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She smiled at the sight of him, immediately feeling a lift in her spirits. She didn’t know how she’d have survived these past weeks if it had not been for his support.
He’d been such a fantastic help, flipping the duty of care in their relationship from her hands to his. Because since his miraculous grotto experience and rapid recovery, she hadn’t had a moment to breathe. The minute Kainan left the hospital, both Sheba and herself had been thrust into preparing the official state funeral service for her father.
Kainan had offered to stay on Dunia, by her side, as she, her sister and Rina worked with the Council and relevant authorities to oversee the events.
She’d had to alternate between being a grieving daughter and the planet’s leading diplomat for the ensuing weeks, which had drained her immensely.
Sheba and herself were wrecked, caught up with planning for both the service and funeral, managing the expectations of hundreds of people who all wanted to pay respect to the former Prime in their own unique and sometimes ridiculous way.
Kainan and Ki’Remi had stepped in, nourishing both sisters with food, rest, listening ears and for Selene, tender kisses and sensible advice from her man.
The Sable Rider’s medic regularly checked Kainan and reported his healing progress. When he did, Selene caught moments of intensity between Sheba and the silent Edenite clinician, but if anything had happened or was happening between them, Sheba was not sharing. And Selene wasn’t one to pry - for now. She had so many other things to think about.
There was the case of preparing for her inauguration in two months. In-between re-establishing the shaken confidence of her people and guiding the planet as it reflected on recent events. She was determined not to let any Dunian citizen slip into disillusion, cynicism or despair. Especially when the celebration of the patriotic frenzy died off. To do so, she needed to lead the charge in evolving any long-held assumptions and presumptions that had led to the coup in the first place.
Which began by renewing their planet’s internal and external defence capabilities. She was committed to establishing Dunia’s security and increasing its bargaining and strategic power in the System. To do that, she sorely needed a Defence Head to take full responsibility.
She’d cautiously approached Kainan and asked his thoughts with the view of persuading him to step into the role and work with General McKenzie to design a credible deterrence strategy.
He’d mulled over it, and they’d negotiated a temporary agreement. One where he would travel between Eden II and Dunia as required. He’d still head The Sable Group, and if the arrangement worked for everyone, he was willing to look at balancing both roles long-term.
He’d also given her invaluable insights on how to go about rebuilding Dunia’s cities battered by the recent violence.
Speaking of violence, her thoughts strayed to Massimo Makori and his shattered legacy.
The One Dunia Alliance had been disbanded, its leaders caught and sentenced to long prison terms. Massimo’s wife and fellow traitors were now secured in Gineliv III’s maximum holding facility.
His adult children had scattered, having fled Dunia for parts unknown. Except, of course, Mirage, now back with the rest of the Riders on Eden II, had tracked them down and found them hiding out on the pleasure planet of Zanyria. Selene chose to hold off from pursuing them further. The shame they’d experienced was punishment enough, for now, she hoped.
The government sold Massimo’s lands, properties and holdings to compensate his victims. At Selene’s request and after a high court Secure Council endorsed order, the Makori extended dynasty, friends, and families had lost all of their shares in the mining industry, especially the xentium fields.
Xentium production, however, was back in full swing. One of Selene’s dearest friends, Harlow, was on the cusp of a breakthrough technology that would harness the most potential from Dunia’s most precious resource. Selene hoped the commercial profits from the new technology could fund Dunia’s rebuilding efforts. At the same time, ensuring its future by investing in its people, creating social safety net programs, and providing security for each Dunian on and off the planet.
The Technocracy, for whom xentium had been such a boon, had been decimated. Mostly. The Sable Riders’ nano-virus payload had reportedly even reached their exploration and mining ships on the edges of the galaxy, causing them to fail. Their armadas were wiped out, and their dominance of the System diminished.
However, a few days ago, a curious message had been intercepted from a far-flung corner of the Omega-verse. It stated how The Technocracy would rise once more. It also vowed that they’d return to destroy Eden II, Dunia and the entire Pegasi system in vengeance once they did.
Selene sighed.
‘That’s the sound of a woman with the weight of a planet on her shoulders,’ she heard a deep voice say. One that would always send shivers down her spine.
She swivelled her father’s chair forward and smiled at the sight of her man.
He stood leaning a muscled shoulder against the office door jamb.
‘Hi,’ she said, taking all of his magnificence in.
Barefoot. Chest bare, from his broad, glyphed shoulders to his thick arms and the whirl of hair below his belly button. His long, new locks fell to his shoulders, giving her the urge to run her fingers through its silken lengths.
He wore loose, soft pants that hung low on his narrow hips. She squeezed her fists tight, longing to tear them off him. Instead, all she could do at this moment was savour his beauty.
‘Hey,’ he drawled. ‘You OK?’
‘Better now that I’ve seen you.’
‘How much more do you want to see?’ he said hoarse and low, his voice cascading over her body with heat.
‘Everything. I’ve missed you so much,’ she breathed.
