21 The Entire Empire is a Moral Quandary #2
“I’m going to be the next emperor—it’s already decided.
My mother hasn’t made anything official yet.
I think she might still be holding out some small, delusional hope for Spie, but Spie will never want it, and I wouldn’t force it on her.
And if I’m being truly honest with myself, as terrified as I am of the role, I want it.
I believe I can make a real difference. But it means I can’t move through the universe invisibly.
Everything I touch, everything I do...
it all impacts the lives of trillions of people I’ll never meet.
People who will live and die in my name.
Sometimes, all the time, that knowledge paralyzes me.
Anxiety, you could call it, I suppose. I—I can’t imagine being with someone for the sake of physical pleasure alone.
I need more—need someone I can be myself with.
But being myself around others is...well, it’s hard.
I wish every day I’d been born like Spie, able to move through the universe worry-free, with little apparent consequence.
I envy her, you know. We came from the same womb, and yet—only I ended up cursed.
” He slipped the glove and ring back on.
“You’re not cursed.” Temmi stepped closer to him.
“Anxious, I’ll buy. But cursed? You’re the only one telling yourself you can’t have what you desire.
Maybe you think denying yourself is noble, but I think it’s stupid.
You’re an Expani. On my planet, I couldn’t scrape together enough credits for a good dust high, let alone a single term at university.
I went to jail because I had the gall to steal surplus items from my boss’s inventory and start up my own little side business.
We were drowning in medical debt—the hospital started refusing my mother her treatments.
But after my arrest, no one would hire me.
My family ended up on the fucking streets because of me.
You think I wanted to be a trash collector?
You think anyone gave a single shit? In two years, my mom aged entire decades.
“Meanwhile, you bask on a planet with more clean air and fresh water than the whole of my solar system, with the entire universe at your command, and you act tortured ? Fuck that, Nicky. There’s no personal moral quandary.
The entire empire is already a moral quandary.
So, if you want something, then fucking take it.
I’m here. I’m willing. Stop worrying and fucking kiss me already. Your fucking Highness .”
The space between them vanished in a single stride of his long legs.
His gloved hands snaked around her neck, bunched in her hair, tilted her head up.
She was shoved back against the telescope.
His mouth found hers before she could so much as take a breath.
There was nothing tentative about the press of his lips to hers.
They were surprisingly chapped, a little rough.
He kissed like a man starved. Hungry, wet, more than a little desperate.
Temmi tried to match his tempo, tried to sink into the moment, but she couldn’t quite separate from her assessing mind, couldn’t let go, couldn’t enjoy it.
She moved her lips automatically, like following the steps of a dance.
But there was little accompanying emotion.
Just an exchange of saliva. Royal though it was.
Doesn’t matter, she told herself. Wouldn’t she kiss just about anyone to keep Ollie and her mother safe? Wouldn’t she do a lot more than just kiss?
It wasn’t bad. For his lack of experience, Nix had natural technique. A little sloppy, sure, but Temmi was no expert kisser herself. It just wasn’t...well it was like kissing a friend. It wasn’t anything more than a kiss.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
When Nix pulled back, he was breathless, his cheeks flushed.
Gorgeous, Temmi thought, moved by the abstract beauty of him but not the reality.
His pupils were dilated, an expression like shock on his face.
That expression quickly somersaulted into horror.
His hands in her hair went suddenly slack and he stumbled backward.
“I didn’t mean to— I shouldn’t have— I’m so sorry, Temmi. I can’t believe I— I have to go.” He threw himself at the ladder, jumping the full ten feet to the tower’s floor. The thud of him landing shook the platform. And then he was running, a full-on sprint, without looking back.
Temmi may not have been blown away by the kiss either, but damn, was that a demoralizing reaction.
Not two minutes after Nix fled, Justine appeared with a camera crew.
Before Temmi could also flee, her producer grilled her about what had transpired between her and Nix.
She gave non-answers. We looked through the telescope.
He told me about his childhood. I told him about mine.
Not once did she say the beloved Prince of Expan had kissed her and then run away like Temmi had held an LZ blaster to his head.
Blessing Stone would’ve been proud.
Justine frowned. “Let’s go back a bit, yeah?
How did you manage to whisk His Highness away to be alone?
I heard you stole him from Kya Ep-Kmin. He must like you very much.
It’s only night one and you’ve already had a secret tryst. How do you think the others will feel about that?
How do you think Cailin Frederik will feel? ”
“Cailin?” Temmi said. “I don’t give a fuck how Cailin Frederik feels.”
“And everyone else?” Justine prompted.
“I wasn’t aware I’d flown through six jumpgates to worry about how some other girls feel.”
Justine popped a piece of chewing gum. “I think we got enough here. The night’s coming to a close. Want me to walk you to your room?”
Temmi nodded but didn’t leave before tapping her CB. She drafted a message and, this time, didn’t delete it.
What the fuck is wrong with your brother?
· · ·
The room Temmi was meant to share with Arbora was lavish and comfortable.
There were two large beds with matching sea-green duvets and three plush pillows apiece, two walk-in closets, and two nightstands made of some kind of dark wood.
Temmi’s trunks had been piled atop the far bed, so she made her way there.
A salty, damp breeze slipped through a window left slightly ajar.
Gooseprickles erupted along her bare arms. Kneeling on her bed, she latched the window shut, then sat, staring at the closed door, and breathed.
Arbora had yet to return to their room; this might be Temmi’s only moment alone.
Though, of course, she had to pee. With a groan, she shed her boots and ruined dress, placed Spie’s three hairpins atop her nightstand, and went rummaging in her trunks for a pair of sweats and a baggy tee shirt.
She retrieved her orrist basalt necklace from her boot and placed it around her neck, tucking it beneath her shirt.
Once comfortable, she slunk from her room, in search of the promised washroom across the hall.
The corridor was empty except for a figure near the far stairs.
Based on their backward cap and cargo shorts, it had to be Justine.
She was hissing something either into her CB or at a comm device in her ear.
But she was too far away for Temmi to catch the words being said—that, or the language wasn’t Expanese.
..Temmi couldn’t tell. Was too tired to care.
Finding the washroom, Temmi shoved inside. There were separate stalls for sanitizing, showering, and relieving oneself. With a yawn, she pulled open an aluminum-sheeted toilet stall door. Only to freeze.
The stall was already occupied.
Kya Ep-Kmin, the Pikliminian contestant, sat on the toilet, body slumped sideways against the stall’s left partition, dress hiked to her thighs, one leg jutting awkwardly outward.
She could’ve been sleeping, if not for the crimson blood oozing from her open, sightless, eyes.
More blood rimmed her nostrils, and a single viscous line of red dribbled between her parted lips.
Temmi stared, mind refusing to compute. The stall door swung back to smack her in the arm. Morbidly, she stepped forward and, in a horrified but automated movement, laid two fingers against the woman’s exposed throat. Waited. Adjusted. Waited some more.
No pulse.