The Lily and the Crown Read online

  It had been such an awful prospect at first, having somebody there all the time. But Assistant’s presence was nowhere near as intrusive as Ari would have imagined, if she’d ever imagined such a thing, which she hadn’t. She had feared the invasion of her space, the creeping awareness that someone was always looking over her shoulder, but Assistant seemed to have no interest in doing that. Sometimes she didn’t seem to have much interest in Ari at all.

  Ari was eating more now, though. Neither was Assistant shy about saying when it was time to give up work and get some rest. She didn’t eat or sleep until Ari did, so Ari was trying very hard to be more thoughtful about such things, but it was nice to be reminded. Assistant slept on a small bed in an alcove away from the garden. Ari had her own bed, of course, a bigger one, but more often than not she slept on a cot near her beloved plants. They were her home, her dearest friends. Why shouldn’t she be near them?

  Assistant didn’t get Ari’s love for her plants. Well, nobody did. But she worked without protest, although Ari could tell that she wasn’t really content. Restless, that was the word. Like she was waiting for something. Wanting something.

  Whenever the thought of what Assistant wanted crossed Ari’s mind, it made her shiver, for some strange reason. Not in a bad way, either. Beyond just having company around, a pair of helping hands, there was something kind of exciting about Assistant in a way Ari couldn’t quite pinpoint. Four days after Assistant had arrived, the sight of her black hair and sharp blue eyes every morning was starting to make Ari’s heart beat just a little bit faster.

  Maybe there was more than one kind of danger.

  Mercifully, Assistant never seemed to guess at Ari’s thoughts. Thank goodness for that. No doubt she’d find them ridiculous. But she didn’t seem to resent Ari; in fact, she seemed more bewildered by her than anything else. Sometimes even amused. Ari got the feeling not a lot of things amused Assistant, so she wondered if it might not be a kind of compliment.

  Therefore, on the fourth day, Ari felt marginally confident enough to ask, “Assistant? What was it like? Living with pirates, I mean.”

  Assistant gave her a sharp look. The bruise on her cheek had nearly faded completely. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what are pirates like? What do they do all day? When they’re not…” Ari gestured vaguely with her trowel and threw dirt on her own chin. “You know. Marauding and stuff.” She wiped her chin.

  “Chiefly they’re going between places where they maraud,” Assistant said. “I understand there is also drinking and whoring involved. For some of them.” She dug her own trowel forcefully into the dirt. “Not the ones I lived with, however.”

  “Whor…” Ari gulped and blushed. She wasn’t used to that kind of language, but even more than that, it sounded strange coming from Assistant’s usually refined mou…vocabulary. The base of her spine tingled. Grasping frantically for a different subject, she said, “Did you ever see her?”

  “Her?”

  “You know. Mír.” Ari kept her voice low, out of reflex. It was silly, but for two decades Mír had been used as a story to frighten children. Be good, or the ruthless pirate queen will snatch you away in the dead of night. Ari herself had gotten various versions of the tale when she’d been young.

  “What about her?” Assistant inquired, lifting an eyebrow.

  “Did you ever see her?” Ari repeated. “They say nobody has. No free person. She’s never on the holos. Nobody even has a voice recording.”

  “Yes,” Assistant said. “From what I understand, she takes great care that this should be the case.”

  “Well, some people even say she’s not real. Because nobody’s seen her, you see. They say she’s just a story to frighten children and somebody else is in charge of the pirates. Or several somebodies. Pirates-by-committee,” she added, inspired.

  “Oh, she’s real enough,” Assistant said, turning back to the dirt.

  “So, you have seen her?” Ari gasped. What would she do with this information if Assistant had? Would she be obliged to tell her father about it?

  “No,” Assistant said, rendering the possibility moot.

  “Oh.” Ari deflated. “Then how do you know she’s real?”

  “I know. You pick things up out there.”

  “Is she as bad as people say?” That didn’t even seem possible. How could one person be as vicious as all those stories painted her? And even though she was a grown woman now, memories of those stories from her childhood suddenly sent a chill through her. “They say she never lets anyone go.”

  “True enough.” Assistant looked Ari dead in the eye. “She wouldn’t spare your pretty face, I’ll tell you that.”

  “Oh,” Ari squeaked.

  Assistant stabbed her trowel into the ground as she dug. “So you should be very, very glad that you are in such a sheltered”—stab—“protected”—stab—“well-guarded place.”

  “Hey, be careful.” Ari reached out to still her hand. “You’ll damage the bulbs.” Then she realized that Assistant had gone stiff beneath her touch and pulled her hand away.

  They worked in silence for a few moments. Then: “You think I’m pretty?” Ari said timidly.

  “Oh, for God’s sake.”

  “Sorry.” Ari looked into the nearest packet of seeds, her face burning. “I, um, is it time for lunch?”

  “Past time.” Assistant stood and stomped toward the intercom, trailing sods as she went.

  ~ ~ ~

  Assistant seemed rather miffed after that. Her replies to Ari’s instructions were clipped and short. But she did as good a job as she always did, and they had all the bulbs planted.

  “I think they look good,” Ari said happily and glanced over at Assistant, who was looking right back at her instead of the plants. “Don’t you? I, I think we did a good job.”

  Assistant only looked back at her stonily.

  “Look, I’m sorry,” Ari said. “About asking you yesterday. About the pirates. I know you probably don’t want to remember it.” She glanced away. Obviously, she still had a lot of work to do when it came to making a stranger feel welcome.

  “Why do you never leave your quarters?”

  Ari looked up at her, startled. “Huh?” she said. “I mean, I do, sometimes.”

  “I’ve been here nearly a week. Not once have you left these rooms.”

  Ari blinked. “Well, I get busy,” she said. Hadn’t Assistant noticed? “I’ve always got something going on in here. Oh.” Her eyes widened. “You’ve been going stir-crazy, haven’t you?”

  Assistant raised a sardonic eyebrow. “Just a bit.”

  “Oh!” Yes, Ari needed serious improvement here. “I didn’t realize. Come on, let’s get out of here. Let’s go for a walk. I know! The Observatory.” She brushed down her dirty apron. Assistant had been making her put on aprons instead of crawling around the garden in her clothes. “We’ve got some great telescopes. I like astronomy, you know, when I’m not working with the plants.”

  “Head in the stars, hmm?” Assistant asked, with a gleam of actual amusement in her eyes.

  Ari smiled. “I guess so. Do you like stars?”

  “Love them,” Assistant said, and for once she sounded sincere. “Especially star charts.”

  “Oh.” Ari blinked. “Really?”

  “Really,” Assistant said firmly. “Are there any in the Observatory?”

  “Of course!” Ari was delighted to stumble on something Assistant enjoyed. She’d started to wonder if that would ever happen. “Dozens of them. I’ll show you.”

  “How kind of you,” Assistant said.

  Ari looked away again so Assistant wouldn’t see her blush. “I should have thought of it before,” she murmured. “That you’d want to get out, I mean. Let me just change my clothes.”

  She brushed down her apron again and glanced back over at Assistant, who was watching her with one side of her mouth quirked up. It was as close as Ari had ever seen her come to a smile. Ari’s heart stuttered, n
early stopped, and she no longer knew what to do with her hands.

  “I’ll be right back,” she mumbled, and for some reason, now she was really worried about what she should wear.

  ~ ~ ~

  She went with red. A dark, rich red that was more like ruby. Growing up, she’d been told that it flattered her pale skin tone and the long chestnut hair she usually kept pulled back in a ponytail. Though why wearing a “flattering” color should matter when she was just walking to the Observatory with Assistant, she had no idea. But it did matter, so she put on her red dress with its long flowing skirt, brushed her hair, made sure her fingernails were free of dirt, and even added a bracelet.

  Her surge of pleasure when Assistant laid eyes on her was almost embarrassing. Assistant’s eyes widened for just a moment, and—had her breath caught? That couldn’t be right.

  All Assistant said was, “That’s…quite a difference. And to think I believed I’d show you up in all this magnificence.” She touched the skirt of her plain slave’s tunic.

  “You probably will,” Ari heard herself say, like an idiot. It was true, though. Assistant didn’t need nice clothes to look like a queen.

  Wouldn’t she look amazing in them, though? In a red dress like Ari’s? No—a blue one. Blue would complement her black hair and bring out her eyes. She shouldn’t wear sleeves, though, not with those muscled arms. A necklace could grace her long, elegant neck.

  They’d been staring at each other without saying a word for several seconds. Ari didn’t figure this out until Assistant suddenly cleared her throat and looked at the door. “Shall we, mistress?”

  “Don’t call me that,” Ari whispered, “please.”

  “As you wish.” Without looking back, Assistant marched to the door and keyed it open.

  It took a little longer for Ari to find her own footing, even after Assistant’s incredible eyes were no longer trained on her. Was the ground buckling? No, that wasn’t possible. Ari’s knees were shaking. Thank goodness for her long skirt.

  Dangerous, the little voice said in the back of Ari’s head, and she shushed it at once.

  ~ ~ ~

  On the rare occasions when Ari left her rooms, it was always a little shocking to see how expansive the space station was, even after she’d been here for three years.

  In fact, all things considered, the station’s size was unexpected. On her second day here, Assistant had referred to the Nahtal Sector as “a grubby little imperial outpost.” True, it was on the outskirts of the Empire, and Ari’s father was of a high enough rank that it seemed strange for him to be stationed somewhere so remote. But he had requested the position himself, claiming he could be “of more use” all the way out here instead of at a more prestigious station, guarding a more prestigious planet that was much closer to Homeworld and the seat of power.

  Before his arrival, he’d commissioned extensive additions and modifications to Nahtal Station, insisting on more docking room to accommodate space-faring ships instead of the usual shuttles that went to and from the planet below. There were also more barracks for an increased number of troops, and he’d upgraded all the weapons systems. Ari didn’t know much about the specifics—he’d never volunteered the information, and it wasn’t exactly her area of expertise—but based on what little gossip she’d overheard, the station had undergone quite a change before he’d shown up to take command of it officially. By then, everyone had already known he was a man not to be crossed. Ari had been so proud of him.

  It might be wishful thinking on Ari’s part, but Assistant seemed a little impressed, too, as they headed down the corridors together, taking elevators up multiple levels to the station’s top floor, where the Observatory provided a magnificent view. One side looked over the planet below, orange with the rich minerals mined from it, and the other looked out into the endless expanse of stars. These days, you saw a lot more ships coming and going, too, blinking out of hyperspace as they headed for the station’s docks.

  During their journey, Ari and Assistant passed by many of the station’s inhabitants: mostly workers, troops, and slaves, but some families, too, spouses and children of imperial personnel. Ari’s father wasn’t thrilled about having them here. He said the outpost was no place for “a village in space.” He’d even been reluctant to let Ari come with him at first. However, very few stations could justify having no civilian quarters, and Nahtal was one of them.

  So, Ari tried to smile and make eye contact with civilians when their paths crossed. Like it or not, she was Lady Ariana, even if she’d never felt like a noblewoman in her life. She was the only daughter of the stationmaster and ought to do her father proud. At least the civilians didn’t have to salute her like military personnel did. They usually bobbed their heads respectfully if they recognized her, though.

  The deference didn’t seem to bother Assistant. She looked at everyone with a cool eye, whether they were her fellow slaves or ranking officers. Once, when an ensign saluted Ari, Ari could have sworn Assistant nodded as if in approval. Could pirates really have the same kind of discipline as imperial soldiers?

  Ari timidly broached the question when they reached the top floor. She hadn’t dared to speak until now, because something hot had been clogging up her throat, even hotter than the ball of warmth in her lower belly that had begun from the moment Assistant had seen her in the red dress.

  Assistant replied, “Mír’s fleet is run with as much structure and discipline as any imperial force. More, from what I’ve seen.”

  Though Assistant’s voice was cool, Ari could have sworn she detected a trace of pride in it. How strange, to be proud of people who had captured and enslaved you. There was something even stranger about that statement, too. “Have you seen a lot of imperial forces? I guess you must have, if you can make the comparison.”

  Assistant blinked, as if the question surprised her. She sounded a little evasive when she replied, “Here and there.” When Ari opened her mouth to follow up, her shoulders stiffened. The clearest way possible to say, Don’t push it.

  Ari wouldn’t push it, then. She tried to take a deep breath without it being noticeable. As she did, in the confines of the lift, she caught a whiff of Assistant’s scent: earth from the garden, a trace of sweat, and something else Ari couldn’t identify. Her hair, maybe? Hair always seemed to have its own smell, different from person to person. What did Assistant’s hair smell like?

  Ari looked away before Assistant could catch her staring.

  They arrived in the Observatory. Thankfully, it wasn’t very crowded, with just a few people sitting on the couches in the middle of the lounge, or studying at the carrels that lined one side of the room. Nothing impeded Ari’s view of the stars, which always took her breath away. It was so different from her garden, where every few feet the view was blocked by a tree or bush. Space stretched out into an infinity of loneliness without even plants to keep you company. “Living among the stars” sounded poetic, but it never came close to capturing the immensity of floating in orbit.

  Assistant didn’t seem to notice that any more than she’d noticed Ari staring at her. The look she turned on the stars seemed more analytical than awed. Her gaze skimmed across both windows as her brow furrowed. Then she walked to the window that looked over the planet below, a tiny sphere that hadn’t even merited a proper name—its imperial designation was XR-43. Everyone on the station called it “Exer.”

  Exer provided invaluable ore to the Empire, ore that could be used in fuel and construction, but no question that it wasn’t the prettiest planet. No blue oceans or great landmasses crossed it like they did Homeworld. It had no sparkling rings of asteroids, no glowing moons.

  When Ari joined Assistant—standing so close that their shoulders were just a few inches apart—Assistant said, “I remember when the mineral deposits on this planet were discovered.”

  Ari blinked. “Really?” That had happened before she was born. How long ago was it, exactly? “That must have been…”

  “Fo
rty years ago, or thereabouts. Back when your Empire knew how to move fast. They had an operating mine out here within ten years.” Assistant glanced at Ari, and if she was surprised at how close together they were standing, she didn’t protest. “I was a child then.”

  It would be rude to do the math with Assistant standing right in front of her, so Ari simply tacked on “less than fifty years old” to the tiny list of things she knew about her gardening partner. “Oh.”

  “It’s an invaluable resource.” Assistant looked down at Exer again, and for a second, something like hunger flashed across her face. How long ago had lunch been? They’d have to order dinner as soon as they returned to Ari’s quarters. Or maybe they could even eat in the mess hall, if Assistant wanted to keep going with their…their night on the town, or whatever this was.

  Ari fidgeted. “I’m sure it is.”

  Suddenly, Assistant shook her head and blinked, as if coming out of a reverie. She gave Ari a quick look. Was that caution in her gaze? But why?

  “So,” she said, “the star charts?”

  “Oh!” Ari twitched, yanked from a reverie of her own, a brief fantasy of staring into Assistant’s blue eyes for a long, long time and not having to be embarrassed about it. “Right. They’re by this wall over here. Just tell me which ones you want me to pull for you.”

  Assistant definitely liked the star charts. Sitting next to her on one of the couches, Ari watched how she flipped through them, missing no detail. She realized for the first time just how smart Assistant really was. Oh, she’d never thought she was dumb: she was much too well-spoken. Sharp-tongued, even. But this woman bent over the star charts obviously had a keen and fine mind.

  “We can come back here again,” Ari offered. “As often as you like.”

  Assistant gave her a long, considering look. “Thank you,” she said neutrally. Then she added, “You are very generous in how you treat a slave.”

  Ari squirmed. Why did Assistant keep reminding her of that? It wasn’t like Ari wanted things to be this way. “Really,” she said, “don’t say things like that.”