26. Ryker #2
“Tell them to keep going. Don’t let them enter any further and keep scanning. If possible, I want as much coverage of the entire moon as we can get.”
My Prism dings with a message from Raea. With a single glance at the screens, I leave and head out to the terrace. It’s going to be a long night.
I button my dress shirt, the crisp white fabric sliding over the ink on my arms and chest. It feels wrong. Confining. Like armor meant to hide something instead of protect it.
My father used to call my tattoos scars of a commoner. He said it like a verdict. Like something broken in me had surfaced. He wanted a son who looked untouched. Polished. Someone who could wear the crown without leaving a mark on it.
I remember the first needle. The sting. The choice. Trysten got one that day too—a grand fuck you to both our fathers.
Every line of ink was deliberate. A quiet rebellion I could carry beneath silk and medals. The octopus on my arm. The waves along my neck. Proof that my body was never his to shape, no matter how hard he tried.
In a week, they’ll place the crown on my head. I’ll stand where he stood. Speak the words he spoke. Play the role he perfected.
To them, I’ll look pristine. The Prince of Okenen, ready for war.
But beneath the pressed white shirt and the weight of expectation, I’m still the boy who refused to be empty. Still marked by decisions he couldn’t erase. Still carrying a history he never wanted me to have. And he’ll never wash it away.
A knock sounds at the door. “Your Highness, they’re ready.”
I straighten my cuffs and step forward.
“Prince Anders, over here,” one of the news anchors calls out.
I nod for her to continue.
“There is news about your upcoming coronation. Are you confident you will Bond over the next three months?”
I dip my chin, hiding my smile behind the confident mask I wear for everyone else.
Of course everyone is oblivious of how close we came to losing forty men and women last night during an off-the-books mission.
Treon’s team was able to scan the moon, and we eventually pulled them home.
There’s been no sign of the Alpha team. So now, on top of a potential rescue mission to Chyros, we have to figure out how to get to our team stuck on Draerr.
I don’t let any of that tension or fear show. Not now, not ever. Instead, I focus on the shallow questioning from the system’s media teams, who seem more interested in my upcoming coronation instead of the upcoming war.
“I am to be presented at seventeen ceremonies this year, starting with Princess Raea’s. I do feel confident I will be Bonded before the year's end. Next question.”
“Prince Anders, I am Jules from Tithys Newsgroup. What is your kingdom doing to handle the intake of refugees coming from other kingdoms, and what will you do if your own planets need to be evacuated?”
My grip tightens on the podium, and I take in a deep breath. I know the movements and plans of my kingdom, and I know how to inspire hope across the system.
“My mother and I are working alongside King Bastian and Queen Amaya to make sure that all refugees have a place to go. Between our two kingdoms, we have enough room to host the entire system. In the need of evacuation from our own kingdom, we are in discussions for safehouses and possibly retreating to some of the system’s moons. ”
My publicist, Kaes, nods subtly to my response.
Damn, they aren’t holding back today.
“We have time for one more question,” Kaes announces to the crowd.
“Prince Anders, how do you think you will fill your father’s shoes? He was a beloved king, and many in the kingdom are still mourning his loss.”
I swallow down the acid crawling up my throat at the onslaught of traumatic memories and take a sip of water. Nobody knows the truth about my father.
“I can only pray that I become half the man my father was.” The words taste like copper and ash.
It’s a perfect performance. The world saw the doting father and the kind, visionary king, but they never saw the man who used silence as a weapon or the way he could make 'I love you' sound like a threat.
I’m not filling his shoes. I’m trying not to be crushed by them. Nobody in this room knows that my greatest fear isn't failing to be like him—it’s succeeding.
“Thank you.”
Some people clap as I'm ushered off the stage, guzzling more water. My Prism pings with a video message from my mother telling me I did a great job. Kaes seems to agree.
“You’re trending,” Maya announces from my other side.
Aksel snorts from behind me.
All the media attention is grating on my nerves, but I guess I better learn to deal with it. It’s not going away anytime soon.
“Kaes, reach out to Anneli and Cassia to tell them I'll do the interview before the Ceremony. Maya, can you make sure that over the next week, I have as much privacy as possible? Focus the content around my efforts to fulfill my duties, not my relationship with Raea.”
They both nod and board the transport ahead of me with Rune, Aksel, and my small guard of Regils taking up my sides.
“Marry me!” a girl yells over the loud hum of the crowd.
I look over my shoulder to find a young girl with copper hair using her Prism to project a hologram of herself above the crowd. I shake my head discreetly and board, ready to head back to Malaya.
I allow the generals and Dukes to lead the meetings and encourage them to make the choices they need to make.
Every meeting the following day runs smoothly and ends up being productive.
With a clear picture of where our quadrants will be stationed and pulled back to defend, I know I can leave for Kyrr tomorrow.
For now, we have to regroup on the Draerr mission.
King Bastian wants to discuss it when I get to Kyrr.
Late in the night, King Alexi announced that any kingdom’s quadrants found in Ateria’s airspace will be seen as an act of war. We still don’t know what to make of it, and moments after, Ateria went dark again.
My transport has been packed, and my personal guard will accompany me along with my courtiers and Trysten.
I say my goodbyes at dinner, knowing I will see them in a week for the Ceremony and wedding.
Clara begs to come with me. I love that she’s taken to Raea.
It would be hard not to be. I remind her she has to wait for her dress to be done.
She will wear a cascading ice-blue and white gown for the wedding.
It is such a similar shade to Raea’s hair. I presume it was by design.
The next morning, my transport leaves at first light. I remember what my mother and I talked about and it's what propels me forward. Once we leave the planet, there’s only one thing left to focus on—getting back to Raea before the shadows do.