★ Minerva ★

  Minerva Gray had never liked parties.

  She always put on a smile and did her best to enjoy them, but it felt inauthentic. She’d never understood how anyone could feel at ease in a social setting, especially in a room full of strangers. When she was a child, her parents had hosted lavish gatherings at their home, and she’d always found an excuse to leave early and retreat to her room to read a book. Her father didn’t seem to mind; he always accepted her explanation without question and let her go with a wink and nod. He understood.

  Things had changed dramatically after he died. Not only did the house have a haunting, hollow vacancy in his wake—echoes of the deep absence he left behind—but Minerva had been forced to step up and play hostess. Her mother would disappear for weeks at a time, often without a single word of notice, and Minerva became the default head of the household at the ripe old age of sixteen.

  This party tonight brought back all of those memories: the music, the casual conversations filling every corner of the room, the occasional round of raucous laughter from someone who’d had too much to drink, and the expectation that she'd be greeting all of them with a smile.

  None of it came naturally. She'd grown accustomed to putting on a mask of sorts—a steeled expression and an approachable demeanor—but in reality she had a reserved personality that had often been misinterpreted as rudeness. She found these interactions to be draining and stressful, and she was terrified of saying the wrong thing.

  And tonight, there were hundreds of people in attendance, all of whom wanted to speak to her.

  “You look lovely this evening,” a woman said—an officer’s wife clad in a ball gown, while Minerva wore the standard dress uniform with her hair drawn into a tight bun.

  “Thank you,” she said with a smile that was far from genuine.

  The woman smiled back and kept talking, too tipsy to notice.

  A pattern had emerged that evening—one Minerva had long since grown accustomed to. Most of the women in attendance were married to officers. She’d never really fit in among them, yet she’d never felt as if she belonged among senior leadership, either.

  They didn’t outright say she was unwelcome, but they certainly showed it. In her days as a junior officer, when returning from leave, she’d been stopped by security every single time. “Only service members beyond this point,” they’d say. “No families.” Over and over, she heard that phrase. One of them even had the gall to look her in the eye and say “your father’s rank doesn’t count, sweetheart.” Only when they saw her badge displaying her name and insignia did they change their tune and apologetically let her through. They might not have recognized her out of uniform, but they certainly knew who her grandfather was.

  And now, that badge would bear the mark of “general.“ She’d rarely ever be out of uniform, and the luxury of anonymity was long gone. A blessing and a curse, she thought.

  This party embodied everything she disliked about her new rank. She’d been the center of attention all night, but gradually made her way to the far corner of the room, where she had a bit more space and could avoid some of the more uncomfortable interactions. Here, she enjoyed a few minutes of solitude as she surveyed the partygoers, most of whom seemed seemed perfectly content to carry on without her as they chatted away and helped themselves to alcohol and appetizers. She assumed that whatever discomfort she felt was mutual—that wishing her congratulations was a formality at best and an inconvenience at worst.

  At this thought, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, savoring the silence while it lasted.

  “Minerva,” came a voice from behind her.

  She tensed slightly, dreading yet another stilted greeting, but as soon as she turned around and glanced over her shoulder, she relaxed.

  It was her uncle.

  “I don’t usually have to go looking for the guest of honor,” he said. “Took me a while to find you hiding over here.”

  Minerva simply shrugged, and her uncle took a long drink from the glass of wine he was holding. “I know how uncomfortable these events can be,” he said, ”but just so you know, half these people probably won’t remember anything that happens tonight, and if they do, you won’t be the first thing on their minds.”

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  She took a deep breath. “I’m not worried about it. Just bored.”

  He smiled. “Now that, I understand.” There was a long pause as he stared down at his glass and turned it in his hand, as if he was unsure of his next words. “While I've got you here, there’s something I wanted to tell you.”

  “Oh?”

  He took another sip of his drink, then studied the partygoers. “You look so much like your father. When I walked in and saw you standing there in that uniform, it took me back to his promotion all those years ago. It was like going back in time, if only for the briefest of moments.” He paused for a second. “He was nervous too. He’d never admit it, of course, but he had a tendency to disappear halfway through the night, just like you do. He didn’t even stay in the room—I’d usually find him hiding in a hallway somewhere.“

  For the first time all night, Minerva couldn’t help but smile.

  “I know it can feel overwhelming, but I’ve got full confidence in your abilities,” her uncle continued. “Just remember, nobody expects you to do this on your own. You’ll have advisors and assistants, and if that’s still not enough, don’t ever be afraid to ask for help.” He sipped his drink again. “Your father earned every bit of praise he ever received, but he had a whole team of people helping him, as well as your great-grandfather’s personal mentorship.” A slight frown crossed his face. “That’s the biggest injustice of all. He had James, while you’ve got…”

  He trailed off and glanced across the room, and Minerva followed his gaze. There, she saw her grandfather sitting at a table, regaling a group of officers with one of his many stories for what must’ve been the hundredth time.

  “Richard is who he is, for better or for worse,” her uncle said. “He’s done great things for the Corps, but he’s a nightmare to work with. We wouldn’t be where we are without him, but you’re going to have to learn to stand up to him. One of these days, he’s going to give you an order, and you’ll know it’s wrong. You might even have mountains of evidence supporting you, but he won’t hear it. His mind will be set, and he’ll be as nasty as ever.” He sighed. “I’ve had to tell Richard ‘no’ before. It wasn’t easy, and he hates my guts for it. He never stopped me, though, which means that some part of him, at least, recognizes when someone has his best interests in mind.”

  They were silent for a while, and her uncle took another long drink. “You’re awfully quiet tonight,“ he finally said.

  Minerva shrugged. “I guess I don’t have much to say. I'm just tired.“

  He studied her carefully. “I know people can change, but this is a far cry from the twelve-year-old who used to talk my ear off.“

  Minerva glanced around to ensure no one would overhear, then smiled and lowered her voice. “You mean back when I was a junior cadet, and I spent hours at a time in your office?”

  He grinned back. “I thought you’d never leave.”

  She shrugged. “It was the only place I could go where I wasn’t getting yelled at.”

  “Still holds true today, doesn’t it?” Her uncle’s smile faded. “The stakes may higher, but otherwise, not much has changed. Any time you need me, my office door is open.”

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  He nodded back. “I always tried to be there for you. It felt like it was never enough, but I always tried to carve out time, especially when...” He trailed off. ”I’m sorry I keep bringing up your father. What I'm trying to say is that I know you might be afraid to ask for advice sometimes, but don’t be. If you need something, you know where to find me.”

  Minerva smiled again. “You say that right as you’re about to leave for several weeks.”

  “It’s just a routine trip,” he replied. “I’m trying to switch to a lighter schedule. I’m getting too old to be traveling this much. But regardless, I’ll be back soon.”

  Minerva nodded. “Where are you going?”

  He sighed. “Officially, it’s classified. But unofficially, I have to figure out whatever the hell your cousin’s gotten himself into.”

  “Still no sign of the Horizon, then?”

  He shook his head. “It’s been over two weeks. Still no word. If the scouting drones don’t find anything soon, there’s talk of launching a manned on-site investigation.”

  “Hopefully it won’t come to that.”

  “It probably will,” he replied tersely. “Deep space vessels rarely go missing, and when they do, there’s evidence of what happened. This one’s different. As far as we can tell, they just vanished without a trace, and we've still got no clue why.”

  Minerva looked away. “I imagine they’ll find them before you have to get involved. Good luck, though.”

  “Thanks. I've got a feeling we’ll need it.” He took a deep breath, then flashed a reassuring smile. “How about this—I’ll go ahead and book us a reservation at the StarView a few days after I get back. We’ll have lunch, and we can do some catching up. You’ll be almost a month into your promotion by then, and you can tell me how it’s going.”

  Minerva returned a polite nod. “I’d like that.”

  Her uncle nodded back, and his gaze drifted to the bar.

  “I should be going now,” he said. “Some of these people are my friends, if you can believe it, and I only see them once every few months. They’ll be upset if I don’t say something to them while I’m here.”

  Minerva nodded. “I understand. Go enjoy the rest of your evening.”

  “You too,” he replied. But then he reached over and took a glass of champagne from an unattended tray. “Here. Congratulations. Go enjoy yourself”

  She studied it for a moment, then shook her head. “No, thank you.”

  But he held it out to her with a knowing look. “You’re going to need it.”

  She took a deep breath, then reached out and took it.

  “I’ll see you when I get back,” he said with a parting nod as he turned around and walked away.

  And just like that, she was left standing there alone once more.