Page 60 of Star Claimed Omega
Soleil tilted her head, intrigued despite herself.
Miral continued. ‘However, underneath his laconic exterior, Santi is a kind and most generous man, so consider yourself lucky that he esteems you so much, and is giving you the royal queen treatment.’
Soleil’s breath hitched.Queen?
The word thundered through her skull like a curse. Her stomach clenched, her throat tightened. Her fingers began to shake.
She jerked upright, muttering, ‘I see.’
Miral narrowed her eyes, then smiled.
But not before Soleil caught a flash of suspicion in the synth AI’s gaze.
Damn.
‘I’ll leave you to it then,’ Miral intoned, rising to her feet. ‘You must want to rest.’
‘Naam, please.’
The Signet scuttlebutt waved and glimmered away.
With an inhale, Soleil hurried back inside the guest suite and into the bathroom, locking the door with trembling hands.
She braced herself on the counter and stared at her reflection.
Don’t fokkin’ attract more attention, stay hidden and unseen,her old self warned.
Yet deeper still, another, more hopeful soul voice whispered.
Arise, for you’re not the shackled queen your enemies make you to be, but the free spirit you’ve always prayed to be.
10
Chapter 10
SANTIAGO
The bridge ofLa Última Sombrawas Santi’s cathedral.
Soft-lit and expansive, it wrapped around the front quarter of the ship like a glass jaw.
Its interior was lined with streamlined consoles, gunmetal finishes, and plush captain’s chairs designed more for command than comfort.
Above, the reinforced plexiglass canopy displayed the stars like drifting pearls in a velvet sky.
The hum of the nav-drives thrummed underfoot, and somewhere, deeper in the ship’s bowels, the pulse of the reactor beat like a second heart.
At this hour, the bridge crew was steady but loose, ensconced in a quiet alertness, the kind forged in men too familiar with war to ever relax.
Still, they bantered in between their duties, throwing insults and friendly fire around the space.
Rigo sat at the tactical console, boots crossed, his posture deceptively idle as he calibrated weapon yields in the background.
Kaal cleaned his rifle with the same precision a surgeon used on an organ, sliding a fine tool through the barrel, his gaze distant.
Boaz and Zev circled the nav charts, arguing in clipped tones over the best vector through the Wildlight’s Akari Nebula’s erratic ridge zones.
An argument less about the flight path and more about pride.
