By then a ship has been spotted beyond our atmosphere, so I walk out beyond the base’s perimeter and wait for my ride. Ten minutes later, the shuttle sets down. It’s a mid-range transport ship with my mother’s insignia of a star-studded diamond on the side. Dread settles in my stomach the second I see it, but I ignore it. I never thought it would be easy going home to Askkandia, but it’s the decision I made. Now I’ve got to own it.
I watch as the engines settle to a low rumble, the external door opens, and the ramp slowly lowers. The moment the ramp is fully extended, a man dressed in the black-and-purple body armor of the Imperial security forces appears at the top. The second I see him, the tension oozes out of me, because he’s not just any Imperial soldier but a personal favorite of mine.
I race for the spaceship as he strides down the ramp toward me. “Arik!” I shout.
“Princess Kali!” Relief floods his face as he realizes that I’m okay. The second I reach him, I hurl myself into his arms, and his eyes widen with alarm.
He catches me, and after the initial shock of me touching him, he allows his arms to wrap around me.
I give myself a few seconds to hold on tight—he smells like home—and then reluctantly release my death grip on his shoulders.
“It’s good to see you, Your Highness,” he tells me once we both step back. “Though I almost didn’t recognize you.”
Considering I’m currently in a soldier’s uniform, I can only imagine. “You look exactly the same, Arik.”
“You don’t.” He studies me a moment longer. “You remind me of your father.”
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. It’s so good to see you.”
“And you. We feared the worst when you disappeared from the Caelestis.”
“I was terrified for all of you.” I take a deep breath, then ask the question that’s haunted me for weeks. “Did Lara make it?”
He nods. “She did. She suffered a broken arm, but she’s back on Askkandia now. Waiting for you.”
The relief is palpable. Whatever else happens, at least I’ll see her again. “And Vance?”
“He didn’t make it.” His eyes are sad. “Over a hundred people died in the aftermath of the explosions, including Ambassadors Terra and Holdren.”
“I’m so sorry.” I didn’t know Vance so well, but all the same, the thought of his death—especially while protecting me—fills me with sorrow. “It shouldn’t have happened.”
“No, Your Highness. But we’re doing everything we can to find those responsible and bring them to justice.”
I wonder if that’s true. Or if—like with my father’s death—my mother will wait a couple more weeks and then come out with “evidence” against the Rebellion. Another rout of the rebels’ hideaways sounds exactly like something she’d be interested in.
I don’t say that, though. Instead, I settle for a simple, “I hope so. A lot of innocent people died, and we need to find out why so we can make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“Now you’re sounding just like your father as well. You’ve grown up, Your Highness.”
His words make me feel warm and…hopeful. My father was a good man. I hope I can be like him.
“Let’s get you home. Is this bag all you have?”
I nod, even as I recoil at his words. Because the palace no longer feels like home. The Starlight does, and she’s far away from us by now. Which is exactly what I wanted, I remind myself. Even though it feels like shit.
Then again, so does having to face my mother. Thankfully, I’ve got time to prepare myself. Because something tells me it’s not going to go well.
Chapter 68
Kali
The ship lands lightly on the docking pad of the palace, and I take a deep breath. My chest hurts, my stomach is in knots, and there’s a part of me that thinks I’ve made the wrong decision. But what choice did I have? Let my friends—let Ian—get killed because of me?
I never could have lived with myself.
It’s taken a few weeks to get back here, weeks in which I’ve had plenty of time to think—with nothing else to do. And I’ve come to the conclusion that I have to put what happened on the Starlight behind me. At least for now. Senestris is still facing the biggest existential threat it ever has—a system-wide killer—and that has to be our priority. My priority. If I learned anything on this journey, it should be that. I can make a difference.
Arik clears his throat. “We’re cleared to disembark, Your Highness.”
That’s when I realize they’re waiting for me. I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting frozen in my seat, harness still fastened, but it’s long enough that whatever protocols they normally take to land at the palace are already complete.
My heart hurts as I remember Gage teaching me a few things about how a ship’s mechanics help it take off and land. How I listened in on Beckett’s lessons to Rain about flying, and how even though Beckett never acknowledged my presence, she never told me to fuck off, either. I’ve learned so much.
And now I’m back home.
I take a deep breath and put my princess face on again. “Thank you, Arik.”
I’ve waited so long, the ramp is already lowered. As I get to the outer door, I look down. And there she is, looking just like my mom always looks.
Beautiful—way more beautiful than me.
Commanding—even standing here, waiting on her only daughter to return, it’s obvious she’s the one in charge.
Tiny—I get my height from my father and my Serati heritage. My mom only comes up to my chin, but she has such a big presence, I don’t think anyone notices how small she is.
I think that everything I learned about her while on the Starlight had me building her up in my head into some kind of monster. And in some ways, she definitely is. But in others, she’s just my mom, with all her good points and her bad.
I need to remember that when it’s time to plead my case.
I straighten my shoulders—posture is nearly as important as your facial expression when you’re a princess—and paste on my best regal serenity. Then I glide down the ramp toward my past and my future, making sure to keep my chin up the whole time.
I can’t tell anything from my mother’s expression, but that’s to be expected. I did get my princess face from her, after all. Still, the last thing I expect when I come to a halt in front of her is for her to hug me.
But she does, pulling me to her and holding me close for several seconds. At first, I’m so surprised that I don’t know what to do—she’s never hugged me in my life—but eventually I figure it out and wrap my arms around her, too.
She smells like flowers, like the big bushes in the garden filled with purple and red blooms. It’s a comforting scent, and I take a deep breath, soaking it in as I try to figure out how I feel.
Weird. Awkward. But also like maybe this was the right thing to do after all.
My mother loves me. Whatever she’s done, whatever she’s planning to do in the future, I know my mother loves me.
I just need to remember that through whatever comes next.