Page 38 of Summer

“Perhaps,” she echoes, thrusting my dance card back at me. It hits me in the chest, nearly knocking me over. I grasp at it dumbly, nearly crumbling it in my fingers.

“Try harder,” Mother growls, before turning on her heels to rejoin the ball and the party.

17

SUMMER

Aaoric spins me around, laughing along with me as we dance. We’re doing our part to look like we’re falling in love. He introduces me to couples and singles, telling them of the splendid match he found with me. Every so often, they switch to another language to speak about me, questioning. What took you so long? What’s so special about this one?

His answers are good natured, practiced – ones we prepared for. The smallest bit of hesitancy, to be so enamored after years of resistance would come off suspect. I play my part too, smiling blankly, an investment that was well worth the spend.

A status symbol, one that Aaoric happens to like.

I excuse myself from Aaoric. The loudness of the ballroom, the closeness of all the aliens, the heat – it’s uncomfortable after so many years of silence. I’d been to parties in space before my arrest, great masses of writhing bodies. No careful distance, no propriety, just open want and need.

The silence and solitude of Protegre did a much bigger number on me than I thought.

My gaze tracks over the crowd, trying to find Gennelle. I expect her to be sequestered to the dark corners of the ballroom, avoiding detection and her friends. She’s nowhere to be seen, so I take a lap around once. When I still can’t find her, I slip from the ballroom to the grounds.

The Kierant estate is grand, but it is nothing compared to the Vestinhoth estate. The purple grass that highlights the Vestinhoth estate is not here. Instead, there are hedges of fruit and vegetables, stretching for long rows. I consider walking through them, but the garden catches my eye.

The flowers are so strange here. Some are small, curled on themselves. Others are large and unfurl with the swipe of a finger. Some move their heads to follow the heat of a body. They’re almost sentient, and I wonder if this is another form of alien life. The thought sends an uncomfortable shiver down my spine.

I almost leave the garden for the party when I catch sight of dark red hair. She sits on a bench, staring into the horizon. The closest moon to Hothin crests on the horizon, casting a yellow glow. Overhead, the distant moon gives a silver spotlight to Gennelle.

She’s always been beautiful, but in this light, she’s ethereal. Her dark red hair trails down her left shoulder, framing her face and casting shadows along her high cheek bones. The red and gold markings on her forehead draw more attention to her bright yellow gold eyes. I could stand here and watch her all night.

She turns her head, as if she can feel my stare, and gives me a once over before turning back to the view.

I cross the courtyard and sit on the bench next to her, breathing in the evening air. It’s less humid at night, and while I appreciate the reprieve, I’ve also become accustomed to it.

“Shouldn’t you be dancing with your fiancée?” she asks, her tone flat.

“I’m rather danced out,” I say with a shrug. She doesn’t respond, just makes a humming noise. The silence that follows is not a comfortable one – it’s heavy, tense. I cast her a sideways glance, noting the way her jaw clenches.

“What’s your problem?” I ask.

“I don’t have a problem,” she retorts, unable to hide her anger as she speaks.

“So, you’ve come to the garden to admire their rows of fruit bushes?” I question. She shoots me a withering look, but the crack is there. “It’s no wonder they throw such a grand dance, it’s to keep everyone inside and away from their very sad property.”

The crack deepens and Gennelle chews on her lip. The moment passes quickly, and she’s somber once more, turning her face to me.

“Have you told my brother about us?” she asks, taking me by surprise.

“No,” I say quickly. She frowns, turning away. “Did you…want me to?”

“No! I mean,” she sighs, rubbing her forehead. “Truly, you haven’t said a thing to Aaoric?”

“I was under the impression you did not want others to know about it,” I say carefully.

“It would ruin the farce,” she replies.

“Exactly,” I say, and we lapse into silence again. It’s less tense but there’s still something there, something that makes my skin itch.

“Even if it didn’t, my mother made it very clear that with Aaoric secured, I must set my sights on marriage.” Her voice is quiet, and I hear the tremor, even as she swallows to suppress it.

“Thankfully, I am dying, and the focus will be off you…” I start, but she cuts me off.