“Why would she leak it? Why not just release the official report? Why pretend she’s not here and refuse to see me? What do I have to do, what impossible task must I accomplish, to win a word of praise from my mother?”
“Ah. So that’s what’s eating you.”
Naturally the people on the concourse had already taken it upon themselves to go back about their business, hurrying on their way despite the intriguing scene of the prince greeting his daughter. Channel Idol’s ubiquitous camera wasps weren’t allowed to roam in military installations, yet images of this piquant public reunion would soon spread across the Republic of Chaonia’s confederated solar systems. Prince João might be an untrustworthy foreigner, but no one in Chaonia could fault his absolute devotion to his only child.
“Listen and learn, my unconquerable Sun.” The prince started to walk. Sun kept pace, wondering where he was leading her but knowing it would be the right place to go. “Your mother is a complicated person. She’ll be thrilled at this evidence of your tactical skills, your boldness and follow-through. But she’ll be pricked by envy as well. She was young once too.”
“She’s not that old.”
“Indeed she is not. She has many years left to her, as chance, fortune, the gods, and Lady Chaos allow. Certainly she’s packed more accomplishments into the twenty years of your young life than any ten thousand people can manage in a hundred.”
Sun said nothing. Queen-Marshal Eirene had achieved what everyone said was impossible. But since she’d done it, that meant it hadn’t been impossible.
Which meant the impossible was not just achievable but necessary.
“Youth has a particularly sharp glint of promise,” the prince went on with a sidelong glance at her that always seemed to pry into her secret thoughts. “Her silence is good strategy. If she praises her sole viable but ancestrally contentious heir too effusively, her praise looks suspect and self-serving. Citizens might think she cares more about keeping the queen-marshalate in her line of descent than in what’s best for the republic. But if the palace releases a dry report noting your accomplishments after the details of your dazzling maneuver have been splashed all over Channel Idol, then her restraint highlights your splendid deeds. Do you see?”
“I wanted my first command to be successful, and it was,” said Sun with an edge of impatience for her father’s ceaseless spinning of plots and undercurrents. “I wanted our forces to take control of Na Iri and its beacons, to drive out the Phene from that system, and we did.”
“Keep the target in mind,” he said cryptically.
They reached one of the gates that led out of the concourse onto an array of elevators, transport pods, and slide-ways.
“Where are we going?” Sun asked.
“In her own unpredictable way, Eirene is very predictable.”
A ping bloomed into a sixteen-pointed sunburst in Sun’s network, perceived just beyond her right eye—a summons from the queen-marshal.
“Just as I expected.” João allowed a control panel to scan his retinal signature and flag open a pod that would take them to the station’s secure command node.
The pod was big enough to seat sixteen, but only the prince settled onto a padded bench seat. The Gatoi arranged themselves to guard the two sealed doors, while Sun remained standing respectfully in front of her father with Octavian in silent attendance at her back.
“Father, do you know anything about wedding rumors?” A beloved face flashed in her mind’s eye, but she pushed the distracting and forbidden thought aside impatiently. “No one has said anything to me about a marriage. I’m not interested.”
“I expect that’s just Channel Idol sweetening the pot with an extra dab of honey. Pay it no mind. Eirene can’t betroth you without my consent. I had a codicil written into our marriage contract.”
He licked a finger and leaned over to rub a smear of dust off a nacre pendant nestled amid the embroidery decorating his boot. The pendant was carved into the shape of snake’s wings to represent one of the thirteen exalted officials and gracious courtiers who attend the throne of the Celestial Empire of lost memory. Once the nacre gleamed to his satisfaction, he straightened.
“Now, listen carefully. Don’t diminish your accomplishments, but don’t boast of them either. The evidence of your deeds is the only trophy you need.”
Sun sighed, knowing there was more lecture to come. Instead João folded his hands on his lap and nodded with a rare warm smile of heady approval.
“You did well. This is only the beginning.”
2
A Fresh and Sharper Thorn of Disquiet
Once the pod sealed and began to race through the interlocking strands of the orbital station, the senior Gatoi soldier relaxed enough to greet Sun.
“Well met, Your Highness.”
“Colonel Evans.”
Sun acknowledged the other five banner soldiers as well, all known to her from her father’s household. She’d spent many an evening playing mah-jongg with them in her father’s pavilion, but this wasn’t the place or time for less formal interactions.
Octavian offered Colonel Evans a respectful salutation in recognition of their complementary roles, but the two did not converse. Like every marine who had fought in the border wars he did not trust the Gatoi, not then, not now, not ever. Why should he, when 90 percent of Gatoi banner soldiers fought as auxiliaries for the Phene Empire? Yet he had agreed thirteen years ago to become bodyguard to a seven-year-old princess born of an unexpected union between the young and ambitious queen-marshal of embattled Chaonia and a strong-willed prince of the Gatoi who had broken away from his own Conclave of Royals to make a daring alliance.
Was it lust or an exceptional sense of strategy that had driven Eirene’s decision to take a second and decidedly controversial consort at a time, twenty-two years ago, when the republic was beleaguered by aggressive Phene raids and arrogant Yele demands? Sun’s musings on this perennial question kept her focused until the pod clicked into the airlock on the command node’s outer ring.
An intercom chimed, followed by curt words. “Place all weapons on the floor immediately.”
Sun tensed, fingers brushing the stinger holstered at her hip. “That can’t be for us.”
“Standard security protocol, Princess,” said Octavian with a tip of the head toward the Gatoi. He calmly unclipped his rifle and set it at his feet aligned so he could grab it quickly.
Prince João looked superficially serene, but by the flicker of his eyes Sun knew he was annoyed. Nevertheless, he gave a languid, downward gesture with his right hand. The six banner soldiers promptly lay facedown on the floor, hands on the backs of their heads. The pose of abject surrender shocked her, but she waited to see what would happen next because she knew her father curated every least interaction.
The pod’s door slid open to reveal a line of marines tucked behind guard emplacements in an armored entryway. A middle-aged man with the typical stocky build of a person who has grown up on Chaonia Prime strode forward to halt at the threshold. He did not wear a military uniform, although he moved with the authority of a high-ranking officer. A sunburst badge pinned over his heart identified him as one of the queen-marshal’s Companions, born to one of the seven Core Houses and thus equals of Eirene. He acknowledged Sun’s presence with a nod rather than a salute.