Chapter Eighty - The Flavor of Failure

"What do you mean?" Ivil asked.

She wasn't unfamiliar with failure, but it had been some time since it had last flavoured her life.

Aurora glanced around them. They were in one of the wider corridors linking several stations together. There were some docks nearby, and Ivil had been under the impression they were heading that way before Aurora had stopped.

"This... this not-a-date we're going on," Aurora said as she gestured between the two of them. "It's a farce."

"How is it a farce?" Ivil asked. "I am not pretending to be interested in you."

Aurora scoffed. "As blunt as always, Miss Ville," she said. "But no, that's... that's not what I meant. It's not you who is an issue, it's... it's me."

"Is this a rejection?" Ivil asked.

"Yes."

"No," Ivil said. "I'm not sure I want to be rejected."

Aurora crossed her arms. "I don't think that's how it works."

"Sure it is," Ivil said. "Why am I being rejected, exactly?"

"I told you, it's me, not you." She gestured vaguely in Ivil's direction with a hand. "You have been very... good. Strange, yes, but frank and honest. I would be lucky to find a partner like yourself. I'm certain that Twenty-Six will be a very happy girl."

"You still haven't explained yourself," Ivil said.

"I don't want to," she replied.

Ivil considered that for a moment. On the one hand, she couldn't force Aurora. Not without harming her and their relationship. On the other hand, "I don't accept that answer," Ivil said slowly, each word measured.

"You're being far less romantic when you're so pushy," Aurora warned.

"And yet you've decided that romance is over. A choice that I categorically disagree with. Hence, I'd appreciate it if you could explain. What did I do wrong? What can I do to fix things? Please?"

Aurora eyed her for just a moment, but her gaze never met Ivil's. "I said. It's not you Evelyn, it's me. Or my family, I suppose."

"Then I'll get rid of them," Ivil said.

Aurora shook her head. "Don't be that way. This isn't a problem you can solve with violence."

Ivil was tempted to be glib and say that there were few problems that couldn't be solved with violence, but she chose not to be so dismissive. Aurora was genuinely concerned, and that deserved a genuine reply. "I'm sorry. You might be right. But truly, communicate with me. Please?"

Aurora might have felt her honesty, or maybe she just wanted to tell Ivil to begin with and just needed a push. In either case, she nodded, then looked around them. They were gathering some attention, more for having stopped in a corridor with no signs that they intended to move.

"Come, let's... there's a cafe over there."

Ivil followed. The cafe was a small space, entirely unworthy of note. Just a rest-stop for commuters with a young man behind the counter looking like he despised his work and a small line of people waiting for their drinks.

They weren't bothered as they took some seats near the back, next to a row of vending machines. It was cramped and the space smelled like artificial sweeteners and grease, but they sat across from each other anyway.

Aurora was quiet for a while, then she spoke. "I want to be angry at you, you know? But... we had these courses on Phobos, for the young nobility. I think half the kids there slept through them but I loved those classes. They were on psychology."

Ivil nodded.

"Anyway. They mentioned that when you do something to harm someone, there's a defence mechanism that can activate in your mind. A trick of the brain. It looks for reasons to make it so that you can blame the other for your own faults. It's something we were told to watch out for in our subordinates, because that might cause them to report things incorrectly. We were never taught to apply that reasoning to ourselves."

Aurora locked her lips and finally met Ivil's eyes.

"I want to blame you for my problems, Evelyn, even if I know it's not right."

"I don't mind, not that much," Ivil said.

"Hmm, maybe that makes you a better person than me."

"I very truly doubt that," Ivil replied. She carefully reached across the table and wrapped a hand over Aurora's. "What is it?"

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Aurora looked at their hands for a moment before replying. "I'm not on this diplomatic mission because... my parents want me to be. In fact, my family is very much opposed to it. The Sterlingworth family is on a decline and has been for some time. My uncle, the heir, is... a fop. He wasted away a lot of the money and prestige that my grandparents earned. My own parents are better, but not by too much. I think I've heard this referred to as the three generation problem?"

"I'm familiar," Ivil said. It was part of an old proverb. The first generation of a family would make the wealth, the second would spend it, and the third would see none of it. In this case, Aurora was that third generation.

"Well, a solution to that problem is tying the Sterlingworth's to another family or two. I have a cousin who did just that. She married into one of the other noble families around Phobos."

"Happily?" Ivil asked.

"Killed herself a year later."

"Ah."

Aurora shrugged. "I don't want that for myself. So when I saw an opportunity, I took it. If I establish myself as a valuable diplomat for Phobos, then I'm set. That was my thinking."

"It seems reasonable."

"It's not. It's stupid, wishful thinking. No matter how valuable I am as a diplomat, that value is personal. It's not tied back to the family except tangentially. It won't be enough to escape the constant push to be married. Worse, if the family decides that my constant refusal is too much and they cut ties, then I'm... screwed, for lack of a better term."

"And this prevents us from being a thing... how?"

"Because even if I do find your company quite enjoyable, and your brute charm somewhat endearing, you aren't a Phobian noble. My family wouldn't accept this. There's no political value in being with you, so it would be wasted."

Ivil blinked.

Well, there was one simple solution to this.

"Aurora. There is not a single person around Mars that has more political strength than I do. So please, let's go to this dance where you can amaze some fools with your wit and I'll amaze them by having you on my arm, and then we can continue and see where this all takes us."

Aurora smiled slightly. "You're strong, I'll grant you that, and maybe that would be enough, but personal strength isn't everything."

"It's a lot though, especially when you reach the top."

Aurora sifted. "I suppose one dance couldn't hurt."

Such a simple sentence shouldn't have been enough to light a supernova in Ivil's chest, but it was, and that burning star only grew brighter when Aurora spared her a smile. It was one part sad, but many more parts hopeful.

She stood, then extended a hand to Aurora who took it.

They both casually ignored the wage slave who reminded them that they couldn't use the cafe without paying for something as they walked out towards the docking bay across the station.

Aurora seemed determined not to talk about anything important as they found their way to a well-guarded dock leading to a pleasure yacht. A scan by some guards and they were let into the yacht. It was large, even by the standards of Phobian nobility, with elegant curves and wide windows affording a view of Callisto below and the stars beyond.

"No more running," Ivil said once they were done with the pleasantries of meeting the busybodies that lingered by the entrance. "One dance."

"One dance," Aurora agreed.

There were already a few sparse couples occupying the ballroom floor. Ivil placed a hand on Aurora's waist, gently, but firmly, holding her close. For a moment, they just stood there, but then Aurora placed a hand on Ivil's shoulder, and took the first step.

Ivil smiled, and with a small push from Aurora, they began to move. Slowly at first, both unsure, but gradually their steps fell into a rhythm, the world outside spun gently, stars slipping by and strangers staring, but none of that mattered.

Aurora rested her head against Ivil's shoulder, and Ivil's breath was filled with the scent of her perfume. She found herself... not speechless, but unwilling to speak.

For now, nothing truly needed to be said.

***