Brightly Burning

by Alexa Donne

  “You are stupidly bold, Stella Ainsley,” Preity said to me as we left Griegs behind to bear the job of food service. Lizzy ran off to do whatever it was she did after dinner, but Preity hung back with me. We made our way slowly toward my quarters. “I would say you were a role model, but the Ingrams would vent me into space if I conducted myself as you do.”

  “They sound awful,” I said, but Preity only shrugged.

  “It’s a nice ship and a good life. They’re strict about protocols but otherwise undemanding. We have plenty to eat; we’re allowed to do as we please on our own free time. Of all the transfers I could have gotten, I’m happy with it.”

  “You were a transfer? From where?”

  “The Empire. I transferred out as part of the orphan program six years ago.”

  “Oh. Me too.” I couldn’t believe it. The fleet wasn’t huge, but who would have thought it could be this small? “How did we not know each other from the Empire? Wait, did you know George Davies?”

  The light of recognition lit behind her eyes. “Ginger bloke?”

  “Yes! He ended up with me on the Stalwart.”

  “Wow. How is he?”

  I said the first thing that came to my mind. “Hot. But, you know, in an annoying kind of way.”

  Preity simply laughed. “Yeah, he was annoying on his best days when we were kids. But I could see him going the way of seriously attractive. What part of the ship were you in? Maybe that’s why we never crossed paths.”

  “Engineering,” I said.

  “My family was in textiles, like George’s. That explains it, then.”

  “This is me.” I indicated my door.

  “Oooh, can I see?”

  I gave Preity a tour of my humble abode, watching her eyes become saucers as she took a turn of the room. “No wonder you like it here. This is orbital.” A reply was halfway out of my mouth when Preity went still and began talking to herself. Then I realized she was receiving a message on comms.

  “Roger that; I will be there in five,” she said. Then she turned to me with a grim look. “The Ingram has arrived.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  I did the sensible, mature thing and hid in my room for the rest of the night. No one hailed me to go help with bags, and I was hardly going to volunteer. I was in no mood or shape to play purser. I needed a full night’s sleep and a long, hot shower before I discovered what kind of captain had returned to the ship.

  Regardless, I spent the better part of forty minutes with an ear pressed against the door as our new passengers moved into their quarters. I heard a laugh, which sped up my heartbeat threefold, but this was a light, tinkling laugh. The laugh of a woman who was trying to impress a man. Was it for Hugo? Or a man of her own party? I pushed my body harder against the door, but the laughter and the chatter only seemed to drift farther away.

  Eventually I gave up, treating myself to a steamy shower, then distracted myself with a vampire book until I was groggy enough for sleep.

  Morning came too soon, dread weighing down my limbs as I pulled myself through my a.m. rituals. I chose a simple black overdress and made my bun particularly neat, carrying them out with me into the greater ship like armor. Immediately, I sensed a shift; the atmosphere of the ship was different. Busy. Full. Chatter echoed from an adjacent corridor, the hum of humans replacing that of circulating air, buzzing machinery. I ran into Lizzy and Preity on my way to the dining quarters, where we were met by Xiao.

  “Good; you’re all prompt. A great start to our new schedule. Junior staff eats breakfast at seven, senior staff at eight, and then civilians and the captain at nine. Ingram staff, I take it you’re aware of your duties beyond breakfast?”

  The girls nodded and went into the dining room, but Xiao grabbed my arm, holding me back. “Stella, I may be out of pocket while the Ingrams are here, but if you need me, I’m here for you.” She then lowered her voice just above a whisper. “And, well. I hate to say this, but the Ingrams are accustomed to a very different ship and crew dynamic, so it would be best if you were . . . seen and not heard while they are here.”

  I had figured out as much from interacting with their crew, and had already resolved to be seen as little as possible myself, let alone heard. Xiao apparently wasn’t done, though she seemed to be trying to find her words. She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow.

  “You also may find that the captain is . . . different with the Ingrams on board. Just don’t take it too much to heart, and take care of yourself.” She patted me on the arm and went off in the direction of the bridge.

  Xiao’s words did little to quell my mounting anxiety. As the day progressed, I started to suspect the new schedule was designed to keep me and Hugo apart. I was officially “junior staff” now, and my duty was to mind Jessa, who was even more cut off than I was.

  “He’s been back a whole day and hasn’t come to see me.” Jessa pushed away her plate with a huff. I would now join her for dinner in her quarters, as the Ingram party was to monopolize the dining room each evening from now on.

  “I’m sure he’s just sleeping off some jet lag,” I said, picking at my chicken with a fork. Not even the return of meat to the menu could buoy my spirits. I was distracted by nerves.

  “Sure,” Jessa grumbled. “Or he’s spending all his time with Bianca, like he used to.”

  My comms pinged in my ear. Incoming message from Officer Xiao. “Stella, the captain requests that you dress Jessa in something appropriate for company and bring her to the drawing room.”

  “Roger that,” I said with a sigh. I’d barely managed twenty-four hours avoiding him. But at least I had Jessa to hide behind. Dinner had involved a red sauce, which she’d somehow managed to get in her hair. I ordered her into the shower while I picked out one of her nicer overdresses, which, unlike mine, came in a variety of vibrant colors—​saffron, lilac, azure. I chose the lilac, to which Jessa wrinkled her nose.

  “I want to wear pants. And a black top. Like you do.”

  I ordered her to lift her arms so I could pull the pinafore wrap over her underlayer. “Nice try, but I wear dresses every day.”

  “Why is that? Pants are more comfortable.”

  “And dresses are more comfortable to me,” I said. “You should be able to wear what you like, I agree.” Jessa opened her mouth to reinvigorate her argument, but I stopped her in her tracks. “But. Some people have certain ideas about what girls should wear, so that means a dress in a pretty color.”

  “My brother doesn’t care what I wear.”

  “But the Ingrams do, and your brother cares about them.”

  I’d been through this pageantry aboard the Empire, where girls were expected to adorn themselves as best they could like beautiful flowers. Impractical accoutrements such as lace, gauzy overlayers, and even silk abounded in the fashions of the finer ships in the fleet. I preferred dark colors and the more practical fabrics, even as a child. My aunt had been more than happy to oblige me, as vibrant colors were the domain of only those with money and resources, and she didn’t wish to waste any on me.

  Jessa pouted but allowed me to dress her: the price she had to pay to see Hugo. I checked myself in the mirror. Same old—​plain face and hair that threatened to escape my bun, which I smoothed back. The stiff bodice of my overdress caused strain in my back but gave me the clean lines and unassuming airs I desired. To blend into the background of the party was my aim. To hide.

  We found the drawing room easily enough by following the tinkling of glasses, the raucous laughter of a large party, which you could hear from the bridge. We followed the noise to the third bulkhead down from the dining quarters to find several people spilling into the corridor, some precariously holding glasses whose contents sloshed over the sides as they moved. They must have started drinking with dinner.

  The drawing room boasted a collection of fine couches, chairs, and tables, plus Hugo’s promised pianoforte. You couldn’t miss Hugo, who was the center of attention as he sat in an armchair surrou
nded by a trifecta of couches filled to the brim with ladies. I found myself pulled along behind Jessa, who eagerly charged inside and headed straight for him. As usual, she launched herself at her brother, shouting his name, and while he hugged her, he did so more stiffly than I had ever seen him do. A sea of judgmental eyes turned on the reuniting siblings; I watched them as they watched, passing my own sort of judgment in kind.

  The overwhelming theme of the party was blond and haughty. Everyone was painfully overdressed in evening gowns of taffeta and silk and horribly impractical high-heeled shoes, which poked out from underneath their gowns. I skimmed them, identifying the likely culprit of the captain’s wife—​in her forties, straw-colored hair piled high on her head, culminating in a tiara. Only a captain’s wife would be so stupidly audacious. And to her right and left were two young facsimiles, their golden hair tumbling down their backs freely over elegantly boned bodices of magenta and royal blue. No one had to tell me that the more beautiful of the two​—her features more delicate, her hair that much glossier​—was Bianca. I could tell from her primary position closest to Hugo, and the way she leaned toward him with purpose. She lit up the room like a star.

  “My, she’s only grown more precious with time, hasn’t she?” Bianca said of Jessa, her lips set in a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. I could see Jessa in profile, and her expression echoed my thoughts exactly: what kind of pandering orbit junk was this?

  “Do you remember me?” Jessa shook her head no. “Well, you were only four last time I saw you, so I’m not surprised.” Bianca sat back on the lounge, her direct attention for Jessa having ebbed; now she regaled her audience like the headliner that she was. “You know, we used to think she might be a bit slow! She didn’t talk until she was nearly four, and even then could barely string sentences together.”

  I saw Jessa flinch, caught the tightening of Hugo’s jaw—​the first time I’d allowed myself to look at him since entering the room—​and was spurred into action before I could think.

  “Jessa is quite bright, actually.” I stepped forward into the light and saw the way the party peered at me with genuine surprise. They’d not seen me until now, though I’d been standing not even five feet behind Jessa the whole time. “She excels in all her subjects, including but certainly not limited to extemporaneous speech and debate.” Or, at least, she would as soon as I started teaching her in those subjects, which I resolved to do starting the next day, just to show Bianca Ingram.

  “Now, who is this bold creature?” Bianca said, that forced smile back on her face, her outrage leaking through in the way she spat the word “bold” like it was a curse.

  “This is Stella Ainsley, our new governess,” Hugo said, his voice like an electric current running through me. He acknowledged me, our eyes met, there was the briefest spark—​of happiness to see me, of pride—​but in a second it was gone, and everything that followed served to convince me I’d imagined the moment, a trick of the light and shadows. “She comes to us from the Stalwart.”

  “Ugh, a governess.” Bianca moaned with exaggerated force. “I think we can all agree that governesses are the absolute worst. Lucy and I used to play the most delightful tricks on ours. She’d squawk bloody murder at us, and we’d just laugh ourselves silly.”

  Lucy, the blond doily in magenta, tittered in agreement. “But this one is so much younger than ours were. How old are you?”

  “Seventeen,” I responded.

  “Just seventeen and from the Stalwart to boot,” Bianca scoffed. “She can hardly be qualified to teach, Hugo. I heard they teach only farming aboard that old bucket.”

  “I was raised and educated aboard the Empire,” I defended myself, feeling my whole body go hot from both adrenaline and embarrassment. All eyes were on me, including Hugo’s, whose expression was unreadable. “And I’m well qualified to teach Jessa in a variety of subjects, including literature, history, mathematics, science, and art.”

  “No foreign language?” That was Bianca’s mother, voice dripping with condescension. “It would be such a shame for Jessa to miss out on a good, classical education. French, German, music. We can recommend someone if you like.” She addressed Hugo like I wasn’t even there. I realized they were all doing it—​speaking about me, and Jessa for that matter, in the third person. We were conversation pieces, not people.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Hugo said. “Xiao has been teaching her Mandarin, and I can relay passable French and music instruction.”

  “Oh, yes, I had nearly forgotten!” Bianca leaned forward, running her fingers over Hugo’s arm. “You were always my piano man. Shall we again, for old times’ sake?”

  Jessa and I were promptly forgotten as Hugo and Bianca got up to put on a show, so I found an empty love seat by the door for us.

  “I don’t like him with these people,” Jessa muttered to me as the chords of an old fleet anthem rose above the din.

  I had to agree, but for Jessa’s sake, I made excuses. “I’m sure he’ll be back to himself in a day or so. I could tell he was really excited to see you.” Jessa tossed me a skeptical look but didn’t argue. We both turned to watch the performance. Hugo’s playing was passable but unpracticed, the opposite of Bianca’s song. Her talent was annoyingly superior—​tone clear as a bell chime, each note strong and unwavering. I’d bet my tablet she practiced every day, likely after years of learning from masters.

  “I do remember that Bianca lady,” Jessa whispered to me. “I didn’t like her. That’s why I didn’t talk to her.”

  “You’re a smart girl.” We shared a conspiratorial smile. Then we sat through two more songs from Bianca, three moderately less enjoyable attempts from Lucy, through which at least Hugo demonstrated some improvement on the keys. I hated that he played for them but had never played for me, like he’d promised. But then I shook the thought away. We’d had our dreaded reunion, and it was basically a big fat nothing. I tapped my comm piece and asked Rori for the time, and she confirmed my suspicions.

  “It’s past your bedtime,” I informed Jessa, who, as if on cue, yawned.

  We slipped out as another young woman, a cousin, I guessed, sat down to the piano and I saw Bianca pull Hugo into a dance. It was usually not my role to put Jessa to bed, but I had no desire to disturb Orion or Xiao. I talked her out of watching a movie, got her into her sleep clothes, and made sure she was in bed with the lights out before retreating upstairs to my own quarters. I was nearly there, counting the steps until I could sleep, when my comms buzzed.

  “Captain Hugo Fairfax calling,” Rori announced in my ear. I nearly tripped over my own feet. Why would he be calling me? Hugo had never used comms to hail me the whole time I’d been here. With a shaky voice, I accepted the connection.

  “Hello?”

  “Stella, why did you leave?” a brusque voice demanded.

  “I had to put Jessa to bed.”

  “Oh,” he said as if the thought never occurred to him. “Well, then, come back if you’re done. I want you here.”

  “I’m quite tired.”

  “Nonsense,” he insisted. “The night is young. I’ll see you in five minutes.”

  The captain had given me a direct order, so back to the drawing room I trudged. I sat myself quietly in my love seat again, observing how the mood of the room had shifted since I’d left. The whole party was at least four or five drinks in, and Hugo was finally getting to play his precious poker. I found him holding court at a round table, half his face hidden behind a spread of cards. Bianca and several people I didn’t have names for yet were playing along. No Poole or Hanada.

  Whisper-soft, Lizzy ducked in through the door and took a seat next to me. “I’m here to collect the missus when the time comes,” she informed me, indicating Mrs. Ingram, whose face was now bright red, her tiara half-slid down her head. I pointed her toward the poker table.

  “Who is everyone? Other than Bianca. I’ve already met her.”

  “She’s a peach, right?” Lizzy’s
grin was wicked. “Next to her is her older brother, Braxton, who likes to put his hands in all sorts of interesting places, so watch yourself. And over there”—​she pointed to a sour-faced young woman with an unfortunate snub nose watching the poker game from the sidelines—​“is his wife, Justine. She came to us from the Versailles, speaks mostly French, and the captain and Mrs. Ingram are quite put out that after nearly two years of marriage, she’s not yet produced an heir.

  “The mousy brunette is cousin Cecily, who has nothing much to recommend her except that she’s always game for a round of poker, and next to her is the captain himself.”

  I looked him over and found a man who matched his wife in his audacity. Taking the captain title rather literally, he was dressed in Old-World naval attire, complete with gold aiguillette and cap. “Did he think this was a costume party?”

  “Good one, Stella!”

  Only I hadn’t been joking. Lizzy continued to give me the gossip I didn’t ask for. “The captain has spoiled his precious children rotten at the expense of his ship, and so here we are, throwing ourselves at the Fairfaxes.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You didn’t know? I thought the Rochester crew was all cozy. Guess not. Captain Ingram is here to discuss a merger with Captain Fairfax. Combine ship crews and resources so we can stay in space a bit longer. The Ingram’s on its last legs, though they’d never admit it.”

  “Does Captain Fairfax know?” I asked, watching the poker game with renewed interest, especially noting the way Captain Ingram deferred to Hugo—​I was sure he was letting him win—​and how Bianca batted her eyelashes just so.

  “Of course,” Lizzy said. “They’ve been going back and forth on it for years. But they wanted to wait until Bianca was older, and just between you and me, Captain Ingram has been taking meetings with several other ships in the hopes of finding a less . . . risky match.”

  She leaned close, practically whispering in my ear. “Rumors are that he spends most of his time drunk, gambling away favors, and partaking of the company of various men and women on the pleasure cruisers. And then there’s what they say about the family curse.” Lizzy dangled her gossip like fruit, pausing a moment, clearly expecting me to urge her on. I did not, and she continued, regardless. “His mother wasn’t well at the end, and everyone wonders whether it may be genetic. But Bianca’s rejected everyone else. Too old, too ugly, the ship wasn’t nice enough. So here we are, in the middle of nowhere with Captain Crazy.”