chapter 1

Idalyn Khatisya knew, from the moment she saw the woman, that Kiida Aleph Qai’Synada was trouble.

It was something in that tousle of russet hair, that toothy grin, those mischievously dog-like amber eyes. Even in the stillframe holograph projected in the dim Khasep throne room, the Princep of Mirador commanded the attention of the space in a way that no one but professional athletes and military college dropouts could muster. Idalyn found herself idly scrolling through Kiida’s provided biography to find out if she was either.

“I thought I was to marry Masean Aleta Qai’Synada.” Idalyn muttered, somewhat to herself but more to her High Advisor, Gwydyce Haidhu. She idly scanned row after row of Kiida’s biographical and biological information. 26, five-foot-ten, third-in-line to the Mirador throne.

“Unfortunately,” Gwydyce said in that gravelly, unreadable voice of his, “Princep Masean of Mirador passed to the Aftersky only three weeks ago, in a boating accident. His family sends his regards, Prima.”

Idalyn frowned, and pulled her thin, bony frame further onto her stony throne. Something intense burned inside her chest as she contemplated this news, like a sip of the strong, starchy alcohol she was only allowed to drink for ritual purposes. She couldn’t help but feel somehow disrespected that the news of her fiance’s death hadn’t reached her for so long. It wasn’t grief that addled her, no- she’d never even met Masean, and couldn’t vouch for his character or say that she even cared much for him. It was the simple nature of the act. She was supposed to have married the man, and now, he was dead, and she was being informed of her new engagement weeks before their wedding.

“I can assure you that Princep Kiida is a suitable match,” Gwydyce continued. “She’s Masean’s younger sister, and thus of the same blood and breeding as he. She’s consistently placed high in the annual Miradi courtship tournaments, and is rumored to inherit a large estate and fortune upon the passing of Duke Eiyresal, long may he reign. And since she’s only the third-born child of the throne, there will be no requirement to produce an heir. That solves the problem of the… nature of your engagement.”

That, at least, eased Idalyn’s mind a bit. Masean had been the Crown Princep, and his proposal letter had come with a specific clause regarding the amount of children Idalyn would be required to bear and raise. She’d never understand the Miradi royal’s obsession with rearing their own children, instead of handing them off to a nanny or governess. Starlights, she was raised by a governess, and she’d turned out fine. Regardless, the lack of Masean’s lifeforce meant the lack of contractual obligation she had to keep following, and the lack of another party to create offspring with. She silently prayed that Kiida didn’t have any grand ideas about adoption.

Still, a third Princep was a far worse deal than the crown one. A marriage that was supposed to have lifted Khasep to the Empire’s Inner Ranks would now only place them along the Middle Corridor, with all the mercantile capitals and the wealthiest of the agricultural worlds. Idalyn knew that Khasep was no agricultural or mercantile world, nor was it one of the glimmering Imperial Capitals of the Inner Ranks, but she also knew her people could not remain in the shadows any longer. Khasep had only been a part of the Empire for a couple decades, and it was already struggling. She needed to catch the attention of her people, to voice the concerns of her starving people. And to reach the Emperor, she needed to elevate the standing of her planet.

Marriage had been a given. The Empire always liked to do their business in marriage, paring off their various scions amongst each other to strengthen ties and fuddle bloodlines until the end of time. The High Houses of the Inner Ranks had thousands of scions- cousins and grandchildren and adopted street-urchins turned into royalty. Masean- and now, Kiida- had come from one such family. The Duchy of Mirador had reigned for fortuitous centuries in luxurious bliss, giving all its scions enough free time to copulate to their hearts’ desires. Khasep only had one heir to marry off for political gain, and it was Idalyn.

The Prima Khasepa rose from her cold, stony throne, letting her long, indigo daygown brush against the cold, stony floor, and approached the holograph projection of her new fiancee.

Kiida really was a striking individual, and she really did look like her brother. She shared Masean’s square jaw, his warm, brown skin, they even had the same pattern of moles- one above the left eyebrow, one on the right cheek, one at the center of the forehead. Masean had never had that playful of a glint in his eyes, or that light of a smile. In all the stillframes she’d received of her former, now deceased betrothed, he’d looked utterly exhausted, too tired to even make proper eye contact with his photographer. Idalyn wondered if maybe, he would’ve made her a better match than his exuberant younger sister.

Idalyn skimmed over her new betrhothed’s biography. Most of it was dull details about the Princep’s childhood, her education, her friends. There was some useful information. Idalyn learnt that Kiida was neither a military school dropout nor a professional athlete, but had attempted and failed to make a career doing both- at the same time, even. The athleticism was going better than the dropping out, it seemed, as she’d graduated from Saiyun Officer’s Academy with less than honors. Kiida spent her leisure time racing jetskiffs across Mirador’s crystal seas, patronizing arts districts across the Empire, and being caught in a worrying amount of scandalous love affairs. Her biography expressed her wish to study ceramics at the Miewan Institution of Fine Arts- a foolish and aspirational goal for a Princep- and her vague affiliation with the Miradi Founder’s Guilde- Idalyn made a mental note to look up what exactly that was. Overall, Kiida looked like a foolhardy, reckless individual with too much passion and too little awareness. She’d be a terrible partner in a political marriage.

But Idalyn didn’t need her to be a perfect partner. All she needed was to be a Princep of Mirador, and to be married to her. After that, everything would fall in place. She kept reminding herself of that.

If she said it enough times, maybe it would become true.

Later in the night, after Idalyn had retired from her court, she paced her room, reading the Kiida’s marriage offer over and over again.

It hadn’t been written by the Princep- at least, Idalyn was fairly certain it hadn’t been. The language was too stiff, too formal than what she would’ve expected from a woman such as Kiida, and besides, noble families such as the Qai’Synadas never did any work they could pay someone else to do for them. The proposal itself had come that morning, inked on crisp, real paper, though that was not the copy Idalyn obsessively memorized. Instead, she scrolled through a digital scan of the letter projected into air by her wrist implant. There was so much to do, in so little time.

Four years ago, when she’d first been betrothed to Masean, she’d had time to review the proposal and all its clauses and caveats. She’d even hired the best marriage lawyer on Khasep to look over the document. She’d had time to carefully plan out the stages of their engagement- the treaties that would be formed afterwards, the speeches she’d say at the ceremony. This time, she wasn’t afforded the luxury of time.

Idalyn had sent her response to the proposal the minute she understood its contents. The digital copy had been received and approved only an hour later, of course. The offer had only been a formality. Both Idalyn and the House of Mirador understood she was never going to refuse the marriage contract. She wasn’t in a position to refuse. The only real surprise was that they didn’t pair her off with some lesser cousin.

Now, after her fate had been sealed, Idalyn finally had the time to process the decision she’d committed herself to. The wedding was in ten days- exactly a year before her marriage with Masean would’ve been legalized. Ten days. Less than two weeks to finalize preparations, to write up treaties and speeches and vows, to reckon with what her new life would become. It took a week by spaceskiff to travel from Khasep to the interior planet of Mirador, meaning she only had a handful of days to meet her new fiance before they’d spend the rest of their lives together.

It didn’t matter. Idalyn had always known she’d wed a stranger. Really, Masean had been no better- just another distant, more melancholy Princep with the same russet hair and the same stereotypically handsome face. Being wed to Kiida would be no different than being wed to Masean would’ve been, save for the minute, personal differences between the living Princep and her deceased brother. And those, she could get over.

As Idalyn reviewed the list of pre-wedding events and festivities for the hundredth time, her vision began to grow fuzzy and her sinuses tense from squinting too hard at the bright, high-contrast holoscreen. Cursing her own frailty, Idalyn closed out the screen and fell backwards onto her enormous, plush bed. She quickly pulled up her comms, and sent one to Gwydyce asking him to come speak with her.

A few moments later, sharp knocking at her door. Idalyn gestured for the room interface to slide open the automatic door, and gathered herself from the mess of her bed. She straightened her tunic and pushed her twin braids off her shoulder. “Come in,” She said.

The door slid open with a hissing woosh, and in walked Gwydyce. Instead of fully entering her private space, he lingered politely by the door. “You wished to see me, Prima?”

“Yes.” Idalyn rose from her bed. She only wore a plain daytunic, but the lack of formality didn’t bother her when it was only Gwydyce’s eyes that beheld her. Her advisor had practically raised her since birth. There was little of her he’d never seen. “My wedding takes place in ten days.”

Shock passed briefly over Gwydyce’s stoic features. “Ten days, Prima? I- I’ll admit, I was under the impression your wedding with Princep Kiida would take place during the time your wedding with Masean would’ve, at the earliest.”

“As did I.” Idalyn couldn’t keep her sourness out of her voice as she approached her advisor. She pulled the marriage proposal back up, and pointed to the scheduling information. “Ten days. And we have to be there a week in advance.”

“I see.” Gwydyce adjusted his spectacles. He was one of the only people Idalyn knew who still wore physical glasses instead of opting for retinal surgery. “Well. This certainly is motivation to speed preparations along.”

“I know.” Idalyn said, and closed out the proposal again. “We’ll need to leave at dawn tomorrow.”

“The press-” Gwydyce began.

“Will report on my engagement when I reach Mirador.” Idalyn finished. She did not add the silent, ‘or whenever they find out’. She knew that gossip and tabloids would follow the news of her reengagement- of course it would, she’d been widowed prenuptially and betrothed to her first fiance’s sister. It made for a bad reputation and a good scandal. She couldn’t afford to care, not when the livelihoods of the civilians scandalizing her hinged on this very marriage.

“Send for a shuttle.” Idalyn instructed. “And find someone to pack my things.” As she scanned the gray monotony of her room, it dawned on her that she might never return home again. Despite the fact she and Kiida held the same technical rank as planetary scions, she was the clear inferior party in the marriage, and would be expected to move to Mirador with her new life. She was giving Khasep away, just to save it.

She realized she would miss Khasep. She would miss the cool grays of her palace home, the only home she’d ever known. She’d miss the deep, rich tones of the tapestries that hung from the rafters, the way her footsteps echoed through the grand, open halls. She’d miss Khasep in all its rocky, dismal glory- the way the cold, violent waves crashed against the shore, the way the misty sun rose over the mountainous horizon. Idalyn knew not what awaited her on Mirador- she didn’t even know what Mirador was like. Even through her long betrothal to Masean, she had never visited the wealthy planet. Masean had never visited Khasep. But now, she would leave her cold, empty home forever, and start a new life with a woman she’d learnt the name of earlier that day.

None of this was going to plan. But she had to keep moving on. Idalyn buried the feelings of longing, nostalgia and fear that would compromise her plans. She would not allow her weakness to become her. Just as her servants had their duties to protect her and her guards had the duty to serve her, she, too, had a duty to serve her people. She could not falter.

“I’ve made arrangements for a skiff to pick us up tomorrow.” Gwydyce said coolly. While Idalyn had drifted into contemplation, he’d been hard at work shifting through holograph windows projected from his own implant. “I’ll admit, I had to pull a few strings, though I’m afraid it was necessary.”

“Oh, thank the stars.” Idalyn let out a relieved sigh, something she’d only feel comfortable doing around her most trusted advisors, and nearly collapsed onto her plush bed.

“Gwydyce, you will come to me to Mirador, won’t you?” She hated the way her frailty was apparent in her voice, but she could barely speak even with it. She needed to know if the only father she’d had would remain at her side, at least through this final step. “At least through the wedding?”

“Don’t worry,” Gwydyce replied. His tone was quiet, reassuring. The same tone he’d taken when she was seven years old and afraid of the ghosts of the parents that’d been torn from her. “I’ll stay as long as I can.”

As long as he could. They both knew that while she would remain on Mirador, he would have to return to Khasep and rule in her stead. The exact agreement would be determined on Mirador, no doubt by a primarily Miradi council of diplomats, but it was practically a given that she would not return to her home. Partners of Miradi Princeps did not return to their home planets.

She leaned towards Gwydyce, and let him rest his hand over the back of her head like he had when she was a child. Into the ruffle of his fine coat, she murmured. “Will I be okay?”

“Of course you will, Alyn.” He held her close in the way she could not remember her actual father doing. “You always know what to do, don’t you?”

chapter 2

Adrenaline raced through Kiida’s veins as she weaved her way through the racecourse, hanging every turn a bit too long, just for show. Her audience didn’t need to know she’d memorized the route. A few mistakes would make it more enjoyable, especially when she took the medal in the end. It would be a better show.

The seaspray splashed against her helmet’s visor, threatening to blind her completely if the glass didn’t hold up, but it was no matter to Kiida. Not only had she memorized the course, all the racer’s visors were configured to display a layout of the course through holograph projection. It reminded Kiida, she needed to look into the underground ‘blindfolded’ races done in the less-reputable circles of Midacous. Her father wouldn’t approve, of course, but honestly, he’d never really approved of her doing the legal races, and what Kiida’s father didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

As they neared the end of the racecourse, on the last lap, Kiida made an effort to make her turns tighter and her passes less sloppy. She’d been solidly in second place for quite some time now, only being momentarily eclipsed by any of the four racers vying for third. At the top, it was only her, and the racer currently leading. They wore a rose-colored racing jacket, with a sort of dolphin motif patterned onto their jetskiff. From the beginning of the race till now, Kiida had simply been playing with them, letting them get a taste of victory. She’d never raced against this competitor before. It was time to show them what she was really capable of.

Kiida pressed her body further towards her jetskiff, limbs tightly hugging its hull. She pressed on the accelerator, building just enough speed to not make her opponent wary just yet. The pink-vested racer faltered on the last turn- overestimating the angle by the slightest margin. It was Kiida’s cue to move in. As the other racer wasted precious seconds righting their course, she swept past and crossed the finish line.

“WOO!” Kiida cheered as she passed over the finish line, though the intensity of her voice was muffled by her helmet. The scoretracking drones beeped as they registered her victory- her seventh in the season, and they hadn’t even reached the annual tournament.

As Kiida neared the shore, she pulled off her helmet, waiting thrilled to see the voices of her fans. The only people she’d been able to drag out this early had been her siblings and cousins- twelve of them, lined up in a row to cheer her on. They nearly outnumbered the racers.

The round Kiida had just won had hardly been a formal match, but it didn’t stop Kiida from reveling in the victory. She drove her jetskiff along the shore in a miniature victory parade, waving to her family members cheering her on. As the other racers crossed the finish line, she drove her jetskiff to shore

“You did wonderfully, Kiida!” A young audience member raced to embrace Kiida as she dismounter her cycle-sized watercraft. It was Theta, Kiida’s youngest and favorite sister. At fourteen, Theta had not yet developed the square build their family was known for, but even with her spindly frame she had the warm brown skin and russet curls of a Qai’Synada. “That move at the end- it was so cool!”

“Thea, I do that move every time!” Kiida could help but burst into laughter as she swung her sister around. Theta clung to her like a monkey. Kiida rustled her hair. “You’ve watched me so many times, I bet you could list off every move I’ve ever pulled off.”

“Oh, but I could!” Theta laughed as Kiida set her down. She brushed her hair out of her round face. “I actually have a record of all your races- at least, all the ones I’ve seen. I just didn’t want to bring it to the beach, because it could’ve gotten wet.”

“Ha! No one comes to races like you do, Thea!” Kiida laughed again, then turned to face the shore, where the other racers were just now beaching.

The first to the shore was the second-place victor, the racer in the pink jacket. They pulled off their helmet and revealed their identity as Kiida’s second cousin, Muna. Of course, Kiida already knew who they were. After years of knowing each other, Muna had only expressed their interest in skiff-racing a few weeks ago. Of course, Kiida was ecstatic, and had instantly invited her distant cousin to a match. She’d been pleasantly surprised. Muna was a shy, reflective type, not the type of person one thought of as a jetskiff racer. Their skills were impressive, though- hell, they’d nearly beat Kiida.

“Great job, Mun!” Kiida gave her cousin a thumbs-up as they made it to shore. “You’re better than I thought you’d be!”

“Maybe I’ll win next time.” Muna winked, and left to tend to their skiff- checking over its various parts. The other racers came into shore- all Kiida’s younger siblings and cousins. They gathered with the other members of the audience, a few coming to congratulate Kiida themselves. Nikolai, one of Kiida’s younger brothers, was already calling back the scorecounter drones and packing up the buoys that formed the floating racecourse. The less evidence they left, the better.

Kiida was the second oldest of their little racing group, and definitely the highest ranked of the bunch. Therefore, all command was relented to her. This gaggle of misfit heirs and minor princeps all looked to her for advice. She was the barrier that kept them from punishment, and she’d take the blame for anything they’d get caught for. She’d never received any real consequences, after all. The worst her father would do was to lock her in her room for a few days, and he still hadn’t figured out how she climbed down the vines outside her window.

She resented how, at twenty-six, she was still treated like an unruly child. Kiida knew her father would never really trust her, that’s why he’d never given her a military position even though she’d graduated years ago. She relented by acting as immature as she could. That meant organizing secret racing clubs, getting drunk at formal functions, and fucking anyone who’d be willing to. If her father wanted to see her as a reckless, stupid low-life for the rest of his life, well, Kiida wasn’t going to argue with a dying man.

As Nikolai finished gathering all the racecourse materials, Kiida turned to the gathered group. She raised her voice so everyone would be able to hear her and announced, “Okay, everyone! I think that’s all we’re doing today, yeah?”

Her question was met with affirmative cheering.

“Yeah!!” She replied. “Well, we’re all a bit tired and baked in the sun, so let’s head back home, yeah?”

Though the Gilded Palace of the Miradi capital was built on Midacous’s rocky shores, it was far from the beach Kiida raced on. Kiida had chosen the racing location specifically- it was close enough to get there easily, and far enough her father would never know. She and the other racers parked their skiffs in a private water-garage Kiida had bought with her own money, and they all took the hovertrolly back to the palace.

Only when she was crossing over the palace’s threshold did Kiida pull her cream-colored officers coat over her sopping, sea-water drenched wetsuit. It hardly did anything to disguise where she’d been, given the fabric got soaked the moment it touched her skin, but at least she wouldn’t be berated for immodesty.

Instead of entering through the palace’s main entrance, Kiida had led her siblings and cousins through one of the side entrances, one primarily used by servants and delivery drones. It meant she wouldn’t be stopped by the guards or later berated for poor manners, but it also meant she couldn’t avoid Lady Ai’Cyeara.

Lady Tameci Seleph Ai’Cyeara was the principal housekeeper of the Gilded Palace, and had been carefully selected by Kiida’s father thirty years ago. That meant she’d been in the palace longer than Kiida had, something she never ceased to remind her of. She was a short, round woman with softer features that indicated her heritage from the Miradi south. Lady Ai’Cyeara wore her heart on her sleeve and her rank designation pinned to her blouse, and she currently looked very unhappy to see Kiida.

“Princep Kiida!” Lady Ai’Cyeara rushed up to Kiida, her skirts gathered up in her fists to allow for ease of movement.

“Oh, calm down, Lady Tames.” Kiida laughed off the older woman as she approached her, in an already-failing attempt to diffuse her anger. “I checked on my schedule this morning before I left. I didn’t miss anything too important.”

A few of her younger cousins snickered behind her.

“You know, Kidda, someone spends a lot of their time perfectly organizing that schedule for you. Someday, you might pay them the gratitude of following it.” Lady Ai’Cyeara retorted. She took a second glance over Kiida and her posse, and- “Where were you- were you jetskiffing?”

Kiida threw her hands up in surrender. “Aw, Lady Tames, it was just a bit of fun!”

“Jetskiffing! You know how your father feels about that sort of thing- what if someone sees you-”

“We were on a private beach-”

“-And you brought along your baby cousins, the future heirs of this house-”

“-None of them are babies anymore, Tames-”

“-And it hasn’t even been a month since your brother died!”

That was the end of Kiida’s quick, rehearsed responses. She had nothing to say in the face of the truth- Masean was dead.

She didn’t mourn him like she thought she should’ve. Kiida had never been especially close with her eldest brother- she had grown up around so many relatives, it had been hard to be close to them all. And Masean had been almost ten years her senior, and he’d always been more reserved than she had.

Yet, even though she moved through life free of the drudgery of grief that plagued other members of her family, she still felt the shockwaves. In the night, she’d wake from fitful sleeps drenched in her own sweat, cold from terror. In her waking hours, she could go about her days normally, until someone reminded her, or she noticed his absence. It hit her like someone ripping out her heart would hit her. She just couldn’t wrap her head around the fact he was really gone.

Kiida stepped back from the housekeeper, and brushed her russet curls away from her face. “I’m sorry, Tames. I shouldn’t have.”

“I should be the one apologizing, Princep. I shouldn’t’ve used your grief like that.” Lady Ai’Cyeara calmed down, an apologetic frown on her face. She gave Kiida a gentle, grandmotherly pat on the shoulder, having to reach up to do so. “Though, you still shouldn’t have gone jetskiffing.”

Suddenly, Lady Ai’Cyeara perked up, having just remembered something. “Oh, Princep Kiida, that reminds me! The Duchess wanted to speak to you!”

Kiida fought back a groan. Nothing good ever came from her stepmother wanting to speak with her. “What for?”

While her younger relatives enjoyed the rest of their day, Kiida was whisked away into her rooms, cleaned up from her morning on the water, and fit into the fanciest suit they could still pass off as not-formalwear. Even as she made her way to the reception hall, her aide, Faavi, continued to berate her about her appearance.

“Kiida, your hair’s a mess!” Faavi reached up to try and correct it, then yelped in surprise as Kiida swiftly brushed him off.

“Aw, don’t worry, Fav. They won’t mind.” Kiida replied nonchalantly. She wondered if she walked slow enough, her stepmother would forget whatever she wanted to say to her.

“They will.” Faavi frowned. “And hurry up! You’re going to be late!”

Kiida was abruptly stopped before the grand doors to the reception hall. Horns sounded as they opened for her, and her full name was read by some announcer. Kiida stepped into the hall to face the remainder of her family.

The Gilded Palace’s reception hall was the heart of the entire opulent complex, with golden walls and wide, open windows that looked out onto the rocky shore. At the far end of the hall was where her father had once held court, and where her stepmother now sat in his place. Kiida’s only remaining elder brother, Alvar, was there with his pregnant wife Aredoir, as was a gaggle of her stepmother’s aides. Red mourning banners hung from the rafters, each embroidered with Masean’s name.

Her stepmother- the Duchess Septima Aleph Qai’Unara- sat on the throne, encircled by its multitude of golden rings, like the planet Mirador itself. She wasn’t that much older than Kiida herself- about the age Masean had been, and was fair of face and hair. Kiida had never liked her, and she had never liked Kiida, but now that the Duke was ill, someone had to fill in for him, and Masean was too dead to fit the bill.

Kiida bowed before the throne-step, and pressed her hand to her forehead to indicate respect she didn’t actually have for her stepmother.

“Rise, Princep.” The duchess commanded, and Kiida did so.

“Duchess Septima,” Kiida said, not caring if it wasn’t proper for her to speak yet. “I’ve been told you have something to speak with me about?”

Yes.” Kiida’s stepmother nodded, looking vaguely annoyed, and called forth one of her aides. The lanky, dark-haired political aide hastily rushed to his Duchess’s side and projected an image forth from his wrist implant. It was a stillframe of a woman, with deep skin and almost-indigo hair woven into a thousand tiny braids. Her eyes were large and deep, and her face was thin- not in a way that suggested sickness, but in a way that caught the cool light of her surroundings in just the right way. She had full, pouting lips and a wide nose, and was wearing a fine gown just a few shades lighter than her hair. Kiida had seen a lot of pretty people in her day, yet somehow, this one took her breath away. She just wished she knew why she was being shown this woman. Perhaps, she was a visiting dignitary she had to try extra hard to impress?

The Duchess informed her coldly, “This is your betrothed.”

Oh.

…

“What?”

“Do I really need to repeat myself?” Kiida’s stepmother sneered. “What, do you have water in your ears?”

“No! No!” Kiida reassured, gesturing her arms about so wildly she thought she might end up tearing her suit. “I- I’m just, confused is all. My betrothed?”

“Yes.” The Duchess said, and rolled her eyes as if Kiida had committed some great offense by asking about the fiancee she hadn’t previously known existed. “Her name is Idalyn Khatisya, Prima Khasepa of the planet Khasep.” A pause. “Originally, she was to be wed to your elder brother, but with the… recent developments, we’ve had to make some arrangements.”

“What? Why?” Kiida couldn’t keep her voice low. Why was her dead brother’s fiancee being pawned off to her? “I thought I wasn’t even eligible for the marriage market yet!”

“Really? Kiida, you compete in the courtship tournaments every year!”

“That’s just sports, Septima!”

The Duchess rolled her eyes again. “Regardless, the Emperor needs a marriage to fully integrate Khasep into the Empire, and without Masean, you’re as good as we’ve got.”

“Stars Above…” Kiida swore. She couldn’t stare anywhere but the gilded floor beneath her. She wasn’t supposed to get married! She was only the third in line, and she’d intentionally crafted a shit reputation, and she still had a life to live! Couldn’t they understand that? Didn’t she get any say in being pawned off to her dead brother’s fiancee? Or was she really just a political pawn in her father’s game for the Emperor’s favor?

Kiida’s stepmother paid little mind to her anguish. She continued, “She is arriving here in a week. A few days of festivities and preparation will follow, and after that the wedding in ten day’s time. During that time you will behave yourself. I will not let you make a fool of yourself on your own wedding day.”

Kiida could vomit. If she had any less self-composure than she did now, she would’ve. Not only was she just now being informed that she was supposed to get married, she was being informed she was getting married in ten days?

She’d known this day would come eventually. Her older brothers and even some of her younger ones were all being paired off already. It wouldn’t be long til she, too, would play her part as a pawn in the Emperor’s political game.

She just hadn’t expected it to be like this.

“Why?” Kiida said through choked-down sobs. “Why are you doing this to me?”

The Duchess’s reply was cold and vacant. “Because we all have a duty, Princep.”

chapter 3

The days leading to the Prima Khasepa’s arrival passed for Kiida in a sick, anticipatory daze. She vomited three more times than she’d be comfortable telling anyone, and spent more time in bed then she had since she was seventeen.

For the first few hours after receiving the news, she’d been ablaze with just rage.

“Ten days!” Kiida had relentlessly paced her room after coming back from the Duchess, shouting at the top of her lungs. She hadn’t even cared that she’d get reprimanded for being loud later. “Ten days, and they expect me to marry some woman I’ve never even met before!”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad…” Faavi had attempted to calm her down from her position by Kiida’s desk. It might as well have been her desk, given that Kiida never used it herself.

“Fav!” Kiida shouted at her aide in the way she could only shout at her friends. She’d known Faavi since she was a young girl. Her aide had been born to one of Mirador’s high-class but not old-money merchant families, and they’d met at one of Kiida’s father’s fancy galas when they’d been children. As children, they’d been inseparable and after Faavi earned his Political Science degree, Kiida had offered him a job working for her. Faavi was Kiida’s closest friend, but it didn’t mean he didn’t say stupid things from time to time. “It is that bad! You’re not the one getting married!”

Faavi just rolled his eyes and brushed a lock of his straight, jet hair off his shoulder. If Kiida had been any less distraught, she might’ve laughed. Instead, she ran her hands through her hair and continued pacing the length of her room.

“Ten days, and my life is over!” Kiida shouted. “I’ll be- I’ll be settled down, with my Partner, and- Oh, god, what if she wants kids? I can’t be a mother!”

Overwhelmed by emotion, Kiida laid herself down on the floor and gathered herself into the fetal position. She felt that, if she spent any more time on her feet, she’d empty her guts onto the fine tile floor, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle the humiliation if that happened. “They can’t do this to me…”

Faavi stood up from Kiida’s desk chair and neared her, putting a gentle hand over Kiida’s shoulder. “Kiida, you’re spiraling. You’re going to hyperventilate.” He was always so direct. Kiida appreciated that about her aide. “Take a few deep breaths with me, please.”

Kiida had followed her aide in the calming routine, and had shortly after passed into a deep sleep on her downy bed.

Throughout the four days that immediately followed, Kiida fell into a hazey, nightmarish routine of sleeping in far later than she should’ve, only getting up to eat food Favi brought in for her, and spending the rest of the day staring at the canopy of her bed till the sun set. Then, she’d sob into her silken pillowcase until she passed out from dehydration. It was horrible. Kiida had the urge to go out and do something. She knew she should’ve been enjoying her last few days of freedom, but she couldn’t. Even when she thought of the revelry she could be enjoying, she’d become sick with dread and worry, and would be unable to do anything but sit around.

On the fifth day since Kiida had learnt of her engagement, Faavi decided she’d moped around enough. He arrived at her door that morning not with the greasy takeout she’d been having him bring to her the past few days, but with a container of fresh fruit and a plan. Despite Kiida’s complaints, and the fact she was nearly twice as heavy as he was, he all but dragged her to the shower and waited outside the bathroom til she was clean enough for his standards.

To Kiida’s chagrin, the shower really did help. While she stood in the hot steam, with water pelting the back of her neck and her shoulders, the pressure of her worry seemed to melt. It didn’t disappear entirely, but it transformed into something smaller. Something more manageable. She was getting married still, in less than two weeks, but it wasn’t the complete end of the world.

After her shower, Faavi had Kiida dress in fresh clothes- in his words, ‘Nothing too fancy, but even a clean sweatshirt is worlds better than what you have on’. What Kiida had on was a rumpled tank top and pair of sweatpants she’d been wearing for the past few days, so she had to agree.

Once Kiida had bathed and changed and eaten all the melon Faavi had brought her, her aide set her a new task:

“Find out anything you can about your new fiancee.” He suggested cooly, while Kiida had a mouthful of melon. “You’re probably even more stressed, because you’re marrying a stranger. While you’re not in a position to change who you’re marrying, you can certainly make her less of a stranger.”

And so, Kiida did just that. She’d never really been one for research on her own, but with Faavi’s help she was able to compile sources and information regarding her new fiancee. Kiida learnt that Idalyn had been born in Khasei Ciati twenty-five years ago, that she’d studied politics from a young age, and that she had absolutely no siblings or other close relatives her age. She learnt (perhaps most importantly), where Khasep was on the map of the Emperor’s galaxy- firmly within the middle reaches, a week’s travel from Mirador. She learnt what Khasep was like- scrolled through stillframe upon stillframe of its spiked gray mountains and desolate landscape.

All Idalyn’s biographies- the ones Kiida could find using the Imperial search engines, at least, listed off her information with a cold sterility Kiida hoped she, herself, would never have the displeasure of being portrayed in. She learned a million facts about Idalyn’s life, from her primary school to her net worth to her speculative genetic makeup, yet nothing she learnt told her anything about the woman. After three days of nothing but research, Kiida woefully resigned herself to the fact she wouldn’t know until she met her fiancee, face-to-face. The only thing keeping her from slipping back into her depressive daze was the fact she was running out of time to become that pathetic again.

Because on the seventh day- a full week since Kiida had been told she was to be married in the first place, the Prima Khasepa arrived on Mirador.

Idalyn paced restlessly as her entourage approached Mirador, unable to shake the growing feeling of dread that’d consumed her the past few days.

The skiff, while some of Khasep’s most luxurious craftsmanship, was not enough to keep her contained, just as her body wasn’t enough to keep her nerves contained. Idalyn had spent the last week in the shuttle’s ivory-and-gild interior furnishings, looking out its synthglass windows into the dead void of space. She’d spent drowsy days and restless nights there, counting the breaths til they arrived on Mirador. And now, they were almost there.

Idalyn had to keep herself from hovering over the pilot’s shoulder and pressing her face to the synthglass like a child. Mirador was a sight to behold.

Idalyn had only traveled around Khasep’s local system before, and once had visited the neighboring space station Bairos-K7 for a diplomatic visit with the Baisoura trading clan. That meant that, before this moment, the largest body she’d seen from space had been her home. Khasep was a gray sphere of rocky landmasses and slate, frozen seas. Its cities lit up in a luminous silver, its rural regions as dark as night.

Mirador was nothing like Khasep. It was bigger- Idalyn had known that previously, yet she was convinced she could tell just by looking at it. The land of Mirador was a warm terracotta brown, its seas the rich blue of turquoise. Airy, cottony clouds swirled around it, like someone had gone up close to it with a wet paintbrush and just shook it. Its cities lit up like shining spiderwebs of gold against the pitch of the space-night. Mirador was nothing like Idalyn’s home, and yet she had to keep reminding herself that soon, it would be.

“Projected arrival in two hours, Prima.” The co-pilot announced, looking up to Idalyn as if they sensed her apprehension. These sorts of shuttle skiffs were only ever manned by a small, three-person crew, two pilots and a mechanic. The lack of added personnel was a blessing- Idalyn didn’t know what she’d do if more people had to witness her in this distraught state.

The only other passenger aboard the ship was Idalyn’s trusted advisor, Gwydyce. He’d initially suggested bringing a larger party, but the size of the skiff they’d chartered and Idalyn’s anxieties about potentially showing up her betrothed had prevented that hypothetical. Gwydyce rose from his swiveling passenger’s seat and approached Idalyn.

“Prima, steady yourself.” He chided, attempting to dab her sweaty forehead with his handkerchief and not even batting an eye when she pushed his arm away.

“I am steady.” Idalyn took in a breath- through her nose, out her mouth- and reviewed the plan for when they landed. She would exit her shuttle onto the Midacousian promenade. She would walk by foot to Gilded Palace, and up its many gilded steps. She would meet with the Duke Miradi, and she would address the people of the planet she would soon call home- or at least, she would address the press. She would be formally introduced to her betrothed.

Somehow, that scared Idalyn the most. All the rest- the ceremonial walking and the press meeting and even speaking with the Duke, she could handle. She was used to such formal, ceremonial things; she knew how to handle them and how to prepare herself for them. Yet meeting the woman who was to be her partner still remained a daunting task. She couldn’t prepare herself for something like that, not with the bubble of nerve that rose in her throat.

This had to go well. The fate of her homeland- the fate of everything and everyone she knew- rested upon her marriage going well. She could not afford it to go wrong, even if she had to fight for it.

Despite Idalyn’s nerves, the hours to landing passed swiftly and smoothly. Before she knew it, the skiff had punctured through Mirador’s atmosphere and navigated towards the capital city of Midacous. The shuttle landed with a gentle thump, then the hissing of the exhaust, and then it was Idalyn’s cue to leave. She gathered her long, formal coat over the long, formal dress she was already wearing, checked her braids in the mirror one last time, and got in place by the door.

As the skiff’s hatch door hissed open, a symphony of trumpets sounded. Idalyn had read extensively of the Miradi custom of playing noise at the arrival of an important person, yet the noise startled her all the same. Her name was read off by an announcer, and she began to walk.

The Miradi sun beat harshly against Idalyn’s head and shoulders, and particularly any area covered by her thick, dark Khasepean robe. She now understood why the Miradi dressed in white for all formal occasions. The walk from the landing bay to the Gilded Palace was not a particularly long one, yet tradition ordained that it be done slowly, one foot gliding neat before the other. That, alone, made it miserable. Gwydyce walked directly behind her, followed by the two pilots who now served as ceremonial- and, if anything were to happen, practical- bodyguards. On either side of the promenade stood gaggles of reporters, snapping stillframes and videotapes of her arrival on Mirador. A few of the more courageous journalists shouted questions her way, “Prima Khasepa, how do you feel about your new fiance?” and “Prima, do you think it’s improper to wed so soon after the death of your betrothed?”. Idalyn didn’t answer them, she’d been trained too well not to.

As Idalyn ascended the gilt stairs to the palace, she was surprised to find not the brown-skinned, broad-shouldered Duke Eiyresal waiting for her, but a lithe woman of pallid yellow skin and hair to match, wearing a simple white gown with straps threatening to fall off her shoulders. She smiled coldly as Idalyn approached.

“Greetings, Prima Khasepa.” The strange pale woman dove into a graceful curtsey the moment Idalyn reached even ground with her. “It is my pleasure to welcome you to our gracious city of Midacous.”

“The pleasure is all mine,’ Idalyn replied formally. “Though, forgive me for the intrusion, but I thought I was to speak with Duke Eiyresal upon my arrival.”

The woman pouted. “Ah, yes, what a shame… the Duke’s health prevented him from leaving his chambers today. I stand in his place as his wife, and Duchess of Mirador.”

Idalyn raised an eyebrow, suddenly realizing who she was speaking to. Septima Aleph Qai’Sulache, a thirty-five year old former actress from Mirador’s western hemisphere, had a galactic reputation of being a manipulative, flashy, golddigger, a scorn on Mirador’s once-pristine reputation. While Idalyn did not believe the most dastardly rumors surrounding the young Duchess, she still felt wary in her presence, and somewhat indignant that she hadn’t been greeted by the Duke himself. “I see. My condolences, and wishes for his good health.”

“Thank you, Prima. I hope that one day, my husband will be able to meet his soon-to-be daughter in law.” Septima’s toothy grin grew across her features, pulling her facial skin taught like rubber. “Was your trip alright?”

“It was fine.” Idalyn replied flatly. The trip had gone as well as any week-long space transit could, but her exhaustion was getting to her. She shifted anxiously, and waited for the moment the Duchess would introduce her betrothed.

“Wonderful.” Septima continued smiling, and Idalyn realized what she was doing. Septima was stalling her, attempting to make her feel weak. She wanted to hold power over Idalyn, to make her fear her. Idalyn was not so easily coyed, but if Septima didn’t introduce the Princep Idalyn was to wed, she would be stuck on the stage forever. Idalyn was being made to wait out her misery, in front of the eyes of all of Mirador. “Now, Prima, have you ever visited-”

“I would like to meet my betrothed, now.” Idalyn said, keeping her voice as steady as she could. She kept it low- hopelessly trying to avoid the hearing range of the reporter drones clouding around her. If this was interpreted the wrong way, it could cause scandal- the Prima Khasepa, talking back to the Duchess of Mirador on the eve of the wedding that would unite their two worlds. But Idalyn could handle such a scandal. She just needed to get this over with.

Septima’s bony face displayed a look of stunned shock for only a moment, before it was replaced by the exact same smile that she’d shown previously, save for the eyes. The Duchess’s eyes- previously cold but neutral, and slipped into a chilled deviousness. “Of course, Prima Khasepa.”

She turned to the crowd of reporters, addressing the drones more than the people. “I introduce the third Heir to the Duchy of Mirador, Ternary Princep of house Synada, Her Grace Kiida Aleph Qai’Synada!”

The heavy palace doors opened and, accompanied by the singing of horns, Idalyn’s betrothed walked out onto the stage.

Kiida had initially looked surprised that the doors opened in the first place, but quickly regained a sense of confident swagger, walking out to face the world with a rehearsed swagger, even a charismatic dusting off-the-shoulder off her spotless white uniform. She faced the crowd with a crooked, toothy smile, and dropped into a swift, sloppy bow. She waved at the camera drones. She did finger guns.

Idalyn had immediately recognized Kiida as the woman she’d received stillframes and biographies of. Even if the woman hadn’t been announced, Idalyn would’ve been able to recognize her. Every fact she’d read, everything she’d been able to determine from the stillframes, was embodied in the woman- in her appearance, in her demeanor, in her heavens-damned finger guns. And she was to marry this woman.

After addressing the crowd, Kiida abruptly turned to face Idalyn, spinning on her heels and dropping into another bow. At least she had a sense for etiquette. “Prima Khasepa, it is my pleasure to finally meet you.”

Idalyn let her betrothed wrap her hand around hers, and fell into a graceful curtsey. “The pleasure is mine, Princep.” Courtesy failed her. She hadn’t rehearsed what else to say. “I look forward to the time we will spend together in the near future.”

Something briefly shifted in Kiida’s expression, and for a moment Idalyn was sure the Princep was going to act on it, when the Duchess Septima interrupted. She took one of each of their hands in her cold, boney ones.

“All blessings to the joyous partners! All blessings for a happy marriage!”

Idalyn turned to face the crowd with her, and tried as best as she could to hide how sick she felt.

chapter 4

After the initial reception, Kiida led her fiancee through the halls of the Gilded Palace. Idalyn Khatisya did not say a word to her as they walked, only gracefully following a few steps behind her. Nevertheless, Kiida pointed out anything she thought the woman might want to know about.

“You’ll be staying in your own quarters for these first few days,” Kiida informed her fiancee, reciting directly what she’d been told by Faavi that morning. “After the wedding, you’ll move in with me. They just don’t want to risk us being together premaritally and all. Tradition, I guess.” It was a stupid tradition, Kiida thought. She’d had countless partners before Idalyn, and no one was expecting a political marriage to bear much fruit in that department. Idalyn was pretty, sure, but she gave off a very clear ‘I’m not into you’ aura that Kiida could decipher within only minutes of being around her.

Kiida briefly glanced back to make sure Idalyn had heard her. She was so stiff, so cold- just as still in real life as she had been in the stillframes. Stars, Kiida didn’t know what she could do. She didn’t know how she was going to marry a woman who didn’t even smile.

A full minute after Kiida had imparted the rather-useful information onto Idalyn, she was granted a response.

“And where will I be staying? Before the marriage?”

“Guest quarters. They’re adjacent to my apartment.”

Idalyn nodded, and that was the end of that conversation.

As she led the Prima Khasepa down the palace’s gilded, open halls, Kiida found it difficult to push away her dread. Now that Idalyn was here, everything suddenly had become so much more real. No longer could she avoid thinking about the future, or make false plans for things she knew she wouldn’t be able to do, or pretend she’d misheard her stepmother entirely. Now, she had a fiancee around to remind her just how screwed over she’d been. A fiancee who wouldn’t say a kind word to her.

“Sooo…” Kiida attempted smalltalk again. “That way’s the ocean. If you go down the big stairs, then turn left at the pavilion with all the umbrellas, you can find a nice little outlet to my family’s private beach.”

Idalyn remained silent. If she had heard, she hadn’t cared enough to reply.

Kiida searched for something else to add that might make Idalyn more interested, even a little. “My friends and I go down there sometimes. For parties and stuff.”

Idalyn waited long before replying, but eventually did.

“Do you have many friends?”

“Oh, yeah, lots.” Kiida answered immediately. She led Idalyn up the flight of stairs that took them to the fourth floor, where the Royal Family’s private residences were. “Most are military. I was real popular when I was in school, ya know?”

Idalyn did not reply to Kiida with the enthusiasm- or even the interest- she had hoped for. Kiida had to fight to keep herself from visibly upsetting. She tried a different approach.

“Do you have a lot of friends?”

“Not many. I have a few.”

Kiida only had to endure a few more minutes of the terrible, lackluster conversation before they reached the apartment Idalyn would be staying in. Just as she had previously described, it was adjacent to Kiida’s own, larger apartment. It was a nice set of rooms, Kiida knew, with a balcony that looked over the sea. She unlocked the heavy door and handed Idalyn the key.

“The smaller key is for the adjoining door between your quarters and my place.” She explained when Idalyn inspected it. “You can use it or not, depends on what you want to do.”

“Thank you,” Idalyn said in that flat, nasally tone Kiida was beginning to understand as her normal speaking tone.

Kiida lingered a bit longer as Idalyn stepped into the room, letting her the space to inspect it to her liking. Idalyn seemed like the type of person who liked to inspect things.

“Oh, also-” Kiida interrupted the silence she had given Idalyn, suddenly remembering something else. “Tonight there’s a feast in the Grand Hall. We’re meant to go together, cause it’s in our honor and all. Formalwear required.”

"The engagement formal, I assume?” Idalyn hummed.

“No, actually, that’s a few days from now. This is just a welcome reception to celebrate your arrival to Mirador.” Kiida rehearsed, again just repeating what Faavi had told her earlier.

“Oh. I understand.”

Kiida waited for Idalyn to say anything else, and when she didn’t, awkwardly coughed into her own hand. “Well, uh. That’s all I have to say, I should probably leave you to your own business now. You’re probably all… tired from your trip, and everything.”

Idalyn just stared at her, not saying anything to make the conversation smoother.

Kiida began backing out the door. “Well, uh, if you need anything else, feel free to contact me- I’m sure you’ve already got my comm in your implant and all… and you can also get in touch with my aide, Faavi. Either’s good. Yeah. Bye. I’ll be back to pick you up for dinner at seven.”

To avoid the potency of Idalyn’s cold glare, Kiida shut the door as soon as she had passed through it, and moved down the hallway all the while cursing herself for her own awkwardness.

After her fiance had left, Idalyn took the time to inspect her new living quarters. The room was about the same size as her living chamber on Khasep had been, if furnished and organized quite differently. The desk was oriented on the western wall, rather than the southern one, and the bed faced sunrise-east in typical Miradi fashion. There was a wide open living space for Idalyn to host company if she ever wished, and a balcony that looked out onto the sea.

The sea, more than anything, was what distracted Idalyn. More than the glittering Gilded Palace or the opulence of her assigned quarters, she saw the ocean as Mirador’s true jewel. There were oceans on Khasep, of course- gray and briny and cold oceans in the southern hemispheres, but Mirador’s seas were nothing like that. They were crystalline, aquamarine, shimmering like glass in the gilded noon. She stood on the balcony for an eternal moment, just watching the water ebb and flow from the warm, sandy shore, watching it crash against the terracotta rock formations framing the beach.

Once she had successfully pulled herself away from the mesmerizing ocean views, Idalyn sat at her desk- its design too ornate for her liking- and reviewed her plans for the negotiations tomorrow.

The Empire held power over her, over all her people. And yet, for some reason, they required something of her, something so important they’d matched her with one of their gilded few. Mirador was one of the Empire’s core planets, its scions important pawns in the Emperor’s political game. Idalyn had always known she was a pawn in the game for her nation’s freedom, but she was also the player. Her opponent, though, held all the cards, and all the guns. She’d have to move carefully, to bargain for what she could and live with the sacrifice of the rest. That was her duty, not only to herself, but for her people.

If she had to live in this, then so be it.

Kiida arrived back at Idalyn’s room a few hours later, just as she said she would. She’d changed from one cream-colored suit to a finer one more suited for nightwear, and had brushed some of her unruly curls into a more manageable form, but otherwise acted exactly the same. “Evening.” She said, half-awkwardly, half-confidently, as Idalyn emerged from her room in a low-cut