Page 29 of Bound by Stars

Not that it means anything. We’re friends at best. Jupiter was literally forced to work with me. And we’re finished now. ILSA’s plans are complete. The mock presentation for Calypso is done.

My chest tightens. What happens now that our obligatory alliance has ended?

“Boom!” Asha points a gloved finger toward where Mr. Earnshaw’s head is tipped back, mouth hanging open. His chest slowly rises and falls with heavy snores that penetrate the din of the party, audible even from halfway across the room. “Pay up, folks!”

“That might be a record.” Skye pulls her comm out of her beaded handbag. “Sent.”

Tar glares past me at his twin, pulling back the cuff of his dress shirt and reluctantly tapping the little screen.

I glance back again, but Jupiter’s disappeared.

A porter cuts off my view, offering a tray of bite-size puffs.

I pop one into my mouth. The filling is salty and sweet. Before he swings the tray away, I take two more. I’d only managed a few bites of cake before my presentation between my nerves and Reve, and my stomach aches for more food.

“Excuse me.” I nod at the others, pushing away from the table and heading for the next tray-wielding porter I catch in my sights.

“Whose child are you?” A bony hand clamps around my wrist. The woman squints up at me with an intrusive stare.

The lace sleeves of her violet dress hang off her thin arms, and her earlobes droop under the weight of clip-on pearls.

Her years are tallied on her face in smile lines and sun-weathered skin. “Did you hear me?”

“My parents aren’t here. I…I’m from Earth.” I suddenly remember how much I don’t belong here.

“Well, little Earther girl, I didn’t ask where they are. I asked who they are,” she says in a matter-of-fact way, like my status doesn’t concern her in the least.

“Nova and Samuel Fleet.”

“Afraid I don’t know any Fleets. There is something familiar about you, though.

” Pulling me in a little closer, she studies me.

She looks equal parts frail and formidable.

It’s something behind her eyes. Like she could get up and waltz across the floor as likely as she could be too weak to stand.

Even with her clear lack of boundaries, I think I’m going to like this woman.

“I’m Aquilla Nole. Friends call me Quilly. You can call me Aquilla.”

I definitely like her.

“Sit with me, Fleet. I’m in dire need of company. These events haven’t been fun since 2170. What’s the point if you aren’t young enough to dust up a bit of scandal or be swept off your feet?” She adjusts her beaded gown like she’s making room, but she doesn’t actually move back.

I sit in the chair next to her, a little too close for my comfort, but she continues squinting at me like I’m too far away.

Keeping her eyes locked on my face, her hand flies out, catching a passing arm. “Captain, stop and meet my new friend.”

With a heavy sigh, Captain Nazari pauses next to Aquilla’s chair with a hard set to his jaw and a tight smile.

She grips his forearm like she’s keeping him from running away. “Have you met…” She squints at me like she’s trying to remember my first name, but she didn’t ask for it.

“Weslie Fleet.” I fill in the blank.

“Yes. Weslie Fleet. She tells me she’s from Earth.” She turns her attention to the captain and raises her eyebrows at the mention of my planet like it’s significant to him. A warning, maybe? Monitor this one closely, she’s an Earther.

“Good to meet you, Ms. Fleet.” His expression softens, eyes lingering on my face longer than seems necessary. Recording a mental mugshot? Still trapped in Aquilla’s grip, he bows his head to me. “Always good to find an Earther among the elites.”

I nod once. But what the hell does that mean?

Placing a hand over Aquilla’s frail fingers, he bends down closer. “You ladies will have to excuse me. I’m expected to make the rounds at these things.”

“Of course.” She pats his hand and releases him.

He glances back at me once before disappearing into the crowd.

Aquilla scrutinizes him as he walks away. “He holds the record for safe crossings, you know. So popular among the ultra-rich. Smooth, debonair, very handsome. Slipped right in among the elite of the elite.”

She’s as big a gossip as Asha.

“So…which one will you choose tonight?”

I frown. “I’m sorry?”

“Love or scandal?” She raises one thin white eyebrow. “Or possibly a bit of both?”

“I’m, uh…I…”

Jupe lays a hand on her shoulder. “Quilly. Don’t scare Weslie off before I’ve managed to convince her to dance with me.”

“Ah…a bit of each it is,” she whispers, bringing me back to reality. She winks and then peers up at Jupiter. “Of course, dear.”

I rise from the chair. “It was nice meeting you, Aquilla.”

She pulls me in closer again before releasing her grip and shaking her head.

As we walk away, she mumbles something under her breath, but I can’t make it out.

Jupe stops at the edge of the dance floor as a new song begins. “Do you know how to waltz?”

“Kind of.” In my mind, sunlight breaks through leaves and a warm, dusty breeze brushes my bare legs.

I follow my mother’s steps through the soft dirt.

My bare feet are clumsy and small. She hums a high-pitched tune, holding long notes as I miss a step, and she guides me in the right direction.

Back, side, together, front, side, together.

Jupiter offers his hand.

My skin tingles under his touch and, for a millisecond, I’m transported back into the cargo hold. Floating. Weightless.

He swings me around and our grip locks.

I watch my feet as we move over the dance floor like I did when I was a kid.

“Keep your eyes on me. You’re doing great,” Jupiter whispers.

I lift my gaze, and we glide together easily until over his shoulder I’m caught in his mother’s icy glare. I trip over the toe of his shoe, but he doesn’t miss a step. “How powerful is your mother?”

“She’s the head of my family corporation. Everyone answers to her, and she doesn’t stand for anyone disagreeing with her.” There’s reverence in his voice, but also bitterness. “I would say my mother’s power is as close to absolute as you can get without actually being a dictator. Why?”

“Because I think she’s about to put a hit out on me.” I keep my eyes on her, spotting as we spin.

She leans toward Gianna, staring without seeming to ever blink.

“Ignore her.”

“I can ignore stares, but a knife in my back might be a little more difficult.”

“She’s a control freak, not a murderer. You’re safe, I promise.” He pointedly avoids looking toward the back of the room. “She’s probably angry with me. She’s always angry with me.”

“Your parents are pretty hard on you, huh?”

“Just my mom. My dad’s pretty easygoing, but he follows the whole ‘no disagreeing with Sabine Dalloway’ rule.” He exhales. “That’s part of her job, though, oppressing and molding the next generation of leadership.”

“I’m sorry.” I find his eyes. “That sounds like a lot of pressure.”

“It is what it is.” He shrugs and spins me, catching my hand expertly and pulling me back in a little closer than before.

The song ends. A long, trilling note begins the next. A slower song. The people around us move in shorter, swaying steps.

Jupe pulls me to his chest.

“I don’t think I know this one.”

“Just follow my lead.” He guides me, shifting around the other couples in wide circles. We loop three pairs before I realize there’s a pattern to the movements. Everyone steps at the same time, passing between each other flawlessly. No collisions. No chaos.

I give in, following and watching the other dancers pass.

“Wes,” Jupe whispers.

My skin tingles where his breath grazes my ear. I turn my head to meet his eyes. Our faces are so close he barely moves to touch his forehead to mine. Heat washes through me from my face to my chest to my stomach.

“I…” He draws his mouth so close to mine that I can taste his breath. Peppermint and champagne.

The music stops. Applause erupts as the crowd on the dance floor swells.

Jupiter exhales and steps back.

I unfreeze more slowly, shifting to face the stage with the rest of the party.

The violinist, a tall woman with black hair braided into a tight crown, stands holding out her bow toward the rest of the band. They all take a quick bow before she rests her chin on her instrument and leads them immediately into a quick-tempo number.

As though possessed by the arrangement of notes, everyone around us moves into position, forming circles across the dance floor. Within the bounds of the closed groups, sets of dancers take quick steps, spinning, crisscrossing, splitting on the opposite side, and switching partners at the edges.

“Follow me.” Jupiter pulls me to him, catching my waist with one hand and leading me in dizzying circles, weaving between other pairs, and then spinning me to my position on the other side. Disoriented, I twirl away until Curran and Asha catch me between them at the edge of the group.

“Our turn,” Curran says, offering me his white-gloved hand.

He pulls me along in the same steps, but he’s taller than Jupiter and far less graceful.

Our movements feel out of control, and when the other couples swirl around us, I’m sure we’ll end up in a pile on the wood floor.

When he spins me out to find my place on the other side of the circle, I’m as relieved as I am dizzy.

Pressing a hand to my chest, I take a long breath to settle my churning stomach.

In the center of the circle, Skye and Jupiter twirl together, face to face, grinning and laughing as they disappear between other couples. I guess I never noticed how close they are. Something ugly knots my stomach, but I immediately smother it. Skye is my friend. And so is Jupiter.

The song ends and everyone applauds.

On the other side of the group, Skye holds Jupe’s shoulder for support like she’s about to crumple.

When they recover, he kisses her cheek and then turns away.

His eyes soften when he finds me in the crowd.

Different from the way he looked at Skye.

Because I’m new? Because he’s obsessed with Earth? Or is it something else?

Jupiter crosses the disbanding circle, unaware of anyone in his path, and stops in front of me. “Can I have another dance, or do you need a break?”

People partner up again. Couples move through basic steps around us.

Across the room, Jupiter’s mother is engrossed in conversation, her back turned.

I lean close to whisper, nodding toward her. “Want to get out of here?”

His eyes stay glued to me, and a devious grin spreads across his face. “Absolutely.”