The Lily and the Crown

by Roslyn Sinclair

  “I have never seen a soul in these quarters other than the two of us. Except for the day I arrived, when you were talking to that fat botanist.” Assistant tilted her head. “Not that I’m pining for visitors, but it strikes me as odd.”

  Ari looked down into her food. “Odd?” she said, trying to keep her voice light. “Why should it be odd?”

  “You’re a young woman,” Assistant said. “Your father is the stationmaster. There are nearly four thousand occupants of this station. Why am I the only person you speak to, day in and day out?”

  “I…”

  “What society did you have before I arrived?”

  “I just don’t talk to people much,” Ari mumbled, still staring down at her plate.

  “You handle yourself fine when we go for walks,” Assistant pointed out. “You seem a little shy, but that’s all. And you’ve got curiosity about the universe to spare. It can’t be simple agoraphobia.”

  “I’m not agoraphobic!” Finally, Ari looked up to glare at Assistant, who, cool as a cucumber, looked right back. She tried not think about how curiosity to spare sounded a bit like a compliment. “I just like it in here with my plants.”

  “As opposed to?”

  Ari tilted her head toward the door. “Out there with them.”

  “Why?” Assistant, persistent and merciless, leaned forward over the table. “Why are there no friends who come to visit, no young men knocking down your door? How isolated can one person possibly—”

  “Shut up!”

  Assistant’s mouth snapped shut, and she stared at Ari in obvious surprise. Frankly, Ari was surprised herself. She never spoke to anybody that rudely. But what did Assistant expect, implying that Ari was some kind of, of… “Nothing’s wrong with me!”

  “I didn’t say there was,” Assistant said, sounding cautious now.

  Ari looked back down at her food. “My father and I moved around a lot, okay?” she said. “I told you that. Almost every year he gets a new posting. Always a promotion,” she added quickly.

  Assistant nodded, her expression never changing.

  “I-I mean, he’s really good at what he does—but every time I made a friend…and, you know, I didn’t make many.” Ari swallowed hard and shrugged. “I never cared about what other kids cared about. I don’t care about clothes, or music, or boys, or how I look. And I’m not very good at sports or games. I just like science. I like my plants.” She stabbed her fork into a piece of celery. “My plants like me. They don’t talk about me behind my back, or tell me to stop asking questions, or make me feel stupid and ugly.”

  “You are neither,” Assistant said quietly.

  “That’s very nice of you.” Ari stood, her lunch not even half-eaten. “I need to get back to work.”

  “But surely you—”

  “You take as long as you want to eat.” Ari hurried back into the garden, glad to disappear behind the leaves.

  ~ ~ ~

  Later that afternoon, as Ari tapped the sap of Quercus alba, she said, “You know, if…if you’re lonely here…I, maybe I could—” Could what? The sentries would never let Assistant walk around by herself after what had happened when she arrived.

  “I was thinking of you,” Assistant said. “It isn’t good for a person to be so much alone.”

  “I’m not, though.” Ari kept her gaze firmly fixed on the sap. “I mean…plants can’t leave. I had to leave people all the time, so I found plants. They work really well.”

  “Plants,” Assistant said, “are no substitute for people.”

  “That’s a strange thing for you to say,” Ari observed.

  Assistant blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, your experiences with people don’t seem to have been the best.” Ari fought not to look away as Assistant’s eyes grew cool, which they did whenever Ari brought up her past. “I might have had some bullies at school, and people might have laughed at me, but you must have seen so much wor—”

  “Don’t presume to know what I’ve been through,” Assistant didn’t look angry, exactly, but the tone should have been enough to stop Ari in her tracks.

  It wasn’t. If Assistant wanted to make Ari self-conscious, then she should be ready to have that turned back on her. Besides, more than ever now, there was something Ari just had to make her understand.

  She looked her in the eye. “I know I can’t presume,” she said. “I’m not saying I have a right to know. But what you need to know is that nothing like that’s ever going to happen to you again. Nothing—” Were those actual tears gathering in her eyes? While Assistant gave her that closed, hooded look? Shoot, shoot, shoot! Ari focused on the sap again. “Look, even if I’m not the most exciting company, I’ll never let you get hurt. That’s all I mean.”

  Assistant was silent.

  Ari couldn’t look up. Her heart was racing.

  “You’d take on the pirates for me, would you?” There was no mockery in Assistant’s voice. There wasn’t much of anything, it was the neutral tone she often used, but there might have been the slightest—slightest—tinge of respect.

  Well, that would be something. Ari still didn’t look up, because maybe she was misconstruing that and there would be laughter in Assistant’s gaze after all. That would be unbearable. Instead, she just shrugged. “Well, it’s not like I’ll ever have to, but…I mean…”

  She knew what she meant, but how could she say it? How could she tell Assistant what it felt like to have somebody—a person—to look out for, to care for, for the first time in Ari’s life? Assistant might be the one who arranged for the food and told Ari to wash her hands, but Ari’s responsibilities to her were so much greater.

  That was a terrifying idea. Terrifying, and wonderful, and it threatened to overturn everything she knew about herself and everything she’d thought she’d wanted. All this because she’d been given a slave she didn’t want, and whose servitude Ari found horrible to begin with.

  She managed, “Anyway, it’s not like I never talk to people. You’re here now.”

  “So I am,” Assistant said, and the conversation was over. Ari tried not to sag against the tree in relief.

  They spent two whole hours in the Observatory that evening, and Ari made a point of complimenting the superintendent on how much he’d grown the library since her father’s arrival. “There’s a lot of great…things,” she said, looking at the datapads and antique books that filled the shelves next to the study carrels, where Assistant sat looking over the star charts again.

  “Thank you, Your Ladyship,” the superintendent replied, obviously surprised at speaking with the stationmaster’s notoriously reclusive daughter. It was enough to make Ari’s stomach writhe with discomfort. She glanced over to see Assistant looking at her, instead of at the charts, and she felt like she might explode from either embarrassment that Assistant could see her ineptitude firsthand, or hope that Assistant might see that at least she was trying.

  Either way, Assistant said nothing about it when they returned to their quarters. But when they retired for the night, she told Ari, “Sleep well, Ariana.”

  Ari didn’t sleep well. She couldn’t stop thinking about what Assistant had said earlier, when Ari had said she was here now. “So I am.”

  Sure, Assistant was here. She didn’t have much of a choice. And she might not be nice, not exactly, but she was good to Ari and deserved a better shake out of life than she’d gotten. From being a slave to pirates to being a slave on a space station where people talked about whipping her—of course she didn’t have to worry about that anymore, or about anything else. But, well, it wasn’t exactly anybody’s ideal life, was it?

  Ari’s hands fisted in the blankets she’d pulled up to her chin. The low hum of the air recycler was the only sound in the room.

  She had responsibilities, both to Assistant and to her own conscience. There was only one way to satisfy them both. It didn’t matter what Assistant thought about human nature. Sometimes people could do the right thing. And so
on, Ari would prove it to her.

  CHAPTER 5

  It was one thing to make a noble, selfless decision and quite another to carry it out.

  The first part had felt almost good. The second part was far more painful than Ari could ever have guessed. Two days after the banquet, and after a great deal of careful (and painful) consideration, Ari made a rare journey beyond her quarters by herself.

  She told a curious Assistant that she’d heard a new shipment of plants had come in and was sitting in a cargo bay. “I just want to see them,” she said, heading quickly for the door. “You stay in here. Just, um, relax.” She herself didn’t manage to relax until the door shut behind her and she could no longer see the questions in Assistant’s blue eyes. After all, it would be best not to think about Assistant’s eyes so much now.

  Ari didn’t go to any cargo bays. Instead, she went to her father’s rooms, about a ten-minute walk away, following an elevator ride up two floors. Yet again, she crossed paths with several people, many of whom seemed to recognize her. She could seldom return the favor.

  There was one person she knew, however. When she got closer to her father’s quarters, the station’s top medical physician met her in the hall.

  Dr. Eylen was a petite woman with dark skin and short-cropped, curly black hair. She was also military personnel, and she greeted Ari with a short bow. “Your Ladyship.”

  “H-hi,” Ari said. She wasn’t often approached, and apparently the superintendent of the Observatory hadn’t been sufficient practice for her. Hopefully, small talk wasn’t in her future. “I mean, hello, Doctor.” She glanced down the hallway that led toward her father’s quarters. A sudden pang of unease struck her. “Um, you’ve just been to see my father?”

  “Yes, Your Ladyship.” Dr. Eylen’s face grew more cautious. “Just a routine visit, nothing more.”

  Since when did Ari’s father require routine visits? He’d never mentioned anything like that. “Oh. That’s good.” She shifted from foot to foot. Eye contact—maintain eye contact. It was what Assistant would do. “I guess that means the fever isn’t back or anything.”

  “If the fever was back, he’d be quarantined, Your Ladyship. I assume you’re on your way to visit him?”

  Of course he would have been quarantined. What a dumb question. “Yes. I didn’t call ahead, though. He’s usually taking a break this time of day.” It was nearly time for lunch. Maybe they could eat together. “He’s well enough to see me?”

  Did Dr. Eylen hesitate? It was hard to tell, for then she said, “I should think so. I’m sure he’d like to see you. It’s not often that you’re out and abou—” She stopped and cleared her throat.

  Ari’s face scalded. “No. I’m very busy. I’m working on a big new project in my garden. Maybe you heard about it?” Maybe from her father? Surely when he met with a doctor or someone, that someone would politely ask after his daughter. And surely he’d say something about the work that consumed Ari’s life.

  “No, I haven’t,” Dr. Eylen said with a smile and raised eyebrows, the kind that meant fake interest. “If I weren’t heading back to sickbay, I’d love to know all about it. You’ll have to stop by and tell me sometime.”

  “Right,” Ari said, her mouth going dry. Well, her father was a busy man. When he met with doctors, then the conversation was undoubtedly limited to medical issues and nothing more. “That’s nice of you. Thanks.”

  Dr. Eylen gave Ari another short bow before leaving. Ari waited until she was out of hearing distance to heave a deep sigh and then continued on her way.

  Dr. Eylen’s assurances that Ari’s father was fine didn’t seem to hold up at first. When Ari arrived at her father’s quarters a few minutes later, he was resting and looked paler than he had the night of the banquet. Today, his smile was tired.

  “Good morning, Ariana,” he said, and turned his head so she could give him the usual, oddly formal peck on the cheek.

  “Good morning, Father. I saw Dr. Eylen leaving your quarters.” Ari couldn’t help fidgeting as she straightened up. “Is everything okay?”

  Her father’s expression never changed from the slightly bland smile. “It’s just my usual check-up. I’m sure it’s time for yours, by the way, isn’t it?”

  “She didn’t say anything about it.” Hopefully Ari hadn’t sounded too evasive. When had her last check-up been, anyway? Last year? “I feel fine. Great.”

  “I’m very glad to hear it. What brings you here today?”

  Ari wondered if other parents and children needed excuses to see each other. But all she said was, “Father, I’ve come here about Assistant. My, um. My slave.” She swallowed. “You remember? You met her at the banquet.”

  “Yes. The one we captured from the pirate vessel.” He smiled grimly. “I remember quite well.”

  “Oh,” Ari said. “Well…yeah, her.”

  “Is there a problem?” Her father’s gaze sharpened. “Is she disobedient?”

  “Oh, no,” Ari said quickly. It was the truth. It was hard to be disobedient if nobody ever gave you orders. “I like her. A lot.” She tried not to blush. “She’s great.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I was wondering if…” Ari wrung her hands and looked at her feet. Why was this so difficult, when it was obviously the right thing to do? “Would you set her free?”

  “Free?” Her father sounded incredulous.

  “It doesn’t feel right.” Ari took a deep breath at her father’s surprised expression. “She’s not a piece of property. She’s a person. I don’t like thinking of her as my slave.”

  She remembered her father’s disapproving face after she’d questioned the practice of slavery as a child. He’d warned her not to speak of it again. It was hard not to retreat and apologize just from the memory.

  “But a slave she is,” her father said and added very firmly, “and a slave she will remain.”

  “What? Why?” There were so many slaves on the station already. One more or less couldn’t possibly make any difference. And here was Ari, making a proper, daughterly request and everything.

  “I wished for you to have a companion,” her father said. “And I saw at the banquet that you were happy with her.”

  What, that again? First Assistant, then Dr. Eylen, and now her own father—apparently everybody thought she was a pathetic hermit. Ari heard a surprisingly sharp note in her own voice when she said, “I am. But I wish you’d set her free.”

  “I don’t want you to be alone,” her father said flatly. “You have been, for far too long, and now I’m…” His voice trailed off, and he repeated, “I want you to have a companion. If not her, then I will find another. And this one seems to suit you well.”

  “She does!” Ari said, wringing her hands again. “But, I mean…if you set her free…” She looked down at her feet. “Maybe she might stay anyway.”

  Yes, maybe Assistant would stay. The station wasn’t so bad, obviously, and Ari would hold firm to her promise to provide for and protect her. Besides, where else did she have to go?

  There was a long moment of silence. Then her father said, kindly but with no yield in his voice, “I will not set her free. That is my final word on the subject.”

  But it made no sense! Ari opened her mouth to say so, and her father said, “Now, I need to rest. I have a great deal of work to do this afternoon. Give me a kiss, and don’t worry so much.”

  So much for having lunch. He tilted his head again and Ari, defeated, kissed his cheek. It was clean-shaven, per the military guidelines Lord Geiker followed as closely as the lowest private, but pale from serving aboard ships and space stations with no source of natural sunlight. Was he spending enough time beneath the heat lamps? Ari often hadn’t herself, but that was another detail Assistant had started insisting on.

  Dismissed, she drifted along the corridors back to her own room. It took longer this time, because she was lost in thought. Not just over her father’s odd behavior, but over her own reactions to it.


  Sure, she was confused. And sorry that she’d failed Assistant. But other than that, buried deeply in a tiny little part of her that she still found shameful, she was relieved. She’d tried to free Assistant. It hadn’t succeeded, though, and Assistant wasn’t going anywhere. Wasn’t leaving Ari. Like everybody else always did.

  As Ari had said, Assistant might have chosen to stay anyway; after all, she had no money of her own, and once she was allowed freedom of movement, no doubt she’d have found plenty to entertain her on the station other than the Observatory and Ari’s garden. But—well, now they’d never know. Assistant was staying. With Ari. Who’d done what she could, who’d tried, who couldn’t be blamed.

  When Ari returned to their quarters, Assistant gave her a long, cautious look. “You weren’t gone long,” she said. Ari glanced at a clock. Sure enough, only ninety minutes had passed. “I thought that an entire shipment of plants would keep you absorbed until dinner, at least.”

  “A shipment?” Ari said, wondering eagerly if such a shipment had indeed arrived. Then she remembered her lie and felt like a complete idiot. Had she really been so distracted? “I mean, yes. It wasn’t…there was hardly anything there. Just a few ferns, practically.” She laughed shakily.

  “Where were you?” Assistant said. “Really.”

  Ari straightened her shoulders and tried to sound very firm as she said, “None of your business.” Except that it was probably more Assistant’s business than anybody else’s. So,, when Assistant gave her an extremely pointed glare, Ari sighed, bit her lip, and mumbled, “I went to see my father.”

  “Oh,” Assistant said after a moment. “Is he unwell?”

  “No! He’s fine. I mean, he doesn’t look very good, but I’m sure after some rest, he’ll…” Ari stopped, took a deep breath, and said all in a rush, “I asked him to set you free.”

  Assistant’s eyes went wide. She looked positively stunned.

  “But he wouldn’t,” Ari added, realizing she might have given Assistant false hope. Judging by the shadow that passed over Assistant’s face, she had. “I’m so sorry,” Ari said, and this time she meant it. “He wouldn’t listen to me. I don’t know why.”