,” Margot assured him. “I just need help packing for this painting trip. I don't know what to do.”
“I see,” Pralmav said. “Can you put my wife back on the screen, please?”
“Yes,” she said, handing the phone back to Milinna.
“Are you all right?” Pralmav asked her.
“I am,” Milinna assured him. “I'm happy to help Margot. I think it's wonderful that Draklan is taking her away.”
“All right. Call if you are not all right,” Pralmav said and ended the call.
Margot caught the look on Milinna's face just before she replaced it with a smile. “Did you two have a fight?” Margot asked, confused.
“No,” she said. “He's just focused on work.”
“Oh,” Margot replied. “Well . . . I mean, I'm sure that you will take a trip soon as well. When I think about it, Draklan didn't read my mind. I did have to ask him.”
“You asked?” Milinna said, surprised.
“I didn't specifically come out and ask,” Margot said, “but he'd have to pretty dense to not hear that I wanted it.”
She meant it as a joke, but Milinna only looked down. Margot's heart sank.
“What is it?” she asked. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say anything wrong.”
“No, no,” Milinna assured her. “It wasn't you. You didn't say anything wrong.”
“Then what it is?” she asked, hoping that she could help.
“He would take me if I asked,” Milinna said. “When work is not busy. But I love work. I love working alongside him. I'm happy just as long as I'm there. I don't mind where we are.”
“That's so nice,” she said. “Does he know that? Have you ever told him that?”
“I haven't,” she admitted. “Oh, Margot, I don't think I could tell him that.”
“Of course you could,” Margot said. “People need to hear these things.”
“Some people,” she said. “Pralmav wouldn't know what to do with words like that. And he . . . well, I did sort of ask once. It was right after I got better. I had been sick for so long, and I thought if we went away, it would be the final push in recovery.”
“And he said no?” she asked, appalled.
“Not exactly,” Milinna said. “He just said that he'd be very worried about me traveling, and he wanted me to recover here, and then we never revisited it.”
“Oh, but you should!” Margot gushed.
Milinna shrugged. “We are packing for your trip, aren't we?” she said. “Now, I know nothing about fashion, but I can be practical. Tell me exactly where you are going and we can look up the weather.”
Margot laughed at that because it was exactly the kind of comment that she expected from her sister-in-law. Day by day, they went through Margot's schedule and their needs, deciding between short sleeves and long sleeves, warmth, and attractiveness.
Margot appreciated that her sister-in-law was very good at seeing practical combinations and seeing exactly what could go with what, and which items could be reused. She didn’t have to ask how many combinations of brushes and paints she needed, but Milinna wrote out an algorithm to decide what number she needed to pack anyway. When they were done packing, Margot had a trunk that was half the size of what she had anticipated, but was it filled with everything that she could possibly think of.
“Wow,” Margot said. “Where have you been all my life? I've paid so many oversized baggage fees.”
“What's that?” Milinna asked.
Margot realized at that moment just how big of a gap there was between them. Earth was a million miles away at that moment. “Never mind,” Margot said. “It looks like I'm all packed. Thank you.”
“Of course,” Milinna said. “It was a pleasure.”
“Can I . . .” Margot paused, not sure of the right words. She wasn't sure whether Milinna was the right person to discuss her next train of thought, but she didn't exactly have anyone else to discuss it with. It wasn't as if she could talk it through with Rabbina or Joronna. She thought about discussing it with her own mother, but her mother didn't know Draklan like the rest of them. “I kissed Draklan.”
Milinna looked surprised at this. “Oh,” she said. “Is that . . . is that a good thing?”
“It was sort of impulsive,” Margot admitted. “My ex, David, had been constantly calling and yelling at me and begging me to come back. I finally couldn't deal with it anymore, and Draklan took over. He blocked David from all the Tamaraxian channels. I was so grateful, I kissed him.”
“Are you happy about it?” Milinna asked. “You clearly wanted to.”
“I did,” she said. “I've just been thinking a lot about it and I'm not really sure. I think I want to do it again.”
“Oh,” Milinna said.” Well . . . then it is a good thing.”
“Yes,” Margot said. “It was the first time we've kissed. Although I've . . . imagined quite a bit more.”
Milinna blushed at that. “Oh,” she said.
Margot saw that she was making her uncomfortable. “Sorry!” Margot said. “I just wanted some advice.”
“I may have been able to figure out the clothes, but I certainly have no idea how to . . .”
“Let's talk about something else,” Margot said, sitting down. “Tell me about you. I don't know much about you since I came here.”
The girls settled in to chat for quite a bit longer until the bell was rung for dinner. Margot was getting used to being summoned by a butler for dinner, with a tiny bell and a beautiful array of food that seemed like it was out of a fantasy novel, every night.
Milinna left to get dressed for dinner, and Margot was trying to choose between one of the three dresses she had left when Draklan appeared at her door. He was already dressed for dinner, and once again, he looked stunning in his all-black suit and strong cheekbones. Margot felt frumpy beside him, as her hair was still messy from the day and she needed to work on her makeup. She felt like hiding behind her curtains when he walked in. He didn't seem to notice, however, and gave her a kind smile.
“You look nice,” he said.
She looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “I'm not changed yet,” was all that she could manage.
“Oh,” he said. “Well, that's . . . all right. I just wanted to talk to you about something.”
She picked up on the tone on his voice and paused in her movements. “This sounds serious,” she said.
Draklan smiled. “It's nothing you haven't heard before,” he said. “I've just run into my mother in the hallway, and she asked the question she always asks.”
“About producing an heir?” she said.
“That's it,” Draklan said. “And I'm sure that she is going to bring it up again at dinner. She seems to not be able to get off that topic. Bhatraz says she's already asked him about three times today.”
“What about Pralmav and Milinna?” she asked.
“What about them?”
“Did she ask them?” Margot said.
“She usually doesn't,” Draklan replied. “But I don't think she expects a child out of that union . . . anymore.”
“Milinna probably wants one, though,” she said. “She was just here for hours. She . . .”
“I know,” Draklan replied. “My brother has many issues of his own to deal with. However, I wanted to inform you of our situation.”
“Thank you for the warning,” Margot said. “I'll tell her that the painting trip will do us good.”
“Oh,” Draklan said, grinning. “All right.”
“And it will, won’t it?” Margot said, half hopefully and half cheekily.
Draklan grinned but didn't respond to that. “I'll see you there,” he said and ducked out of the room.
Margot sighed, putting her hands over her face. She felt like she was making progress, and then she got overly eager and took four steps backward instead of a step forward. She decided she was going to be more careful when they left for their trip.
Dinner was as awkward as Draklan ha
d warned her it would be. Margot awoke in the morning just grateful that somehow, she had survived it. The sun was shining in the windows, the birds were chirping, and she felt a new sense of hope.
They had plans to leave mid-morning, and although Margot felt like she had given herself plenty of time, she still found herself scrambling to get out of her room and down into the hangar bay on time. She put in a last-minute call to her mother, hoping that she would give her approval of how she looked for the trip.
“Where are you going again?” her mother asked, squinting at the camera. “Is it some sort of party?”
“No, Mother,” Margot said. “I told you, it's just a painting trip. But I do want to look nice.”
“Of course, you do,” her mother said. “But Margot . . . that looks more like you’re going out on the town than on a painting trip.”
“Ugh,” Margot sighed.
Her mother chuckled sadly. “I wish I could be there,” she said. “I wish I was there to help you and be by your side.”
Margot felt her sadness and put down her makeup brush. “Is everything all right, Mom?” she asked, and her mother tried to smile.
“Of course,” she said. “I just miss you.”
“I miss you too,” Margot responded. “But you can always visit.”
“Can't you visit here?” her mother asked. “You aren't a prisoner, are you?”
“No, of course not,” Margot said. “It's just . . . I'm barely settled in here. I don't want to distract myself. Even if I miss you lots.”
“Are you having trouble with your marriage?” she asked. “I mean, you didn't even know him, Margot. You can't really expect that everything would be perfect right away. Arranged marriages seem like such an archaic concept.”
“But they worked for so long,” Margot pointed out.
“And I suppose you did use a matchmaker,” her mother said.
Margot froze. She didn’t want to give anything away about the matchmaker. “Yeah,” Margot said. “Sorry, Mom, I really want to talk, but I need to go soon, and maybe you have a suggestion for my makeup?”
“Right,” her mother said and squinted toward the camera. “Maybe lighten the eyeshadow a bit.”
After twenty minutes, Margot finally felt acceptable enough to leave her room. She was only five minutes late for the hangar, and she was surprised when she didn’t find Draklan, but rather, Bhatraz was there.
“Hello,” she said. She always tried to remain polite to him, despite the fact that they were clearly not on the best of terms. To her surprise, Bhatraz smiled back at her.
“Hello,” he said. “I thought it was only fitting that I saw you both off, given the fact that I arranged everything. I didn't want you or Draklan to have to go through any more work than you already have. I want everything to be perfect for you.”
“Oh,” Margot responded, surprised. “That is very kind of you. But you didn't have to do that. You’re busy.”
“I want to,” Bhatraz said.
“Where is Draklan?” she asked, feeling uncomfortable. She spent most of her days without him, but she wanted him by her side more than ever at this moment.
Bhatraz smiled easily. “He's not here yet, but perhaps I could give you a tour of the shuttle you will be taking?”
“Uh . . .” It was a very small shuttle, and Margot didn't particularly feel like she needed a tour of it. However, she thought that perhaps her brother-in-law was trying to extend an olive branch, so she didn't want to be rude. “Sure,” she said.
“Come this way,” Bhatraz said, leading her onto the ship. She noticed as they stepped onboard that there was a small, crusty mechanic running around. He was skinny and short, with a broad nose and hair going every which way. He was under the shuttle and then in front of it at lightning-fast speed, tinkering with things, twitching, and muttering to himself, then changing to a different location.
“Ignore him. He's just the mechanic.”
“Is everything okay with the ship?” Margot asked, unsure. “This one isn't broken, is it? It isn't an old ship?”
“No,” Bhatraz replied. “Every shuttle here, or every moving vehicle in general, is serviced before every trip.”
“Oh, that's great,” Margot said. “That's better than safety regulations on Earth.”
“Oh,” Bhatraz said. “That's dangerous.”
“I guess . . .” she said. “I mean, so far, people are fine. They check that everything is okay, but they don't do a full service.”
“Right,” Bhatraz said. “Here, this is the front entrance. You can put your bag here.”
“Oh, okay.” Margot really did think that perhaps he was trying to put the past behind him. After all, he had arranged this trip, and Draklan did say he had been easier to get along with.
“This is the control panel,” he said. “Draklan is going to drive?”
“I sure hope so,” she replied. “Because I have no idea what to do. I think that's the On button, right?”
“Mmm,” Bhatraz said, and she glanced at him.
“Do you think that I should get a license here?”
“Oh, I don't think that you need to worry about that,” Bhatraz replied.
Margot, however, was not satisfied with that answer. “Does Rabbina have a license?”
“She does,” he answered, which made Margot raise an eyebrow.
“Does Milinna have a license?”
“Uh . . .” he paused. “I think that she does, but she doesn't drive at all.”
“So I should get one, then,” Margot replied.
“Your future is going to be much different than theirs,” Bhatraz said.
“What do you mean?” Margot asked.
As Draklan came onboard, he asked, “What are you doing?” He looked at his brother and then at Margot.
“I'm just giving your lovely wife a tour,” Bhatraz said. “Is that not allowed? Are you going to be one of those husbands who keeps his wife locked up in a cage?”
“Uh, no,” Draklan said. “I just have no idea why you need a tour for a shuttle that you can barely turn around in.”
“I've never been in a shuttle like this before,” Margot said, trying to defend Bhatraz. If he really was trying to be nice, she didn't want it to be ruined so quickly. “So it was nice. I saw where I could put my stuff and where the control panel is.”
“Yeah.” Draklan gave her a funny look and then looked to his brother. “All is well?”
“Everything is arranged, exactly as I told you,” Bhatraz said.
“What's with the mechanic?” Draklan said.
Margot piped up, happy to know the answer, “All ships on Tamarax are serviced before they take off, no matter what size they are.”
“Uh, usually by people who know what they are doing,” Draklan said. “That guy didn't look like he knew what he was doing.”
“Of course he knew what he was doing,” Bhatraz said. “Have some trust, Brother. No, have an adventurous spirit. You'll need it for the journey.”
Draklan raised his eyebrow but then decided not to pick a fight. “We'll be fine,” he said, at last. “Thank you, Brother.”
“All right, I'll be off then,” Bhatraz said. “Make sure to call me if you need anything else. You two have a good trip.”
He headed off, and Margot watched him go with a smile.
“That was nice of him,” she said at last.
“Sure,” Draklan said.
Margot turned to him. “What?” she asked.
“It's just . . . I don't know. Two minutes ago, we were at each other's throat. But I guess that's Bhatraz for you. One minute, he's great and the next, he's terrible.”
“Was he always like that?” Margot asked.
Draklan shrugged. “I'd like to say it got worse after my father died . . . but he was always like this in some way. Two-faced.”
“I think you need to think the best of him,” Margot said. “He's trying. I think he's turned over a new leaf.”
“Perhaps,” Drakla
n said. “Anyway, he's gone now. So let me show the . . .”
“I've had a tour already,” Margot teased him.
Draklan smiled. “Yes, you've had a superficial tour,” he said. “But I actually need to show you the safety features in case anything happens.”
“Oh, they do this on Earth.” She grinned. “Do you have a safety video?”
“Uh, no,” he said. “I was just going to tell you.”
She smiled at her own joke and let him show her around.
“So,” he said. “If something were to happen to me, this is the communication system. It's a satellite radio, so it's probably the most like what you are used to.”
“Who do I call?” she asked.
“There will be lots of people on the channel,” he said. “So just call mayday, and someone will be able to help or talk you through what you need.”
“Okay,” she said. “Satellite radio. Got it. What else?”
“If you’re brave,” he said, “this is the control panel. The people on the radio should be able to talk you through it, but this is on, off . . .”
He went on to show her the different features of the shuttle, and she felt confident in his explanation. She felt so confident, in fact, that when he was done, she looked up at him with shining eyes.
“Do you think I could try?”
“Try what?” he asked.
“To take off?”
“Oh,” he said. “Really?”
“Gotta learn sometime, right?” she said. “Plus, I heard the other two princesses can fly, so I want to be able to keep up.”
“All right, why not?” he said.
She squealed. “Really?” she asked.
“Here, sit here,” he said. “I'll guide you through it.”
Margot shuddered with excitement as she sat down where he told her. She drove very infrequently at home because traffic scared her. But clear skies made her feel less like she was going to crash into something.
“Now.” Draklan stood behind her and reached around her, guiding her hands to the first few controls. “Now, go here . . . all right, press that . . . now, wait. Check your levels. You want everything to be green.”
“That one is yellow,” Margot said.
