“You’re right,” I admit quietly.
“I know I’m right. What I don’t know is why.” She gestures to the viewport, to the asteroid field shielding us. “You told me that you’re the target. That I should give you up. Why? What makes one diplomat worth three cruisers?”
I look at her. Really look at her. The messy pink hair, the grease smudge on her cheek, the fierce intelligence in her eyes. I just spilled my own seed in a supply closet because the thought of her was too much to bear. I owe her the truth.
Slowly, I reach into my jacket. I bypass the crystal case initially and reach for the inner pocket, pulling out the object I haven’t worn since leaving the Valorian estate.
I hold it out to her.
It is a heavy ring, forged from dark Aethel-steel, set with a shifting amber stone that matches my eyes. The crest of the Golden Wyvern is etched into the metal.
Polly stares at it. Her breath hitches.
“That’s a House signet,” she whispers. She looks up at me, her eyes widening as the pieces click into place. “The crest... that’s the ruling line. You’re not just a diplomat.”
“No,” I admit, the weight of the confession settling on my shoulders. “I am not.”
“Who are you?”
“I am Rynn Valorian-kai-Kyreth,” I say, the formal titles tasting like ash in my mouth. “Heir to House Valorian. First of the Bloodline. Guardian of the Aethel Reserves.”
She stares at me, stunned. The silence stretches, thick and heavy.
“You’re the Heir,” she says flatly. “I slept in a bunk with the Heir to House Valorian.”
“And you called him Lord Broody,” Zip interjects helpfully.
I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Yes, thank you, Zip. The nickname has been noted. Repeatedly.”
“Just ensuring the records are accurate!” Zip adds cheerfully.
Polly ignores the AI, standing up and pacing the small space of the cockpit. “One of the oldest families in the Sector. And you hired me for a triple-rate courier run?”
“Discretion was paramount.”
“Discretion? You brought a planetary war to my doorstep!” She spins on me, fury radiating off her. “Do you have any idea what happens if anything happens to you on my watch? I don’t just lose my license, Rynn. I get executed for negligence of a high-value asset!”
“That is why I told you to surrender me,” I point out.
“Don’t you dare go back to that.” She points a finger at me. “So that’s it? They want you because you’re the Heir? Hostage leverage against your father?”
“That is part of it.”
“What’s the other part?”
I reach back into my jacket and pull out the crystal case. I open it, revealing the Aethel shard inside. It hums in the presence of my bio-signature, glowing with a soft, pulsing light.
I look at the crystal, seeing my own reflection in its facets—tired, hungry, desperate.
“This crystal,” I say softly, “is native to my lands. It powers our technology. It contains the data that secures my family’s future.”
I run my thumb over the faceted edge.
“The Meridian Consortium does not just want land, Polly. They deal in weapons tech. Bio-augmentation.” I look down at my hands—the hands that nearly crushed her in their need, the hands that hide strength far beyond human limits. “My people... especially the Valorian bloodline... we are not just stronger or faster. Our genetic structure is unique. Adaptable.”
She stops pacing. “Adaptable how?”
“Compatible,” I say, the word heavy. “Our DNA can bond with almost any other species to enhance their traits. Meridian has been trying to synthesize a super-soldier serum for decades. They have failed because the synthetic compounds degrade.”
