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“Konstan, I’m not going!” Samantha said for the umpteenth time, getting up and slapping her folder on the desk. She turned to face him.
They were in her sitting room, trying to get in a little relaxation after the hectic morning. Konstan, who had been lounging on the couch and inspecting the Almedran constellation map Samantha had put up on the ceiling, sat up.
“Look, sisia, why can’t you be yourself as I used to know you? You used to be a normal girl who could wear a pretty dress and be happy about it. You could use the time off!” he urged her.
“You sound like everyone else,” Samantha replied, frustrated. “I’ve had plenty of time off since Aiyra arrived.”
“It still doesn’t add up to the amount of free time I’ve had over two years,” Konstan pointed out. “And you’ve been under a lot of stress. And, if I heard you correctly, you were going to discuss your knowledge of the Marauders in more depth with the Captain so that you could both figure out a way to help Aiyra with her trauma.”
Samantha stopped short and slapped her forehead.
“How could I forget?” she moaned. “Oh, alright, alright, I’ll go!”
“Good!” Konstan said with satisfaction, jumping up from the couch. “I’ll take care of anything left on your schedule, sis. You start getting ready. The party starts around five-thirty,” he reminded her. He ducked out.
Passing the technicians’ work room, he saw that Marc was just leaving after making sure that every file had successfully made it back into the data banks. He ran after him.
“Captain!” he called.
Marc stopped and looked back.
“Hey there! I bet you’ve been busy. What are you up to?”
“Uh, well – I’m not working right now. See, I want Samantha to attend the celebration tonight. She’s worried about attending. . . I think she told you why. I talked her into it, though, and I was wondering if you’d mind keeping an eye on her, since I’ll be taking over her schedule.”
Marc tried not to laugh at the youth’s innocent expression.
“Don’t worry, Konstan,” he assured him with a straight face. “I’ll look after her if she needs anything. However, when your shift is over, I think you ought to come down for a bit. Aiyra would be happy.”
Konstan hesitated, seeing the teasing look in the captain’s eyes.
“I suppose she would! She didn’t get much of a birthday. I’ll try, sir.”
Amused, Marc watched the suddenly-not-so-confident engineer rush off.
“Highly suspicious,” he laughed to himself, and went on his way.
Samantha stepped in front of her mirror and surveyed herself, gently tugging on the clip earrings Konstan had given her for her birthday a few years before. It was almost five o’clock now, and the sun was preparing to sink into the sea. Konstan, who had only a few tasks left, was waiting to see his friend off.
“Is it alright?” Samantha asked anxiously.
Her hair was swept up in soft waves, crowned with loops of pearls and silver flowers. The gown of icy lilac silk shantung was in a traditional Almedran style. The bodice sparkled with loops of seed beads framing diamond-shaped crystals, and the neckline, dotted with gems, faded into a beaded choker. Puffed sleeves were hung with many tiers of beads, looped over the cascading Grecian sleeves, and the skirt fell in sweeping folds which just brushed the ground. A matching over dress was pinned to the back at the shoulders and wrapped around in front, forming a moderate train trimmed in frothy lace.
Konstan took one look at her and had to laugh.
“Are you kidding? You look like a princess. Come on now, I still have some work to do and the captain wants me down at the party later. Let’s get you going.”
Samantha hesitated. “Can’t I wait until you’re ready?”
The answer to this was a shove out the door.
Laughter mingled with the bouncing tune of flutes, violins, and exotic instruments as Marc wended his way through the crowded pavilion, Aiyra in tow. The sun was setting, painting the sky apricot, peach, and coral, and creating a sparkling path on the bay.
Colorful lights bejeweled the trees, reflecting in the dancing fountains as men and women swirled around the gardens to the tune of an unfamiliar waltz. Eventually Marc made it to the steps at the far end of the pavilion, where the governor’s table was set under a bright canopy.
“Ah, Captain Hesslin!” the governor boomed over the music. “Good to see you!” He came down the steps and shook Marc’s hand.
“Good evening, Governor Ventiin,” Marc returned.
“And here’s little Aiyra,” Ventiin added, turning to the girl and gently taking her hand. “I heard yesterday was your birthday! Consider this your very own celebration as well.”
Aiyra thanked him politely. The governor turned back to Marc.
“Captain, I’ve been told that you played a pivotal role in the Battle of Maltara,” he began.
Here we go again, Marc groaned inwardly. Aiyra started laughing for no reason and hastily turned to watch the dancers. Her eyes widened as she saw a way of saving her father from the conversation.
“A’da!” she said excitedly. Marc glanced over. Others were turning their heads to look at the young woman in glittering array who stood uncertainly at the top of the wide garden stairs. Marc did a double-take, for this was the only real-life Cinderella he had ever seen.
“Samantha!” He brightened, taking his opportunity to escape. “Excuse me, Governor,” he apologized with a slight bow.
Descending into the pavilion, he wove his way through the crowd again. He found Samantha waiting hesitantly and surveying the whirling dancers, evidently searching for a familiar face. Her eyes lit up with relief when she saw Marc standing there, and gratefully took the arm he offered her.
“You look nice,” Marc said respectfully, steering her through the crowd.
“Thank you,” Samantha murmured.
“Is Konstan with you?”
“No, he’s still working. I was going to wait for him, but-” Samantha half-shrugged, shaking a loose curl out of her eyes. “He’s pushy, sometimes.”
“I see,” Marc laughed as they arrived at the governor’s table. Ventiin arose from his seat when he saw Samantha.
“And who is this young lady?” he asked Marc reproachfully. “Didn’t you invite her to the ceremony yesterday, captain?” He shook his head with laughing disapproval and smiled at Samantha.
“Sir, this is Ms. Anselle, one of the Lumenara’s top engineers,” Marc replied, trying valiantly to save the situation before Samantha decided to run out on him. “Her brother is still on duty, so she’s with me for a while.”
Samantha recalled how to curtsy and murmured a greeting, pleased that Marc had made no worse introduction.
“An engineer! I would have thought you were a princess,” Ventiin teased her gently. Samantha laughed a little.
“Peasants are as the nobility among my people,” she admitted. “We all have a soul, a body, a family, a cross, and a life; and royal clothing doesn’t take much but the crystals found in the earth and the silk of the spider.”
“A wise way of doing things,” Ventiin observed. “You’re a sweet girl, Ms. Anselle. Now, I’ll let you two run along to dance. Go on!” he gave the pair a push as they protested, and they soon found themselves trapped on the dance floor.
Marc looked helplessly at Samantha. He could tell that Ventiin was not about to let them get away without at least one dance. Possibly because he had heard the rumor of the captain and his daughter and the mysterious mother no one had known of, and suspected a tragedy; or perhaps it was because Samantha was so lovely, Aiyra so sweet, and Marc so broken.
Samantha fixed her eyes on the dancers, feigning that she didn’t understand their predicament.
Run, was what her brain was saying, but don’t hurt Marc again was just loud enough to freeze her in indecision.
The merry piping of the flutes became a sweet-toned, gentle waltz and Samantha found herself forgetting the stress that weighed on her shoulders. Her face cleared and she realized that Marc was feeling just as awkward as she was. She turned and looked at him.
“Do you think we should?” she asked, holding out her hands. “The Governor is waiting, and I have a feeling he won’t let us alone.”
Marc took her hands and then stopped, looking into her face.
“I’m afraid to,” he said, almost ashamed. “You’re so different now, that I’m beginning to think I don’t really know who you are, Samantha. Is this you, or are you really just the professional young woman who’s just as afraid of her past as I am of mine?”
Samantha hesitated as they instinctively began to waltz to the melody being played.
“People change over the years,” she said. “Konstan told me to be more like myself. . . but I’m afraid I’m being more like my old self than my real self.”
“Yes, time changes people,” Marc granted. “But this must be part of you, Samantha. Just as your professional side is a part of you. Perhaps you don’t know the real you, either. Everyone quotes the old saying, ‘be true to yourself,’ but how can you be if you don’t know yourself?”
Samantha shook her head.
“I don’t know anything anymore,” she confessed. “I don’t know who I am, Marc. Am I a girl slated to wed a Marauder king? One who is tied down by the world? Am I just an engineer? Or am I a normal girl who can find a normal way through life?”’
“Probably the latter,” Marc murmured thoughtfully. He looked down at her hands, so small in his. “Maybe, Samantha, don’t be afraid to be a woman. You are afraid to love and to be loved, so you’ve trained yourself to hide in your profession and your work. It is a beautiful part of you, Samantha, but not half as beautiful as your whole self.” He looked earnestly into her eyes.
“If you can trust me, as you said you could, believe me when I say that I won’t let Medrhos find you. Besides, how could he find you? Among thousands of years and billions of people and trillions of stars and planets, you are impossible for him to reach. And you could not have found a safer place to be than the Lumenara; you know from my past how much they fear me.”
Samantha smiled then and moved her hand to his shoulder.
“Riddle me this,” she said. “Why do you make perfect sense to me when I don’t to myself?”
Marc just laughed and swung her around as the music cascaded to an end, and a familiar voice hailed them.
They turned and found Konstan and Aiyra perched on the edge of the fountain.
“About time you showed up,” Samantha complained, but Aiyra hugged her, saving Konstan from a gentle smack on the shoulder.
“Since I happen to know you set us up, Konstan, take care of Aiyra and please make sure she eats,” Marc said, ruffling the boy’s hair, before stooping and taking Aiyra’s head in his hands. “Please try to eat well, princess. . . I’ll check on you after I’ve finished speaking with Ventiin.”
He put an inquiry to Samantha if she would accompany him; she did, and Konstan watched them go for a minute before swinging his legs over the fountain’s rampart and motioned for Aiyra to follow him to the banquet, avoiding the monkeys that kept running across the path and nearly tripping them up.
They had found out just why there were monkeys; according to a poster, the monkeys from earlier had been released, supposedly for a “coordinated dance number” which had immediately disintegrated into “coordinately swiping food and blowing out candles at random.”
“Coordinated dance number? You don’t see that in space,” Konstan said with raised eyebrow, “and I can see why.”
Shaking his head, he caught Aiyra for the third time as she nearly took a tumble thanks to the monkeys, and drew her safely into the maze of the banquet.
On one table half hidden by flowers, balloons, and rampaging monkeys, was a spread of not-so exotic foods.
“Mac and cheese?” Konstan’s eyes lit up. “Okay, that’s definitely not Maedran fare. Huh. Somebody had to have brought that from the Lumenara. I know we’ve infected a whole bunch of planets with pizza and stuff already. Who cares though, don’t think you’ve had any yet; it’s great Earth food, I promise.”
He waved a monkey away before it could pry open the glass cover and dig its paws into the cheese.
“These monkeys are out of control! Go eat the fruit in the trees, will you, and leave the cheese for me.”
Aiyra trailed after him, subdued as though she had lost her train of thought. Konstan soon began to feel the silence and glanced over his shoulder to see his friend watching him.
“Is something wrong?” he inquired.
Aiyra hesitated, began to shake her head, but stopped. The wind ruffled her curls and Konstan noticed the dancing lights and stars reflected in those eyes, so mirrored in the variegated surroundings of the night that they could not choose only a single color to reflect.
“I just like being with you,” Aiyra said quietly. “I do not want you to go away.”
“I like being with you too, and I’m not going away; your father asked me to keep you company - to cheer you up,” and his brow furrowed, hoping he hadn’t restarted the memories of earlier.
When the girl looked down and did not reply, he had an inkling that this, or something else, was on her mind.
“Aiyra, if you need to talk, I’m always here to listen,” Konstan reminded her, setting aside his plate and hers.
“I am afraid. . .”
“Of what? Memories?”
“No, that something will happen to you.” Aiyra raised her head. “I used to know you, Konstan, though I did not know for sure until last night. I met you before my mother died. Here, where we are standing now. And you were with me for several years, before we were separated. You were much older than me - I thought - you were long-lived, or some similar gift.” She studied his puzzled expression. “Konstan, if anything happens to you -”
“Nothing will happen to me that isn’t for the best, Aiyra. Don’t worry so! Even if something did happen to me, you’ll still have those who are dearest to you: your father and Samantha.”
“But - not you?”
“Well, I - didn’t wish to assume I was among them.”
Aiyra held out her hand to him. The youth took it and Aiyra drew him back into the dancing crowd. Lifting his hand, she shyly placed her hand against it.
“Teach me?”
Konstan’s eyes softened as he looked down at her sweet face.
“I’ll teach you, and I’ll always be here for you, little princess. Don’t be frightened anymore, not for yourself or for me. Everything is going to be alright now that you’re here with us, safe and sound. I’ll never let you have to go back to the Marauders, even if that takes me to the time you first knew me.”
Aiyra looked up at him, lips trembling, but she smiled as though he made her feel safe, and hugged him because the music had already stopped. Konstan gave her a squeeze and then with smiling eyes, pulled her along as another dance began.
They whirled in circles around the dancing fountain, finding again that Aiyra’s perfect grace melded with his skill until they forgot all else. Swirling gowns shimmered in the light and footsteps fell rhythmically to the music. All was lovely until Aiyra stumbled to a stop with a gasp, pressing her hands to her head.
“Aiyra! What is it?”
“Just a headache - can we leave the crowd?” she panted with a quick smile. Konstan put his arm around her and guided her to a quiet garden alcove with a view of the party below; and Aiyra leaned her head on his shoulder as the stars began to dance overhead.
“Just never get hurt, Konstan,” she whispered. “Please, never.”
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(I forgot to mention that Samantha's dress sounds beautiful!)