Brightly Burning(85)

“Because I am ordinary. My face is, at least. There is a beauty standard that I do not fit. My shape, my features, my behavior. No one was ever interested before. Not until—” I stopped myself before I could say his name. But Bianca was not stupid. We came to the end of the corridor and were met with the stars. It was a promenade with windows all along one side so we could see out into space. Now I could not escape the knowing quirk of her lips.

“Until Hugo,” she completed my statement for me. Then she grabbed my arm again and pulled me back into formation. We began to stroll, the stars to our left side. “I was seethingly jealous of you, you know. I didn’t get it at all. You’re not as plain as you think, Stella; you’re honestly quite pretty, but that wasn’t it. I mean, you’re a governess.” Her tone dripped derisively, like always. “But I realized that that wasn’t the point. Your status was irrelevant, and apparently mine was too. Hugo likes bold, and your flavor of it far more than mine. Give yourself more credit.”

I was left speechless, unsure if I was being paid a compliment or an insult. Bianca didn’t wait for my response anyhow.

“You know, if I’m honest, it all worked out for the better. I’m happy here. I’m no longer being trotted around the fleet like I’m some prize cow. It doesn’t really matter who I marry at this point. It’s nice.”

“Did you love Hugo?” I dared to ask. She seemed to think about it a minute.

“Like a brother, I think,” she finally said. “Though I like him more than I like Braxton, so there’s that. I would have been happy married to him. But not as a consolation prize, so ultimately he made the right choice. I’m just surprised that you gave him up.”

Ah, now we were getting to it. Bianca was fishing for gossip. I halted our stroll, wresting my arm from hers so I could face her. I needed to be able to read her expression, determine whether she meant to manipulate me. But I found her inquisitive eyes free of scheming, and I’d played enough poker with her to call her bluff. She wanted to know why I’d left him.

“At the time, I thought I had to,” I said.

Bianca’s expression darkened. She could hardly have missed the news. “I’m worried about him,” she said. “He didn’t come here with the rest of the crew, and no one will tell me where he’s gone.”

“That’s why I came here,” I admitted. “To find him.”

“And did you?”

“No,” I said. “He deorbited. By himself.”

“That stupid idiot,” Bianca said, leaning against one of the windows, suddenly weary. “He was always prone to dramatics.” She let out a sigh. “So, what are we going to do?”

“We?”

“Yes, I imagine you have some sort of plan brewing, and I’m not going to sit idly by while my oldest friend dies. He saved my family. I owe him.” Bianca obviously meant business. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at me, clearly awaiting a full appraisal of my plans.

“Well, if I can find out where he landed, the plan is to go after him. The Stalwart is already planning a mission, but we don’t have a ship.”

She grabbed hold of my arm, this time to drag me back in the direction we’d come. “You can take the Ingram. She’s just sitting in storage, of no use to anyone.”

“No offense intended, but wasn’t the whole point of your marrying Hugo that your ship was no longer in good working condition?”

“She had her issues, but should manage reentry perfectly well.” We’d entered the narrow corridor again, her nonchalance echoing behind her, as if to reinforce her resolve. “I’ll settle it with Father tonight, and you can take her in the morning. I’m assuming you have a pilot?”

I had Sergei, but no idea if he’d agree to pilot someone else’s ship away from the Lady Liberty. Down to Earth. I’d figure it out later.

“Hey, Bianca, wait.” We stopped outside the door to her quarters. I wanted to say something before we went inside and everything exploded in a flurry. “Thank you. You’re unexpectedly . . . I don’t know.”

“Do go on,” she said, eyebrow artfully quirked. “I have a feeling you might be heading toward a compliment.”

“Just, thank you.” I pulled her into a hug, a genuinely felt one this time. “You’re more decent than I thought.” She snorted into my hair, and we both laughed.


We had a ship, someone to pilot it back to the Stalwart (Xiao could be persuasive; Sergei stood no chance otherwise); we needed only Orion to come through with the coordinates for the Rochester. It was late in the night, my time allowed aboard the Lady Liberty rapidly counting down. Jon dozed on the couch, oblivious. Well, at least for the moment. I’d bent his ear for hours, obsessing over the possibilities of the day’s outcomes, plans for our next steps, and on and on, before he gave up and drifted off. I couldn’t sleep; I paced restlessly in the living room, waiting for Orion to come back with good news.

I checked the time. One in the morning. Ticktock.

At some point, against my better wishes, I fell asleep. I awoke to a pinging in my ears; one hour to our deadline. I shook Jon awake, even as he pawed at his ears to turn off the alarm.

“Jon, wake up,” I ordered.

“Did he find it?” he mumbled, sitting up, rubbing at his eyes.