What had Loqi said back there?
Direct orders of His Radiance, to be executed with utmost discretion.
The possibility had occurred to her, faintly, aboard the dropship. Iedolas had lost his son in battle several years ago. Officially, there was no heir to the imperial throne. The emperor was dead, and the line of succession had come to an end . . . unless there was a child nobody knew about. An illegitimate child born to the imperial prince.
And her name, Sol.
The sun will rise once more.
Those had been the emperor’s final words.
Maybe Iedolas hadn’t fully trusted his chancellor. After all, Izunia had that air about him, like he was concealing some kind of secret. Or a thousand secrets, more like. It would make sense if the emperor decided to keep quiet about his only living heir. When Ardyn Izunia had finally bared his fangs, the emperor must have given the order to Loqi to find and secure the child.
“Listen to me, sweetheart,” she said.
Aranea didn’t know where or how the girl had spent her days until now. But there was no question in Aranea’s mind that the people in Sol’s life had loved her dearly.
“You’ve got a great big life ahead of you. Let’s see that you make the most of it.”
It was what all of them would have wanted, from the people who’d lovingly raised her since the day she was born, to those who laid down their lives to see that she could live hers.
Aranea hugged the girl once again.
M.E. 766
Lady A, you seen the little miss?”
“She took off a couple of hours ago. Why?”
“She did?”
“Yeah. Said she was meeting you two over at Beta Point. I guess if you’re here, she must’ve run into Biggs on the way. Give him a shout over the comm.”
“I, uh . . . ” Wedge said, concern painted on his face. Something smelled like trouble.
“I was just over at Beta,” he continued. “Biggs is the only one there. And I’m pretty sure . . . ”
Aranea realized she’d been had.
Hmph. Clever little twerp, she thought, as she recalled the conversation she’d had with Sol two hours ago.
“I’ll be fine,” the girl had said. “I’ll be with experienced hunters. And we’re not even going that far. I don’t need Biggs and Wedge babysitting me.”
“It’s precisely because they’re experienced that I want Biggs and Wedge along. Meldacio’s people have a job to do. They don’t have time to be looking after you.”
“When are you gonna quit treating me like a child?!”
“You want to go clear out daemons with the rest of them? Come talk to me in a decade.”
“I’ve already waited a decade!”
They had a lot in common. Aranea had thought so since the beginning. What she hadn’t counted on was raising the girl to be even more strong-willed than she was herself. But teens would be teens. They have to start lashing out at some point.
“The life of a foster parent is a hard one,” she sighed, looking at Wedge.
Aranea hadn’t had any parents left to rebel against when she reached adolescence, but she’d probably made life plenty difficult for the villagers and mercs who’d looked after her. Still, this wasn’t the past. For one thing, when Aranea was a teen, the world still had daylight. Things had been peaceful, more or less. A little girl playing grown-up among mercenaries had a decent chance of making it without getting herself killed.
Now that Eos was locked in perpetual night and daemons roamed around wherever the hell they pleased, irresponsible decisions were more often than not served up with a nice, cold side of death. The fact that Sol was a few years older than Aranea had been when she’d started fighting didn’t bring any peace of mind.
That was why, even when there was a whole group of hunters going out on a patrol, Aranea made certain to send Biggs and Wedge along. But apparently, Sol had grown sick of her little security detail. She’d cooked up a plan complete with fake rendezvous details to ditch them. This was a first.
When are you gonna quit treating me like a child?! The girl’s tone had been defiant.
“Never would’ve pegged myself as an overprotective parent,” Aranea said.
“What’s overprotective about it? Parents are supposed to worry about their kids. Why am I even saying this? I gotta get out there. I gotta find her!”
A slight smile formed on Aranea’s lips. At least she wasn’t the most overprotective adult in Sol’s life. That title belonged to another. Two others, in fact.
“I gotta get a message over to Biggs, and then . . . Oh geez. Listen, Lady A. I’ll see you later, all right?”
“Thanks, Wedge. I owe you one.”
The man left in a fluster, and then, for the moment, Aranea found herself alone.
“Guess it’s ’bout time to radio in the day’s report,” she told herself.
But when she stepped over to the transceiver, she realized it was earlier than she’d thought. She still had some time, and an idea formed about how to burn it.
“Hmph. How long has it been since I last made that?” she wondered out loud.
There was one more can of beans left, and if she put some of that dehydrated meat to soak now, there’d be just enough time to reconstitute it. It’d be a little sparser than usual, and she’d be making do with only what they had on hand, but still, it would be a home-cooked dinner. Her famous cassoulet.
More often than not, nights at the outposts meant eating straight out of a can. It was nice to enjoy a proper meal together every once in a while. There was always the chance that Sol wouldn’t be back until tomorrow, but if so, she could reheat and serve it again. Cassoulet was just as good the next day, if not better. Sol would come home to a clean bed and a big bowl of her favorite food―after she got an earful for running off on her own, that is.
Aranea opened the little cabinet and began pulling out ingredients, humming as she set about the task.