CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

VESPER

W endell, Asterin, and I worked the rest of the morning.

Even though I thought sapphsidian was the key to stabilizing the hand cannon, I helped Wendell test all the other gemstones. I wanted to make sure sapphsidian was the only thing that might work, and my theory was correct. All the other stones failed, and every simulation ended with the lunarium and solar wiring in the magazine overheating and frying the hand cannon after a few blasts.

After we finished the final test, Wendell frowned. "We've tried all the stones, but I feel like we're missing something."

Asterin gave me a pointed look, and I shook my head at her again.

"I don't think so," I lied. "Maybe Esmina and Pollux stole something from the mineral exchange that wasn't on Leland's list."

Wendell shrugged, letting it go, and I let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Asterin's tablet chimed with a message. "Aldrich, Verona, and Beatrice are ready to return to the estate. My presence is requested," she muttered. "Beatrice is also asking about you, Lord Wendell."

"I'll catch up with you," he said.

Asterin looked at me, another silent question on her face. I nodded, and she left the workshop, shutting the door behind her.

I faced Wendell and crossed my arms over my chest, as if the simple motion would shield me from whatever he was about to say.

His gaze traced over my face, and a small, sad smile played across his lips. "You look so much like your mother."

Shock punched into my heart. Not what I'd expected him to say. Even more surprising was his gentle, almost wistful tone. Everyone knew Nerezza, but no one had anything good to say about her. Even if she hadn't abandoned me, I still would have been ashamed she was my mother, given how she used and manipulated people with her social engineering ability.

"You've probably wondered how I met Nerezza," Wendell said. "What our relationship was like."

"The thoughts had crossed my mind."

That was the understatement of the century. When I was a kid, I'd constantly wondered who my father was and especially why he wasn't around, but Nerezza had never answered any of my questions. Neither had Liesl.

"You probably know Miriol, my wife, Zane's mother, died shortly after giving birth to him. That was a very dark time for me."

Wendell's shoulders drooped, and he grabbed the table, as if he needed its support to hold himself upright. Even more telling, a wave of heartache and longing washed off him, but I didn't need Kyrion's telempathy to know Wendell had loved his wife very, very much.

"I was angry and grieving and panicked at the thought of raising a baby by myself," Wendell continued. "Of course, I had the full support of House Zimmer, and Beatrice helped as much as she could, but it was all so overwhelming . Every time I looked at Zane, I thought about how Miriol would never get to see him grow up and how Zane would never have a mother."

For the first time, I realized Zane and I had something else in common besides our DNA: we'd both grown up without a mother. His had been taken away, while mine had never wanted the job, but we'd both always had that same gaping hole in our lives. Uncomfortable needles of sympathy and commiseration pricked my heart.

Wendell cleared his throat. "Despite Miriol's death, I still had my Regal duties. The Imperium keeps chugging along, no matter what personal grief, heartache, or tragedy someone might be experiencing. One day, I went to a party. I was angry and brooding, so I grabbed a bottle of wine and plunged into the garden to drink my pain away." He paused. "And that's when I saw Nerezza."

My seer magic surged to life, and an image appeared in the air next to Wendell: a young Nerezza wearing a gauzy pink gown and strolling through a garden, trailing her fingertips across a bed of bloodred roses.

"I started to return to the party, but Nerezza waved me over," Wendell said. "I had seen her at various Regal events, but I had never talked to her before, and she was delightful. Smart and funny and so very sympathetic."

Another image appeared, showing Wendell and Nerezza sitting on a bench together. My heart squeezed tight. My mother did seem delightful, far more delightful and charming than she had ever been to me.

"Nerezza and I drank the bottle of wine and talked long into the night, and then . . ."

"What happened?"

"I kissed her," Wendell said, his pale eyes hazy with memories. "I'm still not quite sure how it happened. If it was all the wine I'd drunk or my grief or some combination of the two. But I kissed her, and it was the most wonderful thing. Fizzy and bright and beautiful. Nerezza giggled and ran off, but I called out, asking if I could see her again, and she told me to find her at the next party."

"And you did," I murmured.

He nodded. "Talking to Nerezza was the first time I'd felt alive since Miriol had died. The dark, heavy cloak of grief lifted from my shoulders, just for a little while, and I wanted more of that freedom. I sought out Nerezza at the next party, and then the one after that and the one after that. Soon I was spending all my free time with her. Beatrice didn't approve, of course. Even back then, she could see what Nerezza was scheming. But I was in love, and I was alive again, and I didn't care about anything else."

More images flickered in the air. Wendell and Nerezza smiling at each other, strolling hand in hand, even kissing in a passionate embrace. I blinked and shoved my magic away. I had no desire to see that .

"What happened? How did it end between the two of you?"

"I was supposed to meet Nerezza in Promenade Park for a picnic, but I was so eager to see her that I arrived early. Nerezza was already there, talking to another woman. I think it was your cousin, Liesl. She looked like Nerezza's sister."

Wendell shook his head. "Anyway, I heard Nerezza bragging about how she had finally snagged a Regal lord, and not a minor noble but one from a major House. One with enough power, money, and influence to support her ambitions. And that's when I realized Nerezza was just using me to get what she truly wanted: a way into House Zimmer. I was devastated."

More images appeared, showing Wendell's eyes widening in surprise and then his body sagging as Nerezza talked and laughed and thoroughly crushed all his love for her. My own heart squeezed in response. I knew that feeling all too well.

"I was just . . . numb ," Wendell confessed in a low, strained voice. "I pulled out my tablet and sent Nerezza an excuse that I couldn't make it. She read the message to her friend, then laughed. I can still hear her laughter to this very day."

He closed his eyes, and I too could hear the echoes of Nerezza's merry, mocking laughter ringing through my ears.

After a few seconds, Wendell opened his eyes. "I returned to Castle Zimmer and told Beatrice what had happened. Beatrice said she would make sure I never had to deal with Nerezza again. I was so embarrassed, ashamed, and heartsick that it was a relief to let Beatrice get her hands dirty while I focused on Zane and my lab and my projects. I didn't see Nerezza again until she came back to Corios several years later."

"Have you ever talked to Nerezza?" I asked. "Since she returned to Corios?"

Wendell shrugged. "She's climbed up through Regal society, so we've been at dozens of events together. Every time I see her, Nerezza will smile and nod, and she will even engage me in polite conversation from time to time. Although I always got the sense that she was mocking me, as if she knew some great secret I didn't." His gaze flicked over to me. "The night of the midnight ball, I finally found out what that secret was."

"Me."

He nodded. "You. And I was horrified . Nerezza had never told me she was pregnant. I was in Beatrice's library at Castle Zimmer, railing about the unfairness of it all, when I realized exactly how quiet Beatrice was being. That's when I realized she had known about you all along and that she had forced Nerezza to leave Corios."

Wendell drew in a breath, then let it out, along with a rush of words. "I don't know who I'm angrier at—Nerezza for never telling me about you and then abandoning you to climb the Regal ladder or Beatrice for making Nerezza leave Corios and hiding you from me."

His hands clenched into fists, and his pale eyes blazed with fury. More needles of sympathy and commiseration pricked my heart. Nerezza had used Wendell and tossed him aside just as she had done to me, and we were both victims of my mother's unending thirst for riches, power, and control.

"Ever since the midnight ball, I've been searching for you, although I'm not nearly as good at being a spy as Beatrice and Zane are," Wendell said. "When Zane told us that you and Kyrion were coming to Sygnustern, I knew I had to come too and explain about Nerezza and everything else." He hesitated. "That maybe you wouldn't hate me so much if you knew the truth."

"I don't hate you," I replied in a soft voice.

Nerezza was to blame for much of this messy situation, as was Beatrice. The two women had been engaged in a vicious power struggle, and Wendell and I had been the victims of their grim choices.

"I know you have no reason to like me or care what I think, but working with you today . . ." His voice trailed off for a moment. "Well, it was everything I hoped it would be. I know Beatrice and Zane have both hurt you, Vesper, and that I have hurt you too by turning my back on Nerezza, but I want to . . . well, I would say fix things , but you are not a weapon in need of repair—you are a person with wants and needs and feelings."

He shook his head, and a bitter laugh came from his lips. "Who am I kidding? There is no fixing how Beatrice hid your existence and Nerezza left you as a child. I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to see or speak to me, Beatrice, or Zane ever again."

Wendell was right. Nothing he said or did would ever fully heal the wounds my grandmother and mother had inflicted. But I didn't want those scars to define me either, or worse, keep me from something that might be good.

"What do you want?" I asked.

Wendell straightened up like a soldier snapping to attention. "You are my daughter, and I would very much like the chance to get to know you better. But the decision is yours. I just hope you will consider it."

I didn't know what to say. As far as apologies went, his was pretty good, but I was still wary, and I could still hear Nerezza's voice hissing through my mind. Useless child.

What if I let Wendell into my life, my heart, and he didn't like what he discovered? What if he turned his back on me the way Nerezza had? What if he thought I was as useless as she had?

A tense, awkward silence dropped over the workshop. Wendell kept staring at me, but the more seconds that ticked by, the more the hope dimmed in his eyes. My own chest twisted in response. I hated hurting him, but I didn't want to get hurt again either.

"Well, Asterin and the others are probably wondering where I am," Wendell said. "I will leave you to your work. Perhaps I'll see you later at the estate?"

I didn't trust myself to speak, so I gave him a short, sharp nod.

Wendell bowed to me, then left the workshop. The door shut behind him with a soft snick , and the sound ignited an ember buried in the cold depths of my heart that I'd thought was long extinguished—the fragile hope that I still might have a real family someday.

I stayed in the workshop for several minutes, staring at nothing. Finally, I roused myself out of my turbulent thoughts and started putting things away. All the gemstones I'd grabbed from the shelves, all the tools we'd used, all the doodles and theories we'd scribbled on pieces of plastipaper.

If I'd been in my makeshift workshop on the Dream World , I would have left the mess exactly where it was, but Asterin would probably get twitchy if everything wasn't stored in its proper place. Besides, the simple motions soothed me. By the time I finished, I felt a smidge better, or at least well enough to put on a calm face, grab the Techwave cannon, and leave the workshop.

The House Collier guards were still stationed on the street, and they summoned a transport and escorted me back to the estate. I went to my suite and set the Techwave cannon on a table. I knew Kyrion could sense that I had returned to the estate through the bond, the same way I could sense that he was here, but I still messaged him on my tablet. I was waiting for a reply when a knock sounded on the open door, and a servant stuck her head inside the sitting room.

"Lady Beatrice has arranged for tea on the south terrace. She asked if you would join her, Lady Vesper."

The last thing I wanted to do was see Beatrice, but I had to face my grandmother sooner or later, and I might as well get it over with.

I followed the servant through the corridors, across a bridge, and out onto the south terrace where I'd had lunch with Asterin and Kyrion two days ago. Once again, an impressive spread of food had been laid out, including scones, tiny cakes, and cucumber sandwiches.

Beatrice was sipping her tea at a small, round table. A faint floral note of raspberries curled through the air, along with the sharp tang of the lemon slice she'd squeezed into the hot brew. She gestured at the empty seat across the table, as though I was just another Regal lady joining her for a pleasant snack.

I yanked out the chair, sat down, and regarded her with a cold expression. Beatrice arched a silvery eyebrow at my rudeness, but she kept right on sipping her tea.

A charged, hostile silence filled the air. I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back against the cushioned seat. Beatrice had summoned me here, so she could explain herself.

Finally, after about three minutes of stony silence, she set down her empty cup.

"I see you are just as stubborn as Zane and Wendell are," she said.

"Maybe it's a family trait." I shrugged. "Or maybe not. I didn't grow up being part of House Zimmer, so who knows? Nature versus nurture is always a fascinating debate among galactic scholars."

Beatrice's mouth pinched into a flat line. Then she sighed, her ramrod-straight posture cracked, and she slumped back in her chair.

"I am sorry about what I did, Vesper. It was never my intention to hurt you. Only to protect my House and family from Nerezza." She sighed again, the sound longer, deeper, and full of aching regret. "And I am especially sorry about how Nerezza treated you. I thought having a child might change her for the better. At least a little bit. For your sake."

"Well, it didn't," I replied in an icy voice. "I was just another tool for Nerezza to use. And when she found out she couldn't use me the way she wanted, she threw me away like a piece of trash and never gave me a second thought. Just like you did."

Beatrice flinched as though I had slapped her. "I deserve every ounce of your anger, scorn, and derision. I am painfully aware of my own shortcomings."

She straightened up and lifted her chin, once again morphing into an elegant, unflappable Regal lady and the head of a powerful House. "But I am prepared to remedy that."

She picked up a black folder I hadn't noticed before, set it on the tabletop, and pushed it over to me.

"What is this?" I asked.

"Your trust fund. I started it the day you were born, just as I did Zane's. This money is yours, independent of House Zimmer, just as Zane's trust fund is his to do with as he pleases." Her lips puckered. "Although your brother tends to spend his credits on inane things like new Arrow uniforms and ridiculously expensive tailcoats that get ruined within minutes of him donning the garments. I hope you will be a bit smarter than that."

Curiosity got the better of me, and I dragged the folder closer, opened it, and scanned the document inside. The staggering number of credits almost made my eyes pop out of my head, but suspicion surged through me.

I closed the folder and shoved it back toward Beatrice. "Let me guess. This isn't a trust fund so much as it is a bribe for me to disappear and keep my mouth shut about being Wendell's daughter."

Beatrice shook her head. "No. Wendell loved you as soon as he learned about you. The credits are yours to do with as you please. Callus Holloway is still hunting you, and he won't stop until either you or Kyrion is brought back to Corios. You need that money to escape from him and all the bounty hunters."

"And if there wasn't a bounty?" I challenged. "Would we still be having this conversation? Or would you still be pretending I don't exist?"

Beatrice shrugged. "I honestly don't know. You may not believe me, but when Liesl claimed you had died . . . well, it was a burden I carried every day until I learned you were alive. Always wondering if my own selfishness led to the death of my granddaughter. If things would have been different, if only I had brought you to House Zimmer where you belonged."

Her face remained smooth, her voice steady, but regret rippled off her, and more needles of sympathy and commiseration pricked my heart. At this point, my chest felt like a blasted pincushion.

"Ever since I realized you were still alive, I've been paralyzed with fear," Beatrice continued. "Fear that you would find out the truth. That Nerezza would sell the story to the gossipcasts. That Holloway would discover our connection and kill Wendell and Zane to draw you out. So much bloody fear ." She snarled out the last word.

As much as I hated to admit it, she had a point, and all those awful things could still happen simply because I existed. "And now?"

Determination blazed in Beatrice's pale eyes. "I am tired of being at other people's mercy—or lack thereof. I will not fear Nerezza or Holloway or anyone else in the galaxy." Her face softened. "And I will not fear you any longer either, Vesper. You are my blood, which is a fact I've hidden for far too long. I hope you can forgive me someday. Or if you can't forgive me, that you can at least forgive Wendell. He desperately wants to be part of your life."

A sad smile played across my grandmother's lips. "I always thought Wendell's tender heart was a weakness, especially when he got involved with Nerezza." She sighed. "But now I think it is far better to have a tender, hopeful heart than an old, bitter, jaded one like mine."

I understood everything she was saying, everything she had done, but her explanation and reasoning didn't lessen the sting of her ruthless actions. Beatrice had been playing a game of Regal chess with Nerezza, and she'd sacrificed me, an unknowing pawn, so she could remain a queen and hold on to her own power. In that way, my grandmother and my mother were exactly alike.

Well, I was through letting them hurt me, and I would not fear Beatrice and Nerezza. Never again.

I had started to tell Beatrice exactly where she could shove her apology and her hush money when her empty teacup rattled on its saucer. For a moment, I wondered if we were having an earthquake or a rockslide, but in the distance, a faint buzzing sounded, quickly growing closer and louder.

Beatrice and I both surged to our feet. What was that noise? Where was it coming from?

Suddenly, a large transport zoomed up out of the enormous chasm at the edge of the estate. The transport quickly dropped down, as though it was going to crash into the energy shield that protected the grounds, but then the air shimmered, and the shield evaporated like fog. Shock pulsed through me. Why had the defenses gone down?

A flicker of movement caught my eye, and I glanced up. Leland was standing on a terrace higher up on the main castle, clutching his tablet. The chief of staff's dark gaze met mine, and even from this distance, his sly satisfaction punched into my chest like a spear.

Leland was my father's business partner, and he lost everything too , Asterin's voice whispered through my mind, quickly followed by Leland's words at the marriage mart. Although some Houses fall farther and faster than others. Even as the people in them rise and rise again.

More shock pulsed through me. Leland had apparently decided to rise again by betraying the Colliers and disabling the estate's defensive shield. I'd been so busy worrying about Esmina and Pollux that I hadn't spotted the rotten, jealous heart already lurking inside House Collier.

Leland's lips drew back into a thin smile, his teeth glinting like white razors in the sunlight. He saluted me with his tablet, then disappeared into the castle.

The transport zipped over and landed on the lawn next to the central topiary garden. A door on the side slid back, and mercenaries clad in black polyplastic armor rushed out of the vehicle like scorpions spewing out of a nest. Each merc was wearing a helmet and carrying a blaster or a large hand cannon, and a sick sense of déjà vu swept over me. This attack was eerily similar to the one at the mineral exchange yesterday.

The mercenaries moved forward, their weapons up and ready to fire as they established a protective ring around the transport. One of the men waved his hand in an all-clear sign, and two more people got off the transport—Esmina and Pollux.

Esmina was clad in a long red cloak, while Pollux was wearing the same black polyplastic armor as the other mercenaries. He was also clutching a large hand cannon, and two war hammers dangled from his belt as usual.

A chill swept through my body, and I stood there, frozen in place, completely in the open, and utterly exposed.

Esmina looked up, and her gaze locked with mine, despite the distance between us. A smile curved her lips, and she dropped her gaze back down to the mercenaries gathered around her.

"Spread out!" she yelled, her voice drifting up to me. "Find him! Now! Along with the secondary target!"

She jerked her head, and she and Pollux strode across the lawn and plunged into the garden. The other mercenaries quickly followed them. Surprise shot through me. Instead of trying to capture me like they had in the shipping yard, Esmina and Pollux were moving in the opposite direction. For once, I wasn't their target. Why not? What had changed?

"Where are they going?" Beatrice asked. "What do they want?"

Him. The word pounded into my brain. Esmina had said Find him , which meant the mercenaries were searching for a man, but who? And why would they go into the garden? If the mercenaries were here to kill Aldrich, then they should have stormed into the main castle. But instead, Esmina and Pollux had gone in the other direction as if their target was someone in the guest wing . . .

"Wendell," I whispered, another chill sweeping through my body.

If Esmina and Pollux wanted someone to help fix the Techwave cannon, Wendell would be an excellent choice, since he was a well-known and respected spelltech. My stomach dropped. I still didn't know how I felt about my father, but I didn't want the mercenaries to capture him.

"What?" Beatrice asked in a sharp voice. "What did you say?"

I yanked my stormsword off my belt. "Get inside! Find cover! Go! Now!"

Beatrice bobbed her head, picked up her long skirt, and headed toward the nearest door. I sucked in a breath and started running.