by M D Cooper
REGION: Orion Freedom Alliance, Perseus Arm
Pharis picked at her breakfast, struggling to find her appetite through the stressful turn of events.
How could Jeslan run off to Nebracken like that? The selfish nerve…
On the one hand, she was thrilled Jeslan wasn’t around to question her every move and drop threats about the various ways she’d take her down. With action finally taken, Pharis could begin making decisive movements rather than try to plan around unknowns. Unfortunately, the situation was quickly devolving into a nightmare scenario.
At first, she’d thought that Jeslan’s hatred for her had stemmed from a deep love of the Charlemis family, and a genuine concern that Pharis wouldn’t do the house justice. Truthfully, Pharis had experienced her own doubts about her ability to govern, as was natural for any young person still finding themselves. Deep down, though, she believed in her vision for the house, and felt she would be able to make it prosper. Even though Jeslan didn’t see that, she was entitled to her opinion.
Now, however, knowing that Jeslan had run away to be the puppet mistress of Silvan Nebracken, Pharis realized that Jeslan’s concerns were never about the family—they were only for her own selfish ambitions, and there was no place for Pharis in those plans. Her sister was a traitor to the family.
Doesn’t Mother see it? Jeslan wants to destroy us.
Anger bubbled just beneath the surface.
No, it was more than simple anger. I hate Jeslan, Pharis realized.
She couldn’t say she’d ever felt such intense loathing for anyone else except Silvan Nebracken. The fact that the two of them were now a couple only intensified the feeling.
Her stewing was interrupted by the dining room door opening, and she looked up to see her mother enter.
“Oh, good, you’ve made it out of bed before noon,” the older woman commented.
“Good morning,” Pharis replied, making only a small effort to fake a pleasant tone.
Justina sat down on the opposite side of the table, and servants hurried forward to bring her usual coffee preparation and preferred plate of fruit to begin the meal.
“You don’t look well,” her mother stated.
No thanks to your warm, motherly advice. Pharis stared at her plate. “I’m still trying to figure out how to feel about Jeslan.”
She caught the servants exchanging subtle looks of interest with each other. No doubt, the events had been the talk of the estate for the past week.
“She’s strong-willed,” Justina said.
“Aren’t you furious with her?” Pharis asked, wholly unsatisfied by her mother’s cryptic statement.
“Why should I be? You were once betrothed to Silvan. We had every plan to join the houses—as it turns out, it just won’t be through the daughter I’d originally planned.”
She had to fight to keep a surge of anger in check about the casual disregard of Jeslan’s rash actions. Had Pharis done the same with another house heir, she no doubt would have received a severe tongue-lashing.
“I think it’s extremely disrespectful to you,” she pressed.
“She’s pursuing an alliance to strength our family’s position.”
“You can’t believe that’s all she’s doing, Mother.”
Justina sighed. “Of course not. I know there are always agendas.”
Pharis dropped her fork on the plate with a clatter. “So why are you being so casual about this? You’ve always emphasized that House Charlemis is better off in isolation, looking after our own interests. Why, now of all times, are you okay with Jeslan going behind your back to forge a partnership with Silvan?”
“First, you assume it was without my knowledge. Secondly, you assume I am in full support of it.”
“Are you?”
“With what?”
“Okay with either!”
“I haven’t decided yet.” Her mother stabbed a piece of sliced fruit with her fork and took a dainty nibble.
“You…” Pharis was at a loss for words. How can she remain noncommittal on this? We need to take an official stand.
“There’s no rush to make a statement,” Justine continued. “They haven’t publicly announced an engagement, so we have nothing to communicate at this time. At present, their intentions only serve as a foundation for a strong future working relationship with House Nebracken.”
“That stance won’t hold up for long.”
Justina fixed her in a level gaze. “It will need to hold until I know whether you’re going to fight me on it. That is a conflict we don’t need.”
“I believe I’ve made my stance on House Nebracken quite clear. They’re a poison to the Ordus.”
“Don’t be so dramatic.”
Pharis motioned to the servants. “Can you give us a few minutes alone, please?”
They quickly bowed and scurried from the room, though they’d no doubt have their ears pressed to the other side of the door.
Her mother sighed. “There’s nothing to discuss.”
“Yes, there is.” Pharis rounded on her. “I’ve kept quiet and played along for sake of civility, but there’s a lot I’ve been wanting to say. The Ordus is backward and outdated in its thinking. We treat our people like they’re lesser beings, and it’s not right. You can have wealth and power without putting others beneath you.”
“Oh, Pharis, that goes to show how little you know about true power.”
“There are many types of power, Mother, and hiding away in a castle went out of fashion thousands of years ago. The way forward is for people to believe in you and want you as their leader.”
“Our way has been working just fine for the past two thousand years.”
“The power is fragile. Look no further than what’s happened with House Laurentia. The same could happen to us.”
Her mother groaned. “Hence the alliance with House Nebracken.”
“No!” Pharis pinched the bridge of her nose. “Their way of rule isn’t sustainable. I know it’s been that way ‘for thousands of years’, and it may seem like it could go on forever, but there are ancient forces that see the system is broken and want things to change. We have a chance to be a part of that movement. I don’t want to see our house caught on the wrong side.”
“Nor do I. You know full well I’ve always tried to keep us on the outside of house politics for this very reason—as much as possible, anyway.”
“Your silence is agreement when it comes to Jeslan shacking up with Silvan, don’t pretend it’s not. There doesn’t need to be a public announcement about their engagement for rumors to get started. Unless you declare she’s acting on her own, House Charlemis will be tied to whatever Nebracken does. And trust me, whatever they’re planning won’t be good for anyone except themselves.”
“I can’t denounce their involvement. That has too many negative implications.”
Pharis wished she could reveal everything she knew about the AI Dana and the forces working behind the scenes to stage big changes in the Ordus, but she didn’t remotely trust her mother with that information at present.
“Just…take my word for it for now,” she pleaded. “We don’t want to be aligned with Nebracken. Find a way to keep some distance.”
“I will make governance decisions as I see fit.”
She wanted to keep arguing, but when her mother had made up her mind, it was pointless to try to change her opinion without having new information. So she shoved back her plate and stood. “I’ll leave you to your day.”
“Pharis, we shouldn’t be working against each other.”
“No, we shouldn’t. When are you going to start treating me like your successor and not a child?”
“When you’re willing to acknowledge that wishful thinking has little place in real-life politics.”
“I’d urge you to remember that there are no advancements without dreams.”
Before Justina could retort, Pharis hurried from the room—passing by several servants who were scrambling to look busy
near the door.
Rosa, who’d been a close personal servant to Pharis her whole life, gave her a sympathetic look as she passed by. The heir motioned for her to follow into her suite, two corridors down.
“How may I assist, my lady?” Rosa asked.
“I’m not wrong, am I? We can’t trust them, right?”
“It’s not my place to comment.”
Pharis looked at her squarely. “You’ve heard as much as any advisor over the years. Really, I want to know what you think about the situation.”
Rosa checked that the door was closed and then stepped close to Pharis. “To speak freely, good riddance to your sister. I hope your mother begins treating you like the insightful young woman you’ve become.”
“I know she’s disappointed I don’t see things the way she does.”
“This family has been through a lot, dear. Your ancestors fought for your place at the High Table, and your mother needs to fight just as hard to hold onto that place.”
Pharis crossed her arms. “It wouldn’t be such a battle if they were working with people rather than trying to control them.”
“I think you will make a great leader once you have the opportunity. Believe in yourself.”
“At this rate, I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance.”
Rosa dropped the volume of her voice further. “Your mother is very private, but I’ve known her a very long time. From where I stand, she was heartbroken when Jeslan left so suddenly. She’s afraid you’re going to leave her, too. Show her that you are still a devoted daughter despite your differences, and I believe you can be close in the way you would like to be.”
I will leave if she doesn’t change her opinions and make it safe to be here. But Pharis nodded. “Thank you, Rosa. It means a lot to me that you can speak frankly with me. I value your counsel.”
“Happy to help, dear. I’m honored to have been part of your household.”
With a sudden surge of emotion, Pharis wrapped her arms the old woman. “You’re more my family than them. Thank you for always being there for me.”
Rosa patted her back. “It’s been my pleasure.”
Pharis smiled as she pulled back from the hug. “You’re always so professional.”
“I wouldn’t have lasted this long if I wasn’t.”
“But this is me.”
“You’re still a house scion, even though I once helped change your diapers. I’m glad you think of me as family, but I respect you for your position while still loving you as the daughter I never had myself.”
Pharis’s heart swelled. “Thank you.”
A chime for an incoming call sounded across the room.
“I should get that,” Pharis said.
“Of course, my lady,” Rosa said, returning to speech volume suitable for being overheard by others. “You know where to find me if you ever you need to talk.”
Pharis squeezed her upper arm. “That means the world to me.”
The chime sounded again, and Pharis ran to answer it while Rosa let herself out.
The screen showed an encrypted incoming comm link, but Pharis recognized the details as coming from Cyrus on the Celestiana. She accepted the call.
Her brother appeared on-screen. “Good morning. I hope this isn’t too early for you.”
“I’ve been getting up at perfectly acceptable hours recently, thank you very much,” Pharis replied. She couldn’t deny that she’d spent a good deal of time in her youth partying into the wee hours of the night—or until daybreak—but she’d left that behind her.
“I was only teasing. Is something wrong?” Cyrus asked when he heard Pharis’s sharp tone.
“I just made the mistake of trying to have breakfast with Mother.”
“Talking before she’s eaten and had her coffee?”
“Yep.”
“Hah! You should know better.”
“Yes, I really should. I didn’t get anything except what I deserved.”
Cyrus shook his head. “No, Pharis. You shouldn’t have to tiptoe around your own mother. We got a bad hand in the parenting department.”
“She tries.”
“Not enough.”
Pharis waved her hands. “I really don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m guessing you didn’t call to discuss the faults of our childhoods.”
“No, sorry. I was calling to give you an update about Terry’s and my recent discussions.”
“Better than mine, I hope?”
“No, but we may have an idea that will get the results we need.”
Pharis’s heart dropped. “You told me this would work.”
“We thought it would. It turns out that people are more stuck in their ways than we realized.”
“What do you mean? Is no one interested?”
Cyrus hesitated. “Well, a few people acknowledged the merits of—”
“A few people?” Pharis interrupted. “We’re trying to ignite a movement! ‘A few people’ will be silenced before this ever gets traction.”
“Yes, and that’s why we’ve realized that Terry and I can’t be the people trying to jumpstart it.”
“Right, you aren’t supposed to be. You were supposed to put forth ideas and have people run with it.”
“We tried, and apparently we’re not inspirational enough. I think some people are bitter about us picking up and leaving the system when we were dissatisfied with the lives we were born into. Our people have a lot of pride and dedication to their jobs, so they’re looking for people who have embraced their positions despite the odds being against them.” He paused, looking her over. “Someone like you.”
Pharis looked at him skeptically. “I do hope they’ll look to me as a leader, but I don’t see how I can spark a grassroots political revolution.”
“It was Terry’s idea,” Cyrus continued. “We think you should go to the docks and shake hands—act as if you’re one of the people, and therein make yourself one of them. They don’t want to follow an outsider. They want someone born and bred who’s never turned away. No one represents that commitment to service better than you.”
Right, like shaking hands is going to make a bit of difference.
As Pharis thought about it more, though, she realized that in all of her humanitarian efforts over the years, she’d never actually gone anywhere or done anything hands-on herself. It had always been initiatives carried out in her name, or programs implemented on her behalf using her money. Perhaps there was something to be said for her always keeping a slight distance.
“Is it really that simple?”
“Maybe it won’t work, but the current tactics aren’t getting us anywhere. This is the best idea we have right now,” Cyrus said.
“What would I have to do?”
“Accompany Terry to the port. Meet with people directly. And, most importantly, shake their hands, skin to skin.”
Pharis’s nose wrinkled involuntarily. “Why?”
“It is the easiest way to make them see you as one of them.”
“Isn’t the objective to be their leader?”
“This is about being a different kind of leader,” Cyrus replied. “Our family has kept to itself, always at a distance from the other houses and our people. That has gone on for generations, and we’ve lost touch with the people we’re supposed to govern. The Ordus now has a huge divide between the houses and other citizens.”
Pharis crossed her arms. “I suppose we are rather insular now.”
“It’s more than that. Why do you hesitate to shake hands?” her brother asked.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I guess that’s just how it’s always been.”
“I know you care about people more than that. You’ve always tried to implement initiatives to make circumstances better for those in need.”
“I have, yes—”
“But you have to realize that by hesitating to shake someone’s hand, you’re showing that they are somehow lower than you or unworthy of direct contact,” he comple
ted.
The statement may as well have been a knife in her heart.
Have I truly been conditioned to be that dismissive?
For her entire life, her mother had taught that leaders needed to maintain a firm hand. Pharis had rebelled in her own ways, offering assistance and trying to be compassionate and share her good fortunes. Confronted with the facts of the situation, though, she did look at her work as charity—that the people were lesser than her and she needed to save them. She had been trying to be a savior rather than an advocate for them to have control over their own lives.
Her shoulders rounded. “I didn’t mean to.”
“Hey, I needed to have it pointed out to me in no uncertain terms too,” Cyrus told her.
“I don’t want things to continue the way they are.”
“Neither do I, and we can turn it around. But we need to stop thinking like our ancestors.”
“I hardly know where to begin.”
He nodded. “It does feel overwhelming, but you’re not alone. Please, take Terry’s advice to meet face-to-face with your people. Get to know them as individuals, not statistics.”
Her chest constricted. “Look, I do want to, but how can I explain that sort of visit to Mother?”
“Easy. Don’t tell her.”
Pharis cast him a stern glance through the screen. “She’s scrutinizing my every move. I honestly don’t know how I’d get down to the port without her knowing I was there.”
“That part is tricky,” he admitted.
“And what could I possibly tell her about my presence there?”
Her brother was silent for several seconds, his lips pursed the way they always did while he was in deep thought. “I may have an idea for how to deal with two issues at the same time.”
“I’m all ears. The more problems I can free myself from, the better.”
“Well, from what you’ve said, Mother is a little too willing to let Jeslan chart her own course right now, correct?”
“Oh yes. She’s all but endorsed an alliance with Nebracken.”
“Obviously, that’s terrible.”
“Clearly.”
“So it would behoove us to plant doubts about Jeslan’s motives and long-term intentions—specifically to unequivocally disqualify her as a potential scion.”