Lio shimmied his hips, trying to wiggle into obscenely tight leather pants. He hopped up and down on the dais in his closet, the folding mirrors adjusting to keep up with his movement. Hungover and trapped by the shins in what appeared to be a leather wetsuit was not the way he wanted to start this morning. Or afternoon. Whatever it was. Surrendering, he kicked his way free of the slick material and sent the pants flying across the closet. A butler bot snagged them midair and folded them neatly, shuttling them into a waiting drawer.

Appealing as his ass looked in leather, it was the wrong for Starmesa. Too hot, and not in a good way. He didn't exactly thrill at the thought of flopping out of the damn things in front of someone else, or trying to smash back into them the morning after to make a quick getaway. Highly impractical. At least he'd realized before he had to slip out someone's bedroom window.

Yawning, he snapped his fingers for his travel outfit. The trip back to the Fennec region gave him more than enough time to decide what he was wearing to Starmesa later. The butler bot dropped a tunic over his head and he stepped into a billowy pair of pants before stumbling out of the closet and past his bed, into the attached sun-room.

The same palms and tropical flowers that he had planted as a child basked in the early afternoon sunlight, mist filtering among blossoms and broad leaves that towered over the lounging chairs. It was all so much bigger than he remembered. He'd only been in the confines of his tiny room at Opalina for eight months, and already the rooms where he had spent his childhood felt unfamiliar, recognizable but too expansive to be comfortable.

His plan of sleeping in had worked. Alright, so it wasn't exactly a plan, and he was currently supposed to be on the train back. But having overslept meant that most of his family was gone already, run off to command the universe or whatever their latest projects were, and he had escaped a continuation of the dreadful conversations from the party last night. Lio had been very near to dumping the punch bowl over his brother's head if he heard the phrase "consider your future" one more time. He hummed his way downstairs and followed the smell of fresh breakfast onto the eastern porch.

A delightful spread awaited him, tamales, plantains, a fried egg that looked like a jewel, nutty tea calling his name—

"Finally out of bed."

Lio squawked and whipped away from the table to see Alina emerge from behind a pillar like a very stylish assassin. "I was beginning to worry you'd died up there," she said.

First Goddess damn her and her lurking. He swiped his hair out of the way to dispel his nerves, and brandished a teaspoon. "Shouldn't you be off running a shipping empire?"

"I'm working from here for the day. Mamina and I need to discuss—" She waved a hand, polished nails catching the light. "But you're not interested in that. I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh." He levered a bit of everything onto his plate and backed away from the table. "Well, the thing is, I'm already running behind, and I really can't get another write-up for returning late from dispensation."

Alina crossed her arms. "Lio, this is getting out of hand, and you know it. You can't stay at that little scrap-yard outpost forever."

"Mamina promised me at least a year." He hated that it sounded petulant, almost whiny. Twenty-four years old, and the mere sight of his older sister reverted him back by at least ten years. He shifted back onto his heel, easing another step to the door.

"It's practically been a year already."

"No, it hasn't." Eight months very nearly was a year but disagreeing with Alina was his tradition. He was the high priest of arguments that need not exist, and his sister the ritual sacrifice. Another slinking step backward. The doorway had to be close now.

"Lio, stop sneaking away! I'm just trying to help you prepare for the future. If you leave it all until the last—"

His heel dipped over the threshold, into the hallway. "I really do have to run. Send me a missive? I promise I'll get back to you on the train."

"Lio!"

He ducked and bolted with his plate balanced in his hand, dashing in a crooked path down the marble halls as if pursued by an enemy copter squadron rather than a shouting older sister. With a sister as bullish as Alina, it was practically the same damn thing.

The best part of his private train was the bathing suite, and he indulged in a long soak while the landscape beyond the tinted windows shifted from the steel canyons of the city buildings to quaint towns speckled among fields and green-house orchards. Skin scrubbed and scented, he wrapped himself in a towel and swayed into another closet. After another hour of flinging outfits aside, he finally settled on an iridescent black shirt that threw fractals through the waning sunlight and a pair of pants that slashed low across his hips. Not as tight as the leather, but still appropriately clingy in the right places.

Once the train cut through Bastonar and past the crumbling cliffs that formed the desert's eastern border, he cuffed his holowatch to call Taksha.

"Hello-o-o?" Her image projected next to him. She had some absurd setting on her image, and her eyes were overlarge and impossibly glassy. Combined with the elaborate fascinator in her hair, she looked like a fevered unicorn. "Lio! Are you here?"

"Still an hour away, on the train." He sat at his mirror station and uncapped the eyeliner he'd borrowed from Alina. Which he'd forgotten to put back in her bag. Might as well make use of it.

"Do you think you'll have time for a drink first?"

"Of course." He closed one eye and drew a thin silver line along his eyelid, just a glimmer. "Meet you at the station?"

"Definitely. And...so you're aware, Bec couldn't come. I invited a few of my friends from Institute."

He jerked away from the mirror and fixed her with a sharp look, jaw tight. "You didn't tell them about my family, did you?"

"I might have mentioned it—"

"Taksha!" All his calm from the bath fled.

"They'll be great, Lio, I promise. It's only two of them, and they're from high-ranking families, so it won't be a big deal to them." Her giant brown eyes blinked eyelashes that had their own wingspan. "Missive me when you're pulling up to the station?"

"Fine." He huffed and jabbed the holowatch to end the call.

They had known each other since childhood, but he wasn't certain that meant he could trust Taksha's friendship now. Hopefully, she knew better than to use him as bait. He finished with the liner and puckered his lips at his reflection. If they all turned out to be terrible social climbers ready to dig their claws into him, he'd lose them in Starmesa.

He tried to distract himself with one of his readings on the Mastali for the remainder of the trip, but it was difficult to focus. Maybe he should return to Opalina within his dispensation hours. Make it back on time for once. But he'd been looking forward to Starmesa for a fortnight.

Even hoping for the best, his stomach knotted as his train glided into the station. The knots bulged into his throat when he spotted Taksha standing on the platform surrounded by a lot more than two people. There were at least twelve of them, all decked out in feathers and sparkling skinpaint, loud and rambunctious already. First Goddess damn them. He braced both hands on the nearest walls and waited for the door to spring open as the train stopped.

Taksha rushed forward as soon as she saw him. Her strained smile mirrored the expression he composed for himself. Fringe flew up around her as she reached to pull him into a quick hug. "A few more people joined," she muttered in his ear.

"Imagine that." He bared his teeth in a wider smile. The cloud of piranhas surged forward and engulfed him in a flurry of names and introductions. Half of them tried to list out their entire lineage, as if he ought to be impressed that their great-grandmother was an advisor to the All-Territories Council, or that so-and-so's cousin was friends with his brother. Taksha owed him for making him endure this. Judging from the miserable look on her face, she knew it, too.

A pointy-chinned man with platinum hair shellacked to his scalp took charge. He clapped his hands to get the group's attention. "Time for food and a little joyjuice before Starmesa! Everybody find a hov, and we're off to Dona Ferdina's!"

First goddess, walking into Ferdi's with this group was not how he wanted to be known in town. He needed to be on the other side of the desert if anyone planned to waltz up to Ferdi's bar and ask for "joyjuice." Before he could slink away or fake a seizure, the blond grabbed him by the arm and towed him toward a line of hovs. "You can ride with me, Lio."

He wedged into a hov alongside far too many people. One girl tried to sit in his lap, but the blond shunted her into another seat and slid over, squashing up against him.

"Oh, hello." The blond patted his knee, and Lio flicked an elbow into the man's ribs, eliciting a pained grunt from his overly-familiar neighbor.

"Sorry," he said, banishing any real apology from his voice. "Tight quarters."

"Don't worry about it," the blond wheezed.

They'd forgive him anything, these desperate types. The man smiled broadly. "So...you're at the Fennec ziggurat? I've heard Archcom Huseda is pretty tough."

He made a noncommittal sound. Let them believe he was stationed at the ziggurat. He didn't want any malfing fools hiking up into the mountains to ruin Opalina for him. The only good thing about any of this was that Ferdi's was so close to the train station, which ensured the ride was short. He was able to avoid most of the blond man's attempts to start a conversation.

This sort of person had flickered in and out of his life since he was a child and first realized it was possible for people to fake everything in an attempt to win his favor and use it for their own gain. He tuned out the prattle and waited for the hanging planters and bright flags that hung from Ferdi's edifice to appear.

The hov was still pulling into a port when he kicked the door open and lunged out into the desert heat. It hit him like a wall, warmth crackling in his lungs. A few more hours and the temperatures would drop, but the night was still too fresh to be bearable. He strode toward Ferdi's main entrance and the sanctuary of air conditioning.

Unfortunately, the blond was on his heels, and the rest of the parade caught up soon enough. They dragged a bunch of tables together and took over one corner, earning a few dark glances from the waitstaff. No doubt they were being cursed under the eye of all the sister goddesses. Ferdi's was deliciously old-fashioned, and bot servers were nary to be found. One of the many things he loved about it. That, and the beds in the upstairs rooms, fluffed to perfection.

"Lio!" A woman whose name he'd forgotten handed him a foaming brew. "A toast to your—"

"To my kneecaps," he blurted, before she said something mortifying that could be overheard by the locals. There were a few other occupants in the room, a couple mopping at a toddler's face, two old regulars on stools at the bar, and a man nursing a brew in the opposite corner.

The blond let out a braying laugh. "Your kneecaps! So funny!"

It really wasn't.

"What's it like dealing with Archcom Huseda?" the woman who'd bought his drink asked. That had to be the third or fourth time he'd fielded the question since the train station. "She's probably a bit more lenient with you, right?"

He smiled politely, but Taksha saved him from the injustice of answering. He scooted to the edge of the last table in the row, with the blond shoving people aside to stay at his elbow. Lio twisted away, scanning the rest of the bar for some suitable distraction. Maybe he could offer to go help with the toddler.

Or he could join the old men on the stools and order them all a round of sherry while they complained about the young folk disrupting the town and leaving feathers everywhere like molting chickens.

His gaze returned to the man in the corner. Even if he hadn't been quite this desperate, the stranger was worth a second look. Dark eyes, warm brown skin, hair close-shaved in the cut of a career Enforcer. His uniform was neatly pressed, with the added benefit of being stretched across a broad set of shoulders. In a just world, those shoulders would be freed from the straining fabric.

Another blast of laughter echoed from the blond man, and the Enforcer glanced over. His eyes narrowed in annoyance until his gaze found Lio, who grinned wildly at him. The man's gaze shot back to whatever he was reading, but Lio kept watching. The longer he stared, the better the opposite corner seemed. That Enforcer looked like he smelled good. Should've worn the leather pants after all.

His skin tingled when the object of his attention peeked back up at him, just long enough for another startled glimpse that ended too quickly. Definitely interested. Maybe not entirely comfortable with that interest, but he could be encouraging. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt back to his elbows, aware of the way the Enforcer's determined gaze stayed away from him.

"So, Lio—" Someone tapped his shoulder, but he didn't look around.

"Be right back." He plucked his drink off the table and headed for the opposite corner. "Maybe," he finished, under his breath. If he had any luck at all, the night had just taken a much-needed turn for the better.