The Defiant

Our first glimpse of the Cebosian prime minister’s home came as we stepped from the hovercar nearly twenty minutes later.

It was a colossus, a sleek syntha-steel and glass structure that towered intimidatingly above me as we disembarked from the hovercar.

The house rested on a massive cliff of obsidian that overlooked a large, round crater. The sun reflected off the crags of black glass that made up the surface, sending rays of sunlight bouncing crazily around. I felt oddly like I was standing atop an enormous disco ball.

Someone inside the house flung open the grand front doors, and Monique hurried us inside. In only the most polite way, of course.

I mounted the steps and crossed over the threshold, looking curiously around the entrance hall. The floor was creamy-white marble, polished to such a high finish that I could see my face in it when I looked down. The ceiling was high, and from it hung an orante vintage crystal chandelier. Priceless art hung tastefully from the walls. A gold fountain (A fountain, indoors! The ridiculous things rich people come up with!) in the center of the hall flung glittering water high into the air.

“Your Highnesses.”

I turned my head to see a dark-haired man in a well-cut suit descending a large marble staircase to my left that I had missed before. He reached the bottom and bowed deeply to us.

“My dear princesses. And the lovely countesses, of course.” His voice had an oily, slick quality that appeared charming at first, but rang false if examined too closely.

Eight smiled brilliantly.

“Prime Minister Milonakis,” she said demurely, sinking into a curtsy. I followed suit, feeling ridiculous. Why the Eranians insisted on conducting themselves like they were stuck in the eighteenth century, I’ll never understand.

“I am honored to have you as my guests,” Milonakis said silkily, smiling. His smile was unsettling, seeming unnatural for his face, like the smile of a snake.

“We are pleased to be here,” I said.

“The Cebosians are not used to such a rare treat. Perhaps you ladies will join me in some entertainment this afternoon?” he asked, still wearing that slick smile.

“Prime Minister, I’m sure that would be delightful, but we’ve just had a long trip, and we would like to rest up before the festivities tomorrow evening,” I said hurriedly, not in the mood to dodge political landmines for the rest of the day.

“Of course, of course,” he murmured, smile never slipping. “Monique, perhaps you will lead Their Highnesses to their quarters so that they may rest?”

“Yes, sir.” Monique appeared at my elbow. “This way, Your Highnesses.”

“I will look forward to seeing Your Highnesses at the ball tomorrow night,” Milonakis said pleasantly, showing his shark teeth. I shuddered involuntarily, and his sharp eyes caught the movement and narrowed almost imperceptibly.

“Certainly,” Eight said with a smile of her own, grabbing my arm so hard I nearly gasped. “Come along, sister.”

Monique escorted us down the halls at a fast clip. I tried to memorize the layout of the place in case we would need it tomorrow, but after a while I had to give up. We walked for at least ten minutes, and all the halls looked exactly the same. I was sure we were walking in circles until Monique took a hard left into a short hallway that ended in a thick doorway.

“These are your rooms. You may rest for now, but the Prime Minister requests you take dinner with him in the Great Room. I will come get you when it is time to go. I will also escort you to the ballroom tomorrow evening. Now, if you will release your guards to me, I will take them to the guards’ barracks—”

Two looked at me, panicked.

“No!” I said, too sharply. Monique raised her eyebrows at me. “I mean, we would prefer to keep our guards outside our door. If that’s all right.”

“Of course. I will take them to their barracks after dinner,” Monique corrected herself, straightening her face again. Then she turned on her heel and clicked away.

The eight of us released a collective sigh of relief. I pushed open the door behind us, and we all crossed the threshold.

“Holy shit!” Five said in awe.

Four swore loudly and then ran forward through the room, taking a flying leap onto a bed.

I was similarly amazed.

We stood in a huge parlor full of cream-colored velvet and shining wood furniture. The room was artfully decorated, and comfortable, with a fire dancing merrily in the grate and plush carpet beneath our feet.

Five doors leading off from the parlor stood open, revealing the most palatial bedrooms I had ever seen. I wandered into the first one in wonder.

It was all decorated in blue; from the chintz chairs sitting in the corners to the huge canopied bed in the center of the room. Paintings decorated the walls. A techni-glass door in the back wall led out onto a balcony overlooking the crater, with netting around it so the guests wouldn’t fall. Another door led to a private bath, patterned all in white marble and blue glass.

Back in the main room, I opened the wardrobe, where I found Countess Isabella’s clothing all hung up neatly. This must be Three’s room, where the Cebosians had brought her bags while we greeted the creepy prime minister.

I walked back into the central parlor, where I saw the others exploring the other rooms. Above the doors were small plaques with the names of the rooms: Sapphire, the one I had been in; Crimson, patterned all in red; Jade, in green; Orchid, which was purple; and Ivory, which looked like the inside of a cloud, dressed in white silk.

Four was flopped on the bed in the Jade room, her fluffy yellow skirts and scarlet hair a sharp contrast to the green decor. Three was running her hands over the curtains in the Ivory room, while Seven examined a painting with an expression of wonder. Six and Eight explored the Orchid room. Five and Two were hitting each other with the red pillows from the Crimson room. I rolled my eyes, and called them all to the parlor.

“Is this all for us?” Four asked almost reverently, after extricating herself from the tangled mess of her skirts and coming to meet me.

“Yeah, but remember, it’s just for one night, and we have to stay focused,” I reminded her gently, as if I wasn’t over the moon myself at the idea of a proper bath, which I had been craving after a month of air showers.

“Red room’s got your stuff in it, One,” Two told me, dropping his pillow onto the bed and returning to the parlor.

“Yes, we were all assigned rooms.”

“Not all of us,” Five pointed out, whacking Two in the back of the head one last time before discarding his pillow. “We have to stay in the guards’ barracks.” He gestured to himself, Two, and Six. “What are we supposed to do?”

I sighed, running a hand down my face. “There’s nothing we can do about it. Just don’t talk to anyone. Look as unapproachable as possible, and wait until morning. Look, it’s not ideal, but we knew we’d probably be separated at some point, right?” They all nodded, somewhat reluctantly on the boys’ parts. “We planned for this. We’ll be fine. And you guys all have your comms, right?” Another round of nods.

“This is totally unfair. How come you guys get the cool rooms?” Two complained.

“Hey, at least you guys get to wear pants,” Seven groused, glaring at her green dress, the hem of which she had nearly tripped over in front of the Prime Minister.

“You get to dance at the ball. We’re not even allowed to talk—” Five protested.

“At least you don’t have to have dinner with that creep Milonakis!” Four fired back.

The conversation quickly devolved into a who-can-outdo-whom competition. Normally I would have intervened, but this time I just sat back and enjoyed the fact that we were all together, and safe, possibly for the last time.