The Lily and the Crown

by Roslyn Sinclair

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  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank the brave souls who helped me whip this story into shape: my fabulous content editor, Lee Winter, who got this started and then kept me going, and my copy editor, Amanda Jean, who stopped my commas in their tracks. And, last but not least, Charlotte. She knows why.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  About Roslyn Sinclair

  Other Books from Ylva Publishing

  Coming from Ylva Publishing

  CHAPTER 1

  Ariana Geiker was delighted with how Barmensis nobu was coming along. Her petals were brilliant, lustrous, and evenly shaped; her leaves a full, flourishing, healthy green. She’d come a long way from being the skinny, scraggly, little thing she’d been when Ari had acquired her.

  Should Ari put her away? No. No, she’d leave her on the table. Doctor Phylyxas was bound to see her when he arrived to inspect Ari’s collection, and while Barmensis might just be a simple little plant, Ari was proud of her.

  Dr. Phylyxas’s latest book had said that oftentimes the simplest victories were the most rewarding, at least on an everyday basis. Sure, it was immensely satisfying to keep up an enormous garden, discover new plant species, all that, but what did you wind up seeing the most, day in and day out? The flower on your kitchen table. So, you might as well do a good job tending to it. Ari hoped Dr. Phylyxas would notice Barmensis and would realize she’d taken his lessons to heart. Coming face-to-face with her idol was more nerve-racking than she’d ever thought it would be.

  It really was very kind of him to come—the Senior Royal Botanist. Ari’s father might be the most important official in this sector, but surely Dr. Phylyxas had many urgent demands on his time. They were opening a whole new wing of the Imperial Arboretum on Homeworld in less than a month. It was to be the most impressive wing yet. Ari thought it might be nice to see it someday.

  Not, she had to admit dolefully, that this seemed likely in the immediate future, with all the pirates marauding around. It had been a huge relief to learn that Dr. Phylyxas’s ship had landed safely in the space station’s hangar bay a few minutes ago.

  She looked again at Barmensis. Yes, that was good, but something was missing. She’d meant to put out something else. What had it been—oh! Thank goodness she’d remembered it just in time.

  Ari hurried out of her kitchen and back into her living room. Maybe calling it a “living room” was pushing it—as the stationmaster’s only daughter, she had been given quarters with more room than one person could possibly need. She’d been delighted anyway, because surely it was a sign that her father must care for her, if he’d arranged for her to have rooms that accommodated her…unusual requirements. Specifically, her requirement to maintain an enormous, flourishing garden, including trees, in the dead of space. He’d never told her how he’d managed it, but then, he never told her a lot of things.

  Anyway, she’d have to remember not to call it her “living room” when Dr. Phylyxas finally arrived. Although, he might think it was an endearing quirk; if anybody could understand how she did, in fact, live with her plants, it must be the Senior Royal Botanist.

  Ari rushed through her garden toward her goal, brushing aside various leaves and branches as she went. On fleet feet, she reached her shelves and peered at her dozens of specimen jars. “A woman does not live by plants alone,” she muttered. Then she smiled to herself. Maybe that’d be an okay joke to trot out for Dr. Phylyxas?

  Yeah, maybe. She had to pick a specimen first, to show him that she was about more than flowers and shrubs. Yes, Cranli might do. The praying mantis waved his front legs as she took down the jar, no doubt eager to get back to his favorite plant. Well, he and Mustopher illis would have to endure their separation for a few hours longer.

  “I’m just going to show you to a very important gentleman,” Ari said soothingly to him. “You’re such a pretty little guy. And you do such incredible work in the garden.” Cranli did not look appeased. Then again, Ari supposed it was hard to tell with a praying mantis.

  Maybe she should take a few deep breaths. It was obvious that her nerves were making her act even weirder than usual. Come on. Get out of your shell for once in your life. When is this going to happen again?

  Okay, that thought wasn’t very soothing. Deep breaths were a better idea.

  Just then, she heard the bleep that announced someone requesting entry to her quarters. Without further ado, the door to her suite hissed open. Ari gasped and almost fumbled the jar. He was here already? That was fast. Too fast. Was she really prepared for this?

  Then she heard the voice of a sentry saying—jeeringly!—“All right, you. In you go. Enjoy yourself.”

  Ari’s jaw dropped. Was that any way to talk to the Senior Royal Botanist? Gripping her jar, she hurried back through the trees, vowing to have a very stern word with the sentry. But then the door hissed shut again, and Ari realized she was too late. She winced and emerged past the last tall bush that separated her from her kitchen and living area.

  Then she blinked in surprise. Apparently, someone had…misinformed her about Dr. Phylyxas.

  For one thing, he was a she. For another, she looked nothing like Ari had always imagined a Senior Royal Botanist would look. Not that she’d ever really thought about it. If she had, she guessed she would have imagined a portly, balding man with holo-spectacles, wearing tweedy robes.

  But apparently Dr. Phylyxas was a tall, regal-looking female, her short black hair going silver at the temples, matched by a silver forelock. She appeared to be about Ari’s own height, though her bare arms were far more muscled.

  She was looking around Ari’s quarters with an expression that was two parts wary and one part disgusted. She was no doubt horrified by the sentry’s behavior in welcoming her.

  “Oh, gosh,” Ari said, and Dr. Phylyxas nearly jumped as she turned to regard Ari with wide eyes. “I am so sorry,” Ari added, clutching Cranli’s jar to her chest.

  The woman looked at it briefly before her gaze flickered back to Ari’s face. Her own sharp-featured face was closed, cold, reserved. The look in her eyes made Ari quake in her shoes.

  Ari’s feeling had to be fear, right? Intimidation? How odd—it didn’t seem like any fear Ari had ever experienced before. More like an electric shock that was making her fingers and her toes tingle.

  This wasn’t the time to figure it out. “I-I’ll speak to that sentry,” Ari said. “I can’t believe he was so rude to you.”

  Now Dr. Phylyxas looked surprised. “You can’t?”

  Ari frowned. Had their outpost gotten a bad reputation for hospitality somewhere? She hoped not. It would be dreadful if Dr. Phylyxas had come all the way here expecting to be treated that way.

  “Um,” she said hesitantly, “w-won’t you sit down?” She gestured toward the kitchen table. The sight of Barmensis nobu quickly revived her, and she beamed at Dr. Phylyxas. “I hope you’ll like it.” She pointed at the plant. “It took me a long time to perk her up, but I’ve been working hard at it.”

  Dr. Phylyxas looked at her, and th
en at the plant, with an utterly blank expression on her face.

  Ari gulped and then gasped. Bad hospitality, indeed. She set down Cranli’s jar on the kitchen table. Dr. Phylyxas looked at that, too.

  “I’m so sorry,” she repeated. “I… Do you want something to drink? I’ve got coffee. And tea.”

  “Do I…” Dr. Phylyxas shook her head quickly. It really was an elegant head. She was, in fact, an exceedingly elegant woman, even though she was dressed a little…simply…for a royal official, in a plain white tunic that looked remarkably like what servants and slaves wore. Then again, it wasn’t at all practical for a botanist to wear fine clothing—you spent so much time mucking around in the dirt and getting scratched by branches and thorns.

  Maybe Dr. Phylyxas had come to Ari’s quarters in readiness to do actual work. The thought made Ari’s breath catch in anticipation.

  “Coffee,” Dr. Phylyxas said, seating herself at Ari’s kitchen table and giving Ari another, even warier look.

  Well, that was sort of weird. “I-I grow and roast the beans myself,” Ari offered. “The coffee beans. And the tea.” She smiled again. “It’s much better than what you’d get in the mess hall. I mean, if I do say so myself.”

  “Oh.” Dr. Phylyxas looked back and forth between Ari and Barmensis as if she had no idea where she was. “Well. That’s…” She looked Ari up and down, taking in Ari’s dress which, Ari was only now realizing, was covered in dirt.

  She felt her face turning its most brilliant red and gave a feeble laugh as she brushed down her skirt with one hand. “I guess I don’t look very formal right now,” she said. “I mean…not that I ever do, really…”

  “I’m getting that impression,” Dr. Phylyxas said.

  “Well,” Ari said helplessly, “I’ve been so excited about your visit, so I’ve been working all morning, trying to get everything—”

  “My visit?” Dr. Phylyxas looked astonished.

  Ari stared at her. Then Dr. Phylyxas added, “I think you’ve mistaken me for somebody else.”

  “Huh? You…” Ari blinked. “You’re not Dr. Phylyxas?”

  “I’m afraid not,” not-Dr.-Phylyxas said, resting her elbows on the table and crossing her ankles, looking almost amused.

  “Oh, no.” Ari gasped, knowing that she was even redder now. “I’m so—you must have thought… I’ll go get your coffee.” Face burning, she plunged back into her garden, cutting branches from Coffea maliksika with a trembling hand. Then, when she had the red beans in her hand, something occurred to her.

  She poked her head back into the kitchen, where not-Dr.-Phylyxas was still sitting at the table, ankles still crossed, but looking positively boggled now.

  “Excuse me,” Ari said, “but who are you, then?”

  The woman began to say something, but just then the door chime beeped again. The woman darted a swift, wary glance at the door. Ari had just enough time to see her posture grow stiff before it opened.

  This time, a portly, well-dressed man entered, followed by a sentry. The portly man looked exactly as Ari had expected him to look, right down to the holo-spectacles. He blinked at the sight of Ari standing in the middle of her kitchen with a coffee branch in her hand, and then looked down at the woman seated at the table.

  “My goodness, Your Ladyship,” he said to the woman at the table. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Ah, please don’t get up.”

  “All right,” the woman said, and indeed made no move to do so.

  “Um,” Ari said.

  “I have to admit, I thought you were younger,” Dr. Phylyxas added.

  “My God,” the woman said. “It’s like watching a farce.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Dr. Phylyxas said.

  “Excuse me,” Ari blurted, “but I’m Lady Ariana. Not her.”

  “I should say not,” snapped the sentry, and both Ari and Dr. Phylyxas startled. He was scowling at the woman at the table. “Get on your feet in front of your mistress or we’ll whip your back to ribbons and be happy to do it.”

  “I wondered when we’d get to that,” the woman said and rose gracefully.

  “I don’t…” Ari looked back and forth between all of them. What had happened to the quiet, scholarly morning she’d hoped for? “I’m sorry, but what…who’s…”

  The sentry gestured in disgust at the woman. “She’s Your Ladyship’s new slave.”

  Ari stared at him. “My what?”

  Now the sentry looked surprised, too. “Did Your Ladyship not receive the message your father sent this morning?”

  Ari’s gaze immediately went to the intercom panel by the door. Sure enough, a red light was blinking, signaling that someone had tried to contact her. As usual, she’d been off doing something else, either inspecting the garden or perhaps getting dressed before going out and messing up her clothes again. She hadn’t heard the beep of the intercom—it was a lot quieter than the door chime.

  And it had been her father. Her face heated. She’d missed a message from her father, and he didn’t try to contact her often.

  Focus. She dragged her mind back to the present. “No, I didn’t get the message.”

  “She was captured off a pirate rig last night,” the sentry explained. “Tiny little scouter. All killed but her—their serving-woman. And now she’s your serving-woman, courtesy of your father.” He glared at the woman. “Too stupid to know she’s a lot better off now, if you ask me.”

  Ari looked at the woman whom the sentry had just called stupid. That assessment seemed a little off, to say the least. Impassive would have been a better word. Maybe even a little bored, as if she couldn’t believe she was wasting her time like this. She certainly didn’t seem to care about the sentry’s poor opinion of her.

  But Ari did. Ari cared about this whole situation a lot. “I don’t want a slave!” she said, horrified. “I mean…I don’t need—”

  “Well, they can come in handy,” Dr. Phylyxas said. Ari turned to look at him in astonishment. He nodded toward the slave woman and shrugged, like this was no big deal to him. “Fetching and carrying and whatnot. I have four to help me maintain my personal garden alone. You’ll be amazed how much easier everything is.”

  That seemed doubtful. Ari was used to doing just fine all on her own. She looked helplessly at the woman. “Um. Which pirates?”

  “Had the sign of the lily on the side of the scouter,” the sentry said, sounding downright gleeful. “Mír’s own private fleet.”

  Dr. Phylyxas raised his eyebrows, finally seeming impressed by something. “You don’t say?”

  Ari couldn’t be nearly so cool about it. She almost dropped the coffee plant. “Mír?”

  “Yes, Your Ladyship. Only a scouter, mind you. Seems like it had gotten into some trouble—it was sending out a distress signal on a frequency only the pirates are supposed to know. But your lord father’s on top of things, isn’t he?” The sentry glared at the woman. “Bet your former mistress won’t be happy about that.”

  “I should say not,” the woman replied.

  “Oh, my goodness,” Ari said weakly. The idea made her shudder, that a ship, even a tiny scouting vessel, from Mír’s fleet had come that close to their station. Everyone knew the queen of all the pirates had no mercy and no shame.

  “It’s all right, Your Ladyship.” Dr. Phylyxas laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. This place seems quite well-fortified.”

  “Nobody’s getting in here, Your Ladyship.” The sentry glared at the woman. “As your former masters have discovered.”

  “To their cost,” the woman said, her voice mild, but with something much harder to decipher in her eyes.

  “Well.” Ari laughed awkwardly. “Let’s not… I mean—”

  “Indeed, indeed,” Dr. Phylyxas said heartily. “Let’s not trouble our heads about all that now. I’ve come here to see your garden.”

  “Oh!” Ari had nearly forgotten in all the excitement. “Yes! Thanks,” she added to the sen
try. “That’ll be all. Oh, wait.” She frowned at him. “Were you the one who showed her in here?” She tilted her head toward the woman.

  “Yes, Your Ladyship.”

  “Then I think you ought to apologize,” Ari said.

  All three of them stared at her.

  Ari squirmed under the scrutiny. This was important, though. “If she’s a slave you rescued from a pirate ship, then she’s obviously had a very hard time of it. There was no need for you to be so rude.” She raised her hand to wag her finger for emphasis and realized she was still holding a coffee branch with it.

  Both the sentry and the woman looked at Ari as if she’d grown another head, but the sentry turned to the woman anyway. “I’m so very sorry,” he said, dragging out each syllable for the maximum possible sarcasm. “My lady.”

  A smile played around the woman’s lips. “Apology accepted,” she said sweetly.

  The sentry scowled at her and left.

  Dr. Phylyxas clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Well! An interesting start to our visit, wasn’t it?”

  “Oh, yes.” Ari smiled weakly. “Talk about strange.”

  She looked hesitantly at the woman, who raised her eyebrows. “Indeed,” she said. “I’ve never been through quite so many cases of mistaken identity in a single day.”

  “Well…um…”

  “My lady,” Dr. Phylyxas said to Ari, “I am most anxious to begin our tour.”

  “Of course!” Ari looked down at her coffee branch and then at the woman. “Oh, goodness. I’m sorry. We’ll sort all this out later, I promise. Until then, would you, um, mind waiting for your coffee?”

  The woman opened her mouth, closed it, and then spread her hands in a gesture that said, why not?

  “Great,” Ari said, relieved. “Help yourself to anything you can find in the kitchen if you’re hungry. The bathroom’s over there.” She pointed it out. Then she beamed up at Dr. Phylyxas, vowing not to let anything else ruin her morning. “Shall we begin? Oh!” She snatched up Cranli’s jar from the kitchen table and led the way back into her garden. “I thought you might be interested in this…”