by Tasha Black
She pushed the thoughts aside.
Everything was moving so fast. Literally. She’d been sitting at a fancy dinner like two minutes ago.
Dinner.
Of course there was something he could do to help.
8
Zane
Zane watched as Juno sat up suddenly, hands going to her head.
Her fingers locked around her tiara and she let out a small sigh.
She must have been afraid it had blown off while he was spiriting her away from the fray in the restaurant.
“I would never allow you to misplace your crown,” he told her.
“Is there a place onboard this ship where jewelry can be resold?” she asked.
That was an unexpected question.
“You mean like a pawn broker, or a melter?” he asked, trying to follow.
“Either,” she said, nodding.
“Why?” he asked.
“King Cassius told me what’s happening on his home planet,” she said, her brown and blue eyes growing sorrowful. “He was deposed, and now there is a tyrant on the throne in his place. His people are rebelling, but they have no funds, and his own assets are frozen. I’m sure that attempt on his life had something to do with it. I want to help the people of Frigalia.”
He watched in awe as she lifted the tiara from her head.
In the dim light it glowed like a rainbow, each jewel reflecting the glory of a thousand sunsets.
“I want to sell my crown to help his people,” she said simply. “Do you think I can get enough for it to make a difference?”
He gazed at a her, wondering suddenly if she knew that his prime state meant he was also sovereign.
Maybe she was only trying to impress him with her act of selflessness, hoping to trick him into marriage.
But there was no subterfuge in her open expression. The girl might not have courtly manners, but her forthrightness made it easy for him to take her statements at face value.
And her odd behavior supported the theory that she was from an outer realm, where his kind would be all but unheard of.
No, he decided, she knew nothing of his unique heritage.
She was genuine.
And she had compassion- real compassion - not just talk.
The light danced along her dark hair - she was even more beautiful without the crown.
“I can find a buyer,” he told her carefully. “But are you sure you want to do this?”
She looked down at the jeweled tiara in her hand.
“It was given to me,” she said simply. “I didn’t earn it.”
He blinked in surprise.
Hers were the exact words that had echoed in his head when he had relinquished his own destiny to travel the cosmos.
She held out the crown and he took it with a light heart.
Her smile was more dazzling than all the jewels she’d just given up.
He felt a pull so strong it was as if his soul were trying to leave his body to join with hers.
He leaned in, longing to kiss her.
Her eyes widened and her head tilted slightly, as if to make it easier for him.
“I’ll take care of it right away,” he said, launching himself off the bed.
He had to collect himself before he terrified her by trying to claim her. He was afraid a single kiss would be impossible.
And mating with a prime was wildness, especially for a woman who had no idea what she was getting into.
“Oh-oh-kay,” she stuttered.
He fled her rooms before he had time to reconsider.
When the two large doors closed behind him, he leaned against them for a moment, though whether he felt more relief or more exhilaration he couldn’t be sure. His heart was racing.
He headed to his own room and placed the crown in his lockbox.
There was no way he would allow her to sell off her treasure to fund some kind of revolution she knew nothing about. Especially not for someone with a track record like King Cassius.
He removed a soft leather pouch from the lockbox and counted out seven medallions.
Each medallion was worth so many credits they could not be transported individually without a hover-car.
The amount certainly outweighed the value of her crown, but he did not wish to have it appraised, nor did he wish to shortchange her. The crown was hers. If she wanted to throw its value out an airlock, it was her decision.
Though he did feel it was his duty to let her know his concerns about Cassius beforehand. Whether they had just witnessed an assassination attempt or not, Zane highly doubted the people of Frigalia were anxious to get such a selfish king back on the throne.
He dressed quickly, then placed the pouch in a rucksack and threw a few tunics on top of it so that if she caught him leaving it would look like her crown might be inside.
He had to get out of the Cloud Suite, had to visit the forest where he could think in peace.
But he knew already that no matter what he came up with, the outcome would be the same.
Juno of Adair was his blood mate.
And, as if that weren’t enough, it was beginning to look like he might be falling in love with her anyway, for her own qualities.
9
Cassius
King Cassius of Frigalia brushed the remains of his drink unceremoniously off his lap as his personal guard berated the dining room staff.
“How did he even get in the door in the first place?” Ozmarck demanded, his face getting oddly paler as he did.
The manager gulped audibly.
“I’m m-most sorry, sir,” he managed. “We have never had such an incident at the Titanium Dining Room.”
Ozmarck straightened, making himself a few inches taller, which was roughly the size of a freight loader.
A perfect time for Cassius to step in and look magnanimous.
“Ozmarck, my good man, please stand down,” he said solemnly.
Ozmarck paused, as if torn, then backed up a few paces.
“I apologize for my bodyguard,” Cassius said with a smile. “You must understand that we are fleeing persecution. My people are most protective of their monarch. I am all they have left of their home.”
Behind the manager’s back, Ozmarck rolled his eyes.
Cassius made a note to himself to dock his pay.
“M-my apologies, your majesty,” the manager said. “I understand your position.”
“And I yours,” Cassius said, spreading his hands. “But I cannot condone your lack of security protocol. Why half the galaxy’s assassins and bad men could be right here among us.”
The manager looked around with an expression of utter terror.
“I do not wish to press charges at this time,” Cassius went on. “But I certainly didn’t enjoy the fine dining that I was promised tonight at your prices.” Cassius raised his eyebrows slightly.
Dear lord, he was having to practically feed the man his lines.
“Oh,” the manager said. “Oh, sire, it would be our privilege to comp your entire meal tonight. For both yourself and your men.”
“That wasn’t my intention, but if you insist,” Cassius said. “Very well.”
The manager nodded mutely.
“I was planning to have the galactic pescariania platter and Indylutian pears with honey over Brulysh creme for dessert,” Cassius said, repeating the most expensive items on the menu from memory. “My men will have the same, and also add a fourth helping for the lady I was accompanying, in case she can be located and persuaded to dine with me.”
“Very good, sir,” the manager said, looking as if he were in pain. The bill was probably a month of his miserable salary.
“Of course I’m far too shaken to eat here, so just pack it all up for me, and my men will carry it up,” Cassius continued. “Oh, and pack up these delightful buns as well. That’s a good man. And a few bottles of your best champagne.”
The manager nodded and scurried off to complete the order before Cassius could th
ink of anything else.
“Crex, stay here for the food,” Cassius said. “Ozmarck, with me.”
He swept out of the restaurant without even looking back to ensure he was being followed. Ozmarck wouldn’t dare disobey.
He marched down the corridor to one of the awful common platforms that would carry them upward to their cramped quarters.
Ozmarck caught up in time to instruct the platform.
“Third level,” he grunted in his surly Maltaffian voice.
“Who the fuck was that?” Cassius hissed.
“Shouldn’t we wait until we’re in private?” Ozmarck asked calmly.
“No, we shouldn’t—” Cassius began.
But the platform had already stopped at the Second Level.
“Going down?” a fur-coated Cameliunak asked in a quavery voice.
“Going up,” Cassius said.
“Third Level,” Ozmarck repeated.
“I can’t believe I’m on a shared platform on the third level,” Cassius moaned.
“At least you’re not behind bars,” Ozmarck noted darkly.
Cassius had avoided that fate because of his clever employment of Ozmarck.
Not that the horned Maltaffian would ever let him forget.
“You were being paid. You did your job,” Cassius said lightly. “Did you want a pat on the head?”
Ozmarck stiffened visibly.
“That’s what I thought,” Cassius said.
But he did wait until they reached his quarters before talking about the assailant.
Ozmarck opened the door for him and Cassius stepped inside and looked at the false window showing an unchanging spacescape.
Deplorable, that’s what it was.
“Who was the idiot you hired to attack me?” he demanded, turning all his displeasure on his brute of a bodyguard.
“We agreed that our first priority was to protect you from actual harm,” Ozmarck said mildly.
“Yes, of course, but you could have hired a full-sized man for the job,” Cassius said. “I hope you paid him by the pound. Not that I’m going to pay him at all, for that miserable performance.”
“He did everything exactly as we asked,” Ozmarck said. “The princess was frightened. She didn’t seem to question my hiring choice.”
“I’m starting to question mine,” Cassius said darkly.
“Did you notice her guard?” Ozmarck asked.
“What about him?” Cassius asked.
Ozmarck opened his mouth and closed it again.
“What?” Cassius spat.
“Nothing. He was fast, that’s all,” Ozmarck said. “Did you get a good look at him?”
“I didn’t look at him at all,” Cassius moaned. “I was too busy being attacked by a pint-sized peon.”
“Size isn’t everything,” Ozmarck observed.
“Easy for you to say,” Cassius muttered. “You’re enormous.”
“Your majesty, I have our food,” Crex cried out happily from the doorway.
Gods, but his voice was annoying.
“I don’t know what you mean by our food,” Cassius said. “That’s mine.”
Crex looked down at the rolling cart in dismay.
“But, sire, you told the manager…” He trailed off and seemed to reconsider his tack. “I only worry that so much food might make you sick, my lord.”
“We have a refrigeration bay, even in this hovel,” Cassius said. “Bring me a plate, put the rest in there. You two lackeys can go to the kitchens as usual.”
“Very good, sire,” Crex said sadly.
“Other than Ozmarck hiring a child-sized nincompoop to attack me, tonight went rather well,” Cassius said, pleased now that everyone else was disappointed. “I think the princess was very taken with my tale.”
“Oh yes, your majesty,” Crex said immediately. “I could see the way she leaned in, and that sad look on her pretty face.”
“You weren’t supposed to be gawking at us,” Cassius said sternly. “But, yes, yes she was quite taken indeed. I expect we’ll be receiving a contribution soon for our worthy cause.”
He looked around at the pedestrian living space and imagined the quarters he might be enjoying this time next week.
With the help of the princess, of course.
10
Juno
Juno paced in front of the hologram communicator, trying to organize her thoughts.
She had plenty of time on her end, but back on Terra-4, the lines for the hologram machine were long, and service during the brief uptimes was sketchy at best. She guessed her friend Rose would have only a few minutes of talk-time.
If the connection held.
And if the people behind Rose didn’t try to bully her into shortening her turn. She couldn’t hold back a smile at the thought of what might happen to the poor unfortunate soul that dared to bully Rose.
The hold screen went fuzzy then cleared.
“Rose,” Juno cried at the sight of her friend. It felt like a lifetime since they had been face-to-face, even though she’d really just started her journey.
“Whoa!” Rose’s voice sounded tinny, but her wide grin was the same as ever. “Where are you?”
“Would you believe this is my room?” Juno asked.
Rose whistled. “They really are treating you like a princess.”
“Oh, everyone is playing along with the princess thing,” Juno told her. “It’s kind of fun.”
“Hurry up,” someone yelled from behind Rose in the line.
“Easy, scrap-rocket,” she yelled back to him. “Seriously though, what’s going on, Juno? Any luck?”
“I met a deposed king,” Juno said quickly. “The population of his planet is aging, they don’t have enough workers, everything we talked about.”
“Deposed means he’s not king anymore, right?” Rose asked.
“His people want him back,” Juno told her. “They’re forming a rebellion. I’m trying to help him raise funds.”
“So when he gets his planet back, Terra-4 is in good with them,” Rose said, nodding. “Very nice.”
“Yeah,” Juno agreed, smoothing down her tunic.
She had changed into one of the outfits more similar to her clothing from home, grateful Anna had thought of the option. The last thing she wanted was her best friend thinking she had lost sight of the mission, or let all the opulence go to her head. She had even powered down BFF-67 and sent her into the other room to recharge.
“You think it’s going to work?” Rose asked.
“I’m hoping he’ll issue work permits to as many people as want to come,” Juno said. “He needs workers anyway.”
She paused a moment, wondering if she could share about Zane.
Not that there was much to share.
Other than the fact that he shifted into metal.
And that she wanted to kiss him almost more than she wanted her next breath.
“Anything else?” Rose asked knowingly.
Damn it.
They had been best friends since first year studies. Rose knew her every mood.
“Is this king attractive?” Rose prompted.
“No,” Juno said. “Well, yes. I guess so. But I’m not attracted to him.”
“Who is it then?” Rose asked. “A wealthy investor? A metal farmer?”
“My valet,” Juno admitted.
She cringed, feeling kind of silly about it in light of Rose’s ideas of who she should be spending time with.
“He’s still probably doing well compared to us, huh?” Rose asked sympathetically. “Is he a nice guy?”
“Yes,” Juno said, smiling.
“And he’s got your back?”
“I think so,” she said. “Definitely.”
“Then it’s awesome,” Rose told her. “I’m really happy for you.”
“I wish you were here,” Juno said, feeling a surge of love and gratitude for her best friend.
“Uh, yeah, me too, look at that place,” Rose said. “Are they fe
eding you well?”
“I’ll figure it out,” Juno said. “Got a free meal from the king tonight.”
“I thought he was the one who needed money,” Rose said.
“It’s… different with these people,” Juno said, shaking her head. “They have so much. It’s crazy.”
“Yo, hurry up,” another voice yelled to Rose.
“Red rings of Cylonius, would you shut your hole?” Rose yelled back. “We’re almost at our time anyway,” she confided, turning back to Juno.
“Take care of the neighborhood,” Juno told her, repeating their parting words from back on Terra-4.
“You take care of the skies,” Rose replied. “And give my regards to that valet.”
Juno laughed.
The transmission cut off and she was alone in the echoing sitting room once more.
She looked out at the view over the trees with a sudden feeling of overwhelming loneliness.
As if on cue, there was a gentle knock at the door, and she went to the screen to see who it could be.
Zane stood on the other side. He looked as handsome and practical as always.
And just like that, her loneliness was forgotten.
“I found a buyer for your crown,” he said into the speaker.
She placed her palm against the sensor and the doors swung open.
11
Zane
Zane stepped inside as soon as the door opened.
Juno stood before the window, wearing a simple flowing blouse over leggings with pockets, a leather cord around her waist.
Somehow, she looked even more beautiful than when she was adorned in a ballgown.
She turned to him and her blue-brown eyes seemed to look into his soul.
Though neither of them moved, he felt as if they were flying toward each other.
How much longer could he resist this bond?
“I brought your coin,” he said, wrenching his gaze from hers.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “I want to help my people, but I know that means making sacrifices first.”
