Chapter 29
Twenty-nine
Jada
Awell-dressed woman stands before twelve thrones, pleading her case desperately with the divine order.
Her eyes are a shade of violet, reminding me of Brinn’s.
A pointed, thick-brimmed hat sits upon her blonde hair, pin straight and cut bluntly at her chin.
I would find her intimidating if it weren’t for the twelve Kosmos making her appear demure instead.
“Please, I beg you. My mother’s health was declining. I hadn’t realized she was falling behind on the tax payments until after her passing. I cannot afford to pay off the sum.”
“If you are unable to recompense what is due, the Order will be forced to take action by reclaiming public property.” Portia’s voice drawls, cold and detached.
“You cannot take my home,” exasperated, she pleads, clasping her hands together. “It is all I have left of my family. I will have no place to live. If you would only consider allowing me to make payments in small increments, I would be able to–”
“Do the Kosmos not defend the galaxies, providing you with a safe haven to live and thrive?”
“Well, yes, of course you do. But—”
“Are you suggesting that the Order cut back on our efforts simply because you are unwilling to provide what is owed? You would put all of Astralis at risk?”
The throne room is silent as the insinuation is thrown at the poor woman. The Cosmic Hall drips wealth; surely one woman’s payment would not be the difference between safety and risk. My pen sits against the parchment, awaiting the response.
Shoulders slumped, the woman finally responds, “No, majesty.”
“Good, I would hope not.” Portia offers a smile that should be interpreted as sweet, but only fills me with disgust. “You have until the end of the cycle to produce the outstanding balance, or the Kosmos will be forced to take measures. May the stars guide you. The constellations are the only constant.” The entire room mutters the phrase together like a prayer.
I look up, feeling torn between my duty and empathy towards the woman.
Worry and fury mix on her face, the dejection visibly wounding her.
“Next?” Pluto’s voice booms.
The hearings carry on, a mixture of collections, well-disguised bribes, and rewards given out to citizens of Astralis for one reason or another. But the last meeting rattles me straight to the core.
Elio greets the male—Astral if I had to guess—dressed casually in well-worn clothes.
While they show signs of use, they’re still finer than any garment I own on Lunara.
“Mr. Vega, you have been summoned here after an anonymous report was made regarding suspicious activity on your account. Do you confirm or deny this?”
“And what exactly did that report specify?”
“Actively refusing to acknowledge a confirmation or denial will be seen as confirmation, Mr. Vega.”
“Can I not know what it is I’ve been accused of?” I have to say, I admire his spark.
Elio glances down at the stack of parchment in his hands, flipping the top of the page up towards his line of sight. “You were seen attempting to utilize the portal to access the human worlds. Were you or were you not doing this?”
“If they are able to come here, why are we not allowed to see how they live, too? Why can’t we see what life is like for us on other planets?”
Portia huffs out a laugh that Elio pointedly ignores. “Are you unhappy here, Mr. Vega?”
“No—I was merely curious.”
“Are you mistreated here?”
“No, as I said, I would like the same opportunity that they have to—”
“Was a message not put out prior to the humans visiting Astralis explicitly stating that the portals were not to be accessed or tampered with in any way?”
“Yes, majesty, but—”
“For your insolence and disobedience, you will be imprisoned for a full cycle.”
“I haven’t done anything wrong!”
Pluto’s voice booms over the growing argument. “Continue your opposition, and that timeframe will double, Mr. Vega.” He glances at an official standing off to the side, dressed all in white. “Please star-shoot him to the dungeons.”
“Wait—no! You can’t do this. I’ve done nothing wrong!” Mr. Vega’s voice echoes throughout the chamber as he vanishes from sight, the official transporting him out of the Hall and to somewhere likely far worse.
I finish my transcription as the Kosmos talk amongst themselves before slowly departing, not daring to look up from my small desk.
An unfamiliar emotion gnaws at my insides, one that I can’t quite place.
Is it guilt? I’m suddenly questioning if I am, in fact, on the right side of all of this. Oh, that’s what it is. Shame.
“Are you alright, Miss Bellamy?” Elio’s honeyed voice asks as he hovers above my desk. I look up, meeting his striking blue gaze.
I bite my cheek, unsure of what to say. His eyebrows scrunch in concern, just as Pluto steps beside him, dismissively placing a hand on his shoulder. “Well done today, Elio.”
Elio searches my face for any trace of what I’m feeling before nodding to Pluto, turning and exiting. “Did you enjoy your first batch of public hearings, Jada?”
“They were very interesting. I do have to ask, are judgments always made so quickly?”
“You speak of Mr. Vega?” I nod in confirmation.
“Disobedience plants the seed to rebellion, Jada. If we bent the rules or did not lead with a firm hand, others would take advantage of that. Do you understand?” I offer a grim smile and nod once more.
“Excellent. That’s all for today. An official will meet you after you file your notes to show you where you can stay during your time in Astralis.
” The shame within me courses strongly, like oily regret. What have I gotten myself into?
I muster the energy to force out, “Thank you so much, truly.”
No one should live in fear of falling out of line. What makes their reign absolute? My mind flashes back to the image of the tipped scales I saw out my window.
I didn’t understand then.
But I’m beginning to.