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    The Handmaid's Secret: Starstruck, #7
    The Handmaid's Secret: Starstruck, #7
    The Handmaid's Secret: Starstruck, #7
    Ebook451 pages7 hours

    The Handmaid's Secret: Starstruck, #7

    By Brenda Hiatt

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    A Martian misfit…

     

    Molly O'Gara has never really fit in anywhere, born on Mars to Ag farmer parents but adopted and raised by a high-ranking Royal family. Unfortunately Molly lacks the usual skill with plants that go with her birth heritage, while also lacking the prestige she would have as a true Royal. Her only claim to importance is being appointed official Handmaid to the Martian Sovereign, Emileia. Holding such a position is a great honor for a lowly Ag but now that she and Emileia, better known as M, are back on Earth, there is little for Molly to do in that capacity. That is, until a new Royal boy shows up at Jewel High. Though absurdly handsome, Tristan is also arrogant and obnoxious—and seems determined to steal M, the Sovereign, away from her bonded soulmate, Rigel. As Handmaid, Molly's job now is to keep Tristan away from M and Rigel, even if that means spending way more time in his company than she'd like. Such familiarity breeds contempt, on both sides. At first, anyway…

     

    The much-anticipated continuation of the electrifying Starstruck series, where teen romance blends with science fiction to open a whole new world of action, adventure and discovery!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDolphin Star Press
    Release dateJan 24, 2019
    ISBN9781940618913
    The Handmaid's Secret: Starstruck, #7
    Author

    Brenda Hiatt

    Brenda Hiatt is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than two dozen novels (so far), including historical romance, traditional Regency romance, time travel romance, and young adult science fiction romance. In addition to writing, Brenda is passionate about embracing life to the fullest, to include scuba diving (she has over 60 dives to her credit), Taekwondo (where she is currently pursuing her 4th degree black belt), hiking, traveling...and reading, of course!

    Read more from Brenda Hiatt

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    • 5/5
      Great story. It just keeps getting more and more interesting. This would make a great tv series

    Book preview

    The Handmaid's Secret - Brenda Hiatt

    1

    Equilibrium

    Molly

    Molly, are you ready to try that new move we talked about yesterday? Trina, our head cheerleader asks as we finish our pre-practice warmup on the track by the football field.

    Sure. I step between the two girls who act as my bases for most of the flyer routines. I have it looking pretty good on the ground, anyway. Where’s Amber? She’s usually my back spotter.

    Trina looks around, frowning. This is the second time this month she’s been late. If she doesn’t— Oh, here she comes.

    Amber trots up, all smiles. "Sorry I’m late, but I come bearing gossip. Believe it or not, we’re getting another new student tomorrow!"

    All the girls start talking excitedly.

    Seriously?

    That will make nine in one semester!

    Just three weeks ago we got eight new students all at once. That would have been a huge deal for a school as small as Jewel High even if they weren’t all from Mars. Not that any of the other cheerleaders know that particular detail.

    Boy or girl? Trina demands, cutting through the chatter.

    Boy. Amber waggles her eyebrows. "Sounds like his parents will be working out at NuAgra, too."

    NuAgra is the new company on the outskirts of Jewel supposedly responsible for the recent influx of newcomers to town. Along with its stated purpose of conducting top-secret agricultural research, it’s also supposed to become a sort of government headquarters for Martians on Earth.

    Hm. I wonder if he’ll be as good looking as the other new guys? Trina’s eyes narrow speculatively.

    I suspect he will, since Echtrans in general tend to be unusually attractive by Earth standards.

    Did you hear what year he’ll be? she asks then.

    Amber nods. A junior, I peeked at his paperwork. His name’s Tristan. Tristan Roark.

    Ooh, yummy name, Donna declares, to general agreement.

    Tomorrow we’ll see if he lives up to it, Trina says, but then she’s all business again. Okay, time to get serious, girls. It’s barely two weeks till our first playoff game and Jewel’s bound to go to State this year. We need to be in top form by then. Molly, you ready to fly?

    I am. We start our latest choreographed routine with its synchronized dance steps and kicks, then Donna and Tiffany, my base girls, hoist me up by both legs to their chin level. I wait a beat, lift one knee into my basic Liberty pose, wait three more beats, then transition into an Arabesque, extending my raised leg straight behind me as I lean forward slightly and spread my arms out to the sides.

    I’m about to shift from that to the Needle, the new move, when Donna changes her grip slightly.

    Ooh, she exclaims, looking back at Amber. You said this new guy’s a junior. Did you hear what classes he’ll be in?

    I wobble for a second, but then I feel pretty solid again. Tipping further forward, I point my back leg straight up until I’m doing a vertical split—the Needle. I hold that pose for a beat, just like I rehearsed in the gym, then take two beats to return to my prep position so I can do my pop-cradle dismount.

    I did! Amber replies from behind me. I even jotted his classes down, so I’d remember. Remind me after and I’ll—

    Quiet! Trina yells. Do the finish first.

    My bases pop me up for the cradle dismount but Donna and Amber, both distracted, are out of position to catch me properly. I hear everyone screaming as I pitch backward and see the asphalt track hurtling toward my face.

    In desperation, I tuck into a last-second reverse somersault and miraculously manage to land on my feet, well behind everyone else. I’m still marveling at my close call when I belatedly realize no normal Earth human could ever have pulled off that maneuver. It was purely my Martian reflexes that saved me from a cracked skull.

    Omigod Molly! Amber shrieks. I’m so sorry! How did you—?

    Trina shoulders her aside. That was amazing, Molly! You should always dismount like that.

    The others are still staring at me with expressions of shock mingled with relief. I force a laugh.

    "Um, no thanks, Trina. That was way more up-close than I ever want to see the pavement again. I’m just glad I remembered that gymnastics move from when I used to compete back in Ireland. I only ever managed it twice before, and that was with nice thick mats under me."

    Not true, of course. I never actually competed in gymnastics, though I took a few classes as a kid. But claiming that keeps the other cheerleaders from freaking out over my superhuman flip, which is all I care about. I’m just glad there were no other Echtrans around to see me do it, or I’d be in big trouble.

    On that thought I glance up at the bleachers to see M there, staring right at me…and looking more than a little upset. Oops.

    With a sheepish grin, I wave at her. To my relief, she smiles back as she returns my wave. I hope that means she’s not too mad at me. Because in addition to being my best friend, M also happens to be our people’s supreme leader, Sovereign Emileia.

    From beside me, Trina makes a disgusted noise.

    "Do you have to, Molly? It reflects badly on the whole squad when you insist on hanging around with a loser like Marsha Truitt. If you weren’t such a good flyer, I’d be tempted— Never mind. Let’s practice that routine again. And Amber, try to focus this time, okay? Injuries reflect badly, too."

    I want to tell Trina—again—that M is the exact opposite of a loser, but I know it won’t do any good. She’s apparently been determined to hate M since they were both in elementary school. So I just shoot another quick smile M’s way and get back into position.

    At the end of practice, when the rest of the squad heads to the locker room, I sprint up into the bleachers to talk to M.

    Guess you saw that, huh? I brace myself for a well-deserved scold, even though I can’t remember her ever yelling at me before.

    Yes, I saw! What happened? I was scared to death you were going to break your neck.

    "The girls were gossiping about this new guy instead of paying attention to my dismount. I think they all bought my excuse that it was something I learned in gymnastics, but it was dumb to panic and pull such a crazy stunt in front of everyone. Are you mad?"

    She looks startled. Mad that you didn’t break your neck? Are you kidding me? Anyway, it sounds like you came up with a good cover story. You always do. I’m just relieved you’re okay.

    Her concern warms me. "Thanks, M. So, about this new guy who almost got me killed. Sounds like it’ll be another Echtran—Tristan Roark?"

    Roark? she repeats. Connor has a son? I didn’t even know he was married.

    Connor’s last name is Roark? I wince. Connor is easily my least favorite member of the Echtran Council, which meets at my house most weekends. Did you know he was moving to Jewel?

    She lifts a shoulder. Sure, eventually, because of the new government center at NuAgra, but not this soon. It’s weird he didn’t say anything about it last Saturday. I wonder what his son is like?

    Snooty and arrogant, just like his dad, I predict.

    M laughs. Come on, you don’t know that. Maybe he’ll be nice, like the rest of the newcomers.

    None of them are Royals. You watch, this guy will look down on me for being a lowly Ag the way Connor always does. Like father, like son.

    Well, he’d better not do it in front of me or I’ll— Oh, there’s Rigel.

    I turn and see Jewel’s quarterback—M’s boyfriend—jogging toward us.

    See you later, M. I’d better scurry if I want to catch my ride. With a smile for Rigel, I trot off to the locker room.

    I doubt Amber will really leave without me after her screwup earlier, but I know M and Rigel like to have a few minutes together before taking their separate late buses. Even if playing chaperone is technically one of my duties.

    It was a huge honor to be appointed M’s official Chomseireach, or Handmaid, before we went to Mars last spring. While we were there I selected all her outfits, chaperoned her when necessary and kept presumptuous favor-seekers from getting too close. Sure, she had a Bodyguard, but I was always her last line of defense—and did a great job, according to M.

    Since getting back to Earth, not so much. For obvious reasons, she doesn’t want me tagging along whenever she and Rigel are together, and it’s not practical for me to pick out what she’ll wear to school every day. As for being a last line of defense—hah! I didn’t even hear about last month’s attempt on her life until the day after it happened, because I was at some stupid cheerleading party.

    I need to seriously up my game…if M will let me.

    Like father, like son. My words to M yesterday echo in my head when the new boy waltzes into Pre-Cal the next morning like he owns the place. His Adonis-like profile is remarkably like Connor’s, his deep gold hair only a shade darker. In other words, outrageously handsome, same as his dad—and probably just as stuck up.

    Sauntering up to the teacher, he hands her a slip from the office and turns to survey the classroom, his gaze lingering on M. Then, with a confident smile, he ambles over to the empty desk closest to her—which happens to be on my other side. Before sitting down he pauses, one proprietary hand on my desk, and inclines his head to M. Not a bow, which would be too obvious, but respectful.

    Hi, I’m Tristan, he says, looking right past me, and you must be…Marsha? It’s like the people sitting around her, even those of us who are obviously Echtran, don’t exist.

    Hello, Tristan. M’s voice is a tiny shade cooler than normal. Welcome to Jewel.

    Thank you. I very much look forward to getting to know you better. There’s something distinctly suggestive in his low, smooth voice that puts me on high alert.

    Rigel, on M’s other side, leans over to see past M and me. We’ll look forward to that, too. We all will. His glance includes me and Liam, another Echtran, sitting just in front of me.

    Tristan’s dark brown eyes slide over us negligently, then refocus on M as if Rigel hadn’t spoken.

    Maybe you and I can get together after school to, you know, talk.

    By now every girl in the room is staring at him with blatant interest, though as over-the-top handsome as he is, I’m sure he’s used to that. I get the distinct impression he’s disappointed M isn’t reacting the same way. He finally sits down when class starts but continues to direct intense, almost smoldering glances at M every time the teacher isn’t looking. If M notices she doesn’t let on, though Rigel occasionally glares back.

    When the bell rings, Tristan quickly stands, then sidles forward in an attempt to wedge himself between M and Rigel as they move toward the door. Finally, a chance for me to do my job!

    Stepping in close, I cut Tristan off just before he reaches them. Hey, Tristan. I stick out my hand despite my reluctance to touch him. I’m Molly.

    He totally ignores my hand, still watching M. O’Gara, right? He sounds bored.

    That’s right. Sean’s sister. Have you met him yet? My only goal is to keep him occupied until M and Rigel are out of the room where it will be easier to avoid him. Creeper.

    Not yet. Why? He’s renounced his claim there, hasn’t he?

    His smirk when referring to my brother makes me bristle. Because that was definitely a smirk.

    Yes, and for good reason. So there’s no point you trying to stake one, if that’s what you’re planning.

    Whether it’s my words or the acid in my tone, he finally looks at me. No point? What makes you think so?

    The fact that I know a lot more about them both than you do. Trust me, you’d be wasting your time.

    M and Rigel reach the door and a moment later they’re gone. He isn’t watching them now, though. Instead he looks down his perfect, aquiline nose at me, still with that slight curl to his lip. "Of course you’d think that. You’re Sean’s sister."

    That has nothing to do with it, I assure him. I just happen to know—

    I break off, suddenly aware of several interested pairs of eyes, most belonging to girls. At least half a dozen of them have moved in close, obviously hoping to introduce themselves to Tristan before he leaves the room. With a tiny smirk of my own, I step back to let them converge.

    Have a nice day, I toss over my shoulder as I walk off to French class.

    Unfortunately, Tristan shows up there, too. Rigel’s not in this class, which Tristan takes advantage of by trying to chat M up before the bell. I’m ready to run interference again if necessary but she shuts him down just fine on her own.

    You’re Connor’s son, right? she asks when he stops at her desk to suggest getting together that evening.

    He frowns. Um, yeah. Why?

    You look a lot like him. And I get the impression you share his opinion of my relationship with Rigel. Am I right?

    Blinking, he flushes noticeably. Clearly, he didn’t expect such a direct question—or that she’d see through him so easily. Idiot.

    Hey, I don’t even know him, he responds after only a slight hesitation. For all I know, he’s a great guy. Really good at football, from what I hear. I’m just trying to be friendly. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?

    That depends on your reasons. She turns a shoulder to him to face me. I forget, Molly, which set of vocabulary words were we supposed to go over last night?

    When Tristan turns up in Chemistry third period, I begin to suspect he signed up for every one of M’s classes. At least Rigel’s in this one, though the lab table he shares with Trina is on the opposite side of the room from M’s and mine. He obviously took Tristan’s measure as quickly as I did, judging by the way he watches him.

    Everyone welcome Tristan, who’s with us for the first time today, the teacher—also an Echtran—announces after signing him in. Since we’re starting a new module tomorrow, I’d already planned to have you select new lab partners. With Tristan here our numbers are even, so nobody will need to triple up this time around.

    He nods to two girls and a boy near the back who’ve been sharing a lab table since the start of the year. Both girls immediately look hopeful.

    Since Tristan’s new, it would probably be best if someone very familiar with the material partners with him. Beyond that, I can either assign you alphabetically— There’s a collective groan. —or let you choose your own partners, as you did at the start of the year. Try to pair up with someone new but don’t waste too much time. You have ten minutes, after which I’ll start assigning partners. Go.

    With a hasty scraping of chairs, every single girl heads for Tristan. Even though she was all the way across the room, Trina reaches him first, elbowing the others out of her way.

    Hi, Tristan. She gives him the brilliant smile that tends to make guys go nonverbal around her. "I’d love the chance to show you everything we’ve covered so far." Among other things, her tone implies.

    Though he manages a bland smile in return, he barely glances at her before turning a charm-infused smile on M. I was hoping maybe Marsha here might be my partner? I’ll bet you’re one of the best students in the class, aren’t you?

    Not really. She looks more amused than flattered. Molly here is better at Chemistry than I am. Anyway, I have a different partner in mind. She looks past Tristan’s shoulder at Rigel, shouldering his way through the gaggle of girls still vying for Tristan’s attention.

    She’s right, Rigel says, joining us. I’m pretty sure Molly has the best grade in the class now. Right, Molly?

    Though I’d far rather leave him to Trina’s tender mercies, I’m forced to nod. My grades are better than M’s or Rigel’s, though that’s only because they’ve had way more important stuff to deal with this semester. Like saving the world.

    Er, yeah, I think so. I guess I can help you catch up, unless you’d rather— I look pointedly at Trina. She isn’t a great student, but those two definitely deserve each other.

    Tristan doesn’t even glance at her—or at me. He’s still completely focused on M, like he’s trying to use that push thing some Royals have. Rigel moves to M’s side and faces him, a faint challenge in his eyes. There’s a tense silence for a moment before Tristan finally turns to me.

    Sure, Molly, that would be great. Thanks. He sounds anything but grateful.

    With a huff of disgust and a poisonous glare at M, Trina moves off. So, gradually, do the others, not wanting to risk being randomly assigned. Meanwhile, Rigel joins M at our old lab table and Tristan and I move to an empty one two rows back.

    You’re her Handmaid, aren’t you? he mutters, sitting down next to me. Maybe you can tell me what I’m doing wrong.

    I stare at him incredulously. You mean other than being an arrogant jerk? Even if you weren’t being totally obvious about what you’re trying to do, M is nearly impossible to fool and totally in love with Rigel. Give it up.

    He looks startled for a second, then the smirk is back. After only a couple of hours? Not a chance. But…I guess I can be more subtle.

    Yeah, good luck with that. I turn away with a snort and open my lab binder.

    Tristan watches me while I flip pages looking for the next module on the schedule. When he finally speaks again, I can tell he’s working hard to suppress his instinctive disdain for everyone but M.

    Look, Molly, I can see I got off on the wrong foot with you, too. I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t believe everything my father says, especially about—

    No, I snap. You shouldn’t. He’s convinced M is too young for her role and he’s as opposed to her relationship with Rigel as my Mum is. Whatever your father has told you about her, or them as a couple, I guarantee he spun it in the worst possible direction.

    Tristan directs a smile at me that would likely make most girls turn into a puddle of goo. Even irked with him as I am, I can’t completely ignore its effect. Probably some special Royal ability of his, like Mum’s lie-detecting talent.

    You’re probably right. He looks me directly in the eyes, turning on the full power of what he no doubt intends to be an irresistible charm assault. In that case, I should find out what our Sovereign is really like, don’t you think? Surely there’s no one better than you, Molly, to tell me that.

    Instead of melting on the spot, as he clearly expects, I laugh in his face. "I’m sure whatever you’re doing works on most girls, but you can’t seriously think I’ll help you steal M away from Rigel? Even if it were remotely possible."

    He blinks, then frowns. I didn’t ask you to. But…don’t you think I should have a more accurate picture of her than the one my father has painted?

    I still don’t trust his motives an inch, but I guess it can’t hurt to disabuse him of whatever misinformation his father has fed him. Fine. What do you want to know?

    The chaos in the room is starting to die down now that most people are paired up so he lowers his voice. Is it true she has a habit of putting this non-Royal boyfriend of hers ahead of her duties to our people?

    No. Not at all. M’s done more for our people, for everyone on this planet, than anyone, risking Rigel’s life along with her own in the process.

    "But she has shared classified information with him, hasn’t she? Even after promising the Council she wouldn’t?"

    This is stickier ground, since there were extenuating circumstances that aren’t public—not even Echtran-public—knowledge.

    Only when she had no choice. Which is true, though I don’t elaborate. And it turned out to be a good thing she did. Also true.

    If you say so. He doesn’t look convinced but the room is quiet enough now we can’t keep talking, especially about Martian stuff.

    I’m relieved Tristan isn’t in my Creative Writing class next period…until M tells me at lunch that he was in her Comp/Lit class instead.

    Wow, stalker much? I glance back. He’s several people behind us in the cafeteria line, surrounded by flirting cheerleaders.

    You’re getting that impression, too? Luckily I had not only Rigel, but Trina there. She did everything she could to keep him away from me.

    We both laugh.

    Hey, if she can convince him to be her lab partner instead of mine in Chemistry, I sure won’t argue.

    M nods sympathetically. Yeah, sorry about that. I kind of threw you under the bus there, didn’t I?

    No, it’s fine. I hardly do anything to justify my, er, role lately but this falls smack under my job description.

    I guess it does, she agrees. But it’s not true you’re not doing anything else. I depend on you way more than you think, even if it’s not for all the, um, traditional reasons.

    She’s probably just saying that to make me feel better but I still appreciate it. M is always thoughtful that way, one reason she’s such a great friend—and a dabhal good Sovereign, no matter what anyone says.

    I groan aloud when I see Tristan heading toward our lunch table a few minutes later. He slows when he gets close, scanning for a seat. Rigel is sitting next to M, of course, and I’m on her other side, with Sean and Kira next to me. In fact, I’m pleased to see there are only two empty chairs at the whole table, none close to M.

    Move along, move along, I mutter under my breath.

    But then M’s friend Bri spots him and immediately motions him over.

    Hi, Tristan, remember me? My friend Deb here introduced us after your Pre-Cal class first period. Are you looking for a place to sit? She nudges Deb, who nudges the boy next to her. They both scoot down, opening up a seat practically across from M. Gah!

    But now Tristan seems to be on his best behavior. Hm, maybe my comments in Chemistry actually had an effect?

    Are you sure you don’t mind me joining you? he asks the group in general. Then, turning to Kira and Sean, Hi, I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Tristan.

    He must know who they are, but they introduce themselves and welcome him to Jewel. I doubt Sean would be so friendly if he’d seen the way Tristan was coming on to M earlier. Or maybe he would. Since getting together with Kira, he finally seems completely over M, for which I’m truly grateful. I hated seeing him suffer. And things are massively less awkward these days when we all get together.

    We can’t talk about Martian stuff with so many non-Echtrans at the table, but luckily I’m not the only one with questions about Tristan. One is answered early on when Deb asks him if his family moved here because of NuAgra, like the other new kids.

    Yeah, my father was coming to Jewel for so many meetings, it made sense to relocate him.

    Bri leans in next. Where did you move from?

    Denver. The suburbs, anyway. I mostly grew up there.

    She and Deb proceed to pepper him with questions about how he likes Jewel so far, and how it compares to Denver.

    It’s a lot flatter, that’s for sure, he says, getting a general laugh.

    And a lot smaller, Deb says longingly. I’d love to visit Denver someday. I hear the mountains are beautiful.

    That topic takes up the rest of the lunch period and I’m grudgingly impressed by how easily Tristan carries it off, never giving even the slightest hint he’s anything more than a normal, if outrageously handsome, Duchas.

    I’m not the least bit surprised when Tristan accompanies us to U.S. Government after lunch. Maybe it was his dad who signed him up for all of M’s classes? I can’t imagine the ladies in the front office denying Connor anything if he turned on the charm. Though he’s never wasted it on me, it’s probably even more potent than the taste I had of Tristan’s.

    Like Chemistry class, this one has a high concentration of Echtrans—me, M, Rigel, Sean, Kira, and Alan Dempsey, another newcomer. And now Tristan. At least the teacher is Duchas.

    Everyone, please welcome Tristan, she says, smiling at him a little more warmly than strictly necessary. I remember her doing the same to Alan his first day—another particularly handsome Echtran.

    Alan catches me looking his direction and smiles. I smile back. Though Alan’s an Ag like me, I don’t know him very well yet. Maybe it’s time to change that?

    Since M isn’t in my AP Psych class, I’m surprised to see Tristan there next period. I guess even Connor’s charm couldn’t get his son into a one-semester Econ class this late in the year?

    He snags the desk next to mine and proceeds to pump me for more info about M every chance he gets, using the almost-sub-vocal whisper only other Martians can hear.

    That cheerleader, Trina, tells me Marsha and Rigel broke up more than once last year. What was up with that?

    I wasn’t here the first time, but M told me they faked it to throw off Faxon’s assassins. The other time was fake, too, and only because of a deal she made with the Council to save Rigel’s life—or didn’t your dad tell you that part? I whisper back without moving my lips, keeping my eyes on the teacher.

    He told me that deal was her idea.

    I huff out an exasperated breath, drawing a glance from the boy on my other side.

    Of course it was her idea, I quietly reply after a moment. "It was to save Rigel’s life. She knew it was the only way they’d agree to let him come back here."

    But—

    The teacher looks our way and he breaks off. I use the opportunity to turn half away from him and he seems to take the hint, saving whatever other questions he has for later. Hopefully much later.

    2

    Malleability

    Tristan

    When the bell rings at the end of sixth period, I’m tempted to leave without another word to Molly O’Gara, who’s been more hindrance than help so far. I have to force myself to be polite when I say goodbye.

    Not that she returns the favor.

    Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, she says with her distinctive Irish lilt, stronger than the average Nuathan accent. Unfortunately.

    Her addendum nearly makes me snap back, but I restrain myself. It’s too soon to alienate her completely, since she seems closer to the Sovereign than anyone. Except for Rigel Stuart—not that I believe in that graell bond mind-reading thing they supposedly have any more than my father does.

    Thinking about Father makes the space between my shoulder blades itch. He’s not going to be happy with how little I’ve accomplished today when I give him my update—which will be all too soon.

    I head to the front office to sign myself out and find four other Echtrans already there, all recent immigrants from Mars. Like me, they’re going out to NuAgra for our seventh period work-study program.

    Hey, Tristan, one of the Walsh twins—Liam, I think—greets me. Our dad said you might be joining us today. Do you know yet what you’ll be doing at NuAgra?

    Whatever my father put down on the form, I reply since we’re still within earshot of the woman at the front desk. Guess I’ll find out when I get there.

    I suppose the others are doing actual work out there, growing plants or building stuff or whatever their fines are suited for. Me, I’m just going out there to report to my father. Which I could do just as well at home, but he claims pretending to be like the other NuAgra kids is less likely to make the Duchas suspicious. Whatever.

    Liam nods and turns back to the others and I realize my tone was probably off-putting. Again. I’ll have to work on that if I want to fit in here. Not that I do, particularly, except as a way to ingratiate myself with the Sovereign.

    The only girl in our group is Kira Morain, who I met at lunch. She’s kind of famous, or was. I used to hear her name on the delayed-broadcast caidpel feeds from Nuath. Not that I follow the sport all that closely, having grown up on Earth.

    Then a couple of nights ago I heard her name again, when my father went on a rant about her, calling her an Ag traitor. He said she was involved in a recent assassination attempt on the Sovereign, though the Sovereign and Sean O’Gara somehow convinced the Council not to press charges.

    I couldn’t believe it when Father told me Sean’s actually dating Kira now, instead of the Sovereign. I mean, famous or not, she’s still just an Ag. But they did seem awfully friendly with each other at lunch and in Government class after.

    Ride’s here. Alan Dempsey leads the rest of us outside, where we pile into a silver van.

    I wonder why Kira and Alan aren’t together. Like Sean, they’re both seniors, but Alan’s in her same fine, nearly as tall as Sean, and nearly as good-looking as me. Okay, even in my head that sounds stuck-up, but I’m just being honest. Alan probably had Duchas girls swarming him when he first got here, too. That got old for me within a week of starting at my Duchas high school in Denver.

    It takes more than ten minutes to get to NuAgra, which is even more in the middle of nowhere than the rest of this godforsaken town. The others talk about school and the projects they’re working on at NuAgra but I barely listen. I’m too busy dreading the coming interview with my father.

    The van drops us in front of an opaque glass door that we each have to palm open. Inside the huge entry area, a uniformed woman approaches me while the others head for their various workstations.

    You would be Tristan?

    That’s right.

    Your father is waiting for you in his office. Right-hand corridor, first room on the left. His name is on the door.

    I turn on a little bit of the charm when I thank her, mostly to check that it still works on Echtrans. Molly O’Gara acted like she didn’t even notice it. To my relief, this woman blushes and stammers a bit as she assures me it was her very great pleasure to help.

    Reassured, I head for the hallway she indicated and tap on the door marked "Connor Roark, Echtran Council."

    Come, my father calls. I go inside, where he’s seated behind an imposing desk of some dark wood.

    Hello, Father.

    He waves me to the chair opposite him, about half the size of the throne-like one he’s sitting in. Well? Despite your reluctance to relocate to Jewel, you seem to have survived your first day of high school here. I assume you’ve met the Sovereign by now. Were you able to become acquainted with her?

    No, How was your day? like most parents might ask. Nope, not my father. He always gets right to business.

    Of course we met. I’m in most of her classes. You saw to that.

    And?

    I start to shrug, then stop myself because he hates that. I introduced myself to her, though she already knew who I was. There wasn’t much chance to talk in class, and during passing periods and at lunch she was always with friends.

    Friends. You mean Stuart, I suppose.

    Not just him, but yeah. I mean, yes, sir. She also seems tight with Molly O’Gara.

    He nods. "Her Chomseireach. Not surprising, I suppose, though I’d have thought the Sovereign’s treatment of Sean O’Gara would have created a rift with his adopted sister as well. May I assume from your response that you were unable to contrive any private conversation whatsoever with the Sovereign over the entire course of the day?"

    The way he says it makes me feel like a failure—as he no doubt intends. It was only my first day, I remind him.

    Begin as you mean to go on, he snaps, one of his favorite maxims. Were you at least able to convey your interest in doing so?

    Yes, sir. More than once I suggested getting together after school, but she never really answered because either Stuart or Molly interrupted.

    He gazes at me appraisingly. Perhaps your gift is not as strong as I had begun to believe.

    Though he’ll never admit it, I know it bothers him that I apparently inherited more of his Royal charming ability than he has himself.

    Or maybe she’s immune because she’s the Sovereign, I suggest. I don’t mention that Molly, who’s just an Ag, was similarly unaffected. Even when I turned it on full force in Chemistry class.

    "Perhaps. In which case you will need to fall back on whatever other resources you might have. Befriend Stuart, if nothing else will serve. Learn where the weaknesses lie in their relationship so that you can exploit them. One way or another, that relationship needs to end. It has been the driving factor behind the Sovereign’s most appalling lapses in judgment,

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