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“Where’s the best place to sit outside?” she asked the kids.
“Fountains,” Pia shouted.
Jax nodded with a half-smile that told Yasmine his sister’s excitement was making its way through his haze of frustration.
“Lead the way,” Yasmine said brightly, rising from the table.
Pia took her hand again and marched her back out to the main corridor.
Now that it was dark outside, the house itself stood out more than the decor or the light she had admired earlier. Moonlight flowed in through the skylights, casting shadows on the endless polished marble of the floors.
Though it was beautiful, she couldn’t help noticing the cold feeling of all that stone and the soaring ceilings. In some ways, the palace would be a magical place to grow up. But she suspected there might be something stiff and formal about the kids’ memories here.
“What was your old house like?” she asked. “Before you came here.”
“Smaller,” Pia said immediately.
“Closer to my friends,” Jax said at the same time.
“Is it hard to make new friends here?” Yasmine asked him.
He shrugged.
She bit her tongue to stop herself from asking follow-up questions. In time, she hoped he would trust her. For now, just showing him that she could be cool and not get too nosey was probably the most important thing.
Pia placed her little hand on the sensor to open the door to the rear grounds.
A breath of warm night air greeted them, sweet with the scent of the garden blooms. They stepped outside and Pia led the way down a winding path that ended in a trellised gateway.
Pale gray mystriosa blossoms wound their way around the trellis. Light broke through the vines, making it seem as if they were about to encounter some kind of spacecraft.
But when they stepped through, Yasmine could see that the light was coming from a massive fountain.
It was tiered like a wedding cake, with crystalline water spilling over from the top and sliding down. On each tier, golden statues of dancers appeared to have been caught mid-revelry, their skirts and hair billowing as if in the breeze kicked up by the dance.
At first, Yasmine thought the dancers were all Terran, but when she moved closer, she realized some had Maltaffian horns, others had Vystian head tentacles. One was even an Ardoovian, her gelatinous form billowing behind her in lieu of a gown. All of the figures were female. At least as far as she could tell.
“Beautiful,” Yasmine breathed.
“It’s The Women,” Jax said quietly.
Yasmine felt a pang in her chest at the idea. So many women, a generation, lost.
Their mother…
She wasn’t sure she was ready to tackle a subject like that.
“This is what they look like on Vallagard, celebrating,” Pia said solemnly. “My mama is one of the warriors. She feels so proud that she saved the system. That she saved us.”
“That’s amazing,” Yasmine told her. “She was very brave.”
Inwardly, she was wondering how it would feel to be a motherless child, told that your parent was in a heavenly place celebrating eternally, even though they would never see you again.
“She is not all alone,” Pia went on. “She is with the other Women. They are having a party.”
“Well, I feel so lucky that I get to be right here with you,” Yasmine told her. “Should we have a party too? An ice cream party?”
“Ice cream party,” Pia yelled.
