I mentally roll my eyes. “I know how important it is, Mother. And I’ve wanted to come aboard the Caelestis since before she became operational. I promise I won’t embarrass you or the Empire.”
“See that you don’t. Also, make sure Ambassador Holdren doesn’t get you alone. He has an agenda that doesn’t coincide with ours, and I don’t want you making any promises to him. And avoid the delegate from Glacea. From what I understand, he tends toward inappropriate conversation, and I would prefer to avoid any more unfortunate incidents.”
She gives me a look that I know is supposed to shame me. But I stand behind my decision to push Councilor Samalani into my mother’s Verbosnia bushes. Well, except for the fact that my hands had to actually come in contact with him to do it.
On the plus side, he hasn’t said a single thing about my breasts since.
A knock sounds on the door. “Sorry, Mother, but Arik is here. I have to go.”
“He’ll wait until our conversation is through, I assure you.” But she relents. “Don’t overpromise. Don’t ask too many questions. Don’t forget the Imperial face, and you’ll do great.”
As if I could ever forget the Imperial face. Don’t smile. Don’t frown. Look interested but bored at the same time—all without actually moving a facial muscle. She’s had me practicing since I was five.
“I won’t. Thank you for this opportunity, Mother.” I sign off before she can say anything else. I’m nervous enough already without any more of her awesome pep talk.
“We’re so lucky to have her,” Lara says. Again, totally circumspect. But also totally not.
There’s another knock.
“Coming, Arik,” I call.
Lara opens the door for me, then steps back to let me precede her into the main section of the pod—which is about half the size of the royal quarters I was just in.
“I’m sorry to rush you, Your Highness,” Arik says with a respectful bow of his head. His green eyes glow with amusement.
“Not at all,” I tell him. “I was just speaking with the Empress.”
He gives me a sympathetic wink. Like Lara, he’s been with me all my life and was a friend of my father’s. I trust him implicitly.
My other bodyguard, Vance, is a new member of my entourage, and I’m pretty sure he’s reporting to my mother. I’d trust him with my life but not my secrets—if I had any.
A sudden, sharp beeping splits the air. I jump, and both Arik and Vance look concerned. I mentally roll my eyes again—like they’re the only ones who are allowed to be a little on edge? This is my first time representing the Empire. Surely I’m allowed a few nerves.
I’ll be fine once I’m out there.
The pilot must have noticed my reaction, because he smiles at me before continuing to press a bunch of buttons that all look exactly the same to me. “It’s just the final system-check indicator, Your Highness,” he says. “We’re cleared to disembark.”
“Thank you.”
Lara reaches a comforting hand toward me, then stops at the last second. From now on, we’re on strict royal protocols, and a person doesn’t just reach out in public and touch a Princess of the Senestris System—even if that person happens to dress that same princess every day. Just another of my mom’s bizarre rules, and I add it to my mental list of things to change when I’m Empress.
I take another deep breath and give Lara my cockiest I’ve-got-this smile. She returns it with a little head tilt that tells me to get moving.
But as the shuttle’s disembarkment ramp extends, my stomach flips with nerves. I ignore it and focus on my job instead. Toe the line. Deliver the message. Don’t shame the Empire.
I straighten my spine and settle my best regal, I’m-so-bored look on my face. Then turn to Lara for an inspection.
She looks concerned.
Less grimace, more grin, then. Got it.
“Ready?” she asks.
“More than,” I answer.
I’m ready to step onto the ramp, but Vance and Arik beat me to it. One quiet look from Vance’s steel-gray eyes has me standing down despite the impatience gurgling inside of me. It’s his job to make sure no one gets a clear shot at me. Except, of course, the Empress…
While I wait, I study the docking bay further—a huge, cavernous room with silver walls and a curved ceiling high above us. It’s crowded with sleek and shiny shuttles of various designs. They all look new and impressive—even the patched ones—like every delegate is determined to put their best foot forward.
Then my gaze snags on something that doesn’t quite fit in. It’s dry docked in the far corner of the bay. I presume it’s a ship, much bigger than the shuttles, but it’s hard to tell anything else as it’s covered by some sort of dark cloth.
To protect it or to hide it?
I love a mystery, and I itch to head over there and take a peek. But at that moment, Arik gives the all-clear from below and we’re ready for business. My heart rate jumps. I’m trying to be cool, but this is a huge deal. And not just for me.
Because the reason we’re here is to find out exactly where the oh-so-brilliant Dr. Veragelen is with her very important and very expensive research.
Is the massive amount of money poured into this research station going to save us all from a fiery and very imminent death?
Or to put it frankly—are we all going to die?
Chapter 2
Rain, High Priestess of the Sisterhood of the Light
“Oh, Merrick, look. There she is. She’s so perfect. She looks just like a…” My mind goes blank, the way it does when I’m excited. Thankfully, that doesn’t happen very often: the blankness or the excitement.
Maybe it’s due to the drugs they gave me to help my body adjust to the much higher gravity here on the Caelestis. The space station is set to Askkandian gravity, which is more than twice that of my home planet, Serati. All I know is I’ve never felt this heavy before, like I’m fighting through mud with every step I take.
Then again, that could just be my nerves. Of all the places I’d ever imagined standing, here on this space station isn’t one of them. Not just because its mission—stopping the sun from exploding—goes against everything it’s pretty much my job to help bring about, but because high priestesses don’t usually do this sort of thing.
“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘princess,’ High Priestess.” Merrick’s tone is dry, but then, it’s always dry. I think sarcasm is his second calling, right behind being my bodyguard.
“Maybe so, but how am I supposed to know that? It’s not like I’ve ever seen a real live princess before.” It’s not like I’ve seen much of anything before. But that’s not Merrick’s fault.
It’s no one’s fault, really. It just is.
The princess glides to the top of the ramp, and I push up on my tiptoes to get a better look at her. She’s tall, really tall, and though I tell myself that it doesn’t matter, I can’t help being a little jealous.
Not of her tiara or her amazing dress but of her long, willowy height.
I know high priestesses aren’t supposed to care about their looks, and most of the time I don’t. But every once in a while, being the shortest person in any room I’m in really stinks.