Her mother could insult her and belittle her and ignore the past as much as she liked. But no one in all of Mirabel was allowed to speak ill of her crew.
“That is not my name,” Andi whispered. She allowed the darkness to come up into her voice, the mask of shadow and steel to sweep across her face. “My name is the Bloody Baroness. And if you or Commander Racella ever so much as utter a single word toward me or my crew again, I will personally strip the skin from your body and wave it like a flag from my starship.”
Glorya let out a soft squeak.
Andi snarled with all of her teeth.
It was then that Havoc dashed out from the shadows of the room, yowling as he chased the cap of a perfume bottle that had rolled across the floor. The beast pounced, landing at Glorya’s toes with his claws outstretched like tiny daggers.
Andi’s mother screamed, sprinting from the room, shouting for the general’s Spectres.
When the sounds of her shrieks faded, Andi slumped back into her chair, picked up the brush and began to smooth out the ridiculous ringlet curls her mother was so obsessed with.
She liked the way she styled it better anyway. In a braid that could lash like a whip.
Havoc curled up at her feet, a loud purr rumbling in his throat. This time, Andi didn’t mind the sound.
If Gilly had accepted the creature, then Andi could, too.
Family did things like that, made sacrifices when it wasn’t the first choice they wished to make. And now Andi knew, perhaps better than she ever had, that the Marauders were more than just a crew of skilled space pirates.
They were family.
She was theirs, and they were hers.
Andi continued to brush her hair as Havoc chomped on the shattered remains of her mother’s broken champagne glass.
Chapter Seventy-Seven
* * *
ANDROMA
ANDI NEVER MADE it to Bavista, her coming-of-age ball.
When Arcardians reached sixteen years of age, young women and men alike attended a ceremony that they’d dreamed of since their early years. A way to show their fellow citizens that they were willing and able to become adult members of society.
She could still remember seeing the otherworldly dresses and suits float by her on the feeds as she watched the girls and boys glide into the A’Vianna House in the Glass Sector. They seemed light as air, full of pride, bursting at the seams with excitement. Once inside, they would be greeted by members of the Priest Guild, who would award each young person three items.
The first was a vial of water from the Northern Ocean, symbolizing strength. For growth, they accepted a single leaf from the oldest tree on Arcardius, known as The Mother, which was said to have been planted when the Ancients first arrived. Lastly, they were given a single floating pebble, no larger than a child’s fingernail, chiseled from the very gravarock where the Cortas estate was. It represented the wisdom of rising above.
If Kalee hadn’t died, if she hadn’t been branded a traitor and forced to flee Arcardius...she and Kalee would have joined their peers at Bavista the year they came of age. Instead, she spent it hiking to the top of a Soleran mountain. Staring at the cold world below through a rifle scope as she and Dex waited for a glimpse of an enemy crew.
She hadn’t really thought about how she’d missed her Bavista ceremony until now, as she waited for Valen to arrive at her door.
The girls had gone on ahead, too eager to wait. Andi had allowed them, relishing another few moments of peace before Valen arrived.
She stood in front of a full-length, ornate golden mirror, gazing at her reflection.
A gorgeous stranger stared back.
As much as she hated to admit it, the dress Valen had chosen for her did look nice. The bodice was a dark purple that hugged her curves down to the ground, and the sides of the dress had an intricate mesh paneling that flowed into a sweeping train. Her favorite part of the dress, however, were the sword holsters she’d managed to have the dressmaker include. They were formed to her back, and the bodice fabric was thick enough to cover any ridges. It was perfect.
The dressmaker had also accented her gown with a sparkling necklace full of jewels that Andi didn’t plan on giving back.
The gems alone would go for thousands of Krevs on the black market.
The hairdresser had loosely curled her hair so the blond and purple strands melded together in soft waves down her back. Andi had seriously contemplated asking the woman if she would like a spot on the crew. Her skills bordered on the magical.
The makeup artist, a frail-looking woman with deep ebony eyes that matched her close-cropped hair, had brushed a shimmering shadow over Andi’s lids, followed by a dark wing that made her look almost feline.
Admitting to herself that she looked pretty was something Andi kept private. She didn’t want to give her crew the satisfaction of knowing her true thoughts about fashion. How even though she was a fierce, hardened criminal, she could still appreciate the joy of a beautiful, impractical ball gown.
A knock sounded at the door just as the sun was dipping below the horizon, casting Andi’s room in a deep golden glow. She took one last look at herself in the mirror before she made her way across the plush carpet, careful not to step on her gown or breathe too deeply, lest the bodice split.
When she opened the door, Valen was standing there, hands stuffed into the pockets of his suit. It was white and pure, at complete odds with Andi’s darker gown. Valen’s gold eyes widened as he took her in.
“You look great, Androma. I can’t wait to see the look on my father’s face when we take to the dance floor together.”
Andi gave him a smile, taking his outstretched arm as he led them down the hallway.
“You know, you don’t look too shabby yourself,” she said. “All eyes across Mirabel will be on you.”
“I’m counting on it,” he said.
“Valen the Resurrected.”
He stopped to look at her, brows raised. “What?”
She shrugged. “It’s what the press is calling you in all the feeds.”
Valen let out a deep chuckle.
“It’s good to be back, Androma.” He resumed his pace, and for a moment, Andi let herself dream of what it would have been like to grow up here beside him.
If Kalee was here, too, her arm linked through Valen’s. The three of them against the world.
“Something tells me things are about to change for the better,” he said. “I’m ready to see it all happen.”
Andi wondered what he would do now that he was home with a whole planet at his disposal.
He deserved to have some fun.
With that thought in her mind, they moved down the halls of the Cortas estate, toward the south end, where the ballroom awaited.
Chapter Seventy-Eight
* * *
ANDROMA