Page 2 of The First Spark
In the broadcast that had replaced hers, the Prime Minister of the Federation lounged in a high-backed armchair, as if he had not a care in the stars.
She couldn’t wait to see Carik’s smug look disappear when Marcus became Prime Minister.
“Pool needs someone to deliver a final speech to the Senate, and who does he choose? An Etovian brat who’s never accomplished anything in her life?”
Kalie’s nostrils flared. The reminder cut deep—that she wasn’t fully Dalian, that her father was a Dalian ally who most considered an enemy.
Mother above, shehatedZed Carik.
The reporter sitting across from Carik, one of his sycophantic minions, frowned. “Prime Minister, that may be too harsh?—”
“Too harsh?” Carik laughed. “Need I regale you once again with Princess Kalista’s long list of accomplishments?”
Her fists flexed. He didn’t even bother to use her proper title—it wasPrincessain Dali’s ancient language, a title that reminded her people of her descent from the gods.
Or it had, anyway, before the Federation’s mandates had forced everyone to use their official language, Galstan.
“She passed up her chance to govern a Dalian county. She dropped out of boarding school after half a semester. She resigned from her post as ambassador to her father’s empire before it even began, and let’s not forget the Ryker scandal?—”
“Damn you,” Kalie hissed. Hehad some nerve.
A tiny voice in her head, one that sounded like Mother, whispered that he had a point.
Her fingers clenched around the stem of her glass. Carik would fall soon enough. When he did, they would see. They’d all see, everyone who’d ever doubted her. Her parents, her standoffish brother and brat of a sister, the nobles who gossiped behind her back, the news outlets who said she was a flighty, brainless heiress, good for nothing but screwing things up.
“You sound confident you’ll win reelection, Your Excellency.”
“Why shouldn’t I be?” Carikflashed his pearly white grin, the one that had the socialites in Sector One fawning over him. “I’ve served our Federation for twenty-five cycles now, and my Senate will make the right decision. They always do.”
A warning.
The door slammed open, and Kalie shot to her feet, banging her shin against the kaf table. As she fumbled for the sidearm holstered at her waist, her glass toppled. Rivers of carmine wine gushed across the mahogany surface. Her heart pounded. The guards—she hadn’t heard any blasts—they were supposed to?—
Her breath rushed out of her as Ariah strode into the room, draped in a silk gown. Attendants carted in bulging suitcases.
Staring at the mirror image of herself—or, at least, the mirror image of her real self, without the wig and contacts—Kalie snapped off a salute.
“Princessa Kalista.”
Flicking her golden plait over her shoulder, Ariah winked. “At ease, Guardsman Rivers.”
Kalie lowered her hand and smiled. Ariah was more than a body double, not quite a clone. Somewhere in between—her genetic twin,modified before birth to mirror her, her sister by blood and bond. Not that anyone knew.
She’d become invisible again. All attention was on the woman masquerading as the Dalian Princessa. She and Ariah had mastered the art of looking similar but distinct, and as the attendants turned to the luggage, they paid no attention to her, the personal guard with brown hair and green contacts. Some illegitimate cousin to the Dalian royal family, according to Ariah’s official identification—the identification Kalie now wore.
Ariah sauntered across the room, dropping her diamond tiara on an end table. Kalie opened her mouth to chide her, but Ariah beat her to it.
“Wine on duty? Last I checked, I don’t pay my guards to paint and watch the news.”
Kalie narrowed her eyes. Her gemod double smirked and raised an eyebrow.
She had way too much fun with this.
On the holoscreen, Carik was repeating all the horrible, elitist policies that made the vainest counts on Dali look enlightened. With every vile word that slipped from his mouth, the tension in her muscles coiled tighter.
The projection fizzled out, and Kalie whirled around.
“You’re going to stress yourself out.Relax.” Lowering the remote, Ariah dropped onto a futon. “I have to call my aunt. Her Majesty’s expecting a report on the summit, and we’ll lose connection at the gate. Ari, see the attendants out, would you?”
