Defiance (Star Streaker Book 3) Read online

Devri’s mother Jane sat across from her, avoiding her daughter’s gaze. Even at a simple family dinner, she always dressed in an elaborate gown and robes. Tonight was no exception. At a society party, Jane would have added crusted jewels to her face and an elaborate headdress to complete her look.

  A dull ache had started behind Devri’s eyes and was spreading into her forehead. The more her father talked, the farther the pain extended until it felt like he was driving a nail into her skull.

  But the pain in her head was nothing compared to the pain in her heart. If only she could find a way of persuading Davos to back down. Tricking him was out of the question; he was sharp and cunning, used to political deception. She needed to appeal to his heart—if it hadn’t been eaten away by the poison he drank every day.

  So that approach wouldn’t work. She’d better appeal to his sense of pride instead.

  Jane looked at Devri with alarm. She shot a glance at Davos, and Devri tuned back in to what he was saying.

  “Need to arrange for Harrison to meet Devri sooner, rather than later. Don’t want him tempted to go back on his word. The McConnells will stab you in the back as soon as eat dinner with you.”

  Devri took a deep, steadying breath and looked her father in the eye. “Is there nothing I can do to change your mind, Father?”

  Davos scoffed. “This again? Marrying Harrison will be a great honor. What do you have against him?”

  “He’s shorter than I am. He barely reaches my shoulder.”

  Jane let out a snort of laughter and then quickly grabbed her wine to cover it up.

  “What are you, ten?” Davos asked, glaring at Devri for the first time in an hour.

  Devri stiffened in her seat. “I am merely pointing out we are not a good match. He is short. I am tall. He is a drunk. I am graceful. He is a McConnell. I am a Davos.”

  The last one hit home. Davos leaned back and looked at Devri with interest, as if he were looking at his daughter, not a woman to barter with.

  “I agree with you that the McConnells are inferior to us in terms of breeding. But my daughter, they have wealth and power and status that will add to ours. And in the end, what more could you want in a match?”

  “Love.”

  She couldn’t help it—tears fell. Big splashes trailed down her cheeks and fell onto her lap, leaving wet blotches on her beautiful dress. Her father was ruining her life. All she wanted to do was run and hide.

  “Love is a romantic notion, Devri,” Davos said, going back to his lantess. “It has no place among the nobility.”

  Devri stole a glance at Jane, who had gone white. The next second, her mother’s face turned beet red, her eyes shining at her husband like green daggers.

  Davos ignored her.

  Devri recognized the oncoming storm and slid out from her place at the table. She wasn’t allowed to raise her voice at Davos, but Jane was. Devri had many memories of fights well into the night, mostly about the pressure the Xanthes nobility always put on Davos.

  She silently thanked her mother, but the gratitude was shallow. Jane was a hands-off kind of mother figure. She’d never defended Devri to Davos before, and she wouldn’t now. No, her tirade would be about Davos’ comment toward her, and neither would mention Devri.

  She was alone.

  Chapter 2

  Two days later, Devri stood in a darkened gallery, peeking through a cracked open door to a meeting room. Soft flagstones beneath her bare feet chilled her legs. Devri’s dress, again one of fine fabric, was so long it brushed the tops of her feet. The overly sweet, tender smell of blooms from the garden behind drifted through the gallery. Imported plants didn’t do well under Xanthes’ sun and gave off little of their own scent, so the house pumped an additional fake one through the ventilation system.

  The fight between her parents had reached epic proportions. Shouting had drifted down the halls of the family quarters until after dawn. After that, complete silence. Jane disappeared. Davos stormed around. As expected, no one mentioned Devri.

  She’d approached her father two more times, and on both occasions, he brushed her off. Devri hadn’t cried again. She would not be weak. She would not be emotional. Davos wouldn’t respect it.

  The nausea was always with her now. She hadn’t eaten since the whole ordeal started. Despite numerous threats from Davos to put her into a stasis chamber until the wedding if she tried to starve herself, Devri couldn’t bear the thought of food.

  And sleeping was out of the question. She tossed and turned, worrying about everything with the power to change nothing. Tired, sick, and hurt, Devri had wracked her brain to find a solution to her problem. But she had nothing.

  Except to run away. Even that was a hollow wish, a fantasy. She had no means of escaping. Davos would find her and lock her up until her wedding day.

  She would have to marry Harrison McConnell—the little, simpering, wimpy man she’d grown up despising. All he could do was squander money. He was great at it, in fact. And he subscribed to the Founders’ ideas of racial purity and class system. Until two days ago, Devri had thought she would escape all of it, including marrying someone like him.

  Through the sliver of light coming through the door, Devri watched various nobility gather and sit at Davos’ table. They had dressed in traditional garb appropriate for Xanthes’ upper class—fine robes, elegant jewels, and elaborate metal headdresses.

  The meeting had been planned long ago, but Devri knew Davos was bursting to tell them of his new alliance. A new hot flash of anger tingled through her body. Anger at being used and mistreated. At being a pawn. At being sold off by her own father.

  The anger intertwined with the tight knot of anxiety in her stomach, sending her senses into a spin of emotions she could only vaguely untangle. Betrayed—that’s what she felt. Betrayed by her own father. Weren’t fathers supposed to protect their children?

  The meeting was called to order, and Davos stood to greet his guests. His voice droned on, self-assured and important. Only bits and pieces of his speech drifted through the crack in the door. When finished, he raised his glass in a toast. The others followed suit. Davos drank his special elixir, but the other nobles drank wine.

  Tally stood in his customary place behind his master’s chair, moving it forward as Davos sat down again. Devri longed to talk to Tally, the one person on Xanthes who always listened. But her father was keeping him busy, and she hadn’t been able to catch him.

  Devri was alone. The thought hammered into her head. She was alone, and she would have to deal with this situation alone. In another few days, she’d meet with Harrison. She doubted he’d be of any help, either.

  The sound of raised voices drew her attention back to the room. Davos was standing again, a frown on his face. Another Founder, the woman with the largest, most ornate headdress, was also standing and speaking in high, clipped tones. She had a nasty sneer on her face.

  “You have promised us these abilities over and over, Davos. When will you act? Your daughter should have married at eighteen—two years ago—and yet you defied us and sent her off to the Academy. You’re soft, Davos, and I demand you bring forth the money you’ve promised us, or we’ll take this to a higher authority.”

  Davos sneered. “You forget your place, Lysa. We are doing better now than we ever have. If you feel wronged, please, by all means, take me before the Founders’ Council. Take it to Triton. You’ll also notice I have been granted control of Unity’s forces on Xanthes, as a direct result of our efforts to increase production.”

  For one moment, Devri held her breath. Her father hadn’t mentioned her marriage. Had he changed his mind?

  Another nobleman across the table from Lysa stood too. Devri didn’t recognize him at all. His face was pinched, his lips thin and sniveling. He turned them up in a smile so revolting Devri looked away.

  “Lord Davos, forgive me, but as you know—”

  “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure,” Lysa interrupted.

  The man bowed
. “Francivi Aron, your Ladyship.”

  He turned back to Davos. “Lord Davos, we well know your control over the Unity forces in this area. I speak for many when I say they trouble us. How can we hope to bring you anything of consequence when you already have so much?”

  Davos’ chest swelled in anger.

  “You will be of consequence when I say you will!” He glared at the others seated around the room. “Anybody else?” he snarled.

  No one dared speak.

  Devri couldn’t imagine what they were talking about. The nobles had been pressuring Davos to marry her off. Why? She fumed on the spot. Is that why her father had ordered her marriage? To gain their approval?

  But it made little sense. Davos was more important than any other person at the table, which meant he needed them for something. It sounded like they were working hand in hand, but Devri didn’t know on what.

  And she didn’t care. A hardened rock of resolve moved into her chest, replacing the fear. She wasn’t sacrificing herself for their deviant schemes. Let them find another way to consolidate power.

  The pause remained so pregnant, lesser men would have shifted in their chairs. But the group remained still as statues, frozen in thought like they were in some giant tableau.

  Then the far door opened, and everyone’s eyes turned to it.

  Jane walked in. Her soft purple gown draped elegantly over her shoulders, jewels dripped from her neck, arms, ears, and face, and she wore a light, diamond-studded ornamental headpiece. The perfect picture of Xanthes nobility. Even Lysa paled in comparison. Devri admired her mother’s poise. Walking into such a room took courage and grace—a feat only Jane could pull off.

  Even Davos looked stunned, like he hadn’t seen his wife in days. Possibly he hadn’t.

  The tableau broke as everyone stood murmuring greetings to Lady Jane. She nodded to each one. Then she turned to her husband, waiting. He cleared his throat, and when he spoke, his voice was once again smooth and confident.

  “My wife and I have an announcement. As of this week, our daughter, Devri, our beloved heir to the Noble House of Davos, is betrothed to Harrison McConnell—under the Founders’ Decree.”

  If the room had been silent before, it was like the vacuum of space now. Even the fans seemed to quit spinning. Then, one by one, the nobles stood and offered their congratulations. The more they talked, the wider their smiles became. Even Lysa cracked her lips into a grin.

  Devri leaned her head against the cool stone of the doorframe. It soothed her heated, pained forehead, allowing her time to think. Davos hadn’t changed his mind at all. He’d been waiting for Jane so they could announce the wedding together.

  At this, the meeting ended. The nobles filed out, offering more congratulations as they left. Francivi Aron was so pleased he kissed Jane on both cheeks and beamed at Davos. Then he waved as he glided out of the room. The door closed with a click, and the room was empty except for Davos and Jane.

  Davos reached for Jane as if to pull her to him. But she remained immobile, out of reach. He dropped his arm.

  “What do you want me to do?” he asked. “Will you not accept my apology?”

  “That bunch is a simpering, money-hungry lot of fools!” Jane hissed.

  Davos raised an eyebrow at her tone. Then he said, “But we have appeased them. Once and for all, I think.”

  “Oh wake up, Davos! You will never appease them! And you’ve bargained off your own daughter to get them off your back!”

  Davos’ eyes went cold. “We agreed to this when she was born. And you just stood there while I announced it. Why tell me you don’t like this now?”

  Jane flung herself into a chair.

  “Because how would it have looked if I hadn’t shown up at the announcement? What would they have thought?”

  Devri’s mouth went dry. She at least thought her mother would sympathize with her, if not outright defy her father. But all Jane cared about was the appearance of family harmony, instead of the execution of it. Well, Devri wasn’t surprised. Disappointed, yes, but not surprised.

  Davos drained his elixir and swallowed loudly. “So are you saying you don’t approve?”

  What?

  “Of course I don’t approve,” Jane said. “When we got married, we agreed we’d build a better life for our family than we ever had.”

  “And we’ve done that.”

  “And we’ve also thrown our daughter upon the altar of sacrifice!”

  Davos threw his flask so hard it bounced against the far wall before clattering down to the floor. “What would you have me do? Devri will be all right! It’s time she stops star-gazing and takes up her real responsibilities!”

  Jane stood again, her jewels jangling in her haste. “Harrison McConnell is an idiot. Would you have idiot grandchildren? How’s that for carrying on the family name? Devri is smart. Smarter than most her age. That’s why sending her to the Academy was a good idea. It gave her confidence and a sense of purpose. Marrying her off to a lying, two-faced oaf will do nothing for her life.”

  “It will do everything for her life. She’ll never want for anything. She can pick where she lives.”

  “Except she must share a bed with the likes of Harrison.”

  Davos shook his head. “She doesn’t even have to do that. No one would think anything of her living in another residence after they’re settled.”

  “So are you saying, my dear husband, that I could’ve been living in another residence all this time? Why didn’t you tell me years ago?”

  Davos recoiled, stung. Then he recovered and scowled. “I’ve never stopped you from going anywhere. You spend half the year off-planet anyway and only return to make appearances at society social functions.”

  “I thought that’s what you wanted!” Jane’s voice rose to a shrill pitch.

  “I WANTED YOU HERE!” Davos roared.

  Jane drew up short, stunned. She sniffed and blinked rapidly. Then she shook her head. “You had a funny way of showing it.”

  Davos huffed and made for the door, pausing long enough to kick the flask for good measure. It clinked against the stone wall again and bounced along the floor. A drop of liquid fell out and burned the flagstone with a hiss.

  Outside the room, Devri sank down against the wall. Her dress slid with her, gathering at her waist and exposing her bare feet and thighs. But she didn’t care how undignified she looked.

  The pain in her head clouded her vision. Still, she did not cry. What good would it do?

  If she didn’t want to marry Harrison McConnell, it was up to her to get out of it. No one else would help her.

  ***

  Hot, dry air ran through the private chamber on the outer perimeter of the house. From above, large fans whirred, sending a pleasant, whispering ambiance that contrasted with the meeting taking place below.

  Devri sat in a hard-backed wooden chair four feet away from Harrison McConnell. A table sat at her elbow, heaped with untouched breads and desserts and a flagon of wine.

  They had been staring mutely at each other for a full five minutes. Occasionally, Harrison’s eyes would flick to the wine, a clear sign he was expecting her to offer him some. The smell of his expensive, spiced scent offended her nostrils. So did his expensive gold and white ceremonial tunic and red sandals. In fact, everything about Harrison—from his bright blue eyes to his tinged pink cheeks to his dull-colored brown hair—offended Devri.

  She had worn the ugliest dress she had, a loose-fitting brown thing that hung off her like a blanket. It left everything about her figure up to the imagination—except for her height. Devri liked it and had never wanted to hide it even if she could. So now she looked like a tall, brown blanket with a sour face and tightly braided hair. Maybe if she looked awful, Harrison would back out of the arrangement.

  More minutes ticked away as she tried to intimidate Harrison with her haughtiest glare. He stared back, blissfully impervious to her glaring. At the moment, his casual demeanor irritated her more than
anything else about him.

  If Devri been alone, she would have allowed the dull, rhythmic white noise of the fans to put her to sleep. She’d dreamed about that sleek bronze ship all night. About flying it toward the stars she could only look at now through the solarium ceilings. And even these had been obscured with so much sand in the last two weeks that the automated cleaning cycles couldn’t keep up. So Devri stared at the constellations through purple crusts of glass, and sighed, and hated her life. She felt like a trapped animal, cornered and frightened.

  Harrison cleared his throat.

  Devri sighed. It was up to her to speak. She had said nothing to him since he’d been escorted here. Be gracious, her father said. Happy, her father said. But she couldn’t do it. The effort alone was more than she could summon even if she hadn’t been running on limited sleep.

  Now, staring at Harrison as if he were something out of a nightmare, another headache growing from his spicy scent, it was all Devri could do not to throttle him.

  Finally, he broke custom and spoke first. “Devri—”

  She held up her hand to cut him off. “Ladyship is fine. So is mistress.”

  Harrison leaned forward and smiled.

  “You’re not a Lady yet, nor ever my mistress since I’m the same rank as you.” He reached over and poured himself a glass of wine, then sat back. “Anyway, thought you didn’t believe in all that class nonsense.”

  “And I thought you did.”

  “Oh I do. It gets me into a lot of places.” He held his glass up with a nod, and then drank, draining the wine in one go. “That’s good, as good as my own—you should have some. Loosen up, Devri. No need to be nervous.”

  Devri sputtered to life, all traces of weariness vanishing in a swirl of anger. “Nervous! And don’t you offer me my own wine, Harrison McConnell.”

  She reached over and snatched the glass out of his hand, setting it down on the table with a clink.

  “Our wine,” he corrected, sitting back in his seat like she hadn’t just done something highly offensive. “Take it easy.”

  “Take it easy? Why are you here, anyway?”