The Stars We Steal

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The Stars We Steal Page 24

by Alexa Donne


  “We will, sweetie; Mommy just has to talk business for a bit longer.” The boy’s eyes got a bit wide, and for a moment I worried he might cry, but after a beat he gave the tiniest of nods and stood beside his mother obediently. “Anyway, Leo, it was lovely to meet you, and I’ll see you tomorrow!”

  I took my cue to leave, the better to do so before the captain bored a hole through my forehead with her glare. I wondered if she was nervous about Klara and the Valg Ball. She’d been gunning so hard for Elliot these past weeks, and I knew my aunt wanted them to match, but there was no way he’d marry her. That would leave Klara twenty-one and still single. Her waiting until twenty-six to do another Season was unlikely. After this, Klara would probably be forced to marry whatever boy her mother found for her and deemed suitable, with slim pickings left after the Valg Season ended. I pushed on, weaving my way through airy galleries and byways, thankful once more for Daniel and his welcome offer of friendship and partnership. The fleet was so unkind to those who didn’t follow tradition.

  Relief mingled with mounting unease as the day wore on. With each hour that slipped lazily by, one click tighter turned the invisible screw embedded in my back, which seemed to connect to every nerve ending in my body. Everyone would be there.

  Elliot would be there. Watching. Judging.

  And hurting, just a bit, I hoped.

  The thought, like a sliver of poison slipping into my bloodstream, made me hate myself a little.

  Twenty-Six

  I awoke to find my stomach in knots. I plunged my head under the down comforter, cocooning myself into its pillowy warmth. If I just stayed in bed, stayed here forever, would anyone notice?

  “Today isn’t the day to have a lie-in.”

  The voice was muffled but distinct. My sister was actually here. I uncovered my head and turned it toward her voice to find her sitting on her bed, assessing me coolly. She was still in her pajamas, but her hair was in curlers.

  “I don’t know where you put Mother’s gowns. And you need me to do your hair and makeup, surely.”

  I sat up, squinted at her. “Hello to you, too,” I said.

  “You slept in.” Carina sidestepped my volley. “We have six hours to get ready.”

  “I hardly think it’s going to take us six hours to put on a dress and style our hair and makeup.”

  “Your hair requires at least two. I’ll curl it for you the way you like.”

  This did nothing to alleviate the queasy feeling in my gut or my reluctance to get up. I knew that eventually Carina would have to talk to me again, yet I hadn’t imagined this would be the circumstance. Or that she would be so eerily calm and accommodating. I didn’t want to ruin it by asking questions or pressing the issue, but I was also desperate to have a heart-to-heart.

  “I’ll get you coffee,” Carina said, getting up and heading for the door. There went my opportunity, lost. “You should shower.”

  I knew she was right, yet for another minute I lay there, savoring the warmth from the down. A part of me just wasn’t ready to become tomorrow’s Leo. Engaged Leo. Saving-her-family Leo. I wanted to remain this version of myself a little bit longer.

  My wrist tab pinged from the side table. I grabbed it, swiping at the face and squinting at the message from Daniel.

  Back with two very happy parents in tow. Can’t wait to see you tonight and dance our asses off. And, you know, get engaged and all that. Hugs but NO KISSES! —Daniel

  His sign-off made me giggle, and the surge of warmth I felt inside, buoying my spirit and renewing my excitement for the evening, spurred me out of bed, finally. With a dramatic groan performed for no one but myself, I dragged myself out from under the covers and shuffled over to the bathroom.

  When I emerged from my shower, I found a mug of coffee waiting for me on my bedside table, along with my sister sitting on the bed again.

  “Dresses?” she asked.

  “Oh, yes, of course.” I hopped to, like a maid, making my way out into the living room and front hallway, unlocking the front closet with my bio-lock. My mother’s dresses always took my breath away. I ran reverent fingers over the fabric, leaning in just so, breathing in their smell. My mother’s scent was long gone, yet I swore I caught hints of lavender, mint, and black tea. I closed my eyes and exhaled. I missed her so much still.

  “You bio-locked the front closet?” came Carina’s voice from behind me. I turned to find her leaning against the doorway to our room, arms crossed and expression sly. “Afraid we’ll steal something?”

  I rolled my eyes at her, easily falling back into our old sisterly rapport. “Do you trust our father with the valuables?”

  “Touché.”

  “Come help me,” I said, grabbing two of the voluminous dresses myself, leaving Carina to the other two. We shuffled back to our bedroom and laid them out on my bed, surveying the spread.

  Mom had, of course, owned many more dresses than four, but these were the finest in her collection—the ones she’d set aside for our Seasons and weddings. Which dress she had intended for each of us and for which occasion I could never be sure. Father had known only of her hope for the dresses, not the particulars, which left the choice up to us. Mom thought white for weddings was Old-World patriarchal BS, and all of her dresses were as vibrant as she was. Before us lay gowns of deep azure, brilliant magenta, crisp emerald, and bold crimson, made from the finest silks, satins, chiffon, lace.

  “Do you want the red?” I guessed.

  “And you’re going for the blue, right?”

  We shared a laugh. Nearly two weeks of the silent treatment didn’t change the fact that we were sisters and knew each other too well.

  I ran loving fingers over the crisp taffeta of the blue gown, which sported a plunging V-neckline that made me blush. But, yes, tonight I would be bold and show off the slope of my shoulders, the tuck of my waist, my ample hips and long legs. The dress would complement everything—my body, my eyes, my hair. I’d be a knockout.

  My mental image wobbled, however. I was missing jewelry. And the Valg Ball demanded all our finery. We’d be judged, mocked if Carina and I didn’t turn up in our royal family heirlooms. That meant tiaras, earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and other baubles. I groaned out loud.

  “What?” Carina looked at me quizzically.

  “I forgot the jewels are on the Sofi. I’ll need to go get them.”

  How stupid could I have been? I’d left everything back on our ship all these weeks, even after discovering Elliot’s endeavor! We’d had no need of them on the Scandinavian, and honestly I’d forgotten all about them. They only came out every few years. Scheisse and frex it all.

  “Oh.” Carina’s expression turned dark. “You haven’t been back there since . . .”

  “You noticed?”

  “I’m not stupid, Leo.” She glared, and I frowned, a loaded moment passing between us. But she didn’t go farther, so neither did I. Then she sighed. “I’ll go and get them so you don’t have to.”

  “No, unfortunately, I do. It’s bio-locked to just me.”

  “You’re going to have to learn to trust other people at some point. Especially me.” I let her accusation hang.

  “I need to get dressed,” I said.

  “Fine, but I’m going with you.” I started to protest, but Carina was too quick. “You need me to run interference with Elliot. You know you do. And don’t forget to put curl cream in your hair before we leave.”

  And so I did, filing away the dread at the conversation we so desperately needed to have. Later. In the meantime, we’d walk to the Sofi and continue to limit our conversation strictly to hair, makeup, and dresses.

  Outside the royal quarters, the ship was alive with activity. We passed half a dozen wait staff as they hurried through the corridors with garment bags flung over their arms, lugging steaming equipment and makeup cases. I did not envy them their work. Nor I my mission. As we made our way aft with brisk steps, I rehearsed how to get in and out of Sofi quickly and quietly, hope
fully without being seen. Though, just in case, I’d put on a clean dress. I didn’t bother with any makeup—Carina scolded me to leave her a bare canvas to work from.

  The trick was, the family jewels were kept in a safe in the study, which would force us to sneak through the main artery of the ship to get there. But then, that’s why Carina was with me—to run interference, as she had said. Her thoughtfulness gave me hope that we could mend things between us.

  “Let me go first,” Carina said as we crossed the threshold through the aft hold. “If I see someone, I’ll greet them really loudly so you’ll know to keep back, and I’ll find a way to get them away from the study.”

  I put about ten feet of distance between us as Carina led the way, her steps oddly tentative, like she was scared of someone popping around the corner or out of a closed room. I suppose I appreciated her caution, though it was a bit overzealous. Unsurprisingly, the aft corridor was clear. I held back in the shadowy recesses where the corridor curved, just enough that I wouldn’t be seen if someone exited a bedroom. I kept tight to the rough wall, feeling safe with my workshop and maintenance hold so close. Carina passed her room, mine, then the door to father’s quarters, and then I lost her where the hall ended in a T. Left was the dining room and kitchens, and to the right, the study. She turned left.

  I zipped forward, dipping low, like I was on some spy mission, hugging the left side of the hall. Pressing myself flush against the wall, I craned my ear in the direction Carina had turned, and I heard her talking to someone.

  “They don’t have my favorite tea on the Scandinavian, so we should go into the kitchen. Make a cup. You like tea, don’t you? My sister prefers coffee . . .” She emphasized “sister,” surely code. Trying to tell me it wasn’t safe. She had to be talking to Elliot. He didn’t respond, but I heard two pairs of feet moving away. Good job, baby sister!

  Quickly and quietly, I went to the study door, pressed my finger to the bio-lock, and cursed the low beep it made upon opening. Before it had even shuttled completely open, I’d jumped inside and turned to the inner release, pressing it shut behind me. Then, finally, I allowed myself to breathe for what felt like the first time in the last minute. A shaky laugh escaped me. I’d made it! I turned, surveying the room, pressing my back to the wall to stop the beads of sweat running uncomfortably down my spine and traveling rapidly south toward my underwear. My poor dress.

  Someone coughed, and I literally squeaked. My eyes searched for the source, sound rushing in my ears and my body instantly going cold. Then I flushed warm all over as I locked eyes with Elliot. He rose from the couch he’d somehow expertly camouflaged with—who wore so much green?—his eyebrow quirked in a frustratingly attractive fashion.

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded. It was the first thing that came to mind; the thing I very much wished to ask my sister. Who had she been talking to, if not Elliot?

  “I could ask you the same thing,” he replied, still with that arch, and now I noticed how his hair was damp from a shower, the green “clothing” actually a large, fluffy bathrobe. I might overheat. I pressed myself hard against the wall, desperate for more space between us, more air.

  “I came for the jewels,” I croaked.

  “Am I being robbed?” He stuck his hands up and laughed, the sound rich and warm.

  “The, um, crown jewels?” I pointed stupidly to the safe behind him.

  “I’m surprised you left them here with me.” Elliot’s tone was light, but, oh, there was an edge. We were still dancing around each other like we had the last time I was in this room with him.

  “Me too.” I played it cool, finally pushing off the wall and waltzing over to the wall safe. He wasn’t making moves to leave, so I would do this with him here. My fingerprint opened the case, and as always, the family heirlooms dazzled me. Diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires set into gold and silver glittered up at me, their splendor a concrete reminder of my family legacy, incongruous with everyday reality but beautiful nonetheless.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t reprogram the bio-lock, like you did the pantry and the below-decks hold,” I said, making quick work of grabbing sapphire pieces to match my dress and diamond ones to complement Carina’s. I placed them carefully into a small carrying case.

  “I only limited access to those two spaces out of necessity,” Elliot replied softly.

  “To keep secrets from me.” I rounded on him.

  “To protect my business.”

  “A criminal enterprise is not a business,” I snapped, breezing back over to the door, eager to leave.

  “Leo, please.” Elliot grabbed my arm as I passed, not hard, but with my momentum, I was wrenched to a stop. He dropped his hand immediately. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. Your arm, I mean.”

  “It’s fine.” I rubbed the spot absent-mindedly.

  “I was . . . disappointed you kept away. I honestly thought you’d come back, after—”

  “You don’t know me very well, then, if you thought that.”

  He flinched, and bile rose in my throat. Hurting him was painful to me, but he’d hurt me first. That’s what I told myself.

  “I’ll see you tonight, at the ball, then?” I said, casual as could be. My voice wobbled only a little.

  Elliot nodded but wouldn’t meet my eyes. The floor suddenly became very interesting, and I could take a hint. With a huff I hoped did not sound undignified, I pushed the door-open button and exited. And from one frustration to another, there was Carina, waiting for me.

  “Success?” she asked innocuously.

  “I got the jewels, if that’s what you mean,” I said. “But they came with a side of conversation with Elliot.”

  Carina blanched. “Oh, no, I’m so sorry. I was busy distracting, um, Ewan in the kitchen . . . I didn’t think to actually check the study.” She cursed softly to herself, calling herself stupid, and my anger melted.

  “Don’t beat yourself up. I survived.” I linked our arms together and pulled her along. “Come on, let’s go and get ready.”

  And we made our way back the Scandinavian, where I would ready myself to become tomorrow’s Leo. Today’s Leo was done.

  Twenty-Seven

  I thought my father might hyperventilate when a knock sounded at the door and he flung it open to find Daniel standing there in his finery.

  “I’m so glad you’re here!” he exclaimed, pulling Daniel into a messy hug. Father might have been a little bit drunk already. Daniel handled it like a pro, extracting himself gracefully and breezing inside.

  “As am I,” he said, making a beeline for me. “Leo, I think you may be the most beautiful woman in the universe tonight.” He bowed and took my gloved hand as I offered it, lightly kissing the tips of my fingers. We’d decided ahead of time to be as affectionate and sappy as we dared, putting on a grand show for everyone so that later no one would ever question us. Daniel agreed to do everything but kiss, which both of us agreed we probably couldn’t pull off convincingly. Besides, we’d hardly be the only couple not quite at the kissing stage yet. A lot of business arrangements disguised as marriages would be going down tonight.

  “She looks just like her mother.” Father sniffed, moisture gleaming in his eyes. “That was her Valg gown too, though of course she wore it again, many times.”

  My breath caught, and I drew solemn fingers over the gilt rose embellishments that spidered up my torso. I’d picked this dress for my favorite color, not the rose motif that I found ironic, given my attitude toward the Valg. Of course it had been her engagement dress too.

  “And look at you two, so in sync!” Father beamed at the pair of us, indicating Daniel’s gold-adorned waistcoat. I didn’t have the heart to tell him we’d coordinated over message earlier, Daniel assuring me he had waistcoats in every feasible color, so I need only specify whether I wanted him to match or complement.

  “You look fetching yourself, Your Highness,” Daniel simpered, indicating my dad’s tuxedo. It was the perfect thing to say to Father, who w
as still put out that I’d not brought his crown for him to wear. I’d purposely left it behind but played it off as a mistake. His crown was ridiculous and far too precious for how drunk he would be getting tonight. I couldn’t risk him losing it or breaking it.

  “Shall we head over, then?” I asked.

  “Where is Carina?” Father craned his head in the direction of our bedroom.

  “She left about thirty minutes ago. Said she wanted to make her own entrance.” I attempted to hide my hurt. We’d helped each other get ready, even cracked a few jokes between us, but then she’d disappeared again.

  “I’m starting to believe that your sister doesn’t exist and is merely a figment of your imagination,” Daniel teased, tone light, but concern for me reflected in his eyes. It was a reminder that, indeed, with Carina’s avoiding me all these weeks, she’d also avoided properly meeting Daniel. Speed dating didn’t count.

  “We’ll see her there,” I said, taking Daniel’s arm. “And I’m nervous to meet your parents.” I leaned in close to Daniel, dropping my voice, but Father heard me regardless.

  “Your parents are here? Does that mean what I think it does?” he said to Daniel.

  “Don’t you want to be surprised?” I deflected as we made our way into the corridor. Far off, I heard a high-pitched screech followed by a fit of giggles. Were people at the drunk-and-cavorting stage already? I went to check my wrist tab for the time, but for once, I wasn’t wearing it. We were fashionably late, but not that late, I was sure.

  Having taken my reply for the yes that it was, Father moved quickly ahead of us, clearly in a rush to get to more alcohol and maybe, generously, the food. He took the nearest entrance to the royal private public quarters, but I led Daniel around the long way so we could arrive at the ballroom through the main doors without cutting through side galleries. It would give us more time to talk, as well as the opportunity to make an entrance. We both looked amazing, and I wanted everyone to see. Leo wasn’t hopeless after all. And she could really wear a dress. And land an amazing boy.

 

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