“It’s going to be okay.”

Gráinne nods into my chest as I stroke her hair. We both take a moment to breathe as the sun disappears beyond the horizon. Golds and reds reflect off the surface of the ocean, making a brilliant display of color that washes over us.

“It’s going to be okay,” I say again, kissing the top of her head. “Like you said, I’m still here with you… because of you, you know? You saved my life back there.”

She looks up at me, her brows furrowed. “I know,” she says. “Well, me and your exceptionally hard head. Not much I could have done without that.”

I chuckle, wrinkling my nose at her. “We’ll call that foresight on my part; augmenting my bones was painful, but worth it.” I brush my fingers along her face. “We made a great team, not that I ever doubted that we would. Are you okay? It was the first time you had to fight in a life-or-death situation.”

Her face softens as she nuzzles into my hand. “I am,” she says. “My training and instincts served me well. I do not feel any sort of remorse for taking their lives. My emotional energy is better spent on being glad we are alive, and my time better spent planning for future engagements with our growing list of enemies.”

“You’re right.” I lean my head back against the comfortable bench, sinking into the plush upholstery. I push my worry out of my mind. What she said may as well have come out of my mouth, and I appreciate the pragmatism in her way of thinking. “Speaking of our enemies—I have been conflicted about contacting Eva, but now I am certain that we need to. I will just have to get over my issues.”

“I think that is wisdom.” She kisses the tips of my fingers. “When will you reach out?”

I cast my glance out the window as I gather my thoughts. There is a part of me that wants to call Eva right here and now, but I know that is foolish—I’m not in a state to face her. “Tomorrow morning,” I say. “After we get off the train and we’re on our way to the workshop. I can work up the courage by then.”

Gráinne kisses my cheek gently, running her fingers through my hair. “I will support you,” she says. “Tell me about her? If I understand the two of you better, perhaps I can help.”

The very last thing I want to do is talk about my past with Eva, even though I see the logic in what Gráinne is offering. I want to keep the past buried, to keep up my barriers—they keep me safe. Or do they? I turn to look at my lover, staring into her rich violet eyes. Was I not safest when my walls came crashing down? Did I not discover new things about myself because I allowed myself to dig deep into agonizing emotions?

“Alright, I may as well,” I say, forcing the words out. “Eva and I were friends ever since we were kids. We were always competing, but in a way that made us better people as well as pilots. People sometimes thought we hated one another—our fights were intense.” The words get easier to say as I talk, as my walls come crumbling down around me. “But that was just how we were with one another. Sometimes we communicated more with our fists or our mechs than our words.”

Gráinne chuckles softly. “Adorable. I am a little jealous she has gotten to spar with you so much, though. You will just have to make that up to me.” Her smile is playful, her eyes warm and loving. “What happened in the end?”

A deep frown creases my face. “I had just turned twenty and went out on a mission to a Titan Tech controlled sector. There was a guerrilla insurgency fighting, trying to free their world out from under Titan control, and they reached out to us for humanitarian aid.” I take a deep, steadying breath. “When we got there, Hatsu…Admiral Tatewaki ordered us to go beyond the scope of our mission. We provided military aid as well—the conditions on the planet were disgusting. The insurgents won because of our intervention; We freed the planet—for a little while.”

“That sounds ominous.” Gráinne furrows her brows as she studies me. “What happened?”

The memory is painful, and I fight against the instinct to shove it down, to run away from it. “The new planetary government did not want further aid from Central, as is their right. We left. Within two years, Titan forces reclaimed the world.”

I grip my seat so hard my knuckles turn white. “It just didn’t matter in the end. Titan Tech still existed, and these corporate empires doesn’t give a fuck about worlds that just want to govern themselves. They just see resources to be exploited.” I take another breath, trying to regain a shred of composure. “It doesn’t have to be Central, but until something else takes the places of these corpos, no one is ever really free. Not even in Central.”

I press my forehead into Gráinne’s, trying to hold back my tears of frustration. “So, I went to Eva with this frustration. I told her I was tired of watching the rest of the galaxy burn. She didn’t agree with me when I suggested we do something about it. Like Sif, she believed in Central’s policy of slow growth.” I practically spit out the phrase, it fills me with such contempt.

“I made the choice to pursue my goals anyway, even though it meant abandoning her. It was agonizing, my love. I loved this woman with everything I had, but even so, it wasn’t enough for me to stay.” Tears roll down my face, my body beginning to shake. “And her love wasn’t enough to come with me, either. I don’t know how either of us is going to face the other.”

My princess holds my head to her chest, kissing the top of my head. Her fingers gently soothe my ears, stroking the sensitive skin. “My wolf,” she whispers. “I understand a bit better now. Let us get some rest, and tomorrow I will be at your side. Neither of you is going to face the other alone.”

---

It’s a perfectly ordinary day.

The sun shines in through my window. Coffee is brewing in the kitchen, filling the air with its pleasant fragrance. Just the smell of it makes me feel more awake. I have nothing to do today except do chores around my flat, which I’ll get to when I get to.

It’s a perfectly ordinary day.

Then my datapad flashes a name across the screen—a name that I’ve not seen for three years: Diarmuid Mirren. My heart instantly pounds in my chest, my heckles rising as I stare at the name. What could she want after all this time? What in the world could she possibly have to say after what she did to me?

Against my better judgement, I accept the call as I sit down on my couch. I keep the video off—I can’t handle seeing her face. “What do you want, Dia?” I hiss, not even attempting to hide my contempt.

“To talk,” she says, calm as ever. “I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important.”

“Are you dying?” I furrow my brows, my tail slapping against the sofa. “That would be a little funny.”

She sighs. “I’m not dying, Eva.”

The frustration in her voice amuses me; I smirk. “Well, I’m not sure there is anything important enough to be calling me about then.”

“I need your help,” she says softly. “And I’m on Earth. Will you please think about visiting me at the workshop so we can do this face to face?”

“The last time you asked me for help, I said no, and then you left me,” I say, biting back the stream of profanity I want to unleash on her. “What reason would I have to drop what I’m doing to come listen to you, Dia? You burned that bridge.”

I hear her sigh and can imagine her pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. No less than she deserves. A voice I don’t recognize asks her a question. I can’t make out the muffled conversation, but I hear a brief crackle over the line as someone new connects to the call.

“Hello,” says the unfamiliar voice. “My name is Gráinne, and it is my fault Dia is asking anything of you.”

Her voice is smooth as silk, easy to listen to. I really should hang up, but curiosity gets the better of me. “And who are you to Dia?”

“Ah, that is not… I am her fiancée,” she says cautiously.

Great. Just great. “You should run,” I tell her bitterly. “Dia doesn’t care about anyone but Dia and her plans. Real bitch.”

“Correct,” she says, her tone even despite my insult. “Dia is still carrying out those plans. She is fighting for my sake, and for many others. Please, Miss Evangeline, this is not a call made lightly given the history the two of you have. It is a matter of life or death for many.”

I want to scream into the line, but the earnestness of the plea makes it difficult to summon any of my rage. “Gráinne, right?”

“Yes.”

“If Dia is fighting on your behalf, that means you’re not from Central?” I ask, my tail swaying in irritation behind me. “How are you involved besides being her fiancée? What do you want?”

“I am the heir of the Fomorian Armory, Miss Evangeline,” she says. “And it’s my deepest desire to free my people from the tyranny of my father’s empire.”

I let out a sharp whistle. “No shit. You seduced a princess, Dia?”

“Eva—”

“Correct again,” Gráinne interjects. “While a crude way of putting it, yes. I don’t need or even want you to forgive Dia for what she’s done to you, but I am desperate, Miss Evangeline.”

 I lift my hand to my chin, tapping my fingers along my jaw as I think. A part of me, a huge part of me, wants to be angry, to mock her or better yet, just end this call. Gráinne’s continued sincerity gives me pause. More than that, I admit there is a part of me that doubts my rage. I refused to get involved because I was sure we’d just end up dead. What could we do against a galaxy? It was too much. Too big.

 Yet here is this girl, this princess, asking for my help. It’s not an entire galaxy anymore, it’s just one person. Dia made progress—she made progress by herself. 

Fuck.

“It takes a lot of balls to ring up your fiancée’s ex like this,” I say. “I like you, Gráinne. I can appreciate the gravity of what you’re asking of me.” A sigh escapes me. “Dia, I’ll come meet with the two of you. I’m not even all that far, so I’ll be there in a few hours.”

“Thank you, Eva,” Dia says. “Really.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“It means the world to me, Miss Evangeline,” Gráinne says. “We shall see you soon.”

I chuckle softly. “You know, you can just call me Eva, Princess.”

“Ah,” she says. “I’ll remember that.”

“She’s cute, Dia,” I say before hanging up the line.

I stand up, walking into my kitchen to pour my coffee into a travel container. My chores around the flat are going to have to wait. The sun doesn’t seem so bright anymore in the sky. I sigh, taking a sip of my coffee. At least it tastes as good as ever.

It was a perfectly ordinary day.

---

The air is heavy. My gaze lingers on my wolf, watching her face as she processes a thousand emotions all at once. Just as well, for I have my own thoughts to gather. Eva seemed kind enough in our conversation, though somewhat bitter. I worry for Dia and how the two of them might wound one another further in this awkward dance around their trauma.

I will do whatever I can to ensure her happiness, that much I have decided.

Wordlessly, I lean on her, pressing my body against hers. We have the transport to ourselves as we make our way to the workshop, Layla and Quinn having agreed to take a separate one to give us the space we needed to call Eva. Dia leans back on me, her face displaying a quiet, troubled storm.

“Princess,” she says, the word like honey on her voice. “Thank you for stepping in. You got through to her when I couldn’t have.”

I squeeze her arm, laying a few kisses on her shoulder. “I am glad,” I say. “It will be okay, Dia; I will support you both. The two of you will need it.”

“Thank you,” she says. “Maybe with you between us, we can have a productive conversation for once.”

A teasing smile forms on my lips. “I think the two of you are far too alike,” I say. “I understand now why you two communicated more with fists and machines rather than your words.”

She exhales. “Yeah,” she says, shaking her head from side to side. Her ears droop, a frown forming on her face. “We are too alike—stubborn beyond fault.” Her voice drops low, a note of anguish in her.

I smile softly, pressing my hand to her face. “Hey.” I brush my hand down her neck, softly tracing my fingers across her collarbone. “I like that about you. You never back down from anything. Gods, you are so strong it takes my breath away.”

Dia simpers, her face softening considerably. “My concern is that I’m dragging you along because of my stubbornness, and you don’t deserve to be put in this position if it isn’t fully your choice.”

“Okay,” I say softly, “I’m going to say this one last time to you, my perfect, pretty wolf. If you care for her, then I care for her as well. I will be there to help you both, and whatever happens between the two of you is what happens. I am fully here, with you, because I want to be. Understand?” I narrow my eyes, glaring at her sharply, but with love.

“Yes, Princess,” she says, her cheeks slightly flushed. “I believe you.”

“Good,” I say, leaning forward to kiss Dia’s collarbone gently, my lips lingering on her skin. “I love you.”

Dia takes in a sharp breath, squirming under my touch. “I love you, too.” She wraps her arms around me tightly, pulling me close.

I lick along her neck before pulling away, leaving her shuddering and red. Now that I know her spots, she is quite easy to tease, a far cry from how she was when we first met. “We just take it one step at a time. Are you feeling better?”

“I am,” she says. “You have both distracted me with your kisses and assuaged my concerns with your wisdom. Truly, you are perfect.”

“Hmph.” I glance away, a flush creeping into my cheeks. “Don’t you forget it.”

---

Mother sits across from me, wearing an expression somewhere between concern and unfathomable rage. She runs her fingers through her dark blue hair, her jaw muscles twitching as she restrains herself from screaming. The two of us are alone as she fumes—the others are inspecting the new Bansidhe.

“Cleo is again, several steps ahead of me,” she says, her voice exhausted despite her anger. “I thought I had some leads on her, but every time I think I am getting closer, she slips away. I thought she was allies with the Fomorians even, but she clearly has no issues killing them either.” She sighs. “Now, I don’t know what to think.”

“At the very least, we know I am her target,” I say. “A minor consolation, but it’s something.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “Daughter, that offers me no comfort. You underestimate how dangerous she is. Don’t jest like that.”

“It’s not supposed to be comforting, Mother,” I say. “It means we have information we didn’t have before. You’ve never known her goals or intentions and now, in part, you do. We can work with that.”

“Hmm,” she says, turning to look out the window. “Despite my misgivings, that is true.”

I lean over the table, giving her a soothing pat on her shoulder. “What about me would make her so obsessed, do you think? That’s the part I am struggling to understand.”

“Really?” she asks, a hint of a smile on her lips. “I thought that part would be the most obvious.”

My brows furrow. “No,” I say. “I’m just a pilot.”

Mother chuckles then, the tension in her face breaking. “No, my darling, you are my masterpiece—the best.” She looks back at me, her eyes soft. “You were so fragile after what happened to your mom, your life hung on by only a thread. I didn’t think you’d survive long enough to be transferred to the artificial womb, but you were a survivor, even then. The things I did to ensure you’d survive until your birth have shaped you in ways I couldn’t have imagined.”

“Masterpiece, mother?” I raise a brow. It’s never been a secret to me that she altered and enhanced me, but referring to me as such is new. “What did you do?”

She smiles. “I don’t mean it poorly, but you are a remarkable achievement. In part, because the things I did were as a mother desperately trying to save her child. My motives were driven by selfishness and love. It would be true to say I crossed several ethical lines.” Mother closes her eyes for a moment, taking in several deep breaths. “If you really want to know, I will send you my notes.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I stand up from my chair. “Like you said, you were being my mother. The way you raised me had a much bigger impact on me than whatever you did to save my life.”

Another chuckle as she rises. “I’m glad you feel that way. Let’s go check on the others. I am sure your fiancée is thrilled with her new mech.”

My communications implant alerts me to a new call—flagged as urgent, and it’s from Brigid. I motion for mother to go on without me, answering the call when I am alone.

“Yo.”

“Miss Mirren,” she says, her tone haggard. “We need to talk.”

“You have my attention,” I say. “What’s happening?”

“To put it mildly, all hell has broken loose,” she says. “The other noble houses were about to make a move against the emperor, but then workers started unionizing across the empire. The emperor has declared martial law and deployed the fleets to suppress the uprisings.” She spits out the last word. “People are going to die.”

“Very convenient,” I mutter. “The timing I mean.”

“Yes, very,” she remarks. “There’s more. Fianna was sacked. The empress and I escaped and are on our way to Earth. The princess’ bodyguard is with us as well, though injured badly.”

“Fuck. Where are you now?”

“We made it through the Slip Gate to Sol. We’ll be jumping to NLS soon,” she says. “The empress would like to know how Princess Gráinne is.”

“She’s hale and whole,” I tell her. “We were hoping our preparations would be done before something like this happened, but the Bansidhe needed an overhaul. When you arrive, we should talk strategy. In the meantime, there are still arrangements to make.”

“See you in a few days, Miss Mirren,” she says.

---

“You’re gawking,” Maeve says, a wide grin on her face. “Does that mean you like her?”

“Like her?” I turn to look at her. “Maeve, this is incredible! I hardly recognize her, but I say that in a good way. Does she have a tail?”

“Sure does.”

I walk around the rebuilt Bansidhe, admiring what they have done to her. Her colors are the same, brilliant platinum with pink trimming around the frame. The tubes that house the superheated plasma are dormant for now, but when I’m piloting, they will ignite brilliantly. Her arms, now reduced to only two, are symmetrical and her silhouette is much sleeker. Her head is more humanoid, and —

“Cat ears, too? Seriously?” I turn back to look at Maeve, furrowing my brow, my own ears twitching against my will. “A bit on the nose, do you not think so?”

She chuckles at me, Layla and Quinn joining her with small giggles of their own.

Her grin grows all the wider as she says, “When Dia told us what you two got up to, I thought it would be a cute addition. They are only cosmetic, but they will look fantastic when you take her into all-four mode.”

“It can transform?” I look back at the Bansidhe, my heart racing with delight. “Tell me more.”

“Allow me,” Viviana says, joining us. Her conversation with Dia must be over, though there is no sight of my wolf. “I took into consideration that you channel a berserker mode when you pilot for long periods of time. If the need arises, you can alter the Bansidhe’s form in such a way that will suit your inclinations.”

“The hands will exude plasmaclaws that can be extended to a range of about fifteen meters. The tail is bladed. You can wield it as you desire in both forms—it is sharp enough to cut through anything, I guarantee it.”

“The risk,” Maeve says, “is that in all-four mode, you have no weapons to use at range besides the claws—fifteen meters close quarters combat still. On the other paw, you’ll destroy anything you can touch with your claws and tail.”

“Mom,” Dia says, standing above us on the catwalk. “How long have you been waiting to say that?”

Maeve lets out a deep laugh, rubbing the back of her neck, as my wolf also does when feeling sheepish. “Don’t give me shit, young one. As your mom, it’s my right to tell awful jokes. My duty, even.”

“It was a good joke, Maeve,” I tell her. “Pawsomely adorable even.” I look up to Dia to see her eyes roll, a faint trace of a smile on her mouth.

“Thank you, Gráinne.” Maeve winks at me. “I know it’s quite different from what you were piloting before, but she flies, and she fights like you wouldn’t believe.”

Dia joins the rest of us, stepping next to me. With Dia this close to me, I realize she is troubled. A heavy cloud of anxiety clings to her.

“Before we jump into testing, I have some news for everyone.” She pauses, making sure she has all of our attention. “The Fomorians have declared martial law and are sending their fleets to quash nascent unions. Fianna has been attacked—your mother and Brigid are safely on their way here.”

My heart feels as if gravity is about to rip it out of my chest. Hearing that my mother is safe is a slight comfort I cling to. “Aoife?” I ask.

“Hurt.” She frowns deeply, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “We’ll know more in three days.”

I nod curtly. There is nothing I can do for my oldest friend now but wait. “Gods, martial law,” I say. “Unionizing is illegal; the fleets will use deadly force.” The thought disgusts me to my core, fills me with rage. “And there is nothing we can do to stop it, is there? There’s not enough time.”

Dia’s grip on my shoulder tightens, her jaw set, her eyes ice cold. “We’ll do what we can.”

“You will have enough time,” Viviana declares. “Come with me.” Her expression is stoic, unreadable, and yet I can see fire in her eyes. She hastens through the mechbay into an adjacent building—a massive hangar.

There is a ship in the center of the room, as large as a Fomorian Destroyer—large enough for a thirty-person crew, at least just from looking at the outside.

“She doesn’t have a name yet,” Viviana says, looking back at me and Dia. “You said three days?”

“Yes, but how does this solve our issue of time?” She folds her arms over her chest. “She’d—no. Mother, tell me this is what I think it is.”

Viviana smiles. “Yes. She’s equipped with a Slip Drive, and I’ve almost perfected the shields to protect from the radiation. In three days, I’ll see that she’s ready.”

“Do you mean to suggest that this ship can go into Slip Space on its own and the crew can survive?” I ask, my mouth slightly agape with awe. “That is not possible.”

“If my wife says it’ll work, it’ll work,” Maeve says, sounding wildly optimistic. “With the Drive Engine she has equipped, she’ll go several times faster than light, and in real time—no time dilation. Honestly, we aren’t sure how that works, only that it does.”

It is common knowledge that Slip Space is deadly to humans, no matter what augmentations they might have. The Gates provide us with the means to go instantaneously from one point to the next. The deadly radiation of that ethereal plane has no time to harm you. This is altogether different—revolutionary.

“We could reach the Gates faster than anyone else,” I say, piecing together a plan. “But even if we could intercept a fleet, how are we to fight or evacuate the people?”

“How many mechs can she hold?” Dia asks. “At least four?”

“It has seven docks in its mechbay,” Viviana answers, her face troubled. “And it’s equipped with a capital-class railcannon—it will pierce shields and hulls without trouble.”

Dia steps out ahead of me. “Mother, I know you didn’t just start this project,” she says, her tone betraying a hint of rage. “Why would you make a ship like this? And who for?”

Viviana stiffens, hesitates. Even Maeve and her usual boisterous nature is subdued. I glance between the three of them.

“To prevent what happened at Cerberus,” Viviana says, looking away from her daughter and back to the ship. “I still remember seeing the moon sundered, the remains of Charon Station and all those people—dead in an instant. I still don’t know what kind of bomb was used to cause that much destruction. All our friends on the Danu, too—so many ghosts who received no justice.”

She takes a steady breath before continuing. “Time was our enemy; our closest allies were hours away instead of mere seconds. So, I built this ship—this weapon. And now, when time is your greatest enemy, I want you to take it and fulfill its purpose: to save the lives of those who do not deserve to have them cut short.”

“Alright.” Dia takes a step back, her face still troubled. “I can do that, but you didn’t answer the second question.”

“Ah.” She frowns. “Admiral Tatewaki is the intended captain of this ship, but your need is greater.”

Another shade of my wolf’s past coming back to haunt her. I can practically feel her discomfort as my own, the intense unease is palpable.

“That may be, but I can’t steal a ship right out from under her either,” Dia says, releasing a long sigh. “Another person to talk to and the hours are ticking down. Where even is Hatsuko?”

Maeve walks over to her daughter—she is slightly shorter than Dia, I now realize, but only just. “I’ll talk to her. You focus on the mechs and putting together your crew.”

“Right,” she says. “Thank you.”

---

The workshop is the same as it ever was; high walls, massive in scale and strikes me with nostalgia like a hammer. Many of my younger years were spent here with Dia and her family, listening to Maeve go on and on about mechs, or Viviana come up with some brilliant new idea I never dreamed could exist. I didn’t totally lose contact with them when Dia left me. Viviana and Maeve are the only mech designers I trust, but this is the first time I have been back here since our schism.

A drone comes over to me as I step inside. I go through the process of stating my name, why I am here, all that bullshit. The drone leads me through to the living area of the building, the old family home. Not much has changed in all these years. The potted plants are bigger than they used to be, but it’s the same color on the walls, the same paintings and marble statues.

Voices sound in the distance. I recognize Viviana’s lyrical voice instantly, along with Maeve’s gruff bluster. Two voices I don’t recognize at all. The princess’ voice is unmistakable, calm, and calculating but with an earnest passion. Then I hear her and my heart stops in my chest, my breath taken right out of me. The urge that I have to run, to summon another transport and go back to my flat, is unbearable.

To get back to my perfectly ordinary day.

My feet carry me to the door despite my emotional protests. It slides open, the group of six turn to look at me. My eyes make contact with Dia’s. Rage and grief bubble up in my chest, threatening to burst forth. She looks as soft and kind as ever, which only makes me all the more incensed.

Fuck her and her stupid, gentle face.

“Yo,” she says, her new ears folding back against her head as she gives me her usual, ridiculous two fingered wave. “I like the tail and the ears.”

I hate her.

“Got them about a year ago,” I say. “You too, I see.”

Her long fluffy tail sways behind her, the motion stiff and agitated. “Can we have the room?” she asks the others.

All but Gráinne go, leaving just the three of us to stand in deafening silence.

“I—” the words get caught in my throat. What am I supposed to say? Fuck, what am I supposed to say?

“Do you still take your tea the same way?” Dia asks. “Heavy on the honey, no cream, right?”

“Yeah,” I say, my voice choking out the word. “Yeah, I do. Thanks.”

The princess looks relieved when Dia goes off to put the kettle on. She’s still within earshot of us, but the tension is less. I do my best to offer a warm smile, inspecting her. Her raven hair is long, tumbling down her back. Her violet eyes draw me in, making it easy to stare at her.

She approaches me, her sundress fluttering behind her. “Hello,” she says, holding out a hand. “It is a pleasure to meet in person.”

I take her hand in mine. It’s petty of me, but I give a much firmer handshake than is necessary. She only smiles at me as she returns it, her grip tightening. I like this girl. “Likewise.” I take my hand back, flashing her a grin. “You’re much cuter in person.”

Her cheeks flush slightly, but she holds her gaze to mine. “Thank you. I was not expecting you to look as you do now, just from the pictures I have seen on the back of the model mechs I have of yours.”

“You bought those? Which?” I lean against the wall, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“The Seraph, and the Caliburn,” she says. “They are back at our flat. I had quite a lot of fun building them.”

“That would be why,” I say. “The pictures of me on those are old. New me and a new mech.”

Dia hands me the cup of tea, and another for Gráinne. We both accept, offering thanks. It’s strange, looking down into the cup—I never thought she’d make me tea again. Grief and joy are in this black liquid.

“What are you flying now?” She speaks as if we’re just old friends catching up.

I can’t stand to look her in the eyes; her expression is too gentle. “The Morningstar.” Lifting the cup to my lips, I first take in the tea’s fragrance—citrus and spice. The warmth offers some comfort to my nerves as I drink.

“Right, look,” Dia says, “why don’t we talk about why you’re here? Unless you want more small talk.”

My ears twitch, my nose wrinkles. “No,” I say. “I hate small talk. Tell me what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

So, they do just that, alternating between the two of them to relay the events that have unfolded over the past month. Their duel, their engagement, the attack on the way to Earth and on the train. Gráinne spends a significant amount of time sharing her story with me, her desire for freedom from her station, and that Dia was her salvation. Each thing she says makes me furious; I had no idea how people were treated in the Armory. I was ignorant—I chose to be ignorant, to look away.

 Dia tells me about her time working alone, the state of the Armory’s ‘common’ people, and how she fought off Pirates or had an occasional skirmish with the Fomorian Navy. It’s much to catch up on, and I do my best to take in every word. Jealousy mixes with anger, which mixes with shame, leaving me standing there with a pit where my heart should be.

All I can think is that I should have been there with her, that I shouldn’t be hearing about these events as an outsider. It becomes clear as they speak that the bond they share with one another is deep and intense. A part of me had wondered how genuine they were. Seeing them like this, the ease of their words with one another, the glances back and forth, and how they both lean towards one another fills me with agony. I wonder how it would have turned out had I joined Dia on her crusade; the thought gnaws at my marrow.

After they finish, I take a moment to consider my words. I suppose I knew my answer all along; I wouldn’t be here if I had intended to refuse them. Even if I wanted to, the ship Viviana has created changes everything about this plan. It’s no longer just the right thing to do, it can actually be done.

My eyes lock with Gráinne’s, and I manage a small smile. “Alright, Princess, I’ll show you what a real champion can do.” I wink.

Dia rolls her eyes, which very much amuses me to see. “The Phantom is ready to go if you really want to find out that I’m still better than you.”

“No need to show off, Wolf,” I tell her. “I’m sure she knows how good of a puppy you can be.”

Gráinne’s cheeks turn slightly pink, her chin raises. “Ladies,” she says firmly. “That is quite enough about that.”

“Fine,” Dia says, a seething look in her eye.

It was a cheap shot, I admit, but it’s easier this way, to joke and tease—better to keep myself at a distance.

“Can I ask why?” Gráinne says tenderly. “Why are you deciding to throw your lot in with us?”

“Does it matter?” My brows furrow, my grip tightens on my cup. “I said I would help, and that’s really all there is to it.”

“It matters to me,” she says. “Please, Evangeline.”

Her tone and gaze cut through my carefully constructed walls; I don’t know how I can refuse to answer such a genuine question. “Because I don’t want to make the same mistake again. Looking at you, Princess, hearing your story… listening to you, Dia… how can I refuse you now? It was wrong of me to run away from you. I’m still pissed that you couldn’t somehow convince me. I know that isn’t fair or rational, and so right now I just want to make the choice I wish I had made then.”

“Okay,” Dia says. “For what it’s worth, I’m also angry at myself for not being able to convince you. I am sorry, Eva.”

“I know,” I tell her, feeling the knot in my stomach relax. “It’s in the past now. Let’s just focus on the future.”

“Thank you, Evangeline.” Gráinne reaches out, taking my hand in hers. “I believe that together, we can shatter the very stars. It will not just be the people of the Fomorian Armory that we free, but all others. No one is free until the least of us are.”

It’s my turn to feel heat rise up my neck and into my cheeks. “R-right,” I say. “I look forward to fighting alongside you, Princess… and you can just call me Eva.”

She grins at me, her eyes staring right through me. “Very well, Eva.”

I take my hand back, handing Dia the empty cup before turning my back on them. “I’m going to bring the Morningstar here,” I tell them. “Your mom can help me get her combat ready in the bit of downtime we have left. I’ll be back soon.”

“Perhaps,” Gráinne begins, “when you get back, you could help me test out the new Bansidhe. I have already tested Dia’s might, and I am most eager to test yours.”

“Careful what you wish for, Princess,” I tell her. “I don’t take prisoners in a match, not even a friendly one.”

“I would have it no other way.”