A few days had passed, and one of those injured in the assassination attempt was finally leaving the hospital.

“Sebb,” Rixie said, as he packed his things, “I cannot adequately express my appreciation for what you did. I know the Dronung has plans for something to honor you, and Pryvani has said that she paid you and Karral a bonus, and I’m glad of that, but it’s still not enough.”

Sebb laughed at that. “Not enough? I could retire on the bonus that Lady Tarsuss gave me. Comfortably. It’s more money than I ever expected to have. I’m not going to, mind you,” he added, straightening up and hoisting his pack. “Like you said…I’m Jotnar. I want some more stories to tell.”

“Gorram right,” Rixie said, offering her wrist. “And know that if you’re ever interested in leaving freelance work and want to go corporate…you’ve got a standing offer in the Tarsuss security department. That goes for you too, Trora.”

Trora had been quiet throughout this, studying her shoes; she looked up at that, and said, “I’ll consider it. My bonus didn’t have as many zeroes as Sebb’s did, but…he earned the extra zero.”

“I just was two steps slow stopping the shooter,” Sebb said, with a shrug. “You would have caught it out sooner.”

Rixie smiled, and nodded. “I’ve seen a lot of security officers. You two are both very good. The offer isn’t charity. Not that either of you will need it. Now, if you’ll excuse me….”

“No, right, you should get along to your husband. He’s the real hero in this,” Sebb said. “If he doesn’t stop Tisenius, I don’t have a chance to get my arm blown off.”

Rixie smiled. “There’s more than one hero, Sebb. Trora. Good luck, both of you.”

“Thanks, Well-born Rixie,” Sebb said, with a slight bow. Rixie returned it with a nod to Sebb, and a slight head-bob in Sebb’s direction, one aimed at Trora.

As the crown princess left, Sebb said, “So, what are you going to do next? Right back to it?”

“I…I don’t know,” Trora admitted. “I think…maybe…I’m gonna be a coward.”

“Not a chance of that,” Sebb chuckled. “You’re no coward. I mean, what you did to get away from your parents…that was braver than anything I’ve done.”

“Yeah, that’s…that’s the thing,” Trora said. “I just…you know all the things I had to do to survive.”

“Yeah,” Sebb said. “Went to the restricted zone, sold yourself out as a guard or whatever else, did whatever you had to in order to make it. Like I said, frakking brave.”

“Well…it’s just…the ‘whatever else’ part,” Trora said. “You know, when folks find out about what I did to get by….”

“What do you…oh, the prostitute part? It’s not like it’s illegal. I mean, doing it in the restricted zone is, but doing anything in the restricted zone is, that’s why you make more money there. But you’re hardly the only person who does it for a few years when they’re young, I’ve heard the money’s good.”

“It was okay,” Trora said. “The johns were…about what you’d guess for Kaol, so it wasn’t particularly fun. I was glad that Karral gave me a ticket off the rock. But…even when people say that hey, prostitution’s legal, if an ex-prostitute says, hey, let’s go on a date…they either think that they’re getting sex, like, right away, or…they run. They don’t…want to be with someone who sold it. Not forever.”

Sebb paused in the doorway, paused for a good long moment. He turned back. “You know,” he said, “on the trip here, I got to talking with the princess about my scars. How much I worried about them.”

“Why?” Trora asked. “Your scars are…you look fine.”

Sebb nodded. “Lots of people have told me that. But it’s hard to believe it when you look at yourself in the mirror, and all you see are the scars. And I figured nobody would want to be with me, not with the scars I had. I figured if I made enough money, I could get cosmetic treatment, that was always the plan. I’ve got more than enough now…and even more scars than I had on the trip here. But…the princess told me something on the trip out. She said that there are a lot of people who’d be more interested in someone with scars and a story behind them than someone with not a mark on their skin – and nothing to show for it. And you know what? I’m keeping every scar. Because there are stories behind them, every single one. And some are cool, and some make me look like a vwofas idiot, but they’re mine.”

“Good. You should keep them,” Trora said, looking down. “They’re….”

“You think that they make me look kind of sexy, don’t you?” Sebb asked. That caused Trora’s head to jerk up, and her cheeks to blush bright red.

“What?” Trora asked. Then, sighing, she said, “Yeah, I…guess I do. But….”

Sebb took a couple steps closer to her. “You have a few scars too, you know – your eyes, your arms, the sub-dermal diodes – they’re obvious, but you don’t worry about them. But your deepest scars…they don’t show. They’re on your heart and your head. But Trora…they’re part of who you are, and you’re a gorram interesting, beautiful, and tough woman. And the only thing that would cause me any hesitation in dating you is that when the time…uh…came…I’d worry that you’d find me to be…well, you’ve got a lot more experience than I probably do.”

Trora swallowed hard. “My experience…it was on Kaol. It’s not like the people I was with…not like they were worried about how I felt. Honestly, someone who was fumbling and downright bad, but actually liked me, and wanted me to feel good…would be so much better than anything that happened there.”

“Well then,” Sebb said. “I can be downright bad at sex, if that’s what you want.”

Trora smiled cautiously; Sebb leaned in and kissed her, gently, on the lips.

“You know,” she said, “you aren’t getting sex on the first date. I have to draw some lines. Just because I sold it, that doesn’t mean I’m easy.”

“That’s fine,” Sebb said. “How many dates are we talking about?”

Trora thought for a second, and said, “Okay, I lied, first date works for me. Provided there’s a second date scheduled.”

Sebb laughed. “You know, I was planning on heading off to Tuonela to visit my folks. It’s a lot, very quick, I know, but…would you like to come with me?”

Trora swallowed hard, and wiped tears from her eye with her bio hand. “I…I would like that,” she said. “I would like that a lot.”

* * *

“It’s funny,” Margu Peten said, leaning back in his chair. “You coming to visit me. You know, my son hasn’t taken a single call from me?”

“Well,” Liss said, “you did let him think you were dead for several years. After getting involved in a number of crimes and doing time on Penthe. And you’re calling him because…you’re going back to Penthe. Under the circumstances, I’m not sure what you expected.”

Margu tapped his fingers on the table, on the other side of the glass from Liss, in an Imperial detention center near the spaceport. He was wearing a different artificial forearm, one that was less battered than the old one – but one that lacked any kind of interesting modifications. It was plain metal, and Liss could tell he wasn’t fond of it.

“It was exactly what I expected from Damu,” Margu said. “I just…don’t know why you’re visiting me before you go. I’ve tried to kill you twice now. It can’t be out of…well, I was gonna say ‘love,’ but that’s not it.”

“I understand you,” Liss said. “I always have, ever since we met. Far more than I understood your son, I understood you. You’re a criminal. You’re a thief, and a liar, and a grifter. And I am too. I just found ways to channel my instincts into something productive, something that wouldn’t destroy people. If I hadn’t…I wouldn’t be ferrying assassins around, but I’d be in the same kind of place you are right now.”

“Nah,” Margu said. “You’re smarter than me. Always were. Funny how I can only tell you how much I respect you when I think my days are numbered, isn’t it? You’ve chosen your allies very well, and you’ve understood who not to cross. If you’d failed Tarsuss…you wouldn’t assume she was going to have you killed the second your back was open.”

“And you think your employers will?”

“I’m a dead man walking,” Margu said. “I’ve kept quiet about what I know, but I know it. I’ve run a lot of things for the Noble Resistance. They didn’t send me to fetch Polydix because they liked me.”

“I mean, the obvious move is to tell them what you know,” Liss said.

“It violates my code,” Margu said.

“And that’s gonna get you killed, you’ve said it yourself,” Liss retorted. “Almost did last time you picked your employers poorly. But if you share what you know, they will protect you. Hells, I’m here because I told the Imperators that I’d drop charges against you for kidnapping if you were gonna cooperate. Nest will too. They have you on conspiracy, but do you think they won’t find a way to make it work if you help them to unravel it?”

Margu gave Liss a slight smile. “They would,” he said. “But Liss…you are an honest crook. And the first rule of being an honest crook is that when you’re bought, you stay bought. You know secrets. Would you give them up to save your skin?”

Liss shook her head. “No,” she said. “But my secrets don’t involve assassination attempts.”

“Even so, if you shared everything you know with the Imperators, would you survive that? Even if they got you into protective custody?”

“I don’t know anything worth killing me for,” Liss said, not quite answering the question.

“Well, I do,” Margu replied. “And I am dead either way. So if I’m going to die…I’m going to die with honor. I’m going to keep my secrets. Nothing will pry them out of me.”

LIss shook her head. “I’m sorry, Margu.”

He shrugged. “I’ve had a few more years of life than I expected. I can accept it. I did want you to know, though…I’m sorry about the kidnapping. I had to do it, but it brought me no joy.”

“I’m sorry you’re in jail,” Liss said. “And I hope you have enough time to make your peace with everything.”

“I have,” Margu said. “Have a good life, Liss. And tell Nest…he’s beat me twice. The reason the Noble Resistance fears the humans is not that they’re stupid. It’s that they’re so gorram smart. They’re gonna own this Empire someday. Hells, you have a hybrid kid and they might be running the place.”

“I’m not a motherly type,” Liss said, rising. “Safe travels, Margu.”

He didn’t look up at her, but said, “May you never sweat an inspection, Liss.”

She left the room, and turned to the Imperator waiting for her. “I’m sorry. I hoped….”

“Don’t be,” Mpola Vidol said. “We appreciate your efforts. I thought that perhaps, given your connection, you could talk sense into him. Unfortunately, no.”

“Do you think he’s right? About being marked for death?”

Mpola shrugged. “We’ve peeled back a bit of the shell of the Noble Resistance, but there’s still a lot that’s hidden from us. We don’t know how strong their network is. Certainly, we know people connected to its leadership, like Fand – they wouldn’t hesitate to order the killing of someone with dirt on them. But we don’t know if that’s true of whoever is running it now. And even if it is…he gave us exactly what he was legally bound to and not a sentence more. You’d think that would be rewarded by letting him live out his live on Penthe.”

Liss looked back at the door, and said, “So they’ll be killing him, then.”

“Certainly,” Mpola said, “I expect he’ll probably kill himself first.”

* * *

Alex was feeling a bit more human. He was sitting on the couch in his hospital room, with Asteria (the holographic version – Rixie still didn’t fully trust either of them at full size) curled up next to him. A cane rested next to the chair; he was getting pretty good with the neural stabilizers, but it wasn’t perfect yet, and while they’d only done some limited training with the stabilizers off…he felt very much like a newborn when the stabilizers were turned off. With the stabilizers on, he could send a conscious instruction to his limbs and get them to do the work; without them, all the conscious instruction in the world didn’t seem to matter. Nick had been quite pleased that Alex had managed to open and close his right hand. Partially.

Nick did say it was as good as he expected, and that it would take a long time. And Alex was okay with that. But if this was his starting point – toddlers are unsteady, but toddlers are also young.

So he’d resolved to get used to the cane. He had a suspicion that even if he fully recovered, it might be good to have something to lean on. And he wanted to remind himself that the goal wasn’t recovered-but-with-stabilizers. It was to recover as much as he could, as himself. If it wasn’t perfect, he could live with that; he’d rather it wasn’t perfect and was all him.

Still, while he worried about the future, here in the present he had his arm around his daughter, and she was dozing off a bit; Rixie had a spot next to him on the couch, but she was pacing nervously. He laughed. “You are going to be fine. They’re going to love you. You’re you.”

“I feel like there were about twelve times where I sounded like a gigantic fool.”

“Gigantic? For sure. Fool? Not a chance. Come and sit down,” he said.

Rixie sighed, and turned back to her husband and daughter; she’d tried to sleep on the couch via hologram until Alex had told her in no uncertain terms that she was being foolish; he knew she loved him, he knew hospitals were dull, and he knew she and Asteria would be so much happier at the palace. And she had countered that he’d have to keep repeating it because if the situation was reversed, he’d be sleeping on her pillow.

He’d done it before, when she was in the hospital, with it touch-and-go whether she’d survive.

And they’d do it again. Someday. One of them for the other, waiting as they slipped off due to old age. But it wouldn’t be tomorrow. It would be years from now, Gods willing.

And if they didn’t like her…her husband loved her. And he was worth all of them combined.

She sat down next to him, and let him lean on her (holographically – but you know that by now). The news channel was just getting to Gudda Nieadlgisl’s introduction of his interview with the new Crown Princess, and then they cut to her and Gudda, her greeting him in a pleasant, businesslike tone.

“You know,” Alex said, “you should have dropped your voice into Iron Maiden mode.”

“Uh huh,” Rixie said, putting her arm around him. “I’m glad I didn’t take Pryvani’s bet that you’d say that.”

“I am hoping that it’s because you considered doing it,” Alex said. He looked over at his wife, and grinned to match hers. “I love you so much.”

“Believe me,” Rixie said, kissing him on the forehead. “I know.”

* * *

“You seem a bit distracted,” Gjera said, sliding a pastry across her small kitchen table.

“Hmm?” Victor said. “No, just trying to follow the interview without turning my translator on. I took Jotnar and English in secondary school, and more Jotnar at the academy, but you don’t practice it….”

Gjera looked over at her vidscreen, which was playing the interview with the new crown princess. Gjera was wearing a robe and nothing else; Victor was wearing a pair of boxer shorts and nothing else.

It was the most they’d worn for the past fifteen hours.

“Her Jotnar is pretty good, for someone who grew up a Hoplite. Accent’s weird, but can’t fault her for that.”

“Rixie’s always been very proud of being Jotunn. She’s why I took Jotnar in school. And why I went into the corps.”

“I still can’t quite wrap my head around the fact that you know the Crown Princess,” Gjera said.

“I still don’t get how Rixie ended up a princess. I mean, I understand the how, but still…she’s Aunt Rixie. She used to bring Ryan over to play. She and Alex are friends with my parents, it’s weird to think that she was a princess the whole time and never knew.”

He turned back to Gjera, and smiled. “And I’m not sure how you find me knowing Rixie to be weird, you got on with the Empress just fine.”

“Yeah, well…that was the first time I’d ever met the Dronung,” Gjera said, blushing a bit. “I know, I kind of came in like I ran the place, but….”

Victor chuckled. “I didn’t realize you had a different mode.”

Gjera playfully slugged him in the shoulder. “Hey! I’m being vulnerable here! I just…I always knew what I wanted to be. Set a target and kept on it. And it’s always worked.”

“So that’s why you asked me out for a celebratory drink or six,” Victor said.

“No. No…it isn’t. I…you were handsome and we’d just gotten Skor Aljansen to tell us literally everything, I was in the mood to celebrate and maybe a bit more, but….”

She looked down. “I wasn’t sorry it ended up with us hooking up. Wasn’t sorry that we’ve done so every night this week. But…I wasn’t expecting to be worried about when it had to end. When you went back to Tuaut and forgot me.”

Victor took Gjera’s hand, and smiled. “I am gonna have to go back to Tuaut. And after that, wherever else they send me. That’s the job, and I wanted this as much as you wanted to be an attorney. So yeah, I’ll have to leave at some point. But forget you? How do you think I could forget you?”

Gjera looked back up. “I mean…long-distance relationships…they struggle, you know. It’s hard to keep them stable.”

“I have two human parents and three titan parents, I’m a hybrid, I have literally eleven brothers and sisters, and that doesn’t count the people who were always around like Odin and Ryan and Thyllia and Pelle and Khali. I don’t know what this stability thing is and I don’t really trust it. What I do know is that I’ve never met anyone quite like you. And yeah, we’re just starting dating, but I’m pretty sure if you think it’s worth it…you’ll find a way.”

Gjera’s shy smile morphed into something far more confident. “You think so, do you? You know, you might regret that. When I want something I get it. Always have.”

“Do you now? Anything in particular you’d like?”

Gjera turned off the vidscreen. “Yes,” she said.

* * *

Tuva Errisdat lay in her bunk, flexing her new artificial hand. She vacillated between ignoring and watching the video screen to try to alleviate the boredom. She was in a high-security wing of the pre-trial detention facility, partly because she had tried to assassinate the Crown Princess, and partly because, as a former Royal Guard member…she was definitely not safe with the general population of prisoners.

She didn’t have much to do. Prisoners at this stage might be preparing for trial, but she was simply waiting for the hearing where she’d plead guilty. The Dronung had given the prosecutors discretion if Tuva cooperated, and she had…though mainly to preserve her family. For what that was worth. Her parents had visited her briefly, to tell her not to expect their help or support. Her younger sister had sent her a terse message noting that she’d been removed from guard training due to her being a security risk; it ended in profanity and hope that she got the death penalty.

She wouldn’t, but it wasn’t to be a light sentence – thirty years on Rura Gastu, with a possible reduction to twenty-five if she behaved herself.

That wasn’t the worst possible outcome, she tried to tell herself; after five years of work she could live and work in a guarded city. True, she could only travel to other cities on Gastu with permission, and she couldn’t actually leave the planet. But it wasn’t a terrible life. Heck, you could build a family – people did. Sometimes.

Sometimes.

The Crown Princess was being effusive about her husband. About how brave he’d been, and how lucky she was to have him. A human. And their frakking human son, and their freak of a daughter.

And Tuva realized, watching her light up as she explained how her husband supported her with everything he had, how he knew how scared she’d always been, how lonely when she was an orphan, and how he had tried to show her love every day they’d been together, and how grateful Rixie Carey was for every single day….

Tuva realized that she would never be that happy.

And for the first time since she’d been arrested, she rolled over in her bunk and began to cry.

* * *

On the fifth floor of the palace, Aud, Skor, and Luviisa were watching the interview in a common room. This was not by choice, and it was not optional. Rajenlif had not been subtle in her message; they had failed. Completely.

Of the three, only Skor technically retained an official link to a noble family. Both Rixie and Rajenlif had sent through a formal discommendation request for Audara; whichever family one thought she belonged to previously, she belonged to neither now. Her title of princess had been stripped from her, and she was barred from succeeding under any circumstance.

Luviisa’s fall had stung even more; while Rajenlif had full power over the ten noble families, she had considered forcing Tiernan to bring her discommendation before the 79 Families. She would lose, yes, but at least she would go down swinging. But Siru – Siru! – had sent through a request for discommendation, and Tiernan had simply signed it. Her granddaughter was wasting no time in consolidating her power.

Luviisa hated to admit that she was somewhat impressed.

Her husband, Ranu, was still free, and though he’d visited a few times….

She honestly felt bad about Ranu. She did love him, as much as she loved anyone. Which was not nearly enough, but enough that she still felt the pang of disappointing him. Siru had made arrangements to support him, and to allow him to live at the family estate as long as he wanted to. She had shown respect for her family – what she considered her family, anyhow.

Luviisa could see the writing on the wall; she was going to be spared death, but she was never going to walk free. She’d be sent to the Imperial Dungeon, where she could hang out with Syon Fand and all the rest of the misfits. And maybe she could keep her hand in, a bit…not that Fand had much control anymore.

She would be sent there, unless she took it upon herself not to go. There was only one way for that to happen, however. And she wasn’t sure she was ready to do it.

Skor watched the viewscreen, hardly looking at the two women who flanked him. He had his own decision to make. He’d had not told his wife, not yet, but he had been offered probation, a plea to a single Class One count of concealing evidence of a crime. He would not have all his assets seized; what would be left would be enough to live on. Not enough to live large on, but enough to have a comfortable apartment where he could raise his youngest son, who would be born a few months from now. His wife…his wife was going to go to Penthe or Gastu, probably. Her attorney had bluntly told her that her choices were likely forty years on a penal colony if she pled, or life if she went to trial and was convicted, as she would certainly be. They didn’t have enough to tie her to the earlier killings – but conspiracy to murder Ljied and attempts on the life of the princess…they had far and away enough evidence to convict.

Skor knew that Audara was going to Gastu or Penthe. And he knew that she expected him to come with. She figured he’d get a year or two, but even so, she viewed this as a positive. They could move there, and when his sentence was up, he could travel freely, leave the planet and carry messages for her. If caught, they’d send him back to Penthe, where she was stuck anyhow. They could raise their son together, and when she was free, many years in the future, maybe they could rebuild their lives, and continue the fight.

But their son would grow up on a penal colony. That was a hell of a place to grow up. If he came through it in one piece, he’d still resent that he’d been given no better chance than to be the son of a prisoner, growing up on a harsh colony, paying for her crimes.

And he’d know that he was the son of a man who stayed with her, even in Hadia.

Skor didn’t want to fight. He wanted to get it right. For once in his long, pointless life, he wanted to get it right.

Siru didn’t hate him. She’d said as much when she’d talked to him. (And unlike Luviisa, who was grudgingly impressed with Siru…Skor was downright proud of her. She’d kept a moral compass about her, and maneuvered skillfully, and the Aljansen name might actually recover its previous glory because of her. That was Venla’s doing; both his children had had good mothers.) He wanted Siru to be involved with her half-brother. That didn’t mean he wanted Siru to be responsible for his child – she had a life of her own to build. But perhaps she’d be willing to treat her youngest brother with the kindness she’d shown Riggu. Not to provide him with riches, but just…to give him an example of a good person in his family. Someone to look up to.

As for Riggu…he’d sent Skor a single message, saying Siru had told him he wasn’t involved…but that he found it hard to believe it, and he’d need proof. (It had not been quite that polite, but Skor didn’t need it to be; he did not expect politeness from Riggu this side of the grave.)

He looked to his wife at his left, and his mother at his right, and he looked back at the screen, where Princess Hyrikken was concluding a cordial interview, and as Gudda Nieadlgisl was telling viewers to stay with them, because his interview with Kullervo Throden and Hyrikken’s mother was coming up next. And Skor took in a deep breath, and let it out.

He had sacrificed so much to be with Aud, and it had brought him to ruin, just like his father had said.

He could either stay in the ruins with her, or he could climb out without her.

But with his son.

He dreaded the conversation…and he would wait another night for it. But he would take the plea. He would stay here. He would raise his son by himself. And if he could rebuild a relationship with his daughter and son….

But he would not get ahead of himself. He would simply do what was right, and what came next…well, he’d see.

* * *

“Mom’s interview is next,” Rixie said. “She felt like she did bad, but dad thought she was outstanding, and I’m trusting dad on this.”

“You really are your mom’s daughter,” Alex said. “You thought you did terrible, and you were great. Though you talked about me too much. I’m not that great a catch. You probably could have had Vanser.”

Rixie rolled her eyes. “That would be exceedingly weird. And I think Vanser would agree that you’re the better catch. Charlotte certainly would.”

“Still,” Alex said, “I…I just got lucky, Rix. You make it sound like you’d be lost without me, and you’re so wrong. You are so strong, so amazing….”

“First,” Rixie said, “you spent your whole speech to the Senate praising me, so I had to get you back a bit. But second…Alex…you know exactly how weak I can be. You know that I don’t trust my own strength, that I have always struggled to believe the people who love me will keep loving me.”

Alex could have shot back a joke, but he simply said, quietly, “I know. Which is why I will never stop loving you.”

Rixie smiled. “You…you know, part of the reason we never said it, for so long, was that I didn’t want you to say it. The words were hollow. But you never stopped doing it. You just loved me with your whole heart, and gorram, that’s an enormous heart.”

“It’s not, really,” Alex said. “Just about the size of a mosaberry.”

Rixie rolled her eyes, and let the comment go. “You always have put me first. When I told you I was Kullervo’s daughter, you talked me down. You joked, you laughed, hells, you said you were gonna be unserious precisely because I needed you to be. You were as scared as I was…but you didn’t worry about your feelings. You worried about mine. And when you thought I could be in danger….”

Rixie rubbed her husband’s back (holographically – oh, heck, you know this by now), and said, “I’m not surprised that you leapt into action to defend me, Alex. You always tell me I’ve protected you, and I have as best I could, but you’ve…you’ve always protected me, too.”

Alex smiled. “Maybe we just both should admit that maybe we could have made it on our own…maybe without each other we’d have figured some things out. But it couldn’t have ever been as good as this.”

“That’s gorram right,” Rixie said. “You are what I live for, Alex. You and the kids, and Lexie, and whatever other grandkids we have someday. And our friends, and our home, and our amazing life. And it is amazing, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Alex said. “Heaven’s got nothin’ on this.”