“We don’t need to go to Vistenia,” Beckett says.
Ian’s eyes narrow to slits. “If you say Milla is dead one more time, I’ll…”
Beckett raises an eyebrow but seems in no way intimidated. “Chill the fuck out, Captain. We don’t need to go to Vistenia because I know where the Reformer was heading. At least her first stop.”
“Why the hell didn’t you say something earlier?”
It’s Beckett’s turn to narrow her eyes. “Because I didn’t know you wanted to know. Communication is a two-way street, Captain.”
Ian closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. And when he opens them again, he’s smiling—with all of his teeth. “So, could you tell me, oh wise Beckett, where the fucking Reformer was fucking heading after it left the fucking Caelestis. Pretty please.”
“Glacea.”
Glacea? Seriously?
“And you know this how?” For the first time, Max sounds as annoyed as Ian.
Beckett shrugs. “When we were taken on board, one of the guards asked. Apparently, they were just refueling on Glacea, but it’s likely someone would know where they were heading afterward.”
Glacea is the outermost planet of the system. Where could they be heading after that? There’s nowhere to go.
“Then set a course for Glacea,” Ian says with a wide grin that matches the one on Max’s face. “And now would be good.”
Blame the hangover-induced insanity, but I can’t help smiling along with them. I’m glad he’s got a real lead—it’s made him happier than I’ve ever seen him. Again, I wonder who she is to him, to them, but can’t bring myself to ask. Not because I’m afraid of the answer but because… I sigh. I’m totally afraid of the answer. Which is ridiculous, considering we’ve only ever shared a couple of kisses on a rooftop when we were waiting to be sure we weren’t going to die.
That doesn’t count for anything.
But when he crosses to Max and the two of them start talking excitedly, I suddenly need to be alone.
I get up and walk out, and I don’t think anyone even notices me going.
I go to the galley for some water. My head is pounding, my stomach gurgling, and no matter how much I tell myself not to puke, I’m not sure it’s actually going to work this time.
Hangovers are as bad as everyone at the palace always said they were.
I’d like to say I’ve learned my lesson and that I’ll never indulge in alcohol again. But the truth is, I liked the way it made me feel. Like someone else—someone free to say whatever I want. I wonder if that’s what it feels like to be Beckett, who doesn’t need false courage to say what she thinks—or to stand up for herself.
Once I’m in the galley, I notice a huge box of dirty dishes and glasses just sitting on a counter. Clearly, someone started cleaning up but didn’t bother to finish the job. How hard could it be to wash a few dishes? I think. Nobody else is going to do it—why not me? I can be useful.
I run some water in the sink and roll up my sleeves. As the crumbs drift down the drain, I think about our next steps. I don’t want to go to Glacea. I want to go home and get this whole imposter-princess thing sorted out. Or at least that’s what I think I want, before digging a little deeper into how I’m feeling.
The truth is, Ian wasn’t too far off when he said I wasn’t exactly protesting being on the Starlight. These last few days have made me see my life—and the entire Empire of Senestris—in a whole new way. I mean, here I am with my sleeves rolled up, washing a dish.
And sure, I’ve always known the Empire wasn’t perfect. Always known my mother would choose her kingdom over everything else, including my father. And me. She’s my mother, and she cares about Senestris. It’s why she’s been so hard on me.
But it’s a far cry from that to everything these people are accusing her of. Or, worse, not accusing her of. Just speaking about it like it’s no big deal. Like it’s accepted truth.
And I think what scares me the most is that I’m beginning to like these people. Beginning to maybe even trust them a little bit, though I can’t say they’re affording me the same. So what does it say when everyone except Rain—who’s been locked up in a monastery for practically her entire life—thinks my mother is capable of all kinds of terrible things? Even worse, what does it mean when I’m starting to believe it, too?
Rangar was horrible. And I know she is aware of what’s going on there—she had a study done on Rangar just last year. But apparently she did absolutely nothing with the results. And I just took her word and the word of the Council that everything was fine.
That the people of Senestris look up to the Ruling Families. That they respect us. That the assassination attempts we worry about are just from jealous people who want that respect and power for themselves.
If any of that’s the case, I haven’t seen a shred of evidence of it yet.
As for the rest…I don’t know what I want. More to the point, I don’t know who I want to be. All I know is it’s not the perfect little princess my mother’s been training me to be. The one who accepts that the way things are is the way things have to be. Maybe I need this—here and now, a chance to see the system as it really is, and then I can formulate a plan for how it should really be and how to get there.
Or maybe I just want to stick around so I can kiss Ian again.
Ugh.
He’s another whole story that I don’t want to get into right now, I think as I look down and realize I’ve finished cleaning the entire box of dishes. Huh. Maybe I have actually found something I could be good at—
A giant crash echoes through the ship. It’s followed by a scream and another crash—and it all seems to be coming from the bridge.
I’m out the door and running before the second scream rips through the air.
Chapter 29
Rain
Ian and Merrick have been arguing the merits of heading to Glacea versus Serati for the past twenty minutes, and if they aren’t calmed down soon, someone is bound to get hurt. The air is charged between the two men, noticeably so, as Max looks at Merrick and says, “Stand down.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” Merrick sneers at Max. “Or you, either.”
“Merrick, please stop,” I beg. “I’ll be good, honest. I’ll wear the robe. I won’t drink any more alcohol. Please don’t fight because of me.”
“I’m fighting because it’s the right thing to do. What I’m supposed to do. Keep you safe.”
“Even if he shoots you?”
“Some things are worth dying for,” Merrick answers, his eyes locked with Ian’s dark ones.
“Maybe so, but not this.” I turn my gaze to Ian and Max. “Please, don’t—”
“You don’t ask them for anything!” Merrick snaps so meanly that I rear back in shock.
But underneath the shock is an anger I almost don’t recognize. It’s such a rare emotion for me that it takes me a second to realize what the burning in my blood is. By the time I do, I’m half ready to shoot Merrick myself—or at least punch him in the nose.
But by the time I come around to that, Ian is already unbuckling the holster from his waist. “I don’t have to shoot him to make my point.” He tosses the holster—and the weapon—to Max and then holds up his hands. “So now what?”