Gen wiped her tears, and Aether knelt beside her and said, “An ambulance is coming.”

His words reversed the magic that had vanquished her worry, and she found herself grinding her teeth. This new agitation, directed at herself for using Ascending’s name to enter the gala, flared her protective instincts as if she needed to rectify the mistake. If he had entered the elite section, would he be not as hurt?

Mind required a healing pod, Gen told herself; and her brows wrinkled. Too many elites were injured, expending any hope of a medic admitting Mind into one. Instead, the ambulance would send him to a hospital to be treated by doctors—people who healed others for the sake of learning and improving technology. It was cheaper and used fewer resources, but he might die before arriving. And if Mind did survive, he’d have a mental breakdown on their “research” tables, and the pristine walls would imprison his sanity. He hated hospitals more than she did.

“He needs a healing pod.” Gen grabbed Aether’s shoulders, fingers squeezing his armor until they turned white. Aether was her only chance, and her eyes narrowed to ward off the answer of no. “Please.”

He nodded, and when he reached for Mind, Gen swatted his hand without thinking.

“Careful,” she said.

“He seems fine.”

“Fine?” Gen scoffed, completely abandoning Dessy and grinding her guise between clenched teeth. “How is this fine!”

“Calm, little lamb,” Umbra said. He leaned close to Mind’s nose, inciting Gen to lunge at him. Aether hooked an arm around her waist, restraining her.

“Hurt him, and I’ll kill you,” Gen said. Killing intent infused itself into her aura, and she pressured Umbra with it, threatening him and appeasing her own frustration. The man shivered then donned a large grin.

“Heh, spunky. Never knew you could be so ferocious.” Umbra rolled up Mind’s torn sleeve and smeared the blood with his fingers. No cuts.

Gen’s eyes widened, and as Aether released her, she slipped her fingers through the tears of Mind’s suit jacket and formal shirt. Sticky blood coated her nails, but his skin was smooth and he bore no wounds. Somebody had healed him... But who? And Why?

“I-I’m sorry,” Gen faked a stutter. A foreboding different from Mind’s death surfaced within her, replacing her agitation and forcing her brain to act. She was no longer clueless about Aether and Janus’s relationship; they were enemies—likely due to their rivalry to inherit the constellation. If Aether discovered someone had healed Ascending, her and Mind’s situation would turn precarious, especially so with the empress dowager watching. “I-I thought his aura break wouldn’t heal him if he fell unconscious. Please don’t tell anyone. He’s not registered.”

“An aura-breaker?” Umbra mumbled and rubbed his chin. “And a super-healer. Those are rare.”

“Don’t worry.” Aether scooped Gen into his arms, pulling her body away from Mind but not her eyes. His voice turned threatening: “Umbra will keep the secret. Won’t you?”

Umbra grinned. “Anything for my little lamb.”

“Not yours,” Aether said as a cold wind grazed Gen’s still-dampened cheeks.

Gen exhaled a long-held breath, allowing Dessy’s return as she comforted herself with the knowledge that Mind wouldn’t die. Body relaxing, she smiled and hooked her arms around the back of Aether’s neck. Her hands caressed his helmet, and she teased, “Then, am I yours?”

The kitchen warmed, but his voice was cold and stern. “No.”

“Then whose am I?” she asked. Her forefinger traced the crack in his face shield, and she wondered if he’d say something cliche like her being her own woman.

“I’ll introduce you to a good man.”

Gen’s face twitched. What the hell did that mean? Was he trying to marry her off to someone?

Carrying her, Aether went to pick up True Stiletto R but left the pistol on the ground. Gen pretended not to be disappointed, and she muttered a thank you when he handed her the shoe.

Aether whispered, “Later, I need to talk to you.”

She nodded then flinched upon seeing Umbra swing Mind over his shoulder. Her jaw clenched, and she flexed her abdominal muscles, hoping to vanquish the sudden urge to crack Umbra’s skull. Dessy, be Dessy, she repeated to herself. “Umbra, please handle him gently. Princess carry.”

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“For you, my little lamb.” Umbra wryly grinned then released Mind, letting him fall. At the last moment, he squatted and caught him in his arms.

Her lips twitched, and she repeated mantra after mantra: Dessy is an elegant woman, an elegant woman,... Umbra’s grin increased in size. Why had she ever thought him charming?

“Grandmother, leave everything to me,” Aether spoke. Gen turned her head; the empress dowager was staring at her. Her gaze, bearing neither malice nor goodwill, seemed perfectly indifferent, yet it hovered for too long. Goosebumps arose on Gen’s skin as the hairs on her neck stood on end.

“I’ll leave it to you, then,” assented the empress dowager. “Descending, visit me in three days time.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Gen bowed her head but planned to flee before then. Dessy was a fake; why make an appearance before the empress dowager if it didn’t help her seduce Aether? For respecting the Star Lines? Gen didn’t mind slighting the elderly woman. The empress dowager had slapped her first.

————

The weaponized fashion gala had officially ended during the attack, but Aether lingered to smooth it over as a terrorist attack—neither him nor Umbra mentioned Prince Janus.

Gen rolled her eyes. This was why she hated Star Line politics: all the star princes and princesses upheld the heroic image of their ancestors as their first priority. No matter how horrible the crime, the Star Lines, including those from other galaxies, would combine the force of their super-hackers to hide the information.

Like how it seemed only she knew Aether was a playboy. Somebody must have erased the evidence... If only Mind liked digging into secrets, then she’d have first hand proof of the star prince’s delinquency.

A small smile tugged at Gen’s lips. Aether moved slower than a dock peeling off a skyscraper, but he carried her in his arms and wrapped her with his warm aura. It filled her head with smugness and poisonous desires. She hid them, forcing herself to think of Mind and her ultimate goal of smashing Aether. And reminded of revenge...

Gen kicked her feet, splattering droplets of blood onto Reya’s face for the woman’s indifference towards Mind’s unconscious state. She thought, cruel princess, you should be happy I’m currently Dessy.

Having been reprimanded for earlier complaints, Reya growled but otherwise remained silent.

Gen flicked her ankles.

Shy about their recent engagement, Aether avoided Reya’s pout and told Gen, “I’ll bring you to the healing pod once my vehicle fetches it.”

“Thanks, dear, but as I’ve said, my feet are fine. It’s Ascending’s blood.” Gen squashed her desire to tell him about her ruptured eardrums, and she instead fluttered her lashes. Are you seduced yet? Her gaze drifted onto Mind, who Umbra still carried. She explained, “I’m worried for my brother’s head. He still hasn’t awakened.”

Umbra grinned. “Peeking at me again, little lamb? This is the twenty-third time.”

Gen blinked, saying nothing.

A medic approached them, and Aether brushed him off with two words, “good job.” Then, Fenri—unharmed due to his aura break that allowed him to phase through walls and whisk his sister to safety—addressed the medic. The pair spoke of remunerations, various logistics, and how one of the medics, despite having floor maps, had become lost after taking a few elevators.

Gen restrained a snicker. Dude, who took elevators? They were mazes, spanning limited floors and sections. They were especially horrid after a floor owner decided to remodel and block the door. Okay, she used elevators, but she preferred old-fashioned stairs, which remained straightforward due to the legacy laws pertaining to fire safety.

“Little lamb, what are you thinking?” Umbra slunk into her personal space, Aether’s too. Mind’s legs pressed against Aether’s armor, reminding the man that he shouldn’t freeze Umbra.

Dessy, remember Dessy; Gen wrinkled her brows. “I think my dear should carry Ascending. I trust him more not to drop him.”

Aether warmed, and Umbra pursed his lips. The latter spoke softly so the chatting medic wouldn’t hear, “Still using ‘dear’? We all know you have a deal with him.”

Inwardly chuckling, Gen formed an “o” with her mouth and said, “Really? Didn’t you prove that wrong?”

Umbra’s face darkened. Then he beamed, sending a shiver down Gen’s spine. “What about our kiss?”

Coldness nipped her, and she cursed both Umbra and herself. Why had she thought this man was charming? But at least he hadn’t stolen her first kiss... Oh, that didn’t seem like a bad lie to get Aether’s attention.

“Assault. You kissed me without permission,” she said. Tears spilled over her cheeks, dripping until they froze and shattered against the floor. Gen shuddered at the dropping temperatures. Jerk! Show some compassion.

“What, you—” Umbra’s mouth snapped shut, and his lips turned blue, arms shaking as he held Mind.

“Aether!” Gen slapped the man’s breastplate, and Aether turned his head and mumbled. What did he say? Her shoulder pressed into him, and she regretted her ruptured eardrums. If everything weren’t so muffled, would she have heard a “sorry”? Was Aether capable of saying that word?

Gen felt his gaze fixate on her, and she imagined his hidden expression. Unaware of their actions, her fingers trailed the edge of his helmet as her cheeks blushed. She fantasized about using a small dagger to pry his armor off his body, inserting the blade into thin slits like an assassin slipping a sword through one’s throat.

“Prince Aether,” Reya whined, causing Gen to frown at her ruined moment. “Don’t let her ogle you.”

Ogle? Gen jutted her chin, hiding her wounded pride: Dessy doesn’t ogle, only her true self.

Fenri’s wrist watch dinged, and he excused himself from the medic and checked it. He said, “Your Highness, your vehicle has arrived with the newest healing pod.”

Gen raised a brow. Newest healing pod? Is that why it took so long? Guh, this inconsiderate jerk. Her wounds weren’t as shallow as she had said; a former general should know better. Her lips pulled into a sly smile. Maybe she could place Mind inside and heal her legs afterwards?

A few scratches and scars meant nothing to her. She was a tough lady, but her brother was her one weakness—apart from handsome men.