Page 29 of The First Spark (Dynasty of Fire #1)

The chrono in Kalie’s solar had just struck nine, and her headache had turned into a migraine.

“It’s imperative that you get your house in order, Duchissa.

” President Arrosa’s holoprojection crackled above the table, sending ripples across her dark pink skin and bubblegum hair.

With her broad-rimmed pink hat and ruffled rose blouse, the young woman who ruled the planet Britiria was the picture of old-fashioned elegance.

“I’ve said for weeks that Britiria stands with you against the Prime Minister, but as Senator Nadar pointed out, a declaration of war from Dali will garner the most public support. ”

“You’re the wronged party,” the amphibious Senator Nadar agreed. The crisp syllables of Galstan were gravelly in his throaty Aquisian accent. “People will follow you, if we act swiftly. We understand the transition of power is difficult in the best of times, but?—”

Kalie sighed. “I know. I’m handling it.”

Or rather, Uncle Jerran was handling it.

With every day her government failed to bless her declaration, the window of opportunity shrunk. General Akron’s brilliant three-pronged attack strategy would only work if the Federation remained unstable.

“If Dali lacks the unity to proceed,” a strident voice said, “these meetings are pointless.”

Sinking back into her overstuffed armchair, Kalie pinched the bridge of her nose.

The Etovian envoy was only parroting what Father would’ve said, but Father could’ve had the decency to say it himself. In the two weeks since she’d returned to Dali, not a word had come from him. Only this holoprojection of his vexing lackey.

She wanted to strangle him.

At the other end of the conference table, Mother cleared her throat. “Regardless, Theron should be mobilizing our forces?—”

“Thank you, Empress,” the envoy’s holo said, as if to a brainless child, “but the Emperor has tasked me with representing Etovian interests in these proceedings.”

The gills on Nadar’s scaled face rippled as the senator inhaled deeply. In his holoprojection, a stream of bubbles rushed past him. “This is the problem. Until the day comes where we stop fighting each other and focus on fighting Carik, any rebellion is doomed.”

The other projections nodded their assent.

Kalie gave vague assurances that she would handle it. The words were hollow. No one looked convinced. Still, the other would-be rebel leaders wished her luck before ending the call.

The chrono ticked away.

Mother rested her chin on her steepled hands, regarding Kalie like a ranorak watching a genapi cub. She straightened her posture and held her gaze.

Wind whistled past the open window, carrying in an earthy scent. Gauzy curtains swished in the chilly fall breeze.

“Are you going to let your sister in now?”

Kalie rearranged the table runner and the empty gold platters. “If you’d like. Surely you understand it’s for her own good that I keep her out of these meetings. If Carik were to find her implicated in treason… I couldn’t bear to see my sister fall too.”

“You’re protecting her.”

“Of course.”

They exchanged fake smiles.

This language of lies was their new game. It wasn’t any better than the old one.

Sighing, Kalie pressed a key fob. Mylis, standing guard on the other side of the entrance, held the door open for Selene. As always, his Guardsman’s uniform was pressed and starched. Despite his shaggy hair, he seemed to be someone who took great pride in looking his best.

She motioned for him to close the door. He gave her an apologetic smile as it shut.

With a snap of her fingers and a flick of her hand, Selene sent a maid scurrying across the room to pour her a glass of wine. She gracelessly flopped onto Aunt Calida’s long gray couch, sinking into the sapphire pillows.

“Make yourself at home.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, sister.” Selene snatched her wine from the maid, sipped at it, and wrinkled her nose. “No, this won’t do. Fetch me a vintage. None of this foreign swill.”

Kalie scowled. “When addressing my staff, treat them with courtesy.”

“What do you want me to say, please ?” Selene snorted. “How was day thirteen of the meetings I’m excluded from?”

“As uneventful as the rest.”

“Shame.”

Kalie’s headache pulsed as she strolled to the open window, batting aside the translucent silk curtains that fluttered in the breeze.

The calming scent of cedar and pine wafted in on the wind.

She inhaled deeply. Between the petitions and policies she now spent every waking minute poring over, the pointless meetings that dominated her days, and the two snakes invading her solar, she’d had precious few moments to enjoy Dali’s nature.

Home .

“If you need assistance, Kalista, you need only say the word.” Fabric rustled as Mother rose to her feet. Kalie bit back a huff of frustration. “I know your nobles are being difficult, but I dealt with them for most of my childhood, and I’m sure I could compel them to support you.”

“Why?”

“It’s simple. Unlike you, I’m a full-blooded Dalian—” half , Kalie silently corrected; even Aunt Calida had only been half— “and they respect me.”

“I meant,” she snapped, bristling at Mother’s jab, “why would you help me?”

“You really have to ask?”

Mother’s vulnerable tone caught Kalie off guard. The cold mask of Empress Hannover was gone, and unguarded pain creased her features. She seemed younger, less hardened. Between her conservative sapphire gown and her defeated posture, she looked like the girl she’d once been as Princessa Caira.

Utterly speechless, Kalie glanced at Selene. Selene’s brows had climbed to her hairline, and her painted lips hung agape.

“She was my sister,” Mother choked out, “and you’re my daughter.”

Scoffing, Kalie marched away from the window. “A selfish bitch? A naive fool? I remember all the loving endearments you had for us, so whatever you’re playing at, drop it.”

Mother looked down at her polished high heels. “I’ve made mistakes, yes?—”

“Let me make this clear.” As she yanked the door open, Mylis tensed, and Wells reached for his pulser. With a sharp shake of her head, she turned to Mother. “She was my mom, in every way that mattered.”

“You’ve made that exceedingly clear,” Selene grumbled, without moving from the sofa.

Mother stared at a cream-colored panel with a discolored square in the center. It was the only panel missing a painting. Once, a scenic view of the castle at Ashton had hung there. After Grandmother Madeleine drank poison in Ashton’s high tower, Aunt Calida had removed it.

“You’re going to hate me forever, aren’t you?”

The door slipped from Kalie’s fingers, shutting with a soft click . The hitch in Mother’s voice had to be another calculated scheme, but desperation shone in her glistening eyes. The carefully constructed walls around Kalie’s heart splintered.

“I would’ve loved you,” Kalie whispered, “if you’d let me.”

“You weren’t the one whose love was rejected.”

Kalie ground her teeth together. She’d been fifteen when Lexie was made the new Heredem—fifteen when she’d been asked whether she wanted to stay on Dali or go to Etov.

It wasn’t fair to blame her for choosing to stay in her home with the woman who’d raised her, who’d kissed her forehead and sang lullabies to her as a child.

Compared to a father whose name was a curse on Dali, and a mother who’d always been distant on their rare visits, there shouldn’t have been a choice.

But there had been a choice. She’d agonized over it for weeks, and that made it worse.

She breathed in the room’s tropical scent. This was the closest she’d ever come to a civil conversation with Mother about how things had ended. Shouting would lead to more arguments, more screaming, more tears.

“I never rejected your love. I wanted to love both of you, be loved by both of you, but you made me choose.”

“So it’s my fault again.”

“No, Mother, that’s not—” Kalie huffed, throwing her hands up. This was how it always started, with Mother twisting her words around. “I’ve lived here since I was born. My friends are here. My life is here. There was more to it than a choice between you and her.”

“But you always would’ve chosen her.” Mother said it like the words were acid, and heat burned Kalie’s face.

“ You made that choice. You left me here. You came to visit, what, five times before my ninth birthday? You chose to let her be my mother.”

“And I regret it.” Her cruel tone made Kalie stiffen, bracing herself for the inevitable blow. “Look what you’ve become. All of Calida’s worst traits have rubbed off on you. Naivety, selfishness, meekness. Gods above, you’re only twenty, and you’ve managed to turn your whole court against you!”

As the door swung open, Mylis poked his head in, sliding his hand to his pulser. Breathing heavily, Kalie waved him off. He frowned and shut the door.

A malicious grin curved at Selene’s lips, and Kalie dug her nails into her palms.

“You forget your place, Mother. This is my planet, I’m the Duchissa.”

“Your father and I preside over two hundred and thirty-eight dukes and duchesses on Etov alone, and thousands more across the other seven planets in the Empire. By no means am I intimidated by your new rank.”

“You don’t preside over anything,” Kalie spat. “You’re spoils of war to Father, not his equal. He doesn’t trust you with any power.”

Mother rocked back, and her mouth gaped open.

Selene’s cheeks reddened. “He sent her here as an ambassador.”

“No, he sent you here for a throne, and the moment that was gone, he sent his real ambassadors to do all the work.”

“You’re a bitch, you know that?” Selene snapped.

Kalie arched an eyebrow. “Have you looked in a mirror?”

With a less-than-ladylike growl, Selene stomped towards her. Mother stopped her with a raised hand.

“I think it’s time we take our leave from this court.” Mother’s face could’ve been carved from ice. “I know when I’m not wanted.”

“Obviously not, or you would’ve cleared out before I returned home.”