by Kass Morgan
“Just wait until after they serve the appetizers,” Vesper said, patting his arm. “If you delay dinner, I’ll kill you myself.”
A few older guests they didn’t know—high-ranking Federation officials and fleet officers—sat down at their table, giving Cormak, Vesper, and Dash cursory nods before continuing their conversation.
Finally, Arran rushed over and took his seat. “Sorry,” he said, slightly breathless. “I got tied up. Did I miss anything?”
But before any of them could respond, Zafir stood up, and the din of chatter died away. “Welcome, everyone. As you all know, we’re here to honor a very special guest. The last time most of you were here, this school was the heart of our battle against the Sylvans. This was where we debated new tactics, developed new technologies, and trained the next generation of warriors. And the new Academy will continue to be the backbone of the Quatra Fleet. We’ll be the guardians of our legacy—the good and the bad—and we’ll use these hard-earned lessons to prepare our future leaders for a new world. A peaceful world. For we are no longer at war with the Sylvans. Nor are we at war against our own people.” Zafir paused as a few people shifted uncomfortably in their chairs or exchanged knowing looks. “We claimed that we were training cadets to fight the Sylvans, yet the truth is that only a fraction of the Quatra Fleet ever engaged in direct battle. The majority were eventually sent to Chetire, Deva, and Loos, where their primary responsibility was to intimidate Settlers, enforce cruel laws, and suppress rebellion.” Zafir’s face hardened, and his voice grew slightly louder. “No more. That era is behind us, and while we won’t erase it or hide it, lest we repeat the mistakes of the past, we’re going to make good on the empty promises we’ve been making for generations. The Quatra Fleet Academy, and the fleet itself, will be devoted to protecting and uplifting every person in the solar system. We’ve been given an extraordinary gift in the chance to start over, to do better, and it begins now.” He took a breath and smiled. “And with that, it’s my privilege to introduce our honored guest this evening, a person who embodies this new era of cooperation and understanding. May I present the Sylvan ambassador to the Quatra Federation… Orelia Kerr.”
The room broke into applause, and as Orelia made her entrance, looking dignified and splendid in her Sylvan robes, no one clapped harder than Vesper, Arran, and Cormak. Vesper put her hand in Cormak’s and he squeezed it, wordlessly conveying everything they were both thinking. She would be excited to face any future with Cormak by her side.
CHAPTER 30
ORELIA
It was only the third party Orelia had been to in her entire life, and this time she wouldn’t be able to skulk in the corner, observing from the safety of the shadows. She was the guest of honor and would have to spend the event making small talk with the dizzying array of important Quatrans who kept appearing at her side.
The dinner had been manageable, as there’d only been eight people at her table, but the post-dinner reception was beginning to feel overwhelming. A trio of musicians had been given special security clearance for the evening—the first time in Academy history—and the center of the room was a blur of swirling skirts and gleaming brass buttons as the guests danced beneath the star-filled windows. But Orelia barely had time to glance their way. Every few minutes, the vice president of the Quatra Federation would guide Orelia to a different cluster of people waiting to bombard her with questions about Sylvan.
“Don’t worry,” Arran had joked earlier that night. “No matter what you do, you’ll still be the best Sylvan ambassador in history.”
“But if I’m terrible, I might be the first and last Sylvan ambassador to the Quatra System,” she’d responded.
She scanned the crowded room for Arran, but he was nowhere in sight. Vesper, Cormak, and Dash had also disappeared in the crowd. Orelia forced a smile and turned back to the Tridian commerce minister, who was talking about an elaborate trade deal he was hoping to propose to the Sylvans. Trade deal, perfect, Orelia thought grimly as her heart began to race. She’d grown up on a military base, where she’d never had any need to handle money, let alone think about trade deals. Just smile and nod, she told herself. It wasn’t her job to discuss the minutiae of policy; she was here to foster “understanding and goodwill,” which had sounded easy enough. Though now, looking at all the people eager to talk to her, she wasn’t so sure.
“Sorry, coming through. Urgent diplomatic business.” Orelia turned to see Vesper elbowing her way through the crowd while Arran and Cormak trailed after her, looking slightly embarrassed and amused, respectively. “We need to speak to the ambassador immediately.” A few people looked askance as Vesper grabbed Orelia’s hand and began to pull her away, but of course no one objected.
“Vesper thought you looked like you needed rescuing,” Cormak explained as Vesper led them to the far side of the hall.
“Was it that obvious?” Orelia asked.
“Not at all,” Arran said, shooting Cormak a look. “You’re doing great. We just figured you needed a break.”
They sat at one of the empty tables, and Vesper produced a flask of nitro spirit from her pocket. “What are you doing?” Cormak asked, glancing over his shoulder.
“Oh, relax. No one’s looking over here. Besides, Orelia has diplomatic immunity.”
Cormak rolled his eyes. “I meant, why would you smuggle in disgusting, cheap nitro spirit when we’re at an official fleet reception with a full bar? We can just go up and order drinks.”
“Oh, right.” For a moment, Vesper looked uncharacteristically abashed, but then she grinned and shrugged. “Well, this will save us a trip to the bar.”
“For the most ambitious girl in the solar system, you can be ridiculously lazy,” Cormak said with an indulgent smile.
Orelia felt a flood of warmth as she looked around the table. The past few weeks had been so chaotic, she hadn’t had time to think about how much she’d missed her squadron mates.
Vesper took a sip, then passed the flask to Orelia.
“Careful,” Arran said, raising his eyebrows. “We don’t want a repeat of last time.”
“What happened last time?” Cormak asked, looking from Arran to Orelia.
“Nothing!” Orelia said quickly while Arran laughed. “Okay, fine. I had a little too much to drink and Arran had to help me back to my room.”
“Really?” Cormak said incredulously. “How did I miss that?”
“Flirting with Vesper used to take up a lot of your time and energy,” Arran said.
They all laughed, prompting a few curious stares from the dance floor, but Orelia didn’t care. Her life no longer depended on keeping a low profile; she had nothing to hide anymore. She wasn’t training fourteen hours a day for a top-secret mission that could determine the future of her people. She wasn’t using a fake accent and a fake identity while embedded behind enemy lines. She sighed happily, releasing the tension that she’d been carrying for so long she’d forgotten what it was like to live without it.
But there was something else—it wasn’t just the lack of tension that made everything feel different. Looking around the table, she felt a surge of affection for her squadron mates: people she cared about and who, for one reason or another, seemed to care about her. For the first time in her life, she had real friends.
“So what happens now?” Cormak asked her. “Are you going to be based on Tri? Or are you going to travel around?”
“I’m not actually sure,” she said. “I think we’re still figuring that out.”
“Maybe you’ll get to stay at the Academy,” Arran said hopefully. “You can be the ambassador in residence.”
“I think Tri is the likeliest option,” Vesper said. “You can stay at my place if you want!”
“How many rooms do you have?” Cormak asked, shaking his head.
“I have a sneaking suspicion that the Federation will provide housing for Orelia. She’s an ambassador,” Arran said proudly. “Though maybe you can come back here to give lectures or so
mething.”
Vesper nodded. “That’s an excellent idea. I’m going to mention it to Zafir.”
“Mention it to whom?” a voice said. Orelia turned to see Zafir standing next to her, looking around the table with an amused expression.
“To Admiral Prateek,” Vesper said, blushing slightly.
“Zafir is fine,” he said. “I was just teasing you.”
“Yeah, the thing is, it can be really hard to tell with you sometimes,” Cormak said.
Zafir raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take that under consideration.”
“See! That’s what I’m talking about!” Cormak looked to the others for backup, but they just smiled politely.
“If you’ll excuse us, I need to borrow Orelia for some…” He pressed his lips together. “Urgent diplomatic business.”
“Was I gone for too long?” Orelia asked anxiously as Zafir led her toward the middle of the dance floor. “Who do I need to talk to now?”
Zafir took her hand and wrapped his other arm around her waist. “No one,” he whispered into her ear. “I just wanted you to myself for a moment.”
Orelia shivered as the tickle of his breath on her skin cleared her brain of every thought, including how terrified she was of dancing. Zafir began to sway from side to side, placing just enough pressure on her that she had no choice but to move in sync. For the first few moments, she felt stiff and awkward—and convinced that everyone was staring at her—but then the warmth of Zafir’s hands seemed to spread through her body, making everything feel loose and limber.
Feeling confident enough to stop staring at her feet, she looked up and met Zafir’s eyes. He was staring at her with a look she couldn’t quite identify, but that made her shudder nonetheless. “Are you okay?” he whispered.
“More than okay.”
He reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger on her cheek. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“How am I supposed to remember?” she asked with a smile. “I’ve spoken to so many people tonight, it’s impossible to keep all the conversations straight.”
“Fair enough. I’ll just have to keep telling you.” He drew her closer to him until she was pressed against his chest. “You look beautiful.”
Orelia was vaguely aware of music soaring around them, but it was drowned out by the thud of Zafir’s heart beating in time with her own. At that moment, it seemed impossible that she’d ever put a foot out of place dancing with him. She’d never known that two bodies could move in sync like this.
“You have no idea how badly I want to kiss you right now,” he murmured.
“What’s stopping you?”
“It doesn’t seem quite fitting for the superintendent of the Quatra Fleet Academy to make out with the new Sylvan ambassador during her very first reception.”
Orelia sighed dramatically. “First you couldn’t kiss me because I was your student. And now you’re saying you can’t kiss me because I’m an ambassador? What’s with all the excuses?” She cocked her head to the side. “Though, if I remember correctly, I didn’t take no for an answer that first time.”
“No, you certainly didn’t.”
“And I don’t see any reason why I should do so now.” She raised her chin and let her lips brush lightly against his while her hand pressed against his lower back. Then she pulled back and surveyed him with a smile. “So, Admiral. Where exactly do diplomats sleep when they’ve been invited to late-night receptions at the Quatra Fleet Academy?”
“The VIP guest suite has been prepared for you. We had to downgrade President Hobart, but she was a good sport about it.”
“And how far is that from the faculty quarters?”
“Very far.” His fingers pressed harder against her waist. “But the superintendent’s quarters aren’t in the faculty wing.”
“No? So where are they?”
“Quite close to the guest rooms, actually.”
“And now that I’m not a cadet, I suppose I don’t have to worry about curfew, do I?”
“Definitely not.” He shook his head. “In fact, I think that, as ambassador, you have every right to arrange a conference with the superintendent at any hour.”
“Does that count as urgent diplomatic business?” Orelia asked, rising onto her toes to whisper into Zafir’s ear.
“Absolutely. In fact, I can’t think of anything more urgent,” he said with a grin that left Orelia suddenly short of breath. “Now come on. Let’s get you back out there to wrap up your rounds. I’m not sure how much longer I can wait for our… policy discussion.”
Zafir kept his arm around her waist as he guided her off the dance floor and steered her toward the Quatran vice president, who was scanning the room, clearly searching for Orelia. “You’ve got this,” Zafir whispered. “You’ve been brilliant all night. You’ve been brilliant since the moment I met you.” He slowed down and turned to look at her. “Is it strange for me to say that I’m proud of you?”
“Why would that be strange?” she asked, doing her best to keep her face from erupting into a decidedly unprofessional grin.
“I don’t know. What right does an admiral have to be proud of an ambassador? It doesn’t seem like quite the right word.”
“It’s all that I want,” Orelia said quietly, realizing that she meant it. She’d been pleased to make General Greet proud, of course, but she’d done so by fulfilling Greet’s vision for a secret agent, whereas Zafir was proud of her for being herself. Somewhere behind her, she heard Cormak’s distinctive laugh and felt a wave of contentment wash over her. She might’ve discovered it in the unlikeliest of places, but she’d finally found the home she’d been looking for.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
None of my books would exist without the creativity and dedication of the team at Alloy. Thank you for believing in me and for giving me the opportunities of a lifetime. Special thanks to my fiercely intelligent, patient, unflappable editor, Viana Siniscalchi, whose storytelling prowess and clear-eyed vision informed every aspect of this book. Were it not for your encouragement and wisdom, I’d still be stuck on chapter three.
Huge thanks to everyone at LBYR and Hachette UK, especially my editor, Pam Gruber. Working with you has made me a stronger writer, a deeper thinker, and a better editor myself. Thanks to you (and Viana) for pushing me to grow and to elevate this story beyond anything I could’ve imagined. I’m also incredibly lucky to have Siena Koncsol, publicist extraordinaire, in my corner. Your energy, humor, kindness, and publishing savvy have made this adventure even more fun and rewarding. Many thanks to keen-eyed assistant editor Hannah Milton and copy chief Jen Graham for their excellent catches and suggestions.
I’m very grateful to the team at Rights People for giving me the opportunity to share my stories with readers around the world. Thanks to all the talented publishers, editors, translators, and designers responsible for the gorgeous foreign editions of my books. Seeing them is truly a dream come true. And thank you to the publishers who gave me the extraordinary opportunity to meet my international readers: Myrthe Spiteri and Lotte Dijkstra at Blossom Books, and Glenn Tavennec and Fabien LeRoy at Éditions Robert Laffont.
I’m privileged to have wonderful friends and family whose support never wavers, even when deadline stress makes me slightly unpleasant to be around. Thank you for all your encouragement, and for not minding when I disappear for long stretches of time. Extra thanks to my writing group: Laura Bisberg, Michael Bisberg, Laura Jean Ridge, Grace Kendall, Gavin Brown, Nick Eliopulos, and Matt Gline. Your storytelling skills and fire-building talents are wondrous to behold.
Finally, heartfelt thanks to all the readers I’ve met at festivals and online. Your kindness and enthusiasm have been the most rewarding part of this journey.
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