Diana Aemilia found a restaurant downtown for a celebration, but she, her father, and Milana Nox were still too full from breakfast to eat much.
The host seated them in a prime spot in the middle of the airy bright space directly under a skylight that let the sunlight in as cheerily as ever and maybe even a slight bit eagerly considering it was hardly even supposed to be up yet.
They ordered cakes, coffee and tea, ignoring whatever was behind the early daylight that could in no way unnerve them or diminish their excitement, but when plates were cleared Mr. Aemilia had finished praising his daughter's genius and success and couldn't stop himself from returning to their conversation from the trolly.
"Someone told me the Constellation board meets for its annual election today," he said. "The electoral meeting is at crepesculum — although you might want to check the time since it seems the sun might set early too."
"Dad, I know about the meeting," said Diana.
"I wanted to make sure they invited you. It may be a formality to reelect Gaia Solin every year, but that doesn't mean you should give her your vote without thinking about it. And you certainly don't owe it to her. Your hard work and brilliance are a fair enough exchange for everything she's ever offered you.
"Constellation might be under better leadership with someone else. Someone willing to take a risk, to take the company in a different direction. Solin's way is reasonable, but there might be another. And it's not as if Gaia Solin hasn't made mistakes.
"I'd be interested to see what Sunyin Aura could do if she ran Constellation. She's young, but let off the leash she might be able to do great things for the empire. The way I see it, everyone should learn magic. It's an equalizer in my mind, we can't move fast enough to offer the opportunities open to magic practitioners to every citizen."
Fathers have a way of missing when their daughters agree just to make them stop talking. "You're right, Dad. I'll vote for Sunyin Aura. I don't owe President Solin anything and maybe it's time to take the company in a new direction . . . as long as I'm not the only person who doesn't vote for her."
"You might just be. Today it might be only you, but your vote is your voice, and it can send a message to the president: let everyone have magic, or one day, whether a year from now or a hundred, you will be overthrown."
"Well, I'll show my support for Sunyin Aura," Diana said again. "Even if President Solin got me where I am today. We live not for ourselves, and all that."
Mr. Aemilia was satisfied, and he finally stopped talking. The bill came and went and as Mr. Aemilia rose to leave, he said, "You are a principled young woman. I'm proud of you, Diana." He said goodbye and left them.
"Shall we go?" Milana asked when Diana remained in her seat.
"Not yet," Diana said, and she requested two coffees with cream liqueur from a passing waiter. His reaction was strange, as if he wasn't sure she was speaking to him, and he didn't acknowledge her order before he ran off. Diana was distracted for a second and wondered whether she should ask someone else; replaying the man's facial reaction in her mind she decided he was just bad with customers. With a shake of her head, she turned back to Milana. "Let's enjoy this a little longer," she said.
Milana grinned big. Their coffees came — relieving Diana's anxiety that they wouldn't — and the weird mute waiter left them alone again. Milana said, "Let me guess. You're going to disobey your father."
Eyes sparkling, Diana pretended to be offended. "Disobey? That's a strong word."
She reached across the table and playfully took Milana's hand. "You heard him say it himself — the vote is mine, and I earned it. He can't tell me what to do. A vote for Sunyin Aura is, unfortunately, a vote wasted. I have a voice but it's not my vote, I mean my literal voice — I can talk to President Solin about magic education without undermining her authority or risking the security of her presidency by splitting the vote — imagine if her supporters could be whittled away to the point someone like Justin Marius came out on top? It's not a good time to get rebellious."
Milana took a little sip from her cup and asked, "Why not tell your dad that?"
"Oh, you know him. He's so principled. He thinks everyone else has to be too. No, it's best to keep this between you and me." She winked, then added, "It's nice to have someone I can confide in. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Milana smiled back at her with no hint of a blush. Diana still held her hand, and she gave it a little squeeze.
The setting of the restaurant disappeared for Diana, the whole world just a backdrop to this moment and she could feel her own heart beating when she gazed into Milana's eyes. Everything she'd worked for, all the wealth and opportunity in the world was worth nothing without her.
That thought made her blush and she let go of Milana's hand, but instantly regretted it. It would be awkward now to take it again. But she was filled with longing. Why shouldn't she ask, in all seriousness, for her deputy, her right hand woman, to come and live with her? Milana could have her own space, entertain guests as she pleased, fill the house with noise and the smells of great cooking . . . It would work out perfectly.
But before she could ask, Milana was back on topic, offering invaluable advice as always. "If there's one true thing you told your dad it's that Gaia Solin doesn't get your vote just because she made you a board member. I say she should still have to earn it."
"That I can get behind," said Diana. "I just hope it's the right decision. Maybe Sunyin Aura really would be a smarter choice."
"It's a tumultuous time to be one of the few who get to make that kind of decision. I'm not sure how in touch Solin or your dad are with what the people are thinking. There's some unrest going unnoticed. Maybe the direction Constellation takes should be up to more of us or — here's a radical idea — all of us."
Diana was overwhelmed with admiration for her friend. She could have stared into her eyes forever . . .
Milana excused herself and got up from the table.
She had hardly gone a minute — not long enough for Diana to think twice of it — when a man took Milana's place at the table. A conspicuous guy — massive in both height and muscular width with a scarred face and ice light eyes, dressed in a leather jacket of exquisite quality over a silk shirt which, along with a gold chain around his neck, told Diana he was tough and well compensated for it.
"She's gone," he said without any introduction, and she didn't respond but her heart started to truly hammer without her knowing exactly why. She didn't know what he meant. Diana sat up straighter and glanced around and over her shoulder for Milana.
"Miss Milana Nox," the man said, and Diana was stunned, paralyzed in her seat. "She's gone and she will not be returned to you until you and I have come to an agreement."
A calm came over Diana that bewildered her as she made note of his features: the scarring along side of his face, thick golden brows and cropped hair, ice eyes, the boulder shape of his nose which she imprinted in her mind for a composite sketch — this guy would be easy to line up.
"How exactly do you plan to get away with that?" she asked.
"Are you threatening me?" He held up a gloved hand and said, "I snap my fingers and she's dead. My associates have taken her someplace safe, but by all means, go to the guardia."
His hand was still raised to give the signal. Diana held her tongue.
"Good choice," said the man. "Now listen closely, be very, very good, and maybe I'll consider letting Miss Nox live, just for you." His eyes said different. She would never forget those eyes as long as she lived.