“There’s no money to worry about. Once I’ve the grapes, I’ll hire some workers, probably alien species like myself, to plant the seeds, trim the vines. Eventually, if your plans go well, then maybe there’ll be Hezara cultivating these fields, growing their own food.”
“Warriors don’t make good farmers.” He stood close to where the w
ater lapped on the shoreline. The sun had colored his cheeks red, but he looked younger under the Odesta sun, invigorated by the long trip and the expectation of finally delivering his long-held belief that Hezara and Earth could be proper allies.
“Well, not yet. In years to come, things will be different. Smaller armies fighting the pockets of Violence mean a new workforce on planets like Odesta. More Hezara females, and as girls grow into women, there will be no need for breeding queens. And I will help them learn... although, I need your help.” She joined him.
“Oh?”
“I actually don’t know much about wineries. Or growing grapes.”
He laughed. “I guess you want me to find out?”
“A few books, a manual. That kind of thing. And seeds, lots of seeds. If I can make decent wine, it will pay for the investment. I don’t need money. It’s useless here.”
He looped his arm over her shoulder and squeezed her. “This makes me proud, darling. I never thought you’d achieve so much. I will not only find you good seeds from the finest wineries on Earth, I’ll try to arrange somebody to come out on secondment. Imagine the prestige of that—somebody will snatch up the opportunity.”
“I just hope Hezarans will like wine.”
“Who doesn’t!”
They walked along the banks of the vast lake, the water glimmering under the dazzling sun. Shayla wore a floppy hat, shorts, and a shirt. More clothes fashioned by Nieve’s versatile friend. Encouraged by Shayla’s ambitions, the dressmaker had opened a shop, trading clothes in return for fish, which she gave to Nieve, who paid her back with food. Shayla suspected that some kind of money system would eventually be implemented. The ways of other worlds would finally impact Hezara, especially once their laws were updated to be less draconian.
“You definitely want to stay,” her father asked for the umpteenth time.
“Yes,” she said firmly. How could she consider leaving Jago and Kriss?
Eventually, they reached her home, the peculiar house she shared. Her nestors were at work, busy with the final preparations. Several queens were arriving in the next few days and Jago was supervising their visit. The long days had meant little time for conversation, let alone intimacy. Her father stayed in the city, in a fine guest house, protected by the judge who’d ordered Shayla’s punishment. Nobody mentioned that to Bert. Water under the bridge, best forgotten, she told Jago.
From now on, things would be different. She remained optimistic, especially as her father liked her nestors.
“I have to tell you something.” Her father accepted a glass of water and sat in the armchair. She sat at his feet; it seemed the right thing to do. So many years of distance, never quite knowing how to talk to him or what to expect from him. She’d blamed her mother for his aloofness, but that wasn’t fair. Relationships fell apart for many reasons, and neither of them had ever implied it was her mother’s fault.
“Yes?” She’d heard a faint trace of anxiety in his voice. Unusual for a diplomat who had mastered the art of hiding his emotions.
“I meant it when I said you’ve achieved so much. More than I anticipated.” He cleared his throat. “You see, Alfraya and I are lovers.”
Shayla gasped. She’d never suspected it, not a hint that the couple knew each other. “When?”
“Long after I left your mother and you joined the academy. Alfraya ensured that you would be paired with a queen’s guard, just so that you could gain some influence. I never expected this level of success. Can you forgive me?”
She rose, steadied herself. Such a burden he’d given her, a responsibility that relied on her sexuality as much as her curiosity.
She turned to face him. He wore a tortured expression. Now she saw the gray hairs sprouting on his head, the wrinkles under his eyes and around his lips. Perhaps not the best father in the world, but he was now trying to make amends.
“I thought she was with the Resistance.”
“She was, but after you met them, I convinced her that threats will never work. We fell in love. I went to see her, to make sure that she had your best interests at heart, and we bonded, as couples do when they have a common cause.”
“Common cause?”
“You.” He stood and collected her hands in his. “My darling, you are special. Courageous, beautiful, and strong.”
She withdrew and stepped back. He had kept secrets from her.
“Shayla?”
She remembered her nestors, their response to hearing Roisa speaking of the queen’s deception, and how they’d accepted the Hunger, allowed it to control their lives. Yet, they had not rebelled or turned their backs on Roisa. Instead, they had looked to the future and the opportunities that waited on the horizon for them, and Hezara. If they could move on, so could she, except...