I lightly cleared my throat. “After they meet Mother and Father, yes. No doubt everyone will be excited.” I didn’t want Qole and Arjan feeling any more like lab animals than they already might.
“Of course, of course.” Rubion’s enthusiasm lessened to such a small extent that only I could have noticed. Still, he wasn’t yet excusing himself, and his eyes kept returning to Qole. “It was ever so worthwhile to send you to that desolate rock in spite of the Treznor-Nirmana threat.”
My polite cough turned into a choking sputter.
But Devrak’s response dwarfed mine. “What?” He even took a step closer to Rubion, coming the barest fraction between us. He didn’t raise his voice one iota, but it cut through the air with enough heat to make me cringe inside. I had heard it several times on the training fields, seen it send elite soldiers cowering. “You knew they would be following?”
“Of course. We have spies in our midst, yes?” Rubion responded blithely. “What spy could resist following a prince off on some lone, lengthy, secretive mission? It couldn’t be helped, and the gain was greater than the risk. And at least my nephew could be trusted not to spill our secrets if caught…or to approach Treznor-Nirmana in the first place with secrets to sell.”
I wasn’t sure if Devrak caught it, but there was an implication that anyone outside the family couldn’t be trusted…perhaps even our own head of security.
But Devrak had implications—rather, outright accusations—of his own. “You deliberately sent our prince into danger?” he demanded.
“Oh, calm down, Devrak. I wasn’t putting him in real danger. It’s all just posturing on the part of Treznor-Nirmana. At worst, we would have had to pay his ransom. The true threat was to our interests. And they’re the family’s interests, not just mine…especially if we want these threats to remain mere posturing.”
No doubt Qole and Arjan were fuming over the very real danger they and the rest of the crew had been put in, but before they could speak up, Devrak continued.
“Nevarian is heir to the Throne of Luvos!” His countenance was thunderous. I’d never seen him so angry with a member of my family; I’d rarely seen him so angry at all. Apparently, his duty to look out for my safety far superseded any need to respect my uncle’s station. “He is more valuable to the family than any of your experiments, political games, or publicity stunts!”
“No doubt,” Rubion said, unfazed. “But what is the point of the Dracorte Flight if not for our heir to learn how to handle the real world on one’s own while still bringing honor to the family?”
“How would the prince getting taken hostage and ransomed bring any honor to the Dracorte name?” Devrak’s voice grew softer…and the heat leached out, leaving pure ice. “I would honor it more than that, and I’m not even a Dracorte myself.”
“Devrak.” I put a calming hand on his shoulder. “You are very much a part of this family, if not in name. I appreciate your consideration, but my uncle is correct with regard to the terms of the Dracorte Flight, which I argued very strenuously to undergo. Whatever his concern for my personal safety, it was my test, and I made it through unscathed. Mostly.”
Arjan shifted next to me, his discomfort more obvious. Right, the airlock. I’d definitely be keeping that tidbit to myself for his sake.
My uncle’s charming smile returned as he clapped my arm. “Not only that, but you surpassed our wildest expectations and brought us this young lady and her brother.”
“Who very much risked their lives to be here, and whom Father would very much like to meet,” I said, shrugging off Rubion’s hand and sidling past him. It was rude, but my uncle had been far ruder. His all-consuming interest in his work didn’t often leave room for social niceties. “If you’ll excuse me, Uncle. We’ll continue this discussion later.”
Without registering the slight, Rubion took a step back, his eyes sliding from me back to Qole and Arjan, as if he didn’t want to let them go quite yet. “Yes, of course. Later. But let’s not forget the point of their journey, no?”
Before I could assure him that I wouldn’t, he’d already nodded in farewell and exited through the door he’d come through.
Finally. Because no matter what my uncle claimed, his tests could wait for a few short moments, just so I could have this moment. Here, with my family. With Qole.
Not allowing for further delay, I threw open the double doors and strode inside. “Great Collapse,” muttered Qole, stopping short next to me.
A sinking feeling took me as I pictured the scene through her eyes.
The walls of the great room curved and arched without any sharp edges from top to bottom, where they flared to meld seamlessly with the glass that wrapped one entire side. Every beautiful piece of furniture was arranged with purpose, to create areas of conversation and flow. Here one might practice music, there one might attempt to paint the staggering view of the sunset. Blue synthetics edged with silver accented the white leather harvested from the southern woodlands of Luvos. Some protested that the source was now endangered, but these pieces were ancient, and of course that much more valuable.
I thought of the Kaitan, with its riveted alloy walls, dim lights, and wooden floors. The largest space on the ship was the scum-streaked hold, and it was far smaller than the room we had just entered.
I had always thought everything here was a testament to understated art in a living space, the way my teachers in design had taught me. Now, with Qole’s voice echoing in my ears, I compared it to the home I had known for the past week, and it looked as though a supernova had indiscriminately splattered wealth and riches to every rounded corner. There was no way she would ever feel comfortable here.
There was a moment of silence as we surveyed the great room, and its inhabitants—my most immediate family, who’d obviously gathered for our arrival—stared back from their various couches. There were only four of them, without any attendants, but somehow their presence was all the greater for it.
Then the silence was broken by a gleeful shriek, and ten-year-old Marsius, terror of the citadel, burst from his chair. My brother hurtled toward me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Nev! You’re back! From Alaxak! With friends! And gifts, right?”
I laughed and staggered backward, peeling him off. “Thank you for your brilliant observations. Yes, I’m back with friends…although if I’d known you were going to smash into me like a meteor, I might have thought twice.”
He turned his attention to Qole and Arjan. “I’m Marsius Dracorte III,” he said. “I’m number three because the name wasn’t mine first. Only the oldest brother and sister, like Nev and Solara, get new names, but that’s okay, I don’t care—”