by T. M. Catron
He gestured expansively with his hand. “To hear you accept my offer of marriage. But you know that. What’s bothering you, Devri? You always used to seem so pleasant.”
Devri’s nostrils flared, and she sat forward to the edge of her seat. Harrison leaned forward too, a grin on his face.
“Why did you send the offer to my father?”
Harrison allowed a pained look to cross his features. “I thought that was obvious. I’ve always admired you. And you’re the daughter of Davos, the second most powerful man on Xanthes.”
“You haven’t always admired me. You’ve barely looked at me.”
Harrison frowned. “Really, I have. I just never said anything because...” As if a mask had slipped, a look of uncertainty crossed his face for the first time. “Because you always made me nervous.”
As he spoke, Devri’s ZOD lens in her eye scanned his heart rate, perspiration, and eye movements. It then sent the data to the NNR implanted at the top of her spine. According to the analysis, he was telling the truth.
That didn’t make her feel any better.
Devri growled in anger and rose.
Harrison stood too, and held up his hands to placate her. “Really. You’re impressive, Devri. I’d planned on saying something for a long time. Now you’re out of the Academy, maybe we can be friends.”
“Friends? Last I checked, a Founders’ Marriage was more than an offer of friendship.”
“But it’s the basis for one. Look, we both need to get married. Why not to each other?”
Devri longed to massage the knots in her shoulders and neck. The headache was growing worse, like someone had installed a horn inside her skull and was blowing it out of tune. Even her eyeballs hurt. She sighed.
Scenting victory, Harrison moved closer. “I’ll buy you a ship, Devri, whichever one you want. Think of it. Your own ship, and you can fly it yourself or hire as many pilots as you choose. If our Houses join, we’ll have the Empire at our fingertips.”
The image of the bronze ship rose in Devri’s mind, and for a moment she wondered what it would really be like to fly it. All by herself—to the glass domes and lush forests of Barton, or the urban jungle of Triton.
“And maybe if we’re married,” Harrison said in a low voice, “you can fly me somewhere, just the two of us.”
But no matter how hard she tried, Devri could not imagine Harrison beside her in the cockpit, learning to navigate. Or in the tight confines of a space cruiser. Sharing quarters with him. Eating with him. Sleeping with him.
Devri shuddered.
“No,” she said.
Harrison’s face grew red. “You don’t have a choice in this. The only choice you do have is to be happy and take your place in Xanthes society.”
“I keep hearing those words: Xanthes society. But it means nothing to me. Do you realize that on other planets everyone gets to choose whom they marry? Only on Xanthes do we keep up the barbaric practices for the sake of society. Well, I don’t want to play.”
“Do you know the penalty for refusing a Founders’ Marriage?” Harrison asked, reaching around Devri to pour himself another glass of wine. He offered her one, but she declined.
“Prison?” she asked, joking.
He nodded. “Yep. Prison. And they’ll throw you in there until you agree to get married.”
What? Devri had never heard that.
“You’re joking,” she said.
“Not joking. They might throw me in there too. Make us get married while we’re there. Then there’s no backing out.”
If the idea hadn’t been so ludicrous, Devri wouldn’t have believed him. But it was ludicrous, and therefore exactly the sort of the thing the original Founders would have decreed.
Harrison pressed forward, his warm, sweaty palm touching her arm. “The deal’s already signed, Devri. Make the best of it.”
Then, he strained up as if he meant to kiss her. Devri tore away, whirled back, and jabbed a finger in his chest—hard. He stepped back, surprise and confusion on his face.
“Are you that delusional, Harrison? I will never marry you! Now get out of my house!” The shouting sent shooting pain through the top of her head, but she didn’t care.
Harrison turned as red as his sandals. “Like it or not, Devri, our families want an alliance. And that’s what they will get!”
And with that, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the chamber.
***
Devri walked down a narrow side street at the bottom of the hill. She’d abandoned her fine clothes for a gray flight suit. Her hair was braided and worn up to discourage anyone from recognizing her.
Brightly colored buildings shaped like boxes were stacked on top of one another. Someone had once told Devri that the houses imitated ancient shipping containers from Old Earth. She didn’t understand what Earth would have done with such clunky, low-tech boxes. But it was only a rumor, and Devri doubted it was true.
Taking advantage of a lull in the recent sandstorms, she walked her favorite path through the familiar neighborhoods. As a child, she’d wished she lived on these streets, playing with the other children, saying hello to neighbors as they passed.
As an adult, she envied their simple lives. Even the miners, ill-treated and overworked, were allowed to come and go as they pleased, fall in love as they pleased, and marry—or not marry—whom they pleased.
Devri had hoped her treatment of Harrison a few days ago would have driven him off. Surprisingly, he’d said nothing about it to her father, and the wedding plans continued without interruption. The official announcement was to take place in four days, at Devri’s graduation ball.
A bitter taste rose in her mouth at the thought of the ball. A few days ago, all she’d thought of was how proud she’d make her family. How hard she’d worked and fought to achieve the recognition that had nothing to do with her status. When Devri was flying a ship, she was on an equal level with everyone else, noble and commoner alike. She longed for that feeling again, but the closer she got to the ball, the cheaper her victory felt.
All she’d wanted was to do something for herself. Pleasing her father was a bonus, but one she’d been just as proud of. Now he wasn’t worthy of it. Her anger had morphed in recent days, from powerless and flailing into a driving force that was sending Devri in a direction that scared and excited her at the same time.
By now, she had the courage to leave, and the desperation to run away. But unless she had a very fast ship, it would be a short run. Her feet carried her to the docks without a conscious decision on her part.
The ship was still there, shining in all its glory in the weak, hazy sunlight. And it called to her from across the landing pad. Devri stopped at the barrier and allowed herself to daydream about flying it to the stars. It had the best hyperdrive available on a civilian ship—twin thrusters designed for efficiency and general awesomeness.
If Devri married Harrison, she could buy it. It could be a wedding present—at her insistence. Then she’d fly away and never return.
Devri imagined it streaking away from Xanthes, leaving a trail of confusion all the way to the stars. She laughed at herself because if she didn’t laugh, she’d cry. The ship was beautiful, but not that beautiful.
Looking around to see if anyone had noticed her, Devri hopped over the low barricade and strode for the ship. She wanted to walk around it. To touch it and feel its sleek lines beneath her fingertips. She’d just stretched her hand toward it when a man yelled from somewhere to her right.
“Hey! Get away!”
Devri turned, cheeks glowing red at being caught. The same burly, dark-haired man jogged toward her. She stepped away from the ship.
“Sorry!” she called. “I wasn’t going to hurt anything.”
The man puffed toward her. When he saw she wasn’t going to cause trouble, he slowed to a walk. At the ship, he looked it over, just in case Devri had done something to it. Then he wiped his hands on his tunic and addressed her.
“Aye,
she is beautiful,” he said in a thick accent. “Run along, now.”
“Is she still for sale?”
“Yes. But I doubt the likes of you could afford her. Built for speed and luxury, she is. A hefty price tag, for a hefty nobleman.”
Devri felt heat rise in her cheeks, but since she was unwilling to reveal her true identity, she stalked off the landing pad without another word to the surly man.
With nowhere left to kill time, she wound her way through the streets, taking the long way home. Wind whipped her face, sending stray grains of sand into her eyes. Wishing she had her mask, she squinted and protected her face with a hand instead.
Lost in thought, she passed right by Harrison before she saw him. With her flight suit, braided hair, and hand covering half her face, he didn’t recognize her. Devri paused and turned, watching him skirt others in the street and head down a narrow alleyway. Intrigued, she followed.
The alley passed between two larger buildings, both of which housed the taverns Harrison liked to frequent. There were still enough people that she didn’t worry about him spotting her. He’d have to turn and look right at her. But his stride was purposeful, as if he had somewhere to be at a certain time, so she didn’t worry about being caught.
With a grim smile, Devri thought all she’d have to do to eliminate her problem was to eliminate Harrison. She fantasized about attacking him and leaving him for dead in a back alley.
Then she sighed. Murder wasn’t in her blood. Well, her father’s maybe—she’d had her suspicions—but not hers.
Harrison paused at a black door that was obviously the back entrance to a shady tavern. He knocked three times then looked up and down the street. Devri ducked behind a bread stall. The hiding place was perfect—she could see straight into the building if the door opened.
It cracked open, and a bald head stuck out from the narrow opening. When the man saw Harrison, he opened the door wider. With a shock, Devri recognized the man as the nobleman who had pressured her father into arranging her marriage.
Francivi Aron. What was he doing in the tavern? And why was Harrison asking to be let in?
Maybe it was a secret club. Devri had heard of them but never tried to venture out to one. At the Academy, the other cadets insisted she was missing out on a good time.
But Harrison didn’t enter. Devri held her breath and listened.
“I told you, Harrison,” Aron said, “she doesn’t have a choice. Quit bowing and simpering to the spoiled little maiden and man up. Davos will make her marry you. He has assured me.”
Devri’s blood ran cold. They were talking about her.
Harrison’s voice was pleading. “Lord Aron, I’m sure we can come to some other arrangement. If you just let me tell you some of the ideas I’ve come up with to pay you back—”
“There is no paying me back. You know the terms of the deal. Your Father’s estate belongs to me now. And unless you want him to know about his heir’s clumsy gambling mistakes, I suggest you shut up and marry the woman.”
“You already have enough! Why do you need more?”
Lord Aron grinned the same revolting grin he’d had back at Devri’s house. “Because I always need more. It’s the way the world works. What’s the problem with marrying her? Cold feet?”
Harrison frowned. “She wants nothing to do with me, and despite what you may think, I’d like to marry someone who feels the same way about me.”
“Awww! Poor ickle baby Harrison wants to find love!”
Harrison winced at the rancor in Aron’s voice.
“No,” Harrison mumbled, “I don’t want to be murdered in my sleep.”
Devri smiled despite herself. At least she’d put the fear of the House of Davos into Harrison. Good.
“Well, if you end up murdered in your sleep, Harrison, I’ll make sure you get a proper burial. And maybe your wife will get a going away sum if she plays nice. Good day, sir.”
Aron slammed the door in Harrison’s face, the wind causing the front of his hair to flop up over his forehead. Red-faced, he stormed off in the opposite direction.
Devri waited a moment before leaving the alley. Everything now made sense. Somehow Aron had obtained control of Harrison’s inheritance—and Devri had thought her father would be disappointed in her—and was using it to make more money by marrying Harrison off to the perfect woman. Once done, Aron would control over half of the estates, trade, and mines on Xanthes. He might as well take over the planet.
Maybe that’s what he wanted to do.
For one moment, Devri felt sorry for Harrison. As much as she hated him, she wouldn’t wish that kind of predicament on anyone. But this information was the last straw. To marry someone for power and then find out he had none was the worst kind of nightmare for a noblewoman.
This was her ticket out of the whole thing. She needed to tell her father. Once he found out, he would call off the marriage.
What if he doesn’t believe you?
Devri stopped walking. A person behind her bumped into her, then muttered a curse as he passed.
It was possible Davos would think his daughter was lying. It sounded like one of his own political schemes—simply cast doubt over an arrangement, swoop in for the kill. Devri couldn’t risk it. If she failed to convince him, she wouldn’t have time to come up with something else. He might even lock her in the house as punishment. And then she couldn’t even run away.
Run away.
The idea had nagged her all along. But Devri, however mad she might be at her parents, had hoped for a resolution. But with the ball looming in the next four days, and the wedding the week after, she might as well hope for her dowry to vanish as hope for a miracle.
Her dowry.
Why—oh why—hadn’t she thought of it earlier? And it was all in credits. Greedy money hoarders that they were, the McConnells hadn’t wanted traditional jewels.
With the dowry money alone, Devri had enough money to buy her ship. She almost squealed with delight and jogged down the alley, back out into the street.
Chapter 3
Four days later, Devri stood in her room and looked at her reflection in a large mirror. She’d turned out the lights, pretending to rest for the night’s festivities. Flute music drifted through the wooden shutters from the solarium. Fake moonlight, shining down through the transparent roof outside her door, left a slatted pattern on the rug.
Though Devri was pretending to rest, she was already dressed for her party. A long, silken gown the color of night blue brushed the floor. Tiny diamonds encrusted her face like a mask around her eyes—a symbol of her status and her father’s wealth.
A solitary diamond hung from her neck. When she moved in the moonlight, it twinkled like a star. It was Devri’s favorite piece of jewelry. She would not be taking it with her, however. She would give Davos no reason to accuse her of stealing from him—well, except for the dowry.
Devri reasoned that it was her money anyway. She’d never had an allowance or any kind of money of her own. Davos always provided.
She listened to the tune change from fast and rhythmic to slow and wandering. Just like Devri—a wanderer. She shook the romance from her head. Running away would be anything but romantic. Davos would hunt her, she was certain. And once she bought the ship, she doubted she’d have enough money left to live on. She would need to find an occupation, one where she could stay below the radar.
With one last check in the mirror that everything was in place, Devri walked to her bag on the bed. It was a small satchel containing her flight suit, magnetic boots, and a few personal items.
She closed the bag and slung it over her shoulder. Excitement coursed through her, but it was mixed with sadness and dread. As she left her room for the last time, Devri realized it wasn’t the material things she would miss. What she would miss most was the hopefulness she’d had before her father’s betrayal—the anticipation of the life she could have had and her faith in her family, proud and stubborn as they were.
&nbs
p; That, she could never get back.
Devri dropped the satchel behind a large plant near a side entrance, the one nearest the house’s control room. Then she strolled about the house, making sure the servants saw her in her gown, ready for the party. The ambling tour of the house was as much for Devri’s own benefit as for the servants.
She was saying goodbye.
An hour later, she stepped into the transformed solarium. Golden light twinkled from the arbors and foliage ringing the gallery. In the center of the solarium, the purple fountain glistened with sparkles of gold. It floated through the air around the bowl, landing on the tile mosaic beneath and making it glow. The water reflected the golden lights until everything looked like the constellations had floated down into the solarium.
Servants padded around barefoot, serving drinks and food to the assortment of high society standing around. The flute music changed to something more lively, but no one would dance until Davos had spoken.
The guests were magnificent with elaborate headdresses constructed from every material from metal to diamonds. Long, elegant robes contained colors pulled straight from a nebula. Every woman’s face was painted in heavy, extravagant makeup. But none rivaled Devri’s. She yearned to scratch the diamond frosting off her face, but that would have to wait.
The scene would have been magically beautiful if Devri hadn’t felt so sad about it all.
As soon as she entered, people looked at her. She had taken care with her appearance, making sure she looked the part. But no matter how many people smiled at her, she didn’t smile back.
At her entrance, Davos turned and held out his hand to her. Although he didn’t smile, Devri could see he was pleased she had shown up in full array.
She grasped his hand, but there was no warmth in the gesture. He gripped hers and pulled her close. “You’ve made me very proud, Daughter,” he whispered.
Fearing she would betray herself, Devri nodded and gave him a half smile. Since her father rarely smiled himself, he thought nothing of it. Then he turned them both toward the room and paused. A hush whispered around the room as every nobleman and noblewoman turned to hear his speech.
