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I must outwit the Queen at her own games by appealing to the only one who has more power than her—my father. Who has shunned and ignored me my entire life.

Juliet clings to my hand and even though we are not connected at the moment, we were so recently that I can still feel her. She is afraid but she stands tall beside me. She has greater strength than she knows.

I only pray to the ancients that I do not betray her trust by failing her now.

First waves his wrist in front of a sensor and the double doors to the Great Hall slide open. The chamber beyond seems much larger than in my memory. The oval-shaped room at the center of the ship was built as the one place in the ship for all of those among the royal caste and their court to come together at once.

But since it is empty now, our footsteps echo as we follow First down the tiled path to the ancient thrones that were saved from Draci. The entire chamber is decorated with mementos of our past. This room was also built to be a place of connection to the ancients. Draci-fired glass sculptures line the walls, from the most primitive to the intricate as our race grew in power and cultural refinement.

But my eyes are drawn only to those who sit on the thrones. A host of royal guards stand at attention behind them and servants hover around Father with trays of meats and pastries. He lounges on his throne, cup of rousi wine in one hand while he plucks from the delicacies on a tray with his other.

Beside him, however, the Queen sits as straight as if her spine were an arrow. Her eyes are cold and assessing as she evaluates Juliet and me.

It is as if I can feel her plotting from across the room. But I do not flinch nor look away. I meet her gaze and hold it the entire time we walk across the huge hall to stand in front of the intimidating thrones.

They are fashioned of molten gold but because they are ancient, they are also crude. Hoarding Draci always loved the shiniest minerals and thirty-two millennia ago, Draci began to form loose societies, which was when the thrones were first fashioned. Rumor is, they are dreadfully uncomfortable, but they are such a symbol of power and continuity with our past, rulers have continued to sit on them all this time.

Neither the King nor Queen says a word. Father continues to eat noisily and the Queen looks down her nose at us, obviously enjoying her superior power.

It is not permitted to speak before the King or Queen does.

But I realize too late that Juliet does not know this.

“Hi,” she says, giving a little wave, then biting her lip and dropping into an awkward curtsy. “I’m not sure how all this King and Queen stuff is supposed to go. But I’m Juliet and obviously this is Shak, but of course you know that already, seeing as he’s your son.”

By the ancients, every word that comes out of her mouth is worse than the one before. I squeeze her hand to try to signal her to stop talking but she must take it for encouragement because she only continues on.

“And yeah, so you guys’ whole knock-up-the-earth-chick thing, that worked out.” She laughs awkwardly and points at her belly. “I’ve got your grandbaby in here. Thrax the 10th or whatever number you guys are on now.”

The Queen’s eyes flare with fury and I must intervene before she lets loose her fire and kills Juliet on the spot.

I step in front of my mate. “What I believe my mate intends to say is that our greatest hopes have been achieved.”

I look to my father. “King Thraxcruhxas, might we beg your eternal mercy to look favorably upon the successful mission that you yourself initiated.”

He finally waves the food platters away and looks at me.

He is older than when I last saw him, much older. And he is not the fit, strong Draci King I remember. He is soft around the middle and the skin around his eyes and mouth now sags with age. He looks to be a century older than I know him to actually be.

Even his eyes are dull and slightly filmed over as if with cataracts. But when he looks at me, my own eyes burn, because how many times did I wish for this, only this? For my father to look upon me and say, “Thou hast done well, son.”

Even after all this time, I am anxious to hear his judgment upon me. It is foolish. He is but an old man and Juliet is my life now.

But I still strain, my heart racing as I wait upon his words.


Tags: Stasia Black Draci Alien Science Fiction