Aidan tried the door, but it was locked. A strange silence followed as the headache took over. He felt his muscles go limp one by one, and then his vision went.
Blacker than her hair, he thought, amazed that he could have a concrete thought as he plunged to the earth.
CHAPTER SIX
“Insolent child!” Advisor Winchell’s voice reverberated off the twenty-foot-high ceilings. “Insufferable! Dim-witted!” Her cane hit the marbled floor with each exclamation mark.
Delia stood in her stolen pilot’s uniform. It hung from her body like an outer layer of extra skin. Her feet were numb and her arms dangled heavy by her sides. When she and Prince Felix had returned to the palace, a senior guard escorted her directly to the throne room to see the queen. Instead, Advisor Winchell was waiting for her.
With her chin tucked in, barely lifting her eyes, Delia listened to the scathing rant as the light from the two suns moved across the throne room, marking the time.
She’d learned long ago to let Advisor Winchell finish her whole argument before coming to her own defense. No disobedience was too casual for the elderly woman’s sharp tongue.
Once, when Delia and Shania had snuck into the royal kitchen after bedtime with the intent to have another slice of honey petunia cake, she had caught them on the way back to their rooms and kept them up until dawn, telling them legends of horror about disobedient children being punished by the ghosts of their ancestors.
Now, Delia stood in place, feeling like that little girl again. She watched the large patch of sun move across the floor, then up the ornate throne, hitting the inlaid crystals one by one. Rainbows momentarily painted the wall covered in portraits of past queens. As the lecture continued, their expressions seemed to warp from regal elegance to condemnatory glares.
“The entire fleet was put on alarm because of your unbridled spirit!”
Tap, went the cane.
“Your impulsivity put this whole kingdom at risk!”
Tap.
It was on the tip of Delia’s tongue to mention the bodyguard and how she chose helping him over a quick escape. She was brave, not impulsive. She even gave that man and his son passage to Delta Kur.
“You may have jeopardized the marriage pact! Your lack of seriousness concerns the court! Astor may have lost its last hope!”
TAP. TAP. TAP.
“That’s quite enough.” A regal voice from the back of the room sliced through Advisor Winchell’s last scolding. Delia’s mother had finally arrived.
There was a rustling of silk and tempered footsteps. Then thin fingertips touched Delia’s chin, tilting her face upward. She forced herself to meet the eyes of her mother. “I understand you’ve been busy this morning.”
“Your Majesty,” Delia said, curtsying automatically.
The light illuminated the queen’s hair, picking up the few silver strands of her braid, elaborate and entwined with the crown on her head.
Delia always saw herself in her mother’s face: brown skin, high forehead, and square jaw—features of a queen. But not today. The only thing reflected back to her at this moment was her mother’s disappointment.
Advisor Winchell’s posture stiffened as the queen floated past Delia and took her place on the throne. The room was silent; even the former queens in the portraits seemed to be holding their breath.
“Please explain your actions, daughter. I was under the assumption you understood the importance of this gathering we’re hosting.”
“I do, Your Majesty,” Delia replied. “I have been researching suitable matches, determining which will benefit our kingdom the most—and likewise who I should avoid insulting.”
“You’re concerned about making enemies?” At this Queen Talia raised an eyebrow. The lines in her expression seemed more prominent than usual.
There was a sting of guilt as Delia worried about the undue stress she’d put her mother under, and thereby the kingdom.
The queen continued, “I’m impressed with your ability to look at all the consequences of each choice. However, this does not explain why you sabotaged a state-of-the-art android and stole an elite ship.”
Advisor Winchell made a sound at the back of her throat. Her cane tapped on the floor, and Delia assumed she was silently hurling insulting adjectives in her mind.
“Sabotage?” Delia replied, her mouth suddenly dry. “I only put a glitch in Marta’s SHEW.”
“The stimulating humanoid equalizing widget is a complex piece of technology.” The queen reprimanded her with each syllable. “Marta had to be shut down.”
An unexpected force slammed into Delia’s heart. “Shut down! You mean permanently?”
The queen nodded.
“But I programmed her to return to normal after a few minutes. Shut down? No, that doesn’t make sense.” She pictured the android who had been specially modified to serve as her royal first maid. She was to be with Delia forever.
Queen Talia tilted up her chin in a well-practiced move Delia had studied for years. There was an edge to her voice when she finally spoke. “It would seem you’re not as proficient with her circuits as you think. She had a high-level clearance. Playing with it may have jeopardized the safety of the palace. Even though there has been no indication the resistance from the Dark District has organized itself beyond anything more than a gang of disgruntled ex-miners, we can never lessen our steadfast vigilance.”
“Marta is not a spy for the resistance,” Delia replied under her breath, flirting with the edge of defiance.
“Such audacity,” Advisor Winchell grumbled.
“An important trait for a future leader,” Queen Talia remarked.
Advisor Winchell dropped her gaze, looking to the side.
The rebuff was a small victory to Delia. Still, the guilt of Marta’s fate pulled on her heart.
Queen Talia took in a long breath. “Your marriage means a great deal to our people,” she said. “I thought that was clear.”
“I am fully committed, Your Majesty,” Delia replied truthfully. For as long as she could remember she had been groomed to take her mother’s place when the queen was summoned by her ancestors. Just like all the former queens in the portraits on the walls, Delia knew she was one of many who had been born into the responsibility of taking care of Astor. “It is my duty to not only wear the crown, but to be the crown. I only thrive if the kingdom thrives.”
A rare smile of approval graced her mother’s features. “Our energy crisis could be solved with a marriage pact made with the prince from Rexula. I assume he’s made your list of potential candidates.”
“Prince Quinton,” she answered. Delia pictured the blue planet, a globe of oceans separated by a scattering of islands, each one as diverse as the next. She’d gone several times with her mother on royal visits. When she returned she filled Shania’s head with tales of water people and seaweed palaces, when actually it was rustic compared to Astor, rich in resources of the sea and the hearty people who lived there.
“He has,” Delia started. “However, Prince Felix from Trellium offers military prowess if the resistance continues to grow.”
“Hmm,” the Queen commented, her tone solemn. “Both choices have something to offer. I wonder if there is a way to secure the plasma and the peace. Perhaps solving the energy crisis will remove the angry motivation of the resistance?”