Page 67

The last time I truly felt like myself was when I was in the pleasure room with the triad.

As the doors open completely, and the fresh, highly oxygenated air rushes in, all my worries melt away.

I’m home. The sound of birds, the smell of the trees, thatcleannessthat you can’t get anywhere else.

There are two rows of men and women waiting for us. Wardens, in the brown and green camouflage. In the trees, you could be a few feet away from them and you’d never see them. They would have doused themselves in forest scent as well, knowing that Aurelians have a keen sense of smell. To my discomfort, they all have the standard issue EMP gauntlets on their left hands, which can disable machinery, and on their backs are slung the zero-point sniper rifles that pierce a thin, tight beam with low collateral damage in the forest when used to hunt down poachers.

When the wardens are on patrol, far from the forest cities, they are judge, jury and executioner.

The way they look at the Aurelian triad, right now, they’re feeling like the latter.

But in those hard, unfriendly faces, I don’t see the ones I was expecting. My older brother is a high-ranking ranger, and my father is the leader of this forest. Their absence chills me.

The only face I recognize stands at the end of the line in the center. While Tabitha, the planetary representative, is poignantly absent, the top politician of this continent, a friendly face in the sea of anger, is awaiting us.

Calder Wynham, the former head warden, still with lean muscles from working the forests daily. His brown beard has a few more flecks of gray in it than I remember, and he’s a little bit paler than before, but it’s still him. He’s got a longgolden necklace with a bright green pendant at the end, and I can already imagine Titus grumbling to me later about how he wasn’t allowed his chain. Behind him are two women and a man in the flowing green, blues and browns of our people, each holding a small brown bag.

We walk through the gauntlet of men and women, the Aurelians seeming not to sense the danger, fully relaxed, Doman at my side, Gallien and Titus trailing a step behind. They slow their long-legged pace so I can walk with dignity. There are no drones darting around, no media with holo-vid cameras. Virelia wants this to be as small as possible in the national consciousness.

“Adriana Hart, Prime Minister of Pentaris.” His eyes crinkle as he tries not to smile.

“Calder Wynham, protector of the northern forests.”

“I did more protecting as a warden. That’s on your father now.” And the smile breaks out, warm and gentle. He opens his arms, and I hug him. The Aurelians tense up, but Calder was like an uncle to me, good friends with my dad and often coming to our family dinners.

The Aurelians tense up a little, not expecting this, but they make no threatening movements.

He turns to the three Aurelians, even as I am brimming with questions about where my family are.

“Crown Prince Doman. Prince Gallien, Prince Titus. I pledge to you safety during your stay.”

“Thank you, protector Wynham.”

I can’t wait a second longer. “My family, where are they?”

Calder tenses up. “They are in your home. You were not informed?”

I think of the hundreds of unread messages and communications waiting for me and try to keep my face neutral.

Calder clears his throat. “We know that time is pressing for you. We have prepared everything we need for the ritual. When planted, the seeds will be guarded day and night, and no harm will come to them. Your union will blossom.” The men and the woman behind him proffer the bags, filled with seeds, from which we will each pick one to plant.

The concord pine. They do not compete with each other for sun, but grow together, winding their trunks and branches outwards, nourishing trees of their own species.

Since the triad is three, the four trees will grow together, and with time will become the tallest of all the concord pines on the planet. It will be another poisonous bile for the nationalist to swallow, and Calder is right to post guards. It would be uprooted this very night if not.

“I would like to spend a night on my home planet and see my family. Would we postpone the ceremony for tomorrow?”

I know it’s just a formality. That I was voted into this marriage. But I had always imagined that when it came time for me to plant the seeds with the love of my life, I would be surrounded by my family. It was meant to be one of the happiest moments, and now, everything feels wrong. Not even my little sister wanted to come.

The wardens watching tense up palpably. They had been expecting us to be in and out in minutes.

Calder nods. “Of course. Your family has planned to see you after the ritual, once the planting was done and the royal triad had returned to the… comfort of their ship,” he says, giving the Aurelians a long look.

On diplomatic affairs, I’ve got a team of advisors, sharp minds that will give me counsel on any issue.

Dealing with family? It’s messy. There’s no playbook on dealing with the muddiness, because my father Owen is headwarden, my older brother Oakly is a captain in the forest guard, and their absence is a message.

The forest of my home, the wall of trees that climb to the skies, brings back a thousand memories. I scan the foliage, looking for any sign of movement, but any warden worth his salt would be hidden against the greenery.