Walking down the gold-trimmed halls, red carpets beneath our feet and polished black marble underfoot, I couldn't help but stare. Everything shimmered. Paintings of people and places I didn't recognize lined the walls, framed in gold leaf and flanked by sculptures—humans, beasts, buildings—some too strange to name.
"No one past this point but Star Pilots," Field Marshal Excav announced, halting his group of aides and, by extension, us.
"I guess this is our stop," Nicole sighed. She leaned close and whispered, "We'll meet you at the banquet. Try and land another punch on the marshal for me, if you get the chance."
"Okay. See you then." I nodded and tugged Alex along, Traveler trailing just behind us.
"That includes you, Traveler. This is procedure." Excav's sharp voice rang out again as he poked a firm finger into Traveler's chest, halting his stride. I paused, a little surprised—he wasn't a Star Pilot? After all the rumours Sam told me, I had assumed he was one.
"I'm exempt, Danny. Remember?" Traveler patted the marshal's shoulder with that ever-casual smugness. "Just because I'm not here most of the time doesn't mean I forgot the perks. I'm the royally appointed Rover, after all. Since you're clearly more interested in escort duty than palace defence, maybe Boötes' pilot should take over your job. If not, I'd suggest you head back to it."
"One of these days I'm going to rip out your tongue," Excav hissed.
"I'd just grow a new one. You know this. Try to keep up." Traveler winked and waved as he strode past, motioning for us to follow. "That proud fool never fails to remind people of his title. Expected from Leo's pilot, I suppose. Anyway, what do you think of that offer, Ghost? Becoming chief guardian?"
"I-I'm not fit for the role," Alex said, hesitating. "If anything, Firefly would probably be better."
"Yeah, no, she wouldn't," Traveler replied, firm and flat, clearly to tease. "She's always leaned toward destruction and liberation. Never been the defensive type. That fight with Danny should've made that obvious. Wouldn't you say?"
"I'm not really sure." Alex scratched his cheek awkwardly.
Thinking back to the orbital cannon on Duradel, how I tore through defences almost alone, I knew what he was thinking—and so did he.
Alex tried to stammer a safer answer. "She might do well. Who knows."
"You've terrified the poor kid, haven't you?" Traveler chuckled. I retaliated by squeezing his hand as hard as I could. He didn't even flinch. "That's cute of you."
I pouted, glaring up at him. "How long are you staying?"
"Just until tomorrow's banquet. I have to head back to the Obscure Quadrant frontlines after that. With most of the military tied up fighting Freiheit's surprising strength, dealing with the Dream Swarm has gotten... difficult."
"Oh." I sulked at the answer. "W-Why are you on Vistella, then? If the Dream Swarm's pressing so hard?"
"My partners were whining for festival food," Traveler replied with a sigh like it gave him a headache. "And when I heard you were coming, I figured I'd see what game Leo's pilot would play on you. Boringly enough, it was the same one he tried on Draco and Ara's pilots last week."
I hadn't realized they had already arrived. That made me feel a little less like the test subject of the week.
We came to a large door—iron trimmed with dark wood and ornate patterns carved deep into its frame. Traveler rapped on it with his bandaged knuckles. "Knock knock," he said right before pushing it open. "I bring you two stars, Your Majesty."
The room beyond was a regal office, light filtering in through a massive window that overlooked the golden spires of the capital. Behind the desk stood a woman, glancing up from paperwork.
She was beautiful. That was my first thought. Not like the soldiers I was always surrounded by—scarred, tired, hardened. She looked like someone from a different world. Her face was perfect, her presence commanding even in just a sweater and jeans. Her navy-black hair shimmered in the sunlight, and her blue eyes held a calm, unfathomable depth. She didn't look like royalty—yet everything about her radiated it.
"Thank you, Traveler," she said warmly, rising from behind her desk. "Danny's not behind you, is he? He always complains when I don't wear the royal uniform, even when I'm just handling legislation."
"I ditched him, Lucione," Traveler said casually, closing the door behind us.
The empress.
The Empress.
My spine locked up. My thoughts spun out. How was I supposed to greet her? Salute like military? Stand straight like a civilian? Jason had explained noble etiquette once, but I'd never expected to need it.
"G-greetings, your majesty!" I snapped into a salute, unsure what else to do. Alex followed my lead, stiff and awkward, but sincere.
"Please relax, Pilot Firefly. Pilot Cyonis," Empress Lucione said, her voice carrying the effortless warmth of someone used to command. "This is an informal greeting. After all, you saved my little brother's life, Pilot Firefly. I wasn't able to thank you properly before for that... so here."
She gestured to Traveler, who stepped forward and handed me a small ornate box.
"I've been waiting to give it to you in person," she added, smiling gently.
"I-is it alright if I...?" I asked, hesitating.
She nodded.
Opening the box, I froze. Inside was something I never thought I'd see: a pass—sleek, marked in silver and gold, unmistakable. A free access key to the imperial vault and the experimental weapons development centre. The place where the best of knight weaponry was stored, tested, and sometimes born.
"This..." My voice caught, reverent. "I'll treasure this blessing. I swear I'll make the most of it, your grace."
"It seemed like something a knight like you would appreciate," Lucione said, the corners of her perfect lips lifting. I noticed, for the first time, the small mole beneath her left eye. "There's another gift prepared for you, but you'll have to wait until the ordainment."
"This—this is already more than enough. I couldn't ask for anything more."
"You don't have a choice," she said, laughter bright behind her words. "You saved a member of the imperial family. If I reward you so handsomely, just imagine how fiercely the rest of my soldiers would fight for me should I find myself in danger."
"...Ah. I understand, my empress." A political gesture. Tactical. She was ensuring her hero was seen, celebrated. Loyalty through admiration and envy. 'Beauty and genius,' I thought. 'She's incredible.'
Turning her attention to Alex, who had been quiet and red-faced the entire time, Lucione smiled again—softer now.
"As for you, Pilot Cyonis," she said, "I personally sent a request to General Rafellan to have you attend this ceremony. I never received a reply, so I assumed you couldn't come due to the war effort. Thankfully, General Benjaminz approved your attendance in Rafellan's place. Otherwise, all the preparations would have gone to waste."
Alex blinked, stunned. "Y-you mean... I'm part of the ceremony too?"
"Of course. Every eight years, whenever a new Star Pilot assumes control of a Constellation Knight, we celebrate them. You'll be honoured alongside the others."
Her words hung in the air for a beat before she added, "In fact, there's a fifth Constellation Knight you both wouldn't know about yet—appeared only four months ago. There was some chaos, but my adjutants resolved it swiftly."
She rummaged through a drawer, pulled out a black card, and pressed a button on it.
"Send an escort to my office for the two Star Pilots. We'll begin the float parade at two o'clock."
Alex scrambled between a bow and a salute, landing somewhere in the middle. "Th-thank you, your majesty!"
Lucione chuckled. "It's quite alright. Just remember—after the parade, there will be etiquette training for the banquet tomorrow evening. I expect to see you both looking very dashing." She paused, teasing. "Perhaps one of you will even have the honour of escorting me. Who knows?"
A knock came at the door. "Your majesty, the escorts for the Star Pilots have arrived."
That was fast. Barely thirty seconds since the call.
"Thank you. You may go now—I must return to my duties." She looked to me once more, and her expression shifted, all warmth swept away. "Ah, but Pilot Firefly... do understand, my brother's offer of marriage is very much impossible."
I flinched, recalling that awkward conversation with the prince—and Sam's crude explanation of what marriage entailed. "...I understand fully, your majesty. Thank you for your mercy."
Traveler chuckled and gave a lazy wave. "See you tomorrow night, Firefly. Her majesty and I still have business to tend to."
"Bye, Dad." I winced slightly at the parting, a bitter sting in my chest. We'd only just reunited, and already I was being ushered out. Still, I was grateful—just seeing him again, hearing his voice, was a balm.
As Alex and I followed our escorts through the polished marble halls of the imperial palace, I whispered to the platinum beetle on my belt buckle, "Sorry I couldn't introduce you to him, Andy. I'll try to make it happen tomorrow night."
[It is unnecessary, Pilot Firefly.] Andromeda's voice hummed in my head, composed as always. [The Traveler is well received by her majesty. That alone is proof enough of his trustworthiness.]
Slightly disappointed by the response, I sulked. Alex, meanwhile, looked like his brain might just overheat and crash entirely. His eyes twitched, and then—"Marriage?!"
"I would prefer not to talk about it," I muttered, tone flat. "It was an... uneducated part of my life."
"But what happened!?"
I didn't answer. Not during the whole escort to the garage, not even a glance in his direction. He looked ready to implode from the sheer weight of unspoken curiosity. Eventually, we were separated—led to opposite sides of the garage.
I was guided to a booth near the reinforced main door, where a chair awaited me. I sat, only to be ambushed by a woman who snapped on a pair of gloves with far too much enthusiasm.
"Alright~. Let's make you look pretty for the public, okay hun?" she sang, fingers instantly tangled in my hair. "What makeup would you like? Autumn Gold, Winter Shadow, ooh! Emerald Lover, maybe?"
"...Makeup?" I asked, uncertain of the term.
She gasped, scandalized, and dramatically pulled out a bright pink vial from a drawer. "You don't know what makeup is?! Darling, you've been living in darkness! But don't worry. I'll bring you into the light—by the time I'm done, you'll never want to go a day without it again!"
"Is it necessary?"
"For a lady? Of course!" she huffed, popping the vial open—unleashing a rancid, chemical stench. Thank the Empress, she set it down... only to grab a sponge coated in powder.
"...Is it necessary for soldiers?" I asked, leaning out of the way as she lunged forward with the sponge. She didn't answer. Instead, she doubled down, trying to pin me in the chair as I effortlessly dodged each attempt like a trained acrobat.
Andromeda chimed in, [It is useless for you, Firefly.]
"Ugh! Just let me bedazzle you so the float's ready on time!" The woman was clearly losing her patience. She swung blindly, hoping to land a hit with the sponge.
I ducked under the wild arm, slid off the chair, and snapped my pilot helmet on to protect my face. "I'll just wear this instead. Sorry for wasting your time!" I bolted.
"Wait! Take the helmet off—you'll look so much prettier with makeup, darling!"
I ran through the maze of floats and workbenches, eyes locking onto a familiar blonde head.
"Sam!" I sprinted over, grabbed his shoulders, and placed him firmly between me and the makeup witch. "Oh, Firefly? What's—what's going on!?"
"This woman is trying to put smelly substances on me! Also, it's good to see you again, Samuel."
The artist came charging after me. "You're the eye of the parade, darling! You need to look your best!"
Sam and I dodged to the side in unison—just in time for the woman's sponge to smack into someone else's face.
"Ack!" came the cry, followed by a coughing fit. The powder cloud cleared... and my stomach sank.
Of all the people it could've been.
"I'm not hurt! No worries—my surprise is ruined now, but oh well."
The voice was all teeth and sweetness. Grinning like a predator, the girl who'd once tried to keep me as a stuffed toy emerged from the haze.
"It's been a while, hasn't it, cutie?"
"Hey, Freya," Sam said in my place as I froze behind him, trembling. I used him as a human shield.
"...Can someone tell me why I've been promoted to meat shield?"
"You can go," Freya waved the artist off with casual dominance. "I'll handle her."
The woman looked hesitant, but obeyed, scuttling back to her booth. Freya leaned in, fingers twitching toward the edge of my helmet. "Firefly~, do you know how hard it was to get that makeup artist for you?"
"No. Nor do I want your affection," I snapped, grabbing Sam and spinning him between us again.
Freya pouted, still grinning. "You wound me."
Trying to buy me some distance, Sam asked, "What are you even doing here, Freya?"
Her grin grew devilish. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, beetle-shaped device—gleaming blue in the overhead lights of the garage. "Guess who got a Constellation Knight of their own?" she giggled. "Teehee."