“What?” The question slips out of my mouth before her words sink in, my voice so quiet I’m not sure anyone else hears it. I blink, blink again, trying to process it.

Corvus. The family business is going to Corvus. Fortuna is going to Corvus. Corvus, who abandoned our family to fight in a war on Titan, who chose his home-world above his blood. Corvus, who hasn’t contributed any of the sweat and tears I’ve sacrificed to the family business over the last few years.

He left. He betrayed the family name. He betrayed me. And Momma’s giving him the ship? I glance around the room, hoping for one of my siblings to speak up so I don’t have to, desperate for at least one of them to seem as upset as I am. But nobody will look at me. None of them seem surprised by the decision, which hurts worse than Momma’s words.

“Fucking Corvus? Are you kidding me?” I’m not aware of how loud I say it until I hear the phrase echoing around the cargo bay. I lean forward, my hands balling into fists at my sides, glaring at my mother. It all surges up—the anger, the resentment, the unfairness of it all. Momma used me. She let me believe for years that I could be the one left in charge… and the moment her precious golden child comes back, she’s ripping it all out from underneath me. She must have known this would be her decision the whole time. Maybe I was the only one who didn’t.

“This is bullshit,” I snarl. “Bull. Shit.” The anger is blinding. If I wasn’t so exhausted, I could be more eloquent—could argue my point rather than bubbling over in rage—but right now all I want to do is pour out all the things I’ve been holding in for years. I step forward, raise a finger, and point it in my mother’s face, right between those icy eyes and their disapproval. “Fuck Corvus,” I spit at her. “And fuck you, you cold-hearted, stars-damned bitch.”

Lyre lets out a strangled gasp, and one of the twins mutters something unintelligible. But I keep my eyes on Momma, hoping her face will reflect some fraction of the hurt swelling in my own chest.

My mother gives me an unimpressed look and jerks her chin. A moment later, I’m dragged backward, one of the twins on each arm. I didn’t even notice Drom standing up. I sputter and kick, but my siblings barely seem to notice.

“Time to go,” Drom says.