Across a Star-Swept Sea

Was this what the revolution had done to her?

Vania’s eyes narrowed. “Are you accusing my father of favoritism? That would make him no better than the queen he had a role in deposing.”

“Remy has done nothing. To ensure her safety, I’ve been keeping my feelings about the revolution private. Don’t you think, if I’d wanted to, I could have argued long and loud against everything going on down there?”

She snorted. “You want me to admire how ineffectual your treason has been?”

“Vania, you love Remy. You can’t let anything happen to her.”

“That’s precisely what I’m saying to you.”

Justen ran his hands through his hair, paced away a few steps, then turned. “You won’t do anything,” he insisted, trying to convince himself. “You’d be foolish to. If word got out—Remy’s a Helo. The people of Galatea wouldn’t stand for it.” To say nothing of the people of Albion. If Isla needed an excuse to invade, Remy Helo might be it.

“I hope you’re right. But if you aren’t, I doubt the Wild Poppy will find it so easy to break into Halahou prison again.”

The Poppy had broken into the prison? The man was more adept even than Justen had thought. “Vania. Listen to yourself. Listen to what you’re saying. You’re coming to me and actually threatening to imprison Remy? Torture Remy? Reduce . . . Remy?”

There was the faintest flicker in Vania’s eyes, but a second later it vanished, replaced by a serene expression. “It’s not going to come to that. You’re going to help me find the Poppy, Justen.”

Justen shook his head in disbelief. Vania was perfectly calm, but it was the assuredness of a zealot. Justen remembered when things had seemed that simple to him. The revolution was a moral good, no matter its price. And then, even when he’d first come to Albion, he’d not given much thought to anything beyond putting up with Persis and the princess in order to get his research off the ground. But now he’d seen a natural Reduced, now he’d talked to the Galatean victims, now nothing was as it seemed. He looked at Vania. At his friend Vania; at his ally Vania; at his foster sister, Vania, and he didn’t even recognize her.

“I won’t.”

She stiffened and her expression turned stern. “Then I guess you’re the one who will be Reducing Remy.” She started to move away, and Justen tried to grab her.

“Stop! No, you can’t.”

But Justen, who spent his days in a lab and his nights with his nose buried in books, was no match for a top member of the Galatean military. Quick as anything, she swept his legs out from underneath him. He landed hard on his spine, the back of his head thunking against the inlaid stone floors. For a moment his vision blurred, and when it cleared, Vania was standing near the door.

“Though I suppose,” she said, her tone thoughtful, “if you think about it, it was you all along.”

Twenty-six

PERSIS EXITED THE LIFT and approached the visitors clustered around the gliders on the lawn and chattering away, despite the late hour. As she drew closer, she saw there was an extra member of the party present. She peered through the darkness at the young woman in the dark clothes.

Vania Aldred. Again. She was about to have a very stern conversation with the guard staff.

An orchid flutter buzzed against her hand. She nudged aside her wristlock to let Isla’s message in.

I am glad to hear from Justen that no harm has come to our guests. I suppose you can’t pen in explorers, now can you?

I have wonderful news. One of the Albian royal vessels has made contact with the Argos, and with messages from the captains and Chancellor Boatwright, has persuaded them to make landing at the royal court as early as tomorrow. In honor of their arrival, I plan to introduce the crew of the Argos to Albian society at a massive gala luau tomorrow night.

Do you think they have anything decent to wear?

All my love.

Persis barely paid attention to the message, as all her focus was on the Galatean revolutionary who’d somehow managed to sneak past the guards she’d posted at both the lift and the landside entrances to the estate. The revolutionary who’d somehow, in the past hour, become close personal friends with the visitors from elsewhere.

Where was Justen while all this was going on? Had he been the one to let Vania in? Had he been the one to introduce her to the visitors?

“You’re saying it snows where you live?” Vania was asking as Persis approached. “Real snow? Astonishing. Tell me what it’s like in this . . . winter thing, when the days are only a few hours long.”

“Dreadful,” said Kai, as if that finished the matter.

“Well, what a surprise to see you again, Citizen Aldred,” said Persis.

“Lady Blake.” The dark-haired woman turned and affected a deep and oddly reverent bow, which instantly made the rest of the group uncomfortable.

Oh, so this was how she intended to play. Act the downtrodden reg, as if that would make a case for the revolution. Persis smiled. She could checkmate that.

“We must call each other ‘Persis’ and ‘Vania’ now,” Persis said. “After all, we’ll practically be sisters when Justen and I get married.” The girl flinched ever so slightly. Interesting. “Besides, I never can remember whether it’s more polite to call you by your military title or the one that you and your father share.”

“‘Citizen’ is meant to denote our equality, Lady Blake.”

“Is it now?” Persis giggled. “And yet, the truest equality lies not in names but in actions.” She took the woman’s hand and drew her away from the visitors. “What brings you to my estate at such a late hour?”

“That would be my fault, Lady Blake,” called Andromeda. Curse the visitor’s insanely good hearing. And Lady Blake? Andromeda had been calling her Persis since they met. And there was a sneer on the woman’s pale face that Persis had never noticed before either. “Vania took Tomorrow and me on her boat all day. We toured the coast of Albion and she told us all about her country.”

“Such a shame,” Persis murmured. She continued, more loudly, “What’s going on in Galatea, I mean. Luckily, we’re safe from all that nastiness here.”

“And what we’re safe from in Galatea,” Vania replied just as sweetly, “is the tyranny of stupid aristos who lord over us for no particular reason but their birth.”

“I’d like to see a country where there are no lords,” said Andromeda. “I used to read about them in books and wonder what such a place was like.”

“I’m sure such a place could be most lovely,” Persis said quickly. “But tyranny can come from those who aren’t called lords as well.”

“True,” said Kai. “And it wouldn’t have hurt for you and Ro to tell us where you were going, Andromeda. Elliot and I were worried sick.”

“Fine,” said Andromeda. “We’ll decide as a group. I vote we leave here and head to Galatea. I’m tired of being told by a bunch of lords and princesses where I can and cannot be.”

“Excellent decision!” Vania cried as Persis looked on, appalled. “We can leave right now if you wish. It’s just a short trip from here to the northern tip of Galatea. . . .”

Persis refused to panic, though from Vania’s smug grin, the Galatean was clearly waiting for such a response. Instead she said, “Oh, dear. Perhaps it would be best to delay the trip for a day or two. I’ve just received word from Isla that her ship met up with the Argos and is leading it back to Albion.”

“Have your monarch message her ship again,” suggested Vania, “and tell the Argos to divert to Galatea instead. We wouldn’t want to keep the visitors here against their will, would we?”

Persis pouted. “Oh, but her highness the princess will be so disappointed. She was planning a luau for