by Roxie Ray
But meeting Coplan, sharing this time with him, falling asleep next to him every night…it really put things into perspective for me. When I’d never had any expectation of feeling pleasure, let alone love, it had all seemed so much easier. Now, I was just struggling to decide what was worse: the knowledge that I’d finally found someone who could make me as happy as Coplan did, only to lose him, or the possibility that I could have gone on to live a terrible life with a husband I didn’t love without ever having felt these butterflies in my stomach or the intensity of an actual, honest-to-gosh orgasm at all.
“Here. These should suit you better.” Coplan slipped back into bed with a plate of bite-sized greenish balls from the articulator. I couldn’t quite pronounce what he called them, but I knew I liked them a lot. They were dipped in a batter and fried, green on the outside, but soft and salty in the center. When he offered one to me, I gobbled it down and immediately grabbed another.
“Will they have these in the capital when we get there, do you think?”
“A more elegant version, perhaps. This kind is…what did you call it yesterday? Street food?” Coplan chuckled. “A terrible name. No one on Lunaria eats off of the street, but they do sell in the market stalls. They are hardly a delicacy. Nothing like what you will be eating when…” He paused and closed his eyes for a moment. “When you arrive in Lunaria.”
When we get to Lunaria. That was what we were calling it. Saying what we were really talking about, giving a more accurate name to the point in time when our lives would be forced to separate forever and for good, was too terrible to possibly give words to.
It was the price I had to pay for Atlanta’s freedom, I knew, and for the freedom of all the other women on Earth as well.
But as I laid my head on Coplan’s chest and wrapped my thigh over his lap for what would be one of the last times, I couldn’t help but wish that at some point, I’d actually had a real choice.
When the day finally came, I dressed for it like it was my funeral.
“There. Black, just as you wished.” Coplan finished draping the dark, sheer veil around my hair and neck, then stood back to admire his handiwork. “It is a mourning color on Lunaria as well, you know.”
“And the new color of High House Brixta,” I grumbled. Coplan had told me a little of the lord I was going to be married off to, Idria’s brother, Urthal, whose name only ever made me think of, well, urine. Supposedly he was dour, boorish and cold. He and Idria were close, which didn’t bode well for me. Worse, the rumors were that they had conspired to kill their own father so Urthal could take the house’s throne. Their colors had been changed from red and green to plain, pure black shortly after. It felt like an omen—and not the good kind.
“You look beautiful.” Coplan’s gaze lingered on me for a moment before he offered me his hand. “You always do.”
“And you look…sad.” There were no more tears to cry. Not for either of us. We’d resigned ourselves to our fates over the last few days, but that didn’t mean either of us looked happy about them. We had no reason to.
“Do not worry for me, Savii.” Coplan took my hand in his and squeezed it tight. “You have been so strong through all of this. Your strength inspires me, as it always has.”
“I’m tired of being strong,” I admitted. I stuck close to his side as we left my suite for what would probably be the last time. “I wish I didn’t have to be for once.”
“In your moments of weakness, look to the moons, then,” Coplan suggested. Outside the suite, he pulled me to him one last time and kissed my forehead, then my lips. “You will have a balcony in your new palace. They will be in plain view.”
“I don’t think the moons are going to help, Coplan.” I knew the Lunarians worshiped their moons, but I didn’t see how I would find any comfort in them myself.
“Perhaps not.” He kissed me again, then bent down to rest his forehead against mine. “But every night, I will be weak as well—and I will be staring up at them, thinking of you.”
Coplan took me to the communications room of the ship as we approached Lunaria. As soon as we landed, the hand-off would have to take place. Coplan and his generals would be given fresh orders, and Lord Brixta would be there at the docks to collect me before the ship left again.
But before that happened, we needed to meet with Idria one last time to negotiate the final terms—and with the warnings that Coplan had given me about her in mind, there were a few things I needed to make completely clear before I went through with this.
“Hello, Savii.” Leonix’s lips moved awkwardly we entered the comms room, like she was trying to give me a smile, but in the end, she just couldn’t force it. “How…lovely you look.”
“Thank you, Leonix.” My voice was distant and dull. I couldn’t allow myself to feel anything right now. Not sadness. Not loss. Nothing. If I did, I knew I wouldn’t be able to make this sacrifice—and there were just too many lives at stake for me to lose my willpower now.
Haelian and Kloran, Coplan’s generals, stood in the back of the room. Haelian was a little better at forcing his smile than Leonix had been, but Kloran wasn’t wasting any energy in pretending. They each gave me a nod as my fingers slipped from Coplan’s hand and I took my place between them. Near a set of machines behind Kloran and Haelian, Daran gave me one of his sinister grins.
“Leonix is right, Savannah. What a fair thing you are in House Brixta black.” Daran waved his hand over the machines and they whirred to life. “Your new husband will be so pleased. I am sure of it.”
On the wall behind the machines, an image of a Lunarian woman began to appear, like a 3-D model floating in the air, suspended by light. It had to be Lady Idria. She was beautiful, with pale orange skin, hair even darker than mine and the same cold, black eyes that Daran had.
It made me wonder what her brother looked like—if he was as handsome as she was pretty, and as terrible-looking in spite of it—but then I remembered. I didn’t care.
“Good morning, Savannah,” Idria purred. “My, you are as gorgeous of a creature as my intelligence has suggested. Are you well?”
“Does it matter?” I asked.
“No,” Idria admitted. “I suppose not. But regardless, I understand that you wish to speak with me. I hope your will has not begun to waver since you accepted my generous offer?”
“It hasn’t.” I had to force the words through gritted teeth. “But first, I want to make sure that everything we’ve agreed to—on both sides—is still in motion.”
“Do you not trust me?” Idria laughed before I could answer. “Beautiful and clever. My goodness, what a prize you are. But yes—as we agreed, the alliance between Lunaria and Earth will go into effect as soon as you say your vows. No human will be abducted by the Rutharians ever again. Earth will have the full benefits of Lunaria’s protections, and your sister will be returned to your side safely. Does that still suit you?”
“It does,” I said slowly. “Almost.”
“Oh?”
“You say that no human will be abducted by the Rutharians.” I had to pay careful attention to the words that Idria had chosen. The devil was in the details, and the only greater devil than the Rutharians I knew of was Idria herself. “What about other races? I don’t want to save my people from slavery to one alien species, just to see them enslaved by another.”
“Ah. So, perhaps there is such a thing as too clever, then.” Slowly, the smile drifted from Idria’s lips. “I cannot promise you that, I am afraid. Part of our agreement with Earth rests on your planet’s entrance into the slave trade, Savannah. Your governments are most eager to take part in it—including an exclusive agreement with Lunaria for breeding slaves. But I hope you understand, all contracts between humans and Lunarians will be entirely legal and abide by the rules set by the slave trade commission. It is all entirely above board and could greatly improve the lives of Earth’s lower classes if they chose to participate.”
“That’s not okay.” I shook my head, steppin
g forward and keeping my back straight. “Earth’s governments are corrupt. They take advantage of people, especially the poor. You can’t guarantee that Earth will play by the commission’s rules, so you can’t guarantee anything you’ve just said. If I’m going to throw away my life for the protection of my people, then I want to make sure they’re actually protected.”
“And we know from experience that the commission has been fooled before,” Kloran said. He gave me a small nod of confidence. “Savii is right. This cannot be.”
“Drop the slave trade agreement, or else you can’t have me,” I told Idria. “I’m not backing down on this. It’s not right and you know it.”
“Oh, dear.” Idria pouted at me as her hologram flickered. “You do not really understand how this works, do you, Savannah? Your sister still hasn’t been recovered yet, remember. Or have you already forgotten about her? Now, I can assure you that she is in a safe place for now—”
“A safe place?” That was news to me. From the way Kloran and Haelian glanced at each other over me, and the mumbling between Coplan and Leonix behind me, I guessed it was probably news to them as well. “I thought she was trapped on some prison planet somewhere.”
“She is,” Idria confirmed. “You must have had access to some very good intelligence to determine that, though. I doubt it was just a fortunate guess.”
I frowned. It felt like every time I opened my mouth, I was putting my foot in it. “But you said she was safe…”
“She has been safe on Nightmoor this entire time, Savannah. Come now. If you’re going to be clever, you should at least be consistent about it.” Idria’s smile returned to her lips. “Rest assured, Atlanta is in good hands until your vows to my brother are complete. If you refuse this offer, that could change, though. Quickly. I would suggest that you keep that in mind before you make any more demands. Now…” Her smile widened. “Do you have any more demands?”
I looked back at Coplan. One glance at his face told me that he was proud of me—but that his heart was breaking for me just the same. Earth’s women would be safe from Rutharians, but at a cost. Now, the sectors would be free to enslave whatever women on Earth they wanted. Some might agree willingly…but others, like the gray-classes and people imprisoned in Sector Five, might not have a choice.
Just like I didn’t have one. Idria had ensured that.
I bit my lip and clenched my fists as I lowered my eyes from Idria’s piercing gaze. There was nothing more for me to say or do.
I just had to accept defeat.
“Good.” Idria’s hologram turned to Daran. “Then please escort Savannah to the offboarding area.”
Daran immediately marched forward and took my arm. He all but dragged me toward the door.
“No. Wait!” I had to dig in my heels to try and stop him as Coplan rushed towards us, a look of desperation in his eyes. “I want to say goodbye to Coplan first. Please!”
“Oh, Savannah. I think I have been more than lenient about your little affair with Healer Majari.” Idria’s voice dripped with poison. “This ends now. If you needed to say goodbye, you should have done it before vexing me so with your nasty little concerns. Daran, take her. If anyone tries to stop you, kill them.”
“As you wish, my lady.” Daran tightened his grip on my arm and went back to dragging me toward the door. His other hand hovered over the blaster on his belt as he stared Coplan down—like he was just begging Coplan to come and try him.
Apparently, Coplan felt the same.
“No,” Coplan snarled, blocking the door. “I will not allow this.”
“It is your funeral, then.” Daran grinned as he reached for his gun.
And I couldn’t let that happen. After everything I’d been through, everything I’d sacrificed—everything that Coplan had done for me—I couldn’t let him die for me on top of it.
“Coplan, no.” I stepped between Daran and Coplan, blocking Daran’s ability to take the shot with my own body. “If this is all we have left…then this has to be it. I’m not worth this. Move aside.”
“I will not,” Coplan snarled back. His eyes were so red, I worried that they weren’t just filled with fury, but with his blood now too. “Not until I am able to kiss you goodbye.”
But he must have seen the pleading look in my own eyes, because only a second later, his shoulders slumped, and he stepped aside. The last glimpse of his eyes I got had no red in it anymore. Only gray, cold and despondent and completely defeated. Done.
“Goodbye then, Savii. Perhaps we will meet again in another world. Another life.” He didn’t meet my gaze again.
And just like that, it was over.
Idria had finally won.
20
Coplan
As Daran hauled the love of my life away, I could not even tell her how much I cared for her.
I could not even watch her go.
Leonix moved to me first, resting her forehead against my temple. I stood stoic, like I had been turned to stone as Kloran and Haelian came to my side as well. They placed their hands on my shoulders and pressed their heads to mine.
“I am sorry, Coplan.” Leonix was the first to speak. “This is not fair.”
“None of this is fair,” Haelian added. “I am so sorry.”
“They deserve to die,” Kloran said simply. Somehow, that was the only thing that actually helped.
They did deserve death. Every single person who dared to place their own desires before Savii’s happiness did. It pained me to be kept from her. It hurt, deep down in my soul, to know that she would go on to become another man’s bride—and without so much as a final kiss goodbye, a final moment. A final touch.
“We cannot dwell on that now.” I could not dwell on it. I had not missed Idria’s threat to Atlanta as Savii tried to better negotiate the deal. “Idria’s people are holding Savii’s sister, and we have been forced to abandon our rescue mission in order to return Savii to Lunaria. If Savii is unable to go through with the deal after all—if she refuses Idria, or will not take her vows—”
Kloran and Haelian took a step back, glancing first at each other and then at the projector.
“You are right, of course,” Haelian said. “We need to contact Apex—and quickly. He is most able to go to Nightmoor to Atlanta’s aid.”
“He has not been in contact since our last meeting, though,” Kloran said. “Either something—or someone—is preventing him—”
“Or something has happened to him,” Leonix cut in. “Or…someone. But Haelian is right. We cannot take the ship out of Lunarian airspace until this deal is done, or else Savii would be left defenseless if she does change her mind. Not to mention the way the High Council would retaliate if we were to go off without their permission.”
“What about a shuttle?” I suggested. “Who can we trust? Who can we spare?”
“Not Nion, unfortunately,” Haelian said with a frown. “I promised him leave so he could check on Alyse. And if any of us left, it would be too obvious.”
“You both have cubs on the way too,” Leonix reminded Haelian and Kloran. “It would not be prudent. We need warriors without land or titles to their names.”
“Ronan,” I suggested immediately. As a navigator, he would be more than capable of finding his way to Atlanta’s location without the aid of the Avant Lupinia’s superior navigation systems. “And, as much as I hate to say it…”
“Gallix,” Kloran, Haelian and Leonix all guessed at once.
I nodded. “He is a blowhard and a braggart, but he is a fair pilot and a fierce warrior when he is able to keep his mouth shut. More importantly, he can be trusted. They both can.”
“I will dispatch them right away,” Haelian said. Already, he was making his way to the door. He only paused to look back and give me a final gaze of sympathy. “I am sorry for your loss, Coplan. You deserve a…a promotion, or something of a similar manner. The work you did with Savii was…”
Haelian shook his head as if he could sense that this was the wr
ong thing to say and took his leave without finishing his thought.
“You will have to forgive him, Coplan. We all know that a promotion will not truly help,” Kloran said, placing his hand on my shoulder again. His fingers slipped away as he made his own way to the door. “Though, you are welcome to one if you wish it. I will arrange for the shuttle. While Savii is handed off to Idria’s people, we should be able to send Ronan and Gallix off without distraction.”
Leonix and I stood in the comms room in silence after Kloran and Haelian were done. It was an uncomfortable silence, but not on our account.
There was simply nothing left to say.
“You should go to the medical bay, Coplan,” she finally suggested. “There will be a resupply shipment in to deal with. It will take your mind off things. Something I think you sorely need right now.”
“Do you think it will help?” I asked. My voice sounded as hollow as the rest of me felt.
Of course it would not help. Savii was gone. Forever. For good.
Nothing would help me now. Not even time.
“You love her,” Leonix said simply. It was not a question. She knew as well as I did. “Did you tell her, before she went?”
“How could I?” I turned for the door. This was not a conversation I wanted to be having right now—not with Leonix, nor with anyone else. “She was never mine to keep.”
I found Nion in the medical bay, looking more tired than ever. It surprised me. Now that we were on Lunaria, I assumed that he would have taken off to see Alyse right away.
“You look terrible,” I intoned as I passed him.
“So do you.” Nion struck out a hand to stop me. “I saw them send Savii off, Coplan.”