Dysis was impressed at the serenity in his face. He knew he’d done something wrong and was prepared to accept the consequences. He neither begged nor argued, just waited patiently, hands relaxed at his sides.
At last, Commander Helos spoke. “The maximum penalty for Specialist Pavlos’s crime is six months’ confinement, an additional six months’ probabtion, and forfeiture of pay. However, in light of Specialist Pavlos’s unique circumstances and obvious commitment to the Atalantan Military, I will instead recommend to my superiors that he be allowed to remain on point and serve probation, rather than the full sentence. Specialist, you will lose all bonuses, award for service, and accrued leave.” He consulted his notes. “In addition, Major Vadim has requested your presence at the ceremony to honor Lieutenant Haan tomorrow. I will grant you a two-day pass to attend. But you will not be eligible for any award or bonuses related to this mission. Do you understand these penalties as they’ve been relayed to you?”
Calix nodded, his expression never changing. Dysis rolled her eyes. He’d just gotten the equivalent of a slap on the wrist and he didn’t even smile.
After the commander dismissed him, Calix shook the hands of his other advocates, thanking them for their kind words. Dysis had almost made it to the door when he stopped her.
“Thank you for coming.”
Shrugging, she said, “It was an order. Aris and Major Vadim are already in Ruslana preparing for the ceremony. They would have come if they could.”
“Still.” He studied her with an unreadable expression. “I appreciate it.”
“Well, I, uh . . . appreciate what you did for Daakon,” she said grudgingly.
She could have told him she’d been wrong about him. That he’d earned her respect. But she turned on her heel and left the room instead.
Chapter 40
Aris had seen the Ruslanan capitol building on news vids plenty of times—the tall arching windows, the swirls of mosaic flooring, the colorful dresses of foreign dignitaries. But somehow, standing there in the center of all the finery, it was all so much bigger—so much more—than she expected. She and Milek were hidden in an antechamber, but its frosted glass wall had etchings she could peek through. Her eyes scoured the crowd for her parents. She’d spoken to them several times over comms in the last few days, but this would be the first time she’d see them in person.
Aris turned to Milek, who looked dashing in his trim dress uniform. “Do I look okay?”
She’d never cared much about clothes or hair or any of that—not like her old friends from home, who could spend hours debating the latest fashions. But then, she’d never been the honored guest at a ceremony in a foreign capital either. Her hands darted nervously to her close-cropped hair.
Milek put a warm hand on her exposed shoulder. “You look beautiful.” His gaze traveled from her eyes, heavy with sparkling makeup, to her sweeping off-the-shoulder emerald gown. “Perfect.”
“I feel silly,” she said.
Milek’s mouth quirked in a little grin. “Doesn’t seem real, does it? After months in the field, everything is so . . .”
“Bright?” she offered. His admission calmed her racing heart. It was a comfort knowing he wasn’t feeling entirely at ease either.
“I was going to say clean.”
Aris laughed.
“Aris?” The tentative voice drifted from the doorway. She turned, and her smile widened.
“Mother?” Aris stared in awe. Krissa had traded her worn apron for a glittering fuchsia gown, her soft auburn curls twisted into an elaborate updo. Beside her, Gus, Aris’s father, shifted awkwardly from foot to foot in a stylish tunic and flowing pants.
“Oh dear.” Krissa swept forward and folded Aris into a warm, solid, real hug. “Oh Gods.” Her body began to shake with silent sobs.
“I know, Mother. I know.” Aris breathed in Krissa’s scent. Even here, she still smelled of basilis and browned butter, as if she’d just finished making dinner. Aris clung to her.
A hand squeezed her shoulder. She looked up to her father gazing down at her. He’d aged since she’d seen him last. His pale hair was thinner, and the weathered grooves of his face had deepened. But the quiet joy of his smile was unmistakable. Aris threw her arms around him.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Aris said at last, stepping back. She drank them in, appreciated their familiar faces, and loved them all the more. The last few weeks had taught her to value every single moment with the people she loved.
“How I’ll enjoy seeing our daughter being honored by the Ward of Ruslana!” Krissa exclaimed, squeezing Aris’s shoulders. The affectionate gesture also served as a not-so-subtle reminder to stand up straight.
For once, Aris found it more endearing than annoying. Amazing how distance and almost-death softened her toward her parents. Beside her, Milek cleared his throat.
“Oh!” Aris stepped back to include Milek in their little circle. “Major Vadim, you remember my parents from the . . . ah . . . funeral?”
Milek bowed to her father, who returned the gesture. “It’s a pleasure to see you under better circumstances.” He turned back to her. “Lieutenant, the ceremony will be starting soon. May I escort you to your seat?”
Aris nodded. She gave her parents each another quick hug. “I’ll see you afterward. Come find me.”
They nodded with pride and relief and wistfulness. Something in their eyes told her they were at least trying to understand this new life of hers and why it was so important.
Milek took her arm and led her through the milling crowd. He walked with his back straight and his movements precise, befitting an officer escorting an honored guest, but she knew he held her tighter than was strictly necessary. Being so close to him here, after their short but agonizing separation, made her ache to touch him even more. Her fingers drifted back and forth against the smooth fabric of his jacket, tracing small circles.
Despite the opulence around them, the war raged just as violently as ever beyond these walls. But Aris couldn’t connect to that horror right now. It was always there, dogging her, along with the memory of Daakon’s still body. But here, in this beautiful room filled with clinking glasses, swishing dresses, and tinkling music, her brain took a momentary holiday. Her eyes drank in the colors, so cheerful. The women in swirling gowns, the smiles, the voices raised in laughter, not in pain. It was okay that people were having fun, enjoying this moment. For once, there were things to celebrate. It was okay that Aris found herself happy. Milek pulled her just the slightest bit closer to him. She glanced up and caught his quick, private smile.
They stepped onto the raised dais at the end of the room, where two rows of chairs sat to one side of the podium. Several of the chairs were already filled: Dysis, her brother Jax, Otto, Pallas, Mann, Baksen, even Calix, who’d been allowed to attend the ceremony, though he wouldn’t receive any formal award for his part in recent events.
Milek led Aris to a seat in the first row between Pallas and Dysis. He took the seat directly behind her. Dysis leaned into her shoulder for a split second, and the two girls shared a smile.
Aris’s best friend looked positively regal in her silver-green dress. She’d applied little makeup, except to highlight the key-shaped Tech brand on her temple with silver glitter.
On Aris’s other side, Pallas whispered, “Can’t believe I’m here. And in a dress!”
At that moment, the lights dimmed, darkness pressing in from outside the tall windows. Voices quieted, bodies shifted to face the dais. By the time Ward Vadim and Ward Nekos took the stage, the room was silent. Ward Vadim approached the podium.
“Good evening,” she said. “Thank you for joining me as we honor Lieutenant Haan and the rest of her brave team for their part in my rescue and in the apprehension of my abductor.”
Ward Vadim raised a hand, the look on her damaged face positively triumphant. It made Aris raise her own chin with pride. “Today marks an enormous victory for those who oppose the unsanctioned and, frankly, evil
leadership of Ward Balias.”
The audience burst into applause.
“Let’s not forget,” Ward Vadim continued. “This blow would not have been possible without the brave men and women of our Military. While our two dominions have been squabbling over whether women should be allowed to stand in line beside their brothers, three of our female soldiers played instrumental roles in Elom’s capture.”
Ward Nekos stepped up beside her at the podium. Together, a united front.
“Today we honor the brave soldiers involved in my rescue,” Ward Vadim said, “as well as in Elom’s capture. But these triumphs did not come without a price. Four soldiers lost their lives during these missions. Lieutenants Wolfe and Daakon, of Ruslana, as well as Lieutenant Talon and Specialist Galec, of Atalanta. They made the final sacrifice to uphold the values and laws of our great dominions. Please join me in a moment of silence to honor their contributions and their memories.”
As silence stretched throughout the room, Aris bent her head in remembrance. Beside her, without a sound, Dysis cried.
Chapter 41
The music moved along Aris’s skin, sinuous as ocean currents drawing her out to sea. The ceremony attendees pressed close in the center of the room, swaying and spinning in a dizzying procession of color as dresses caught the light.
The musicians broke into a new song, fast and sensual. All around Aris, couples were pairing off, twisting closer and closer to each other in the insulating light. In the center of the floor, she saw a streak of green as Pallas twirled by in Baksen’s arms.
Dysis leaned closer to her. “Do you think we should—”
Before she could finish her thought, Calix appeared out of the crowd. His face was still splotchy with bruises, but his leg didn’t seem to bother him anymore.
“May I?” he murmured. Not to Aris, but to Dysis. Without waiting for an answer, he took her hand. They spun deep into the crowd, their bodies pressed against each other, Dysis tall and sparkling, Calix a steady presence in his uniform.
Aris watched, open mouthed. Didn’t expect that. From the flash of wide eyes she saw as Dysis spun away, her friend hadn’t either.
“I guess that leaves us?” Jax said, offering his hand and a friendly smile.
Aris’s stomach jolted. She hadn’t noticed him approach. When she turned to smile at him, it sent another shock through her. Every time she looked at Jax, she saw Dysis. She couldn’t help it. Disguised as a man, Dysis had looked almost exactly like her brother.
“Uh, sure.” Aris took Jax’s hand. The music was her favorite kind: throbbing and rich, enticing. It reminded her of The Toad, the bar back home in Lux.
Jax was a handsome man with mischievous eyes, hard muscles, and a full-lipped smile that turned most girls to mush in his hands. Aris was less accommodating. It took all her strength not to glance around the room for Milek. But they’d agreed it was best to keep their distance in public.
“He’s standing just at the edge of the dancers.” Jax swayed his hips, drawing her with him into a tight turn. He didn’t lose the beat or falter, but his gaze was knowing.
“Excuse me? I don’t . . . I mean—” Aris blustered.
“I’m a spy, Aris.” Jax grinned. “Although my training isn’t entirely necessary in your case.”
Warmth flooded Aris’s cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course you do.” He spun her, tracing his hand along her waist as she twisted and turned back to him. “And so does Major Vadim. Incoming.”
A hand touched her arm. “Lieutenant Haan, I need to speak with you,” Milek said. “It’s urgent.”
Every part of her wanted to reach for him, fall into him. She focused on his words. The beat of the music still pounded in her chest, but she fought its hold on her. “Of course, sir,” she said, careful to keep her voice blank and casual, as always.
Jax dropped his hand from her waist. “Anything I can help with, sir?”
“Thank you, no, Lieutenant Latza. This is a highly sensitive matter, for which Lieutenant Haan’s expertise is invaluable. Please excuse us.” Without removing his hand from her arm, Milek drew her away from Jax.
It wasn’t until they reached the edge of the dancers that Aris picked up on the true urgency in Milek’s movements. His hand on her arm was clenched so tight it was almost painful, and he walked quickly, without his usual grace. Something is terribly wrong.
Automatically, her eyes swept the gathering, looking for her parents. No. They already went to bed. She’d seen them off herself less than an hour ago. And they were staying in a room here in the capitol. Lots of security. They were safe.
“What’s going on?” she asked quietly, as they wove through the thinning crowd of revelers. “Is your mother alright?”
The main hall was flanked by two sprawling wings. The western wing held offices and smaller meeting rooms for official dominion business; the eastern one held rows of bedrooms for traveling dignitaries, security, and honored guests. Milek slowed as he approached the tall doorway that led to the eastern wing. A giant man with two solaguns strapped to his waist waited with a scanner.
“Good evening, sir,” the guard said, nodding placidly to them.
Milek placed his hand on the scanner, and with a high-pitched beep it identified him as an overnight guest. Next it was Aris’s turn. Her heart pounded. What was going on? Had something happened back in Spiro?
When a second beep sounded, the two frosted glass doors slid apart in silence.
“Please, Milek,” she whispered as they passed by the guard into the long, echoing hallway, their shoes clicking loudly on the marble. “What’s so urgent?”
He turned and backed her up against the wall, his hands snaking around her waist before the door had finished sliding close. “This. You,” he answered, and kissed her in that soft, insistent way she loved.
Even as her hands found their way to the back of his neck, drawing him closer, her eyes flashed to the doorway. The frosted glass wasn’t entirely opaque. “What if someone sees?”
“Let them.” He kissed her harder. He tasted of pineapple and dark, red wine. Her fingers dug into the skin at the base of his skull and a soft moan escaped her lips.
Not for the first time today, she wished she was wearing her uniform. If she was, she could slide her leg up his, he could pick her up so she straddled him, he could press her harder against the wall. But her dress’s full skirt caught between them.
Still, Milek’s heat filled her. His lips singed hers. He made her ache.
A voice. “Good evening, sir.” It was the guard on the other side of the door speaking to another guest.
Milek pulled away, grinning. “Come on.”
By the time the door slid open, they were running hand in hand down the hall.
Aris was slowed by the heavy skirts and high heels, but she could still run fast enough to feel a cool breeze against her cheeks. They skidded around a corner, giggling like children. Milek punched the panel for the lift, and once inside they kissed breathlessly, still laughing, until they reached their floor.
“Come with me,” Milek murmured, drawing her past her own door.
Aris’s heart danced a crazy rhythm. They hadn’t found a single moment to be alone since she’d returned from Safara. But here they were, alone in this long, dim, richly carpeted hallway. With their own rooms. With privacy. Oh Gods.
Outside Milek’s door, he paused before opening it and took a deep breath. Like he was steadying himself. Aris looked at him curiously. He swept his passcard over the panel, and the glossy faux-wood door slid into the wall.
“Aris.” The way he said her name raised goosebumps along her arms. He stepped over the threshold first and turned to her, reaching for her hands, drawing her into the room.
It was dim, flickering. Lit by candlelight. Aris’s breath caught. On every flat surface, candles burned. The light bent and moved, a golden dance against the walls. Soft, sinuous shadows flowed across the ivory bed.
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And there, on a small table just beside the bed, clean and white, with a faceted ice-blue crystal embedded in it . . .
A Promise candle, unlit.
Aris’s eyes flew to Milek’s face. “Is that . . . I mean . . .” The words wouldn’t come.
He led her to the table, taking a place across from her, the candle and its two smaller, lit brothers between them. For the first time, maybe ever, Aris noticed nervousness in the crease between Milek’s brows, the restless way he rubbed his palms back and forth against each other and cracked his knuckles. Inside, her own nerves stretched taut as a fishing line.
“I . . . I had this all planned out before you were shot down.” He cleared his throat, his usual gruffness fading. “You don’t know how happy I am to have you here. To have a second chance.” Another pause, a little smile. “I have a speech.” Aris couldn’t breathe.
“Ever since that day in the cave, when your veil broke and I discovered who you really were, my life has been completely different. It was like a door opened. You were so beautiful, with your real face and your real body right there next to me. I couldn’t believe how brave you were. And now, after these past few months together, I am even more in awe. You give me strength, a support I never realized I needed.” He grinned, looking oddly boyish despite his scar. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a little happier now than when we first met.”
Aris gave him a sardonic look, though inside she was glowing brighter than a million candles. “When we first met, your mother had been kidnapped. You had plenty to be unhappy about.”
“True. But it’s more than that and you know it.” He continued, more quickly. “I’m happy with what we have. But I . . . well, I’m scared that we won’t be able to have it anymore if we don’t act now. Military will establish rules against relationships like ours eventually. Maybe soon. And I don’t want us to have to choose between being who we are and being together.”
As she stared into Milek’s eyes, Aris felt hot and cold at once. So much they hadn’t said and there it all was, plain as day.
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