The next few weeks followed a routine Lisbet never would have suspected her life to fall into. She got up in the morning and spent half an hour trying to look pretty. At first, it was really challenging, but through constant meetings with other women, she learned a few tricks on how to look her best without makeup or dry shampoo. Then she selected an outfit from the rack of prepared clothes. Vantz asked her to set aside his personal favorites for days when she would need to make big announcements in front of cameras. Then she skipped breakfast and went to The Boiler Room. It was better if she ate brunch there and skipped lunch. It cost Vantz the same amount either way. Food prices were fixed so it didn’t really matter if she ate at Castle Ares or at the club. The food came from the same place anyway. It was more social to eat at the club.

Then the interviews, meet-and-greets, introductions, and everything else began.

There were a lot of questions about Vantz.

“Was he a good kisser?”

“What did he look like?”

“How did they fall in love?”

“How did he have time to fall in love? He is the busiest man in the solar system!”

“What did they do together for fun?”

“Did he toss and turn at night under the weight of an impossible task? After all, so many other people had failed to terraform Mars.”

“How did it feel to know that the first battle in space had been, in part, over her? During the battle miners swore they would capture her cryochamber and take her underground.”

That was one of the heaviest.

There were a million other questions. Lisbet answered the kiss question easily. Vantz had kissed her. 

“His kiss is always astonishing,” she admitted wistfully. “I’ve never felt anything like it, like being swept off your feet suddenly… Every single time.” It was in her mind to turn Vantz into a Paris to her Helen of Troy, an Antony to her Cleopatra, and a God to her Joan of Arc. 

When she had to answer the question about what he looked like, she always evaded the question as deftly as she could. She decided to keep his secrets as valiantly as he did. “It’s a secret. If he wanted everyone to know, he could have shown everyone his face years ago.”

The story of how they fell in love was already established. “I wrote to him to fangirl over him and, miraculously, he wrote me back,” she said, making her voice like polished brass. “He saw something in me that I have never seen in myself. I can’t explain how much his love has changed me.”

“Weren’t you sold to him through Sleeping Beauty Inc.?” the reporter asked.

“Yes. He decided to do it that way, largely so he could cover the arrival of the Mammoth ships. I could have been here much sooner if he hadn’t wanted me delivered along with the method of deliverance for all of Mars.”

Saying that made the reporter’s mouth gape, but Lisbet was answering the same question for multiple reporters. All their mouths hung open when they had their turn with her.

As for the question of how he had time to fall in love, Lisbet brushed it away with a quick, “He fits it in the cracks. Everyone needs love. That’s more true on Mars than in other places.”

She liked to answer the questions about how they had fun together because the answer was easy and natural. “We play VR games. He’s really fit. He’s hard to keep up with.”

When she got questions about his personal life, she squirmed. “You know that is private,” she’d feigned, refusing to talk about the anxiety he and Beck both seemed to suffer from.

But those were only the beginner questions. She was also asked about the forced evacuations of the pleasure palaces. Lisbet didn’t know exactly what the teams Vantz sent were doing or how they were doing it. The method had to be confidential, so they could do it over and over again without allowing the miners to prepare for it. Lisbet didn’t know, but every few days, Vantz would provide her with an updated map regarding which places on Mars had been evacuated. Every day, Lisbet would make a petition to the miners to please come forward and go into cryosleep while Mars was being terraformed. It wasn’t safe to remain on the planet. It didn’t matter what she said or how she said it, the miners stayed underground.

The reporters were not interested in those regular petitions to the public. Everyone was watching her for the daily report about which areas had been cleansed of pleasure palaces. The people on the surface rejoiced. The people underground were silent. 

Aside from that, there were a million questions about Vantz since she was the only person who had ever seen him. They wanted to know what he smoked (apparently it was known that he smoked), which underwear he wore, his favorite food out of the canteen, his favorite book, his favorite movie, his favorite VR game, and so much more that Lisbet finally had to ask Bridget to give her a few minutes between visitors so she could keep a journal of her lies. She sent it to Vantz at the end of each day, but he only replied to her with more info packets.

She would call off visitors for an hour in the midday for a little nap where she swung in her hammock and pretended to be a little girl sleeping in the garden back home. She’d dream of green grass wet from the sprinkler and then open her eyes to the red sands of Mars. Then she would dive right back into accepting visitors until the workday ended. With the day’s work accomplished, she’d get on her transport and go back to Castle Ares. 

Beck would meet her at the elevator, merely asking if anything notable had happened that day. Her interaction with him was always the best interaction of the day. He didn’t ask her anything she had to lie about and he didn’t pester her with more than just one question. He was handsome, providing a welcome face, and he demanded nothing.

After the question had been answered, he’d walk her to her bedroom doors, and then head for the escalator with a solid stride. 

He never acted needy for a single second. Sometimes, she thought that he had changed his mind about wanting to take her to bed. He was so quiet, so bored, so even-tempered that it was hard to imagine any heat was simmering under the surface.

Once, Lisbet didn’t go into her room when he dropped her off. She stood outside the doors. He was already walking away with purpose. He was so determined in the way he walked, she thought he must have something important to do. On the escalator, he paused, standing still on a moving stair instead of walking up to get to the next floor at double speed. He paused, undid the buttons at his throat, turned to the side, and leaned against the handrail that was moving along with him. He brushed his fingers across his collarbone in a horizontal motion. Then he rubbed the back of his neck like he was the most exhausted person in the world. 

His brown eyes met Lisbet’s violet ones. 

He said nothing.

He just looked at her. 

At the top of the escalator, he stepped off the stairs but he didn’t take another step toward his workshop. 

If they were having a staring contest, and it didn’t feel anything like one, he was winning. Lisbet couldn’t hold his gaze. It was too intense and too against who she was inside herself. She wasn’t the kind of woman to marry a man only to fool around with his servant, even if her husband gave her the green light.

Half of her thought it was a trap. 

The other half of her hoped it was a trap and that she was brilliant for evading it.

She dropped her eyes and crossed the threshold into her bedroom.