“What a day.”
Reaching for the vid controller on hernightstand, she replayed the evidence. There she was, looking likethe quintessential foghead. Then she became a literalfoghead by passing out. If only she had been wearing a businesssuit, or even a long, elegant dress. Instead, when Cadet Stonecaught her, it looked like a scene out of a romantic adventurestory.
Apologizing silently to Rem for ruining hisbig moment, she rewound the vid a bit more, anxious to confirm thatthe rest of the ceremony had seemed dignified and proper, at leaston her part. When she reached the part where she was placing thesecond ribbon around his neck, she groaned again. Her gaze waslocked with his, and no antagonism or subtext was visible. Shealmost wished it were. Instead, the whole thing looked romanticagain.
And in that moment, she knew her uncle hadbeen mistaken. It wasn’t the picture of her in Rem’s arms thatwould be plastered all over vid walls tomorrow morning.
It was this one. This artistic shot of adashing young soldier and a sparkling-eyed, moist-lipped ingénue.It would have been stunning even if the two players had beennobodies. But the fact that they were a Stone and a Quito was thepolitical equivalent of Montague and Capulet. Except instead of aprivate balcony scene, these two were putting on a publicspectacle.
“Cripes,” she murmured unhappily.
It was so ironic. The very drug that wassupposed to ensure she’d do nothing to ruin the propriety of themedal ceremony had ended up making her faint right into the arms ofthe handsome recipient.
Nice work, ZeeZee, she rebuked herselfas she rewound the vid, this time all the way to the beginning.Then she settled back in her chair. So much for your promise toGrandpa. Because if anyone on Earth was still wondering how much ofa foul-up you are, you definitely cleared away any doubttoday.
* * * *
Vowing as she had done a thousand times tostart behaving herself—or at least to stop dishonoring the familyname—Zia pulled a comb through her freshly shampooed curls, thendressed herself in a stretchy black warm-up suit. It was soft andfaded from dozens of washings, but it was her favorite comfortwear, and since she was safe from the prying eyes of the vid press,she paired it with some pink slippers, then padded down the hall tothe staircase that would lead to the main living area of theHacienda.
She had kept her uncle waiting longer thannecessary, but only because she had been watching and rewatchingthe vid of the medal ceremony, aghast yet mesmerized over what hadhappened. She no longer blamed her uncle for being upset. The wholething had been completely inappropriate.
Yet despite her embarrassment over the day’sevents, she was also tired and hungry, and couldn’t wait to get heretiquette lecture out of the way so she could curl up on the sofain the media room, where the cook would bring her somethingscrumptious to eat and she could watch or listen to something thattook her a million miles away from politics.
She was so lulled by the thought she didn’teven see Rem Stone until he stepped in front of her in the mainhall, blocking her path. “Zia?”
“Oh!” She backed away, startled anddisoriented. “Where did you come from?”
“I was in the receiving room. I saw youcoming down the stairs. Sorry.” He stepped close again, his blueeyes vibrant with concern. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Thanks. Nice catch,” she addedruefully.
He seemed confused for a second, then heflushed and gave her an apologetic smile. “Just instinct. I hope Ididn’t make it worse.”
“No, not at all.”
He cleared his throat. “I’ve been kickingmyself for the things I said to you during the ceremony. It was alousy way to act, especially when you were trying so hard tobe—well, to treat me like any other soldier.”
“Despite the Stone-Quito feud?” She smiled.“The truth is, it’s not that big a deal to me. It is to you—that’sunderstandable. And my uncle’s rabid on the issue. But to me,you’re just a guy who can shoot and pilot and something elsereally, really well. What was it? The third medal, I mean?”
“Navigation.”
“Oh, right. Congratulations.” She grimaced.“They still gave it to you, didn’t they?”
“Yeah.” He pulled a blue-and-red-stripedribbon from his jacket pocket, dangling the gold decoration infront of her. “I didn’t see this one coming. Or the marksmanshipone either. I was so focused on the piloting medal—”
“Did the dean award it to you?”
Rem laughed. “He shoved it in my hand, ifthat’s what you mean. He definitely doesn’t have your finesse.”Licking his lips, he added with sincerity, “You did great, youknow. When the doctor told me you took a calmative, I couldn’tbelieve it. You always seem so full of yourself. Self-assured, Imean. I felt like a creep for adding to your stress, when you werejust trying to do a good job. I’m really sorry, Zia.”
She knew she was blushing as she remindedhim, “It was your big day, not mine. If anyone shouldapologize, it’s me.” When he started to protest, she stuck out herhand, palm up, and said, “Come on, let’s finish this right.”
“Pardon?”
“You deserve more than just having thatshoved at you. So let me do the honors. One last time.”
Rem stared for a moment, then handed theribbon to her. “It would be an honor, you know.”
“Because I’m Quito’s granddaughter?” Sherolled her eyes, then reached up to place the loop over his head.“Your country is proud of you, Cadet Stone. You’ll do great thingsfor us, I’m sure.”
“Zia!” Her uncle’s voice roared frombehind her. “What’s the meaning of this?”
She turned to face Jared and was touched whenRem stepped between them, as though he feared she was about to beinjured.
“It’s my fault, sir,” he explained in astrong, almost strident voice. “I took her by surprise when she waswalking down the hall.”
“I wanted to award him his last medal.Without fainting this time,” Zia said, trying to break thetension. “Then I was going to come and see you. For our talk.”
“Good.” Her uncle leveled a glare at Rem.“Can you find your way out? Or should I call a
