Page 3 of Queen Isabella

His words were like a slap in the face. Her father was seriously disowning her. There were only two places for outcasts, workhouses and institutions for the mentally unstable.

“But it was an antique weapon that we dug up today,” she stammered, hoping he’d see reason.

“You’re a jezebel!” Saul shouted at the viewscreen.

This wasn’t the first time he’d called her that. He’d cursed her ever since she was fourteen and got caught kissing a boy at a secret after-school party. It was the same party he was at, but the rules were different for men and women. Like when Saul’s friend drunkenly stumbled into her bedroom after one of their raucous outings. At first, she thought Caleb wanted her bed, but then he took his clothes off. She should have fought off the smarmy bastard, except that would’ve awoken everyone in the house. Caleb would’ve accused her of luring him in, and her family would’ve believed him, after all, she was the jezebel who kissed a boy years earlier. There were really only two outcomes; her father would’ve forced them to get married, or had her institutionalized. Those prospects were actually far more traumatizing than Caleb’s pathetic performance. Thewhole incident cemented her resolve to swear off men, and her career proved to be far more satisfying.

“Enough,” her father snapped at Saul, then refocused on her. “Not only do you refuse to live a humble life, you are worldly, and sinful. You winding up in this mess was bound to happen. No more!” Her father bitterly shook his head and flicked off the viewscreen.

Isa started to hyperventilate as her world fell completely apart.

Isa didn’t have to worry about living in a workhouse or an institution, though. Her trial was a sham. The public defender didn’t bother to call her museum or Harvey to testify, and she was swiftly convicted of possessing a deadly weapon. Three short weeks later, she was conscripted for the voyage to Tellus and found herself standing on the tarmac outside of the Manifest. She was one of those convicts she’d heard about on the news.

“I’m Audre. What do you do?” the dark-skinned woman in front of her asked.

Isa turned her gaze away from the long, winding line of women heading into the spaceship. She swallowed the lump of fear that had been permanently lodged in her throat and focused on Audre.

“Isa, Isabella actually. Archaeologist,” she replied, keeping it short and sweet, certain that she’d be sick at any moment.

This was it, her last moments on Earth. Bile rose in her throat yet again.

“Hmpf, a specialist in early civilizations, interesting.” Audre carefully surveyed the crowd of fellow voyagers—fellow convicts.

The comment and the way Audre’s intelligent eyes sparked had Isa forgetting some of her panic. Up until now she’d been too freaked out about this crazy turn of events, telling anyoneand everyone that this had to be a mistake. But Audre seemed to know something.

“What about you?” Isa inquired, now that her curiosity was piqued.

“I’m a surgeon, surgical nurse,” Audre clarified, even though it wasn’t necessary since everyone listening was female and understood.

Women couldn’t be surgeons, or doctors, or hundreds of other job titles. They could do all the work, just not possess the title. Officially Isa was a dig assistant.

“That’s Elizabeth, a farmer,” Audre added, gesturing to the blonde in front of her.

Elizabeth, looking as scared as a bunny caught by a pack of dogs, nodded to her. Isa smiled back, feeling a swell of sympathy for the tiny woman. Elizabeth was even more afraid than she was.

“What about you?” Audre asked the woman behind Isa.

“What about me?!” The tan-skinned woman scowled.

“What’s your name and what do you do?” Isa quickly provided.

“Reina. Software engineer,” the woman curtly replied, clearly trying to hold it together, though it was hard to tell if the woman was going to cuss or cry.

“Why am I not surprised,” Audre snorted.

Isa was waiting for Audre to elaborate when they were interrupted.

“Shut your holes, breeders. Get moving!” the guard monitoring the line barked, aggressively gesturing with his weapon.

The disgusting slur used for women always made her cringe.

“Asshole,” Audre muttered as she turned and shuffled forward in the line.

Isa couldn’t agree more. Her gaze narrowed on the bastard but she also complied. It’s not like she was going to run for it. Even if she broke out of line, the landing strip was surrounded by even more armed guards. Security was so strict there weren’t even media drones flying overhead to commemorate the momentous voyage.

‘Cause it’s suspicious as hell. Her eyes narrowed as she took another look around.

Isa waited until they were farther ahead before opening her mouth again.

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