# CHAPTER 2: THE PRINCESS'S MOON
A meeting? Well, this wasn't what you would call a meeting. Orn had been married for all of twenty-five minutes, and he was now being shipped off to his new bride to ensure that his "bloodline" continued. But if you asked him, Orn would rather not be here right now. This was a reality where control over your own life was limited, where you lived at the behest of the people who brought you into this world—whether you liked it or not.
At the moment, he was on a space elevator heading down to the holy city of Deimos. Of course, said city was just a colony on one of the four moons that orbited the seat of the Aegean Empire's power—Aegean Prime itself. If history was to be believed, each of the moons represented the wives and concubines of the First Aegean Emperor. He had worked hand in hand with them to build the empire before ascending—or so the legends said—to become the planetary bodies that many people had come to call home.
Still, there was merit to the legend. Deimos, Lilandras, Feiyon, Amaka—four moons that served as the core of Prime Aegean's defense. The entire planet and its four moons were one giant weapon, and in ages past when said weapon had been used, all it had left behind were whole galaxies decimated and forgotten. Without a doubt, there was a reason why their empire was feared across the known universe.
Either way, Deimos was the moon set aside for the siblings of the emperor. The moment a new emperor ascended the throne, all of his siblings and potential rivals were either shipped off to the front lines to die—if they were male—or sent up to the moon where they would be groomed for political alliances. Gilded cages for potential threats.
The problem, though, was that his so-called Grand Princess of Light did not exactly fit the norms.
For one, she was not just the sister of the emperor—she was his elder twin. She had been born a powerful Psionic, a Lumomancer capable of bending and controlling light from the very moment she was brought out of the womb. And then she had gone so far as to develop Far Seeing abilities, a rare gift that had seen her rise to become the Saintess and future Head Pontifex of the Order of the White Ones. The future spiritual leader of the empire.
The consequence of being born with such a bright future was that you overshadowed the one who was supposed to sit on the throne.
Of course, a woman had sat on the empire's throne many times before. Historical records proved that those times had even been the most prosperous. But those times were different from now. Power was everything—it was how the true game of the universe was played. And those without it found themselves incapable of deciding how their lives would go.
---
The elevator door slid open with a soft chime, and Orn stepped out onto the port.
The port here was not as lively as one would expect, which, frankly speaking, was understandable. Deimos was the most private of all the moons—this was where the emperor's immediate and extended families had come to live. And as such, over the years, it had become the place that represented the true powers of the empire. Every family that had been lucky enough to ascend to nobility due to marriage into the imperial household was represented here.
It made this place, as quaint as it looked, just as bloodthirsty and cutthroat as the Senate back on Aegean Prime.
Orn took a look around, raising an eyebrow in appreciation for the sheer amount of green and living plant material he could see. The moons were always advertised as literal paradises—from the tall trees to the birds of various sizes and shapes flying in the sky, to the crisp scent of nature that filled the air.
"Yeah, this is paradise all right," he muttered to himself as he shifted his gaze to the individual coming toward him.
The dead-eyed look on their face was enough to let him know that this was an android. Skin so pale it was almost translucent, her composition such that when the sun hit her body at certain angles, you could see her internal circuits and the bio-tech that powered and gave her a sort of pseudo-life.
He knew the android was here for him. After all, these half-machines, half-living beings were so expensive they cost the price of a standard small planet to own. And it didn't matter what empire you were from—planets were freaking expensive, even the small ones.
"Major Cornelius 'Orn' Reese?"
He had to hold back the urge to roll his eyes. His father had said that was childish, and given Orn's nonchalant way of living his life, that had been a bone of contention between them more times than Orn could count. But this was a whole other new game now. Husband of the Grand Princess. Husband to the future Pontifex of the Order of the White Ones. Brother-in-law to the emperor—though that was more likely to see him dead than honored.
Which brought him to the biggest problem with marrying Princess Kikian.
"That would be me, yes," Orn replied to the android as it bowed to him.
"Greetings, my lord. My name is Thirteen, and I am here to escort you home to the mistress."
Orn nodded his head as he turned to look at the space elevator one last time. If there was any time to back out of this death sentence, it was now. Of course, his father would end up a laughingstock in the whole galaxy and would fall very hard from his current position, but who could blame him?
Princess Kikian had married twenty-six husbands in her fifty-six years of existence.
And now here he was, about to become the twenty-seventh.
And then there was the age gap.
His father might have made it seem inconsequential, but still—the princess was more likely to live longer than him by centuries. She was an imperial with a bloodline that had been selectively and carefully bred over thousands of years. She would live at least until she was five hundred years old—at least. And that would be considered young for an imperial to pass.
Which was why this damn moon was also dangerous. There were other grand princesses and other family members of the old and new emperor here. The waters ran deep, and the games ran even deeper.
The android led him straight to a blacked-out hover car. It was probably the most luxurious thing he had ever ridden in, and he could very well be heading to his death, so he might as well enjoy the bloody ride.
---
The car rose above the tree lines, and from here, Orn could see the entire vista that stretched out in front of him. It was as if the people on this moon had chosen to live as close to nature as possible. Towers, spires, and many other domed structures could be seen dotting the landscape, right in the seemingly endless forest that stretched out in every single direction.
He could see an ocean in the east, just in the direction of the sun rising, releasing a warm glow and creating a beautiful sight for Orn to appreciate. He loved the sunlight—perhaps it had something to do with his own Psionic abilities, or perhaps not, but he loved the heat. It was only when he felt it that he knew he was truly alive.
He remembered back when he was undergoing evaluation the first time he had awakened as a Psionic. The doctor responsible had insisted that he be kept under watch and come in for regular reevaluation every three months. Apparently, he had psychopathic tendencies and maybe an arsonist trait, which would explain Pyromancy as an elemental Psionic ability. Apparently, Orn wanted to burn everything to ashes.
And then they'd discovered the Aeromancy.
That had nearly given the doctor a heart attack. Fire and Wind to give it power—a dangerous combination, no doubt, even though he was just a basic Psionic with control over the elements. These two together made it so that he was suited for nothing other than war, just like his father.
It was good, though. The galaxy knew him as Fire and Wind.
But he knew he was much more than that. More powerful. Something deeper.
---
The car shook violently.
Orn was bucked forward, his head smashing into the transparent barrier that separated him from Thirteen. He grunted in annoyance, about to tell off the android, when a buzzing sound whizzed past his window—close enough that he felt the vibration through the reinforced glass.
His attention snapped to the source. A trio of hover bikes had appeared, moving up and around the car with practiced precision. Their passengers were armed with weapons capable of discharging armor-piercing rounds—weapons that had no business being on Deimos.
"Thirteen, what's going on?" Orn asked, his voice sharp as he moved back into his seat and strapped himself in.
"Apologies, Master Orn," the android replied, her voice maddeningly calm. "It seems the assassination attempt came about earlier this time. Usually, they wait for the princess to get to know her suitors first before they're killed. Don't worry—I am currently following procedures and have sent out a distress signal. Please remain seated while I attempt serpentine and evasive maneuvers."
Orn raised an eyebrow. "Evasive maneuvers? You mean you've done this before?"
Before Thirteen could answer, one of the bikers raised their weapon and fired.
The impact was devastating. The round smashed into the side of the car with a thunderous crack, throwing it off its trajectory. The world spun as the car clipped the top of a domed building, then continued its erratic tumble over the treetops. Branches shattered against the reinforced hull. Orn's head slammed against the seat restraints hard enough to leave him dizzy.
The car finally came to a shuddering stop a few moments later as Thirteen regained control, the hover engines whining in protest.
"Go faster!" Orn yelled at the android, his heart pounding in his chest.
"But I will be breaking numerous traffic violations, Master Orn," Thirteen replied, her tone still infuriatingly even. "The traffic laws on Deimos are ironclad. My directives would not allow me to break any of those laws."
Orn cursed viciously. They might look and sound like people, but in the end, they were just machines—bound by programming, incapable of the kind of creative thinking that kept you alive in situations like this.
And there was no way in hell Orn was going to leave his life in the hands of an android.
It was obvious now how the other suitors had been assassinated. Either the damn princess was in on it—which seemed unlikely but not impossible—or she was surrounded by incompetent tools and people who were more concerned with protocol than survival.
But still, this was insane.
Before now, the princess had always married from the normal nobility—mostly sons of people in the Senate or members of the Senate itself. Powerful people. Influential people. Ambitious people. All of them would have had the power or the potential to back her claim if she wanted to make a play for the throne, especially with how loved she was by the common people.
Up until now, this was the first time she had chosen a husband from the military side of the empire. Generals—especially hero generals like George Reese—had reputations almost as storied as the princess herself. Their valiant battles and the victories they won for the empire were legendary.
But more than that, his father had an appetite and hunger for power that bordered on obsession. A seat in the Senate as the first still-active-duty general to achieve it—a soldier on the Senate without having to retire and become a civilian. That could only be achieved if George could punch above his weight.
Securing a marriage with the Grand Princess would have put everything in place. The death of his son would have opened up even more opportunities—a chance to take out perhaps a few rivals who would be conveniently responsible for this tragedy. Compensation from the emperor would guarantee a seat in the Senate.
Another round impacted the car, this time shattering one of the rear windows. Glass exploded inward, and Orn felt a sharp sting as a shard cut across his cheek.
"Master Orn, I must advise you to remain calm—"
"Override your damn protocols!" Orn roared, his voice filled with fury and desperation. "That's an order!"
But still, Orn didn't think his father was power-hungry enough to order his own son's death.
Of course, he wouldn't put anything past that old bastard.
But still, in the Aegean Empire, familial bonds and connections were sacred. Everyone had their role to play—a father, a mother, a sister, a brother, a husband, and a wife. It was the foundation the very empire was built on and served as the basis of their faith.
No Aegean father would kill his own child.
Right?
The hover bikes closed in, and Orn realized with cold certainty that he was about to find out.