The Stars We Steal

by Alexa Donne

  “I need some air.” I made excuses to leave. “Daniel, if you’ll grab me a drink, I’ll be back shortly.” I kissed him on the cheek and careened toward the exit. A few minutes away from the crowd would do wonders.

  The security personnel didn’t even look at me as I streamed past; their attention was glued to something farther down the hall—an argument happening about ten feet away. I squinted, drawing near, interest turning to mild panic as I recognized the pair locked in tense conversation and the girl standing by, nervously worrying her fingers against her crimson skirts. Elliot, Ben, and Carina. My limbs froze me in place, reason telling me I should turn tail and run in the opposite direction, but my traitorous ears latched onto snippets of the conversation and were desperate to drink in every word.

  “Don’t you understand the agonizing position this puts me in?” Elliot pleaded with Ben, who merely shrugged.

  “I love her.”

  “And I love her.”

  Elliot’s reply stopped my heart. He loved her? My sister? That was surely who Ben meant, but certainly Elliot didn’t—

  “Leo!” Carina clapped eyes on me, rushing to close the short distance between us. Immediately the boys stopped talking, though there was no chance to see any reaction to my intrusion. I found myself fully engulfed by my sister, who threw her arms around me and clutched me desperately tight. “Please don’t be mad at me. It’s done, and I’m sorry, but I’m not sorry, and I just couldn’t tell you before. You’d have stopped us.”

  “How could you, you silly girl?” was all I could manage. I sighed into her shoulder. I would have to tell her, warn her about Ben and Elliot’s business. The life she was choosing. “Carina, I—” I broke up as I came out of the hug, finding both Ben and Elliot watching me with nervous anticipation. Without another word, I grabbed my sister by the hand and pulled her along, back toward the ballroom, away from the boys so we could speak with better privacy.

  “What are you doing?” She tugged against my grip, but I held fast. I spun us into an alcove.

  “I just need you to understand,” I said.

  “Understand what?” She snatched her hand from mine finally, holding it to her torso as if wounded. I stole a glance back at Elliot, who looked away.

  “How much do you know about what Ben does for a living?” I hedged.

  “He’s in the sanitation department; you know that. There’s no shame in it.”

  “No, there’s no shame in that.”

  “I don’t like the way you said that.”

  Everything felt wrong. The moment, the words coming out of my mouth, that we were standing in the middle of a bright hallway with the chatter of hundreds of people a dozen feet away. That, and my head starting to fuzz, drinks catching up with me. I sighed, pressing fingers to my temple.

  “I’ll tell you later,” I settled on finally, but Carina was not having it.

  “Whatever it is, tell me now, Leo!”

  Her voice as it called my name came in stereo, pitched simultaneously high and low. How did she do that?

  “Leo!” a decidedly male voice repeated. Wait, it was Daniel, calling to me from the ballroom doors. I turned, blinking him into focus. “Get back here now,” he hissed urgently. He looked half sick with worry. Klara appeared beside him, ducking her head out and craning in Elliot’s direction. She snapped her fingers at him, calling his name, and he hopped to like a good little soldier. I beat him to the door, letting Daniel grab me by the hand and usher me back inside. Miranda Fairfax was mid-speech.

  “—​proud to partner with the Scandinavian on this exciting new endeavor, which will go a long way toward conserving resources throughout the fleet. Thank you, Freja, for bringing this to me! I know you all must have been concerned by the rumors that every ship in the fleet would have to contribute a concrete resource to the fleet ecosystem, but with this invention, the Scandinavian will move forward on sound footing!”

  I leaned into Daniel’s ear. “What is she talking about?”

  “The Scandinavian’s new water-conservation system,” he answered tightly, shooting me a look.

  “Wh-what?” I stammered, all my vital organs dropping into my shoes.

  “Thank you, Miranda,” my aunt simpered into the microphone, taking over emcee duties again. “The Scandinavian is proud to lead the way in water-recycling technology.”

  They were? Not on my last count. Captain Lind had rejected my proposal out of hand! I waited with bated breath for her to go on, thanking her beloved niece for her brilliant invention, but she did not. Had she been secretly developing her own version all this time? Either way, I felt thoroughly scuppered.

  I felt a gentle touch on my elbow and swiveled to find Elliot peering at me with concern. “Why aren’t you up there?”

  “I—” My mouth hung open, wobbling like a dying fish. My aunt started speaking again. I whipped around to the stage, horror creeping slowly but surely up my spine.

  “And now, following this happy news with more happy news, the final engagement of the night, and the one that means the most to me. Klara, darling, come up here.”

  I watched my cousin ascend the stage as I turned over the facts in my mind. My aunt had made some deal with Miranda Fairfax of the Lady Liberty, brokering the use of my invention, or something terribly similar to it. She’d not spoken to me about it, nor said my name. Had she stolen it from me? How? My breath came in short pants, my body flushing hot.

  “Leo.” Daniel was there again, steady hands on my back and arm. “It has to be a mistake. An oversight. We’ll fix it. It’s okay.”

  No, no, no, it wasn’t. Tears sprang hot into my eyes, blurring my vision. Why was this happening?

  “I am thrilled to announce that my daughter, Her Royal Highness Klara Lind, is engaged to . . .” Captain Lind trailed off for dramatic effect, building up suspense. I looked over at Lukas, but he was gone from the sidelines. My eyes flicked to the stairs leading up to the stage, but it wasn’t Lukas making his way up them. It was—

  My aunt went for the big finish, confirming the suspicion that washed cold over me.

  “Elliot Wentworth of the Islay!”

  And I broke.

  Twenty-Nine

  Tears began to flow hot and freely down my cheeks, my vision blotting out white. My mind screamed out No! and my knees threatened to buckle, but Daniel held me fast upright. I was conscious of him whispering something in my ear, something about everything being okay, but as my vision cleared, I became acutely aware of silence. Then a low hum, the murmur of scandal. Everyone had swiveled to face me and Daniel, staring at us. No, no, at me. Elliot, Klara, Captain Lind—everyone’s eyes were on me, judging, worrying.

  Scheisse. I must have shouted “No!” out loud.

  So I did the only thing I could think to do. I ran.

  “Hey! Stop!” the security men yelled as I dodged past them, hanging a sharp right at the ballroom doors. The champagne and the vodka dulled the painful throb from my too-tight shoes as I sprinted away. To where, I didn’t know; all that mattered was that it was away. Away from the horror show of the ballroom, where everything I loved and held dear, all my hopes and dreams, had been crushed right in front of me. Elliot was marrying Klara. My Elliot. And my invention had been stolen. I didn’t care that Daniel’s wealth meant I no longer needed the water-filtration system to save my family. That wasn’t the point. It had been mine. Something dear and precious to me, and my aunt had taken that.

  Elliot, too.

  I slowed to a stop, gasping for air through a sob. I leaned my back against the nearest wall, doubling over and imploring myself to breathe.

  Oh, God, what had I done? How could I marry anyone else? I would love him forever and always, until the day I died. That I knew, better than I could ever know anything. And he would love Klara? Marry her, have children with her, while I watched? This was a nightmare. I was in my nightmare.

  “Leo!”

  I heard Elliot call my name, then saw him as he rounded the corner and
jogged to a stop before me. I swiped at my eyes with the back of my hand, black smudges of mascara and liner coming away with it. Great, now I would look like someone had punched me in the face. Well, it felt like it.

  “Why weren’t you on the stage, Leo?” Elliot demanded.

  “What, did you want me to jump up there and fight my cousin? Is this all some sick game?” I teetered from grief to rage.

  “What? No! I mean with your aunt. When she announced the partnership with the Lady Liberty, for the water-filtration system. Why weren’t you up there?”

  “Why would I be up there? I had nothing to do with this. I don’t know what’s happening.”

  Elliot went quiet, stared at me; then his eyes went wide, as if with revelation.

  “You didn’t open the letter.”

  I cocked my head to the side. What was he talking about?

  “Leo, why didn’t you open the letter? Verdammt noch mal!”

  Elliot was cursing in German, so this was serious.

  “Was für einen verdammten Brief?” I replied in kind. German always came to me more readily when I’d been drinking, so the shift felt natural.

  “The one I left on your pillow weeks ago. I haven’t been in there since, and I didn’t think—” Elliot shook his head. “Dammit, Leo, why are you so stubborn? Go now. Read my letter. Look at the attachment.”

  “Me? Are you telling me you wrote something crucial in a letter? And now you’re blaming me for not opening it?”

  “Yes, I’m an idiot, but argue with me later. Go to the Sofi now and read it. Please.”

  I didn’t understand what was happening, didn’t like his tone at all, but still I pushed back from the wall, though not before removing my heels. I’d go the rest of the way barefoot and worry about how gross that was later. It didn’t take me very long at all to reach my ship—subconsciously, I think I’d been heading there already. Why else turn right from the ballroom, away from the royal quarters? This was home.

  The Sofi was dark and eerily quiet when I boarded. Adrenaline and alcohol warred for my senses, one sharpening my focus and the other fuzzing everything at the edges. I oscillated from the middle of the hall to the left, back to the middle, then to the right as I made my way quickly toward the kitchen and front stairs. Wanting my wits about me when I read whatever this infamous letter was, I stopped in the kitchen to chug down a glass of water. Then, with much steadier footing, I headed below decks, following the familiar pathway to Elliot’s room. The door cracked open, the stale air of a disused room washing over me, and I commanded the lights on. There, on Elliot’s bed, right where I had left it, was an envelope with my name in his tidy scrawl. I had been so angry at him, at his betrayal, I’d had no interest in whatever feeble words he might have had to offer.

  Now I picked up the envelope with trembling fingers and sat down on the edge of the bed to read. I tore at the edge of the flap with my fingernail, enough to wedge my index finger underneath and tear it the rest of the way open. Not pretty, but it did the job. More carefully, I slid out the folded sheaf of paper. The envelope slipped from my grasp, sluicing to the floor like a graceless bird. I spread open the pages, eyes focusing on the handwritten text.

  Dear Leo,

  I know exactly what you must be thinking: “How antiquated of him to write me a letter, and a bit showy, too, flaunting his wealth—that he can afford paper!” And you’d be right, and wrong at the same time, like always. I am old-fashioned, yes, but above all, practical. If I sent you a regular message, you could delete it before reading. I want my words immortalized in ink and parchment, something you can hold concrete in your hands and hopefully believe. Besides which, part of this had to be delivered on paper. But I’ll get to that.

  I know you in my bones, Leo, as I think you know me. So you must know that I didn’t mean to hurt you, but the fact is that I have, and that truth is causing me indescribable agony.

  Agony. That is the perfect word to describe how I have felt over the past few weeks, seeing you nearly every day but with you feeling so distant to me. Unreachable. Unknowable. It’s how I’ve felt the past three years, if I’m being honest. I’ve hated you. And missed you. And l—

  Something there was crossed out, scratched out roughly in black, the paper nearly torn. No use trying to decipher it. I kept reading.

  Now I write to you, half agony, half hope.

  Last night I wanted to kiss you so desperately. I think you wanted to kiss me, too. And then everything fell so spectacularly apart. But despite everything, now I have hope. Hope that you still love me as I still love you. I have always loved you, I love you still, and I will always love you. Three years ago, you crushed my spirit and my hope. That love was enough. It was more than where we came from, how much money we had. I have money now, and power, and position, everything I didn’t have before. The spiteful part of me wanted you to love me, to want me again, and I had fantasies of saying no, of crushing you this time. I both revel in and loathe that I have become precisely what your father, and aunt, and cousin found me to be wanting of three years ago. But I was lying to myself. I don’t want revenge on you, Leo. I understand why you did what you did. You couldn’t leave, and I couldn’t stay. All I want, what I desperately wish for, is for you to love me still. Love me back. Take me as I am, and I will love you best, and forever.

  If you do not, I ask that you remain my friend. I cannot foresee a future for myself without you in it. I have missed you too much these past three years to miss you forever.

  Regardless of how you feel, I leave you with this: I have filed the patent in your name for your water-filtration system with the Olympus, I took care of the fee, and you’ll find the papers enclosed. All you need do is sign them. You deserve every happiness.

  Love,

  Elliot

  His words left me speechless, and with quaking fingers, I thumbed to the additional pages, eyes skimming the official jargon. He’d really done it—filed my patent for me. It was dated three weeks ago, and there was the blank signature field winking up at me. It was mine. I had proof. I could use this to prove that the water-filtration system was my invention, if indeed my aunt had stolen it.

  And Elliot loved me. Still. Always. Forever!

  Then why had he gotten engaged to Klara not even twenty minutes ago?

  Because I hadn’t read the letter, and he thought that I had. I’d acted cold and indifferent toward him and flung myself into the Season. Latched onto Daniel.

  Oh, God, I had ruined everything. Brought this upon myself.

  The letter and patent slipped from my slack fingers, fluttering noisily to the floor. I flung myself back onto the bed and curled onto my side. I clutched Elliot’s pillow to my face and let the tears come again.

  Thirty

  A knock at the door startled me out of my mood. I rose from the bed, tentatively moving toward the door.

  “Leo?”

  His voice was muffled through the metal, but there was no mistaking that it was Elliot.

  I rushed to the mirror to check my complexion. Blotches of pink stained my cheeks, and my mascara had run, smudging streaks of black below my eyes. A bit of spit applied to my finger didn’t quite do the job, but I managed to clear away the worst of the mascara damage. My cheeks were a lost cause—there would be no hiding the fact that I’d been messily crying.

  Elliot knocked again.

  “Maybe you’re not in there, and I’m the idiot talking to an empty room, but if you are in there, can we talk? I’ll give up in, um, two minutes.”

  I wasn’t cruel, so I didn’t make him wait that long. I smoothed a hand over my hair, then my skirt, and took a steadying breath before approaching the door. When I opened it, there he was in all his glory: sophisticated in his suit, face creased with worry. His eyes darted down to the floor, where the pages of the letter were still scattered. I scurried to collect them all, the patent papers especially. While I was doing that, Elliot took the opportunity to come in, shutting the door behind him.
r />   “You read it, then?” He sat down on the lower bunk across from mine. Well, his. But also mine.

  I know you in my bones, Leo, as I think you know me.

  Suddenly I felt flushed all over. I nodded, taking a seat across from him. I didn’t know what to say.

  Elliot didn’t either. He looked at me expectantly.

  “So?” finally he prodded.

  “You love me,” I offered stupidly. Not a question. A statement of apparent fact. Elliot let out a breath, lips quirking into a smile.

  “Yes, I do. Do you . . . ?” He let the question hang, as if he could finish the statement with any number of things, such as “. . . like coffee?” But his meaning was clear.

  “Yes.” There was no use lying, though I didn’t see the point in any of this now. We were both engaged to other people. My brow furrowed, the fact washing over me afresh. “Klara, El? How could you?”

  “Me? You’re engaged to some guy you just met!”

  “Daniel’s a good person,” I said. “And at least he’s firmly neutral as far as you’re concerned. Klara is family. You had to know what that would do to me.”

  Elliot’s lips were pursed together so tightly, they went white in the middle. His jaw clicked, like he desperately wanted to say something.

  “Well?”

  “I had no choice,” he ground out. “You cannot possibly understand everything I have done for you. Because I love you.”

  “What does that mean? Elliot, there’s no use being cryptic with me, not after all this; just lay it all out. You owe me the truth.”

  Elliot chewed on his lower lip, then sighed. “She’s blackmailing me.”

  “Who, Klara?” For all her faults, that didn’t seem like my cousin at all. Blackmail was beneath her.

  “No, her mother,” Elliot said. “The captain.”

  “How? Why?” I was flabbergasted.

  Elliot narrowed his eyes at me, tilting his head. “I run the black market, Leo. Remember? She found out and has been holding it over me ever since. She wants a piece of it. No, she wants it all. If I marry Klara, my empire becomes her empire too. And the Scandinavian’s position is ensured.”