Chapter 54
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Evelyn woke to the sound of her communicator making a noise that resembled a jackhammer.
Her head throbbed. She groped for the device, intent on chucking it across the room.
Surely nothing good could come from that hellish noise machine.
Why did she even own one? Who would willingly subject themselves to this racket?
The communicator in hand, she opened a bleary eye and read the name on the display.
Her heart sank. Corvinia wouldn’t be calling her unless her time on the Dawn was nearly up.
Churning in her gut joined the pounding in her head, anxiety meeting hangover in a hideous dance through her system.
She unlocked the communicator and accepted the transmission.
Sitting up in bed, she saw a bottle of painkillers next to a tall glass of water and an insulated mug that she desperately hoped held coffee.
She popped a few pills into her mouth and chased them with the water.
Her mouth felt like a ferret had taken up residency in it for a month and then had skipped out on the rent, leaving a foul, fuzzy mess for her to deal with.
Never drinking again.
Aunt Corrie’s image swirled into focus on the tiny screen in her hands. She squinted at the small image and grunted a greeting.
“Morning, sunshine. You look chipper,” Corvinia said. Was she screaming, or was the volume turned all the way up on the communicator?
“Fuck off,” Evelyn said. She reached for the insulated mug and took an experimental sip, her mood improving a thousand-fold when the coffee hit her taste buds. She wasn’t sure what she’d done to deserve a man like Aiden in her life, but she was grateful for whatever it was.
“I see the first cup isn’t down your gullet yet.”
Evelyn grunted again.
“Oh, my God, are you hungover? What are they doing to you on that ship?”
“Giving me a taste of the good life. Why are you calling at what I assume is an ungodly hour?”
“I haven’t seen you this hungover since your parent’s vow renewal,” Corvinia mused. “Did you get into tequila again?”
“If you’re going to make me be awake, could you please get to the point?” Evelyn sipped from the insulated mug.
“Lillian’s managed a really beautiful hack. Your declaration is playing three times an hour. The streets are in chaos. You need to get into position and send me coordinates so I can time overthrowing the bases and activate the worm in the shield system.”
Evelyn swallowed the sip of coffee she had been holding in her mouth a little harder than intended. Her throat ached, and she massaged the lump that had appeared there. She hadn’t realized Lillian had managed to edit the video already. Had she been drinking in the kitchen for that long?
“Already?”
“I’ve been nudging this process along for years, darling girl.”
“I had just hoped for a little more time.” A little more time to enjoy this life. Perfectly doctored coffee. Bookshelves. People who knew who she was and weren’t afraid of her. Aiden.
“Evelyn.” Corrie sighed. “I know this isn’t what you wanted. It’s not what I wanted for you. You’re not meant for the political arena. But I know you can do this.”
Want. Want wasn’t something that was really in your vocabulary when you were part of a royal family.
Oh, fripperies? Sure. You could want those.
But you couldn’t want for a direction that differed from the path that had been laid out for you.
Evelyn’s designated path had been one of secrecy and service. This was just more of the same.
She’d let herself want things while she’d been on the Dawn — relationships, a life — and she was going to have to let all those desires fade into the ether. It would be a gigantic waste of everyone’s time if she didn’t follow through now.
It was a titanic leap of faith to blindly follow through with this plan set out before her — faith that Corrie’s men could flip Emil’s bases.
That the public really supported the course of action they were embarking on.
That the worm would work. That Mathias was right when he’d nudged them onto this course in the first place.
Evelyn had trusted Corvinia’s judgment her entire life. The one time she’d ignored her, she’d wound up in Emil’s stasis pod. The task before her was a large one, but really, Corrie had done all the hard parts. All she had to do was bleed into a cup.
She sighed. “Let’s say I can. And let’s say we do. Corrie, what the fuck am I going to do after?”
“You’re going to take things one day at a time. You’re going to do your best.”
“I’m not sure I’m willing to do my best if that involves sacrificing my happiness,” Evelyn whispered. I’m not sure I can go back to hiding myself away. “I feel so selfish.”
“No, Evie. You’re being honest.”
Evelyn felt a tear running down her cheek.
At least you’re not crying in a room full of people now.
She furiously brushed it away and shoved her damp hand through her hair.
Waking up to life-changing news should be old hat to her by now.
She couldn’t waste another moment she had on this ship by wallowing in self-pity.
“Play it all the way through, Evelyn. You can do that.”
Evelyn nodded. “You should contact Cairn. He’s the one that understands the maths to get us in position on time. I’m just the talent.”
Corrie kissed her fingertips and touched them to the camera lens. Evelyn did the same, then cut the connection.
Play it all the way through.
Corrie would give her the advice she’d parroted to Nannette yesterday. It was one of the better tools she’d equipped Evelyn with as a child. It was now looking like one of the only ones she could employ until her feet touched back down on Tanalian soil.
Her time on the Rising Dawn was coming to an end. She could feel it in her bones. In a matter of hours, they’d be enacting the next phase of Corvinia’s plan.
It hurt her heart to think about the slow eradication of everything that made Tanalia home, but it also sparked a perverse sense of pride in her that the people were finally willing to push back against the slow press of Emil’s authoritarianism.
If they failed, she didn’t think she could live with the consequences. Wouldn’t. A cool acceptance flowed over her, the knowledge that she wouldn’t be returning to that medivessel ever again.
If she borrowed some of Aiden’s borderline delusional optimism and believed that the plan would work, then what? She’d walk into the Senate and activate the device that would confirm her eligibility to enact the clause. Fine. That was easy to figure out.
Imagining everything after that made her skin crawl.
Evelyn knew her father’s days were filled with meetings, mornings spent negotiating petty squabbles and signing off on fund distributions.
Afternoons off-site, Amplifying the field or mind that needed the most help that day.
Evenings were for his wife. Hubert Alpertti defended this sacred time fiercely, but even his insistence that it not be encroached upon was regularly tested.
Her sisters had both devoted most of their time to the maintenance of the planet’s needs, their own passions relegated to bi-monthly weekends, their spouses infinitely patient.
Dread pressed down on her as she thought of her future life on Tanalia.
She needed to pivot. Evelyn could see herself never getting out of bed again if she stayed trapped in this mindset.
She’d spent plenty of time thinking about how she didn’t want her life to look.
What was the point of saving the planet if she couldn’t run it in a way that allowed her to maintain a shred of sanity?
A way that let her get the things she wanted. A free Tanalia. A life lived absent of the shame in her inherent skills that had been baked into her for decades. Aiden.