“Be calm. You can do this.” Merrick’s hand touches my shoulder, and immediately my racing heart slows as I feel his strength, both mental and physical. He might find me a trial, but for the last few years, he’s been family, teacher, friend, protector, all rolled into one.
If he says it will be okay, then it will be okay.
The princess is even more beautiful close up, with the same light golden-brown skin and dark red hair of the Empress. But her skin has the same swirling silver pattern that Merrick’s does, and in this light it’s like she almost glows. Standing next to her makes me feel drab and young, despite the fact that we’re the same age.
“Ambassador Fr—” A frown flickers across her face. “You’re not Ambassador Frellen.”
It sounds like an accusation, and I wonder if she recognizes me and if that’s why she’s frowning. Because she is here for a solution to the Dying Sun and I exist because there is none.
For a second, I can do nothing but blink up at her and wait for her to say something to me about our beliefs. When she doesn’t, and instead just continues to frown at me, instinct takes over, and—even as I’m thinking don’t bow—I do it anyway. I drop into a low, deep curtsy that has Merrick’s hand tightening on my shoulder as though he can stop my descent.
Too late, Merrick. Way too late.
I’m nearly to the floor before he pulls me up like a puppet. But the damage has been done. Everyone saw what I did—most especially the princess.
I’m expecting the worst when I finally work up the nerve to glance at her face. But she’s actually smiling, amusement flickering in her eyes.
“I don’t think I know your name,” she murmurs.
“I’m Rain,” I say. “It’s an honor to meet you, Princess.”
I hear Merrick’s indrawn breath behind me, because, of course, I’ve made another mistake. Flustered, my face burning with mortification, I do the only thing I can think of to make this better. I reach out to touch her…and… Yes, it’s official. I am a total and complete disaster.
Thankfully, Merrick yanks me backward before my hand can connect. At the same time, the big man in the body armor pushes himself between the princess and me. As he does, he reaches for the weapon at his side.
“For goodness’ sake, Vance,” the princess mutters. “Stand down.”
Vance looks like he wants to argue, but eventually he steps back. And I don’t blame him, which is why I do my best to look harmless. It’s not hard, considering I’m 1.6 meters tall with a total baby face. But still, after the mess I just made, I’m not taking anything for granted.
Except the princess’s lips are twitching. I’m a source of amusement, which is completely humiliating.
“I think proper introductions might be in order,” she says.
Merrick steps forward. “Your Highness. May I introduce Rain, High Priestess of the Sisterhood of the Light and temporary ambassador of Serati.”
“High Priestess?” Her eyes widen, and I wonder what her feelings are toward the Sisterhood. Our relationship with the Ruling Families has often been a little…fraught. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t allow Vance to shoot you. It would definitely have caused a diplomatic incident.”
“Yes, Prin—” I suck in my breath. “Yes, Your Highness,” I say. “I’m glad as well. Very glad.”
She laughs then, holding my gaze as she does. For a second, I think I see wariness, or maybe pity, in her eyes. But then she reaches out and touches a finger to the emblem of the second sun on the upper left lapel of my robe. As she does, a murmur goes up around us and Merrick stiffens beside me.
But before anyone else can throw a fit, a loud buzzer goes off. The blaring shifts the tension as across the docking bay, a light flashes above a set of double doors.
The princess drops her hand and steps back. “It looks like something is finally happening.” Then, just like that, she turns and walks away as the sound continues.
Something is finally happening. Seems it’s time to shift focus from the disaster that I am to the disaster that I’m supposed to save us all from.
Chapter 3
Ian, Mercenary and Smuggler and （Very） Occasional Good Guy
The incessant buzzing sound of yet another ship’s approach blares over the speakers, and I glance at the fancy clock above the door.
Twenty-two hours and approximately seventeen minutes until I get off this flying bucket of bolts. Not that I’m counting or anything.
Then again, it’s hard not to count when we’ve been stuck on this shithole twice as long as Max and I originally planned.
Sure, most people consider the Caelestis the crown jewel in the Empire’s very impressive fleet. And maybe she is—she’s definitely shiny as all fuck—but I’ve been on board long enough to know she’s also a goddamn cesspit of evil. One I’ll be more than happy to see the back of. The prison ship, the Reformer, arrives tomorrow, and Max and I will be on her.
The Reformer will lead us to Milla. She has to—otherwise, we’ve hit a dead end.
I grit my jaw as I stride down the narrow corridor. I could have done without the extra shift today—I have things to do. But everyone is on duty. There’s something big going on, some sort of important presentation Dr. Veragelen, aka Dr. Wicked, is giving to some visiting bigwigs. I have no clue what, and to be honest, I don’t give a shit.
I just need to get through this extra shift—and the ceremony Dr. Veragelen has been surreptitiously planning for weeks now. She may be walking around acting like she doesn’t care about today, like it’s some giant inconvenience or something, but anyone who works closely with her knows it’s all she’s been thinking about.
Since I have the misfortune of working more closely with her than most—bodyguard to the head doc in charge comes with a lot of downsides—I know exactly how on edge she’s been about today’s presentation. After all, it’s hard to conquer the known universe if you’re on the Empress’s bad side. And if there’s anything the doc wants more than to make this bizarre experiment of hers work, it’s access to all the secrets of the universe. And the power that comes with it.
That’s probably why she’s dressed in style today. She’s in her usual black lab suit, but she’s added a fancy black cloak. She looks goddamn ridiculous. Who the hell wears a cloak, anyway?
Rumor has it that the not-so-good doc is over three hundred years old and that the Corporation—founded by the seven Ruling Families and the ones in charge of all the tech around here—has found ways to extend their lifespans. If so, they’re not sharing the secret with the rest of us.
But that’s the Corporation for you. Secretive bastards.
Regardless, ever since Doc V laid eyes on me when I arrived two months ago, I’ve been on permanent personal bodyguard duty. I think she has a thing for me, but never going to happen. I’d rather fuck a slogg.
Apart from the fact that she gives me the creeps, I hold her personally responsible for whatever happened to Milla. I’ve seen a little of what goes on in the labs here—and the thought of that being done to one of the most important people in the system to me makes my blood boil. I’m thinking, once Milla is safe, I’ll make that personal visit to the doc and pay a few overdue debts.