by Aileen Erin
War was here. It was only a matter of time before I officially declared it. My only hope was that in this brief window while I tried to rally our allies, Amihanna was allowed a moment to feel safe and secure. To grow her voice as a leader of the Aunare. And also give her enough time to heal from the thirteen years of horrors she’d had to endure.
She didn’t know that’s what I had been doing, and I was sure she’d be annoyed or angry at me for it, but this time was my gift to her. These few weeks of peace were hers so that she could breathe, and during that little bit of peace, I’d seen her grow more and more confident in being Aunare. I wanted that for her. I wanted to give her that, even if she’d hate me for it. Because things were going to get bad and dangerous very, very soon.
Rysden stepped closer to his daughter. He’d noticed the sigh too, and when I looked at him, I saw the hope and pride clearly on his face. I doubted anyone else could see it, but this was the man who had taught me how to become the best version of me.
“You think otherwise,” Rysden said, giving her a little push to speak up.
“Yes,” she said.
“I’d like to hear what she has to say,” King Ceshal said.
So would I.
I stepped back, and let her take the lead. Because in the end, I was the High King, but she would be the High Queen. We could only win this war if we did it together.
This was it. The first step that I’d been waiting for.
Today she was finally becoming the leader I knew she could be.
Tonight, I’d let her know how proud I was of her, but right now, I’d stand aside and let her speak.
Chapter Four
AMIHANNA
Everyone in the High Council room—including the three Aunare kings and queen on the vidscreen—were watching me. Some with hope, but most of the council were wishing that whatever I said next would renew everyone’s doubt about me ruling with Lorne.
Whatever I was going to say would be the wrong thing, but I couldn’t stop myself. There was only one course of action to take if I was going to co-rule with Lorne.
So I took a breath to convince myself that I was worthy of that position, and then I spoke. “We should send immediate support to the colonies to back them up, and because we know that SpaceTech doesn’t make one move without making at least two more, we should be prepared for an attack on Sel’Ani. I want to meet with Captain ni Eneko right away and see what intel he has on the latest search for spies. I also think that we should send a force to SpaceTech’s colonies. Not inside their territory, but just outside. If they’re moving against us, we should be moving against them.”
“That would be a clear act of war.” There was a distinct outrage in Councilwoman Wishna ni Ilajan’s voice.
The woman was by far the youngest on the High Council, by at least a few decades. I thought that meant she’d be an ally for me. We were both young women, working in an environment where we were the clear minority. Of the twenty-five council members, only three were women, and only one could be considered “young.” Surely we could help each other? But I had been wrong, wrong, wrong.
I met her gaze with my own, daring her to say anything else.
The room was silent, so I pushed my point. “If putting ships right outside another nation’s colonies is an act of war, then I think SpaceTech has just shown you their intentions once and for all. Do you need other actions? How about their attack on Ta’shena? Their brutal slaughter on Sa’shotaem? Their genocide of the Aunare on their planets for the last thirteen years?” I stepped toward the council table. “If none of that counts as an act of war, what would count? What would make you declare war?”
I was met with silence.
I turned to my father, expecting to see disapproval, but instead, I saw something else. Pride? Was that really pride?
He gave me a slight nod, as if he could read my mind.
Wow. That was the first time I’d seen a look like that from him.
Did he secretly want to go to war?
“I’d like the answer to this question myself,” my father said.
“You recused yourself from this matter thirteen years ago because of biases,” Councilman di Yenam said. “I see no need to revisit—”
“I saw the need to step back from the argument then,” my father’s voice was calm as he interrupted the Councilman, but something about his tone felt like a false calm. There was a sharp edge to it that was meant to cut. “I agreed to the former High King’s order to stand down because my family was in peril. I wasn’t thinking in terms of the Aunare, although now that my daughter is here and I’ve learned so much, I wonder about the wisdom in that choice. I wonder if I’d stayed firm if we could’ve saved thousands of Aunare lives. The responsibility for not fighting against the former High King—for not staying true to my position as Hand of the King—all those years ago will be something that I will regret until I pass into the beyond. But I do not see the need for me to recuse myself for one moment longer.”
He’d recused himself? What did that mean? That he wasn’t allowed to wage war? Wasn’t that his job?
If that was the case, then his hands had been tied for a long time. Maybe he wasn’t as against war as I’d thought. Maybe I wasn’t alone in this fight.
“I disagree,” Councilwoman ni Ilajan said. “We’ve all seen the footage of her abuse. You have plenty to hold against SpaceTech as a father.”
I could see the validity of that argument. I could see it and then I could reject it because this wasn’t just about me. It was every Aunare on Earth that had been brutally slaughtered. It was every Aunare on Sa’shotaem that had been murdered. It was every Aunare life—whether on Sel’Ani or across the universe—that hung in the balance because if we didn’t act, SpaceTech would.
They would keep coming for us until the entire Aunare race had been eradicated from existence.
“I’m ashamed to admit that I allowed myself to be persuaded by the former High King,” my father’s voice was resigned yet confident, drawing everyone’s attention. Especially mine. “I traded my voice in this matter for the allowance of four missions to Earth per year to search for my wife and child. I no longer need those missions. I’m asking the current High King to allow me to speak on this matter again.”
He’d been there four times a year? He’d given up his power in order to search for us? Why was I just now learning this?
The room was silent as everyone waited to see what Lorne would say.
Lorne waited a moment and then nodded. “Allowed. Full powers restored.”
Something like peace washed over my father’s face for a moment before his eyes went cold.
“I’ve been forced to stay silent on this matter—” Someone scoffed, but my father continued on. “—and as the Head of the Aunare Military and the Hand of the King, I’ve found that silence to be increasingly hard to bear, especially with the events since Amihanna’s return. That we have not acted since Sa’shotaem was burned is an abomination. It is a sad day in Aunare history that we let that atrocity go unanswered. That you’ve let your thinking become filled with so much cowardice is sickening. This is not how the Aunare act. This is not who we are. We’re not afraid of an evil people less powerful than us. It’s preposterous. If SpaceTech attacks once more before we have acted, then any deaths will be on this Council’s heads.”
My father turned to Lorne. “As Hand of the King, I’m asking for your permission to act as I see fit in our retaliation on SpaceTech. I know that we are outside of the deadline to declare war for the latest attacks and that you must allow yourself some plausible deniability. I know your reasoning, and I’ve agreed with you up to this point. But let me act for you. Let me—”
“No.” Lorne’s single word made my heart ache.
All the hope of my father’s words destroyed with one tiny, two-letter word.
No.
“Why?” I should’ve waited until we were in private, but I needed the answer. I needed it now. “Why would you d
eny our right to war?”
Lorne shoulders hunched ever so slightly. It wasn’t enough that anyone would really notice, but I noticed everything about him. “There’s a clause in our alliance treaty that gives a time line for when I may declare war without repercussions from our allies. If we act outside of that time line, then we face war with everyone. Everyone.”
“What time line?” And why was I just now hearing about it?
“We have two days to act after any attack.”
“Then why didn’t you declare war? We were attacked weeks ago. You are the High King. Why didn’t you—”
“I was in the healing pod with you. I’d just been appointed. I… There’s no excuse, but the time slipped by before I was fully aware of the time line set in our alliance. If we act now, it’ll be us against our allies. All of them. We can win against SpaceTech, but I’m trying to find a way not to fight every advanced species in the universe.”
Oh God. This sounded awful. I was realizing how stuck Lorne must’ve felt. That he didn’t act right after the attacks on Sa’shotaem and Ta’shena must’ve been eating his soul.
“You sound perilously like your father. You cannot be afraid to act,” my father said.
I silently cheered my father on, even though I knew it hurt Lorne. I could see the pain on his face, even beneath his kingly mask. But I was my father’s daughter, and I wasn’t afraid to say the hard things either. Even if it hurt the person I loved most in this life.
“I’m nothing like my father.” There was an anger in Lorne’s voice that made me want to beg my father to back down, but this was too important.
I needed to know why we weren’t already at war.
Lorne took a moment to make sure his kingly mask was back in place. It probably worked for everyone else, but I was learning to see through it.
“Our relationship with our allies is currently extremely strained.” This time his voice was devoid of emotion, despite the depth of swirling emotions I saw under the surface. “You know how hard I’ve been working. I’ve been reaching out to every tie I have for the last few weeks, trying to get them to side with us, but no one is listening to me. No one will hear reason or logic. No one will see the truth. No one will agree to attend my in-person summit, and now I’m starting to wonder why.”
He’d called an in-person summit with our allies?
Why was I just now learning all of this?
I turned to Roan sitting in his spot by the door, but he gave me a tiny headshake. He didn’t know about any of this either.
At least I wasn’t the only one in the dark.
“I’m not my father,” Lorne said, and I turned back to him.
He was facing the Aunare kings and queen who were watching us from the vidscreen, his mask firmly in place. “I will not leave you out to defend yourselves alone. I’ll send three warships to each of you, plus support ships and fighter ships—ground, air, and space defense. I know that you have your own fleets, but it won’t be enough. Not if SpaceTech is rallying close by. I only ask that you don’t act first. Give me the chance to keep working on gaining the support of the allies. If you act first, you destroy everything I’ve been working on for the last few weeks. Undoing the damage my father has done… It’s been frustrating, but I have to try. The risk of not trying is too great.”
That sounded perfectly reasonable to me. “Is that enough?” I asked. “Will you be okay with three warships and the rest?” If not, I was going to fight for more because I wasn’t letting what happened on Sa’shotaem—on Earth—happen to our colonies.
“Yes,” Queen Layanae ni Taure said. “It will be enough to protect us should they attack and will allow time for additional support to make their way to whoever gets attacked first. Thank you, your majesty. We will do as you’ve asked.” She pressed her fist to her heart and gave Lorne a small bow.
“It is my duty to protect all of my people. I won’t leave you defenseless. You have my full support. Please, keep us informed. I’d like updates at least three times daily on the movements of SpaceTech in your area. Add more if something comes up. You have my personal codes.”
I wasn’t sure what had happened to make Lorne act, but I was so grateful I could cry. I wouldn’t, but I could’ve.
“We do. We appreciate your support.”
“You have it.”
King Ceshal di Noreya bowed with his fist to his heart. “I’m sure you have other matters to discuss with the High Council. We’ll leave you to it.”
King Midian ni Renu and Queen Layanae ni Taure bowed to Lorne, fists to their hearts, and then the screen went blank.
Okay. Okay. Maybe today wasn’t going to be such a wash. I wasn’t sure why today was the day that Lorne decided to start taking control of the High Council, but I was thankful for it.
Lorne turned to my father. “I know war is here, but I’m neither my father nor am I to be goaded into taking our Aunare military lives for granted. Do I want to destroy every last SpaceTech officer? Yes. I want them to burn in the fires of the Goddess’s pits for an eternity for what they’ve done to her.”
Lorne’s skin started burning brighter, and I stepped toward him. “Lorne,” I said, but he didn’t hear me. He was staring off at nothing, and I put my hand on his arm.
“I want them to burn for what they’ve done to our people on Earth, on the colonies, on Sa’shotaem. For coming to our home planet and attacking Ta’shena. But if I give in to that anger, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop at just SpaceTech officers. I’m not sure there will be Earther life left when I’m done. I’m not sure I’ll stop at Earthers. Anyone who stands in our way would be fair game.”
Lorne’s skin brightened so much that it almost hurt to look at him.
“Lorne,” I said louder this time.
“But I am the High King of the Aunare, and war is upon us. Not today. Not now. But very soon. Every day it grows closer. I hear what my shalshasa says every time she walks through those doors.” He pointed to the Council chamber doors behind me. “And I hear what you say to her and behind her back. I’ll have no more of it. Before we go to war, Amihanna is going to either purge this High Council or get rid of it entirely. It is at her discretion. We’ve tried to work with you, but my patience is ended.”
Oh. He was going to let me do it?
Yes, please. I’d been planning for this for weeks.
Lorne turned to my father, skin still ablaze but not yet flashing. “War is coming, and I’m desperately trying to find a way to make sure we’re not fighting the entire universe. Just SpaceTech. That’s been my sole effort these last few weeks. You know this. Right now, our allies’ refusal to stand aside if we should act against SpaceTech is the only thing holding me back, but it won’t hold me back much longer.” Lorne looked down for a second and then back at my father, and a little bit of his calm returned. Except it looked fake to me. Like a frozen facade over molten lava. Only there for an instant before melting. “How many days will it take you to mobilize that many warships to support Sem’ansh, Hemt’alan, and Veyet?”
My father swallowed before giving him a tiny nod. “Three days. Maybe four.” His voice was deep and soft, and I knew that he was aware how close Lorne was to losing control.
“And then, how long will it take you to build defenses around our home system? And another fleet moving throughout our territory? I want them mobile to defend, and when the time comes, I will want a unified move against SpaceTech. They are on the move, and that means our next two-day window to declare war will start soon. I need everyone off duty called in. Anyone on partial, too. We are at war, and it’s time to act like it.”
I stared at Lorne. If I was getting ready to dismiss this Council, then he shouldn’t be saying any of this in front of them. There’d been leaks and—
Oh. Right. He wanted this to get out. He wanted SpaceTech to know that we were going to fight and fight hard.
This would either cause SpaceTech to move quickly against us or make them run scared.
&n
bsp; My money was on them running scared, and from the way Lorne was talking, I was pretty sure that he’d agree.
Rysden took a breath, letting it out slowly. “Ten days. I can have everything ready by then.”
I wasn’t sure if my father was telling the truth. Could he mobilize faster? Probably.
“What of our allies?” my father asked. “How were this morning’s meetings?”
“They weren’t what I’d hoped, and they were cut short for this meeting. I have one more meeting left today, and if that goes poorly as well, then we’ll see what our next move is.”
I was scared for a second that he’d say something more, but he stopped.
“Can you get everything you need done? Or do you need more help?”
My father dropped Lorne’s gaze and bowed his head deeply. “I will make it so, your majesty.”
“Good.” Lorne closed the distance between us, his hand cupped the back of my head as he jerked me forward and pressed me to his chest.
I could feel his anger as if it were my own. His frequencies were dissonant, fast and frantic. “Are you okay?” I whispered into his chest.
His head dropped down until I could feel the heat of his breath on my cheek. “No.”
“I can go with you.” If I could balance him out, I had to try. “You have to breathe—”
“I’m late for another meeting. I have to…” I felt his measured breaths and out of the corner of my eye, I could see the flashing slowing.
His frequency slowed and deepened, leveling out until it was calmer. Not calm, but calmer.
“If this meeting goes well, then I’ll be late tonight,” he said. “Everything got pushed and… I don’t have time now, but I need to talk to you about something. I don’t want to make you stay awake, but—”
“I’ll wait for you.” I swallowed. While he was speaking, he’d gone from calmer and determined to worried so fast. I wasn’t sure what had crossed his mind, but there was no way I’d be able to go to sleep without talking to him. “Is everything okay?”