The Lily and the Crown

by Roslyn Sinclair

  “If you’re passed out from fertilizer fumes, so help me,” she grumbled, and Ari felt a pang of remorse for worrying her needlessly. “Ouch!” she added, and Ari realized she’d stubbed her toe for the second time on a pesky outgrown root.

  Assistant wasn’t the kind of person who stubbed her toes, and the thought (plus the look that was probably on her face) made Ari giggle. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand, but it was too late.

  Then everything went still and silent. “Ariana?” This time Assistant’s voice drawled with possibilities. “What are you up to?”

  Ari grinned so hard her face hurt, and bit her bottom lip. She gathered up her skirts and crept, almost crawling, to a new hiding place behind malinusis. Then she reached down, picked up a micropine cone, and tossed it to her right so that it would make a noise.

  “Hide and seek?” Ari shivered at the soft menace in Assistant’s voice. She was reasonably sure it was a pleasant shiver. “At your age?” A pause. “Very well. Just so long as you understand what I win at the end.”

  This time Ari’s shiver was definitely pleasant. She huddled up into a smaller ball, her heart pounding.

  But then there was nothing but silence. No more taunts from Assistant, no sounds of moving in the undergrowth, of seeking. Ari suddenly remembered how Assistant had leaped on her in the darkness on their second night together. But she hadn’t been expecting it then, hadn’t been listening for it, and now she was. And she still couldn’t hear anything.

  Her excitement suddenly blended with fear. Which was so strange—Assistant had said she’d never hurt Ari, and she hadn’t except for that once when she’d been too rough in bed. Even then she’d stopped as soon as she’d realized what she was doing, as soon as Ari asked her to. So there was no reason to feel apprehension, instead of the giddy glee of a few seconds before.

  Just…it’d be nice if maybe Assistant could make a little noise.

  Or maybe she was just standing still. Trying to freak Ari out. Which was working beautifully, and Ari was ridiculous for falling for it so easily. Assistant was obviously trying to lure Ari out of hiding by confusing her. Maybe she was even standing very close by. As quietly as she could, moving as little as possible, Ari peeked around the shrub.

  Nothing. Just leaves and ferns and soil and seedlings. Paranoid now, Ari looked over her shoulder. Nothing behind her, either. Or to either side. As far as she could tell, she was the only person in the whole garden. Except the front door hadn’t open or shut, and Ari knew Assistant was out there—in here—somewhere.

  Her heart was pounding harder than ever, and she was sweating and trembling a little. Adrenaline rushed through her until she couldn’t tell if it was fear or excitement or what, only that it made her feel completely and totally alive. This had never happened before Assistant. Never. She almost wanted to call out, to end the game and tell Assistant where she was, but she didn’t—she—

  A cool fingertip tapped her on the shoulder.

  Ari gasped and looked up, just in time to be shoved back down in the dirt by Assistant, who hadn’t been standing there only five seconds ago, or anywhere in sight. Ari had no chance to respond before Assistant covered her body with her own, grabbed Ari’s face in her hands, and kissed her so greedily that Ari wondered if she’d ever breathe again. Without preamble, Assistant reached down and cupped Ari between her legs, through her dress, squeezing and rubbing, and Ari came with a wheezing cry.

  Adrenaline, plus the lack of oxygen, made it feel like she came all the way from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes in one exquisite spasm of sensation. When she was done, the room was spinning in and out of focus while she struggled for air.

  “I win,” Assistant said.

  Ari gulped, wheezed again, and managed, “Me, too.”

  Assistant laughed. Ari blinked. It was a real laugh, such a wonderful sound. If only Ari could hear it every day. Now she laughed breathlessly, too, until Assistant kissed her again, still laughing and making no move to get up from the ground.

  “We do not need love.”

  Assistant had said that. But maybe she hadn’t meant it. Not completely. Maybe she loved Ari just a little bit, and felt like she couldn’t say it. It was possible, right? Anything was possible in a universe as vast as the one that lay beyond the station.

  Ari wrapped her arms around Assistant while Assistant nuzzled at her neck and decided that a little would be good enough, if she could get it.

  CHAPTER 12

  Lord Geiker died forty-eight hours later. Ari never saw it coming.

  The day had begun as usual. Assistant had graciously permitted her to finish tending their saplings before pressing her against an oak tree—her favorite this time—and sliding her fingertips up the inside of Ari’s thigh.

  “Why don’t you just go naked all day?” she suggested. “I’d enjoy that very much.” She squeezed Ari’s thigh. “Seeing this at every turn.”

  “Oh, no,” Ari said, firmly prepared to refuse if Assistant pressed the issue. “I’d get scratches everywhere.”

  “True,” Assistant acknowledged. She patted Ari’s thigh. “I don’t want this damaged.” She leaned in, bit Ari’s earlobe, and whispered. “It pleases me exactly as it is. Your skin.”

  “Oh.” Ari shivered. Assistant’s skin pleased her, too—at least, what she’d seen of it. Should she say so? She arched up as Assistant’s hand crept higher. “I…you know, I also like—”

  The door buzzed. Ari jumped and gasped, and Assistant pulled away in surprise. Ari quickly straightened her dress, wishing hard for her underwear, while Assistant smirked at her and headed to answer the door.

  An official stood there, dressed in deep blue. The color of mourning. And he regarded Ari with solemn, sad eyes.

  Ari, who’d just arrived in the kitchen, knew immediately what had happened. Judging by Assistant’s stiff posture and closed expression, she had figured it out, too.

  “Your Ladyship,” the official said quietly, “it is my sad duty to inform you that your father passed away two hours ago this morning. In his sleep.”

  “Oh,” Ari said. She couldn’t think what ought to come next. She just looked at the man, completely bewildered, while he expectantly awaited her response.

  “What happened?” Assistant asked, taking up the slack.

  The official frowned at being addressed by a slave, but he looked again at Ari and apparently decided to overlook it. “His heart,” he said. “He has not been well for a long time, Your Ladyship. You know, the fever, all those years ago…and he works—worked—so hard. It seems the strain finally got to him. Though nobody could have seen it coming,” he added quickly.

  “No,” Ari said faintly. “No. He saw it coming.” Because suddenly she saw her father’s pale face in her mind, telling her that he would not free Assistant, that he wanted Ari to have a companion, “Because I’m…”

  He’d known. He’d known. Why hadn’t he told her? Why hadn’t he allowed her to help care for him, or at least to say good-bye?

  “Your Ladyship?” the official said.

  “Are you sure?” Ari whispered, wringing her hands. Perhaps the guard was wrong. Perhaps they were all wrong. “You said he was asleep. Maybe…maybe…” She began to tremble. “Maybe you just haven’t tried hard enough to wake him up.”

  The official opened his mouth, closed it, and then said, “I’m afraid it is certain that he is gone, Lady Ariana. I am so very, very sorry.” He swallowed hard. “He was a good man. A fine stationmaster.”

  “Oh.” Ari trembled harder.

  Assistant noticed. She said quickly, “Are there death rites? Funeral arrangements?”

  This time, the official turned to her with relief. “Naturally. But the Lady Ariana need not trouble herself about that. All will be arranged. He wanted nothing grand, nothing ceremonial that people would have to come from all corners of the Empire to attend. Something simple. He left very specific instructions.” He smiled sadly. “He was always a thorough man
.”

  Ari couldn’t bear any more. She turned around and plunged back into the foliage, hearing the official exclaim something. But then she made it through the garden to the foot of her favorite oak, where she sat down very hard and leaned against the trunk until she felt the bark pressing into her cheek. She couldn’t hear anything but the chirp of the occasional cricket and her own rasping breath.

  Thorough. He was a thorough man. Except when it came to his own daughter…somehow neglecting to inform her that he was about to die.

  She would have done anything for him, anything to see to his comfort before they said good-bye. She would have told him how proud of his life’s work she was. She would have made sure the doctors gave him everything he needed. She would have held his hand.

  Maybe he would even have lived longer. Wasn’t there evidence for that? That when sick people were surrounded by love and support, they sometimes made surprising recoveries? Her father might not have known. A doctor should have told him. Perhaps he would have wanted Ari then.

  After some length of time, she heard footsteps.

  Assistant usually didn’t make any noise, so she was probably trying to let Ari know she was coming. Sure enough, after a moment, she appeared from behind a shrub, her lips held in a thin line.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Ari looked up at her. She had no response to that. No words. It would be nice if Assistant sat down next to her on the ground, put an arm around her or something. Then Ari wouldn’t have to talk; they’d just sit there until, perhaps, Ari started to cry, or do something else to prove she wasn’t numb inside.

  Assistant didn’t sit down. “You need to get up,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “There is work to be done. You will need to attend to your father’s affairs.”

  Ari kept looking at her. Assistant was getting blurry. “I want to see him,” she said, her voice thick.

  “Are you certain?”

  “Yes.” Ari had seen precious little of her father in life. The least she could do was grab the last chance she’d ever have.

  “All right.” Assistant gave Ari her hand, pulling her gently to her feet. “Shower and dress. Then we will go to his quarters. I understand he is still laid out there.”

  “Why didn’t he tell me?”

  “I don’t know.” Assistant pushed Ari’s hair out of her face, looking seriously into her eyes. “Come along now. Attend to your duties—do what you can for him, even though he’s gone.”

  Ari wasn’t sure what happened next, except that she thought Assistant was probably right—she usually was—and so eventually she found herself showered and dressed and walking down corridors with Assistant to her father’s quarters. She forgot where it was a couple of times, but Assistant seemed to know. She’d probably already memorized all the maps Ari had downloaded for her.

  Why didn’t he tell me? An awful little voice in the back of her head was already answering the question. She didn’t want to listen, but she couldn’t silence it. Maybe it would never be silent again.

  He didn’t tell me because he didn’t want me there. He never wanted me at all. He wanted to die without ever seeing me again.

  Assistant allowed Ari to walk very closely beside her, and even to hold her hand once or twice.

  When they had almost arrived, a solemn voice on the loudspeaker announced to the whole station that Ari’s father was dead. The people in the corridor stopped and stared at Ari as she walked by with Assistant, and before Ari’s eyes, their faces filled with pity. She didn’t want to see it. She couldn’t bear to look at them. Why should today be any different? So she kept her gaze on the floor, and let Assistant guide them the rest of the way to her father’s rooms, and press the door chime for entrance.

  Lord Geiker was laid out on his bed, already magnificent. The sheets were fresh beneath him, and he was in his dress uniform with the insignia of the Imperial Order of the Falcon shining on his breast. He’d always been proud of it. One of Ari’s earliest memories, from before her mother’s death, was of him polishing it with loving care. She’d even been allowed to hold it once or twice. It had felt so heavy in her little palm.

  Dr. Eylen stood at the foot of the bed and bowed her head to Ari in greeting. Then she took her hand. The official who’d broken the news was not there, but a sentry, wearing a blue armband, tipped his head respectfully as well.

  The doctor did not let go of Ari’s hand immediately. Ari had preferred Assistant’s grasp. But Assistant stood three paces behind her now.

  “My condolences, Your Ladyship,” Dr. Eylen said.

  “Thank you,” Ari heard herself reply.

  “Funeral rites will begin in two days. That will give enough time for emissaries to arrive. Here. You may see him.”

  Ari couldn’t say a word this time. She stood at her father’s deathbed and stared down at him. They’d closed his mouth and his eyes. He really did look like he was sleeping. But his chest did not move, and breath didn’t whistle out of his nose. Ari touched one of the hands folded on his breast. It was cold. She shuddered and pulled her hand away.

  “You have never seen death before.”

  Assistant’s voice. Ari started, and turned to see that they were alone in the room. Apparently, the doctor and the sentry had departed to give them some privacy.

  “You’ve never seen it,” Assistant repeated, and there was a look in her eyes that Ari had never seen there; it was a look of almost childlike wonder. “You don’t remember your mother’s death, do you?”

  Ari shook her head.

  “Did you even see her body?”

  “M-my father wouldn’t let me.” Just like he hadn’t permitted her to know of his own failing health. Or know anything else about him.

  Assistant reached her hand up and traced her fingertips over Ari’s cheek. Ari’s dry cheek. She still wasn’t crying. Why wasn’t she crying? Nothing around her seemed real.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she said. “What happens now?”

  “The funeral is in two days,” Assistant said. “And then you attend to your father’s affairs. You might well be his sole inheritor.”

  “He might have left stuff to the Empire,” Ari whispered. “He…sometimes they do, soldiers… He, he was very devoted…” She choked.

  “Shush now.” Assistant took Ari’s hand. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

  “He didn’t tell me,” Ari said. “He didn’t tell me.”

  “I know,” Assistant replied, and squeezed her hand.

  “He didn’t want me,” Ari said, before she could stop herself.

  Assistant’s mouth parted a little, but she said nothing. In an ordinary time, Ari would have enjoyed seeing her lost for words.

  “He never wanted me at all.” Ari looked back at her father’s corpse. “Why not? Is it because I look like my mother? I really don’t think I do. He made a mistake.” Her eyes grew hot. A lump built in her throat. “I feel like I could shake his shoulder, wake him up, and tell him he—he made a mistake—”

  “Ariana…”

  “But there’s no more time. I thought maybe someday—but there’s no more time, and he’s never going to want me.” The lump in her throat grew bigger. Her stomach writhed. Maybe she was about to vomit.

  “Ariana.” Assistant let go of her hand, took her by the shoulders, and tugged until Ari wasn’t looking at her father anymore. Instead, she stared into Assistant’s eyes, blue and troubled. “This isn’t the place. Let’s go back to our—your quarters. You don’t want to go to pieces here.” She squeezed hard enough to jolt Ari out of her daze. “Come along now. Come along.”

  Ari came along. There didn’t seem to be anything else to do. As they left, she saw that more people were gathering outside her father’s door, many of them already clad in blue. Ari wasn’t wearing blue. She hadn’t thought to put it on. Would she look like a bad daughter? Like she didn’t care?

  Guess it runs in the family, that horrible little voice said. Luckily, the bitter laugh that
burst out of her mouth could have passed for a sob.

  At that, Assistant put her arm around Ari’s shoulders, as if she didn’t care at all about the people who were looking. “Come along,” she repeated. “Quickly.”

  Ari didn’t know about “quickly,” but at some point she found herself standing in her kitchen while the door shut behind Assistant. Her garden lay ahead of her, the same as it had been this morning at the hour her father had passed away and she’d known nothing about it.

  Her eyes weren’t hot anymore. No lump in her throat, either. Just the numbness, back again and without ceremony.

  “I can’t feel anything,” she said to the nearest bush.

  Assistant answered for the bush. “You can, and you will. But you’re in shock now.” Her hand touched Ari’s shoulder again, much more gently now. “That’s all. You need to rest. There’s nothing to be done.”

  There was undoubtedly a lot to do—by people other than Ari. People who were following her father’s orders for how he wanted his funeral, people in charge of distributing his estate, people who would contact the Emperor and let him know Nahtal Station needed a new Lord Commander. But nobody needed Ari to do anything.

  “Yeah,” she said thickly.

  That night, for only the second time, Ari and Assistant lay in Ari’s bed without having sex. Ari kept her face tucked into Assistant’s shoulder. Assistant rubbed her back until she fell asleep.

  She didn’t dream.

  CHAPTER 13

  Ari wore a blue cloak to her father’s funeral. Its deep hood covered her face from the curious stares she knew she was getting. She had to sit on the front row between two important officials whose names she didn’t know or care about. Assistant stood with the other personal slaves at the back of the auditorium. Her father had kept four house slaves. Two wept at his loss as if their hearts were breaking. They’d obviously known him better than Ari ever had.

  So had everybody else. Two days after Ari’s father had died, little, insignificant Nahtal Station was full of dignitaries, ambassadors, and a personal representative from the Emperor himself. Many of them spoke about Lord Geiker’s illustrious career as a soldier and diplomat. A couple of them mentioned his “humility” and even the “noble sacrifice” he’d made by volunteering to come all the way out to the Rim instead of taking a more prestigious posting. It didn’t seem as if he’d lacked prestige, though. Everyone spoke of him with the greatest respect.