Tea and Sugar

By Camille Esther

I stared at the looming sphere of Earl Grey dominating The Seeker’s viewport. Not Earl Grey as in the tea—Earl Grey the planet. Some doofus had possessed the nerve to name the planetary collection “The Tea System.” Of course when you hear the name, it sounds like “The T System,” which is way more categorical.

But no. The Tea System. The doofus had proceeded to name the star Teapot, and the planets Chai, Hibiscus, Earl Grey, and Sugar Cube.

So lame!

“M’lady Alice?”

My heart thumped. I whirled. Arn was standing right behind me. Darn him. “Can’t you at least make some noise when you walk?” I snapped.

Arn’s black eyebrows crawled into his impenetrable hairline. “Stealth is a virtue. I was only going to say, I’m initiating the landing sequence.”

I sighed. His stealth really was a virtue. He’d used it many times getting me into and out of places I wasn’t supposed to be. “Sorry. I’m just edgy.”

“Completely understandable. We can always dodge if you decide not to go through with it.”

The big softie. I shook my head and looked at the diamond buckles on the black shoes poking from beneath my equally black floor-length gown. They weren’t my style, but Daddy had made sure I would be dressed to impress, despite my refusal to wear anything but mourning colors. “I appreciate it, Arn.”

He nodded and slipped away, phantom-like, to the control pit, while I anchored myself to the cushions of my seat. Earl Grey loomed closer, with Sugar Cube right behind, a white globe reminiscent of a bare moon.

Who in the galaxy would name a planet Sugar Cube? Or Earl Grey, for that matter?

My fingers strayed to my pendant, the smooth, black, glitter rock Henry had given me. Sugar Cube had seemed like such a cute pet name when he’d given it to me, grinning his cockeyed grin while he dumped a handful of sugar cubes in his giant mug of tea. Earl Grey had been his favorite, but he’d decided he liked me much better than tea.

Five years ago. Now, the words “Sugar Cube” and “Earl Grey” grated. Hard.

Tears stung my eyes as the landing sequence shuddered through the craft. It was time to say goodbye. Henry had been missing for five years. Slave traders had picked him up. Probably sold him as a mercenary over in Velarus.

Daddy was right… sort of. It was time to stop moping around and get on with life. Me, The Seeker, and the gang—we’d spent five years investigating mining colonies, searching mercenary camps, and busting slave traders’ lairs. There was no trace of Henry.

I’d been captured and ransomed once a year, give or take, and Daddy was tired of my expensive habit. When he was offered a trade deal with the newly established Tea System—no taxes, tariffs, and minimal docking fees—in return for my hand in marriage, he put his foot down.

“You’re not going to spend your whole life looking for a dead kid! I’ve given you a ship and men and weapons—everything. I’ve even offered some support for your little delusion. But it’s time you woke up. It’s time you contributed to the family.”

I gripped the chrome frame of my seat as the G-forces kicked in, and a tear worked its way diagonally down my face. I’d always insisted that Henry was alive, somewhere, but five years had etched away at my hope until nothing remained but an empty shell.

Henry was gone, and there was nothing I could do about it.

Now here I was, about to meet the overlord of a new colony of ex-convicts, debtors, and escaped slaves. The doofus who named a star system after tea. No one should like tea that much, except Henry.

Oh, how I missed him.

By the time The Seeker settled on the planet, I’d conquered my tears. I joined Arn and the diplomats for our grand exit. When Arn offered me his steady arm, I took it.

The hatch whooshed open. Gritting my teeth, I stepped down the walkway, into the sticky air of a tropical climate. Cheers erupted. A far cry from the more dignified applause I had expected.

I looked up. The men and women before me were not well-dressed. Some were barefoot. Many wore clothes too loose or too tight. There was no sign of makeup or hair-plasma anywhere in the crowd. Just beaming faces, as if everyone was excited to see me.

There was no red carpet, but four boys straightened the faded remains of a rug at the bottom of the gangplank. To the left, a group of teenage girls held an obviously hand-painted banner stating “Welcome Lady Alice!”

As I wobbled onto the ragged rug, a scrawny man serenaded us with a few squawks of a bugle.

Silence fell as grinning people parted to form a lane. A man in a rough brown jumpsuit strolled down that lane, straight towards me. His cockeyed grin made me look twice.

“Announcing…” the bugle man bawled, “the Duke of Earl!”

So this was my betrothed, the Duke of Earl. Earl Grey, that is. His swagger was identical to Henry’s. The grin was the same. Same brown hair. My heart thudded.

But he was different. He was taller and broader than the teenage boy of five years ago. Muscles stood up under the rolled-up sleeves of his jumpsuit. His beard masked his features. I couldn’t be sure… Arn leaned close. “Pull yourself together, girl!”

“Right. Thanks.”

The Duke of Earl stepped onto the rug, still grinning. Those green eyes were exactly the same as I remembered. My breath hitched as he took my hand. “Alice! Don’t be shy.”

Then he looked at me funny. “Wait… did you not know it was me?”

Oh great, I was going to cry for the second time in less than an hour. “You doofus! Of course I did. Your planet names were a dead giveaway.”

Can you guess which song from the 1960's inspired this story? Share in the comments!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Camille Esther was raised on a family farmstead, where she milked goats and daydreamed of becoming an author. At seventeen she began writing her first novel, and has kept writing ever since. She now juggles writing, raising a family, and (still) milking goats.

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