Republic

by Lindsay Buroker

  Mahliki ran down the basement hallway without replying, disappointed that she had missed a chance to sit next to Sespian at dinner. And eat aphrodisiac courses. She snorted. Maybe that would have put him in the mood to finally give her a kiss. Or more likely imbibing a few glasses of wine would do it. She had never seen him drink and wasn’t sure if he did. Too bad. He could use loosening up.

  “You’re talking?” she asked herself, taking the stairs two at a time. “How long did it take you to find the courage to kiss him?” And that had been more than a peck. Of course in her present attire, he would probably be repelled rather than attracted. At least she was wearing plant guts instead of frog guts or something truly disgusting. She seemed to remember that happening at a childhood dinner, much to her grandmother’s chagrin.

  Mahliki turned into the broad open hall of the main level and almost crashed into the backs of two servers heading from the kitchen to the banquet room with trays of a steaming amber liquid that smelled apple-y—and alcoholic.

  “Sorry,” she called, racing past them. Fortunately they were agile enough not to lose their glasses when she jostled their elbows.

  One started to curse, but the other hushed him. “President’s daughter.”

  The privileges of being related to someone of rank... instead of cursing her out loud, they had to do it in their heads. At least those drinks meant the festivities were still going on.

  She slowed down minutely as she approached the double doors leading to the banquet hall, but not quite enough. Two more servers were stepping out with trays of empty glasses. She swerved, but the doorframe boxed her in, and she ended up knocking a man’s arm. His tray tilted and glasses slid off the side.

  Cursing herself—this night was not going well—Mahliki caught two of them. The server righted his tray before the whole pile tilted to the floor, but one more empty glass wobbled and fell off the edge. Mahliki lunged for it, but with her hands already full, she only ticked the stem with a pinky finger. It hit the marble floor and shattered.

  “So close,” she muttered.

  “Sorry, ma’am,” the server said. “I’ll take those and take care of this mess.”

  “No, I’m sorry.” Mahliki let him take the glasses, but bent to pick up the shards on the floor. That crash had been her fault. She had only plucked up one piece before he foisted the tray on his comrade and knelt, holding up a hand.

  “Please, my lady. Do not concern yourself with this.”

  Mahliki might have protested, but she happened to look up and notice all the sets of eyes staring at her. Father was sitting at the table with Dak and two other officers, but most of the people were out in the cleared area, in the middle of some dance that involved couples with hands on waists—and other places. All except one of the drummers in the corner had faltered to a stop, and even the one was only tapping a faint background beat.

  “Sorry,” Mahliki said again, feeling more sheepish than ever. Were they staring because she had crashed in and broken glasses? Or because she looked scruffier than a chimney sweep? “Go back to your dancing, please.” And public fondling. She kept that thought to herself, though Maldynado’s special dishes had clearly worked. Or perhaps people were simply relaxing and expressing their relief at having survived the plant invasion.

  Even after the server had picked up the glass shards, Mahliki lingered near the doorway, not certain whether she should go in. She searched for Sespian among the dancers. For whatever reason, there were more women than men, so some ladies were waiting out, clapping in rhythm with the drummers. Would he have chosen someone else when she didn’t show up? Or maybe he would have chosen someone else even if she had shown up. She sighed in irritation at her own insecurity, which she surely had no cause for, glass breaking habits or not, but the fact that she had kissed him on the submarine, and he had never said anything about it or returned the gesture... that was disheartening.

  “You’re here,” a soft voice came from the side.

  Sespian was standing against the wall a few feet from the door, holding a sketchpad and a pencil. If he had been there the whole time, he had noticed her ungainly crash. Oh, well. At least he was there. And not dancing with one of the numerous women in the hall. Though they would be foolish not to do so if he asked... He looked quite handsome tonight in his black and gray, the shirt and jacket tidy and trim, accenting his lean form. He had the figure of a warrior, even if there was a pencil stub tucked behind his ear.

  “Yes, sorry I’m late.” Mahliki winced, knowing she had said she was sorry at least three times since she crashed into the hall. “Was the dinner good?”

  “Lonely. I had to sit next to my father. And he was more interested in talking with your father.”

  Mahliki kept herself from apologizing again. Barely. Sespian’s smile was wry, and there wasn’t any hint of anger about him. His eyes were more... intent than usual as he gazed at her. “I, uhm, got distracted by... well, it doesn’t matter. I meant to come. And I meant to be clean.”

  “You’re beautiful,” Sespian said, then glanced at the guards standing on either side of the door. They were doing good statue impersonations, but he blushed, nonetheless. “Would you like to go for a walk?” he blurted.

  “Yes.”

  He took her hand and led her into the hall.

  “Thank you,” Mahliki said.

  “For helping you escape the room full of old people groping each other in the president’s banquet hall?”

  Mahliki giggled, then rolled her eyes at herself. She never giggled. Ugh. “The word that came to my mind was fondling,” she said, trying to sound mature, or at least not vacuous, “but actually I meant for the compliment.”

  “You’re welcome.” Sespian turned up a wide set of stairs.

  “Are we going anywhere in particular?”

  “Is there somewhere in particular you would like to go?”

  Mahliki’s mind went blank. A library? A closet? Somewhere they wouldn’t be interrupted and where they could... do what? Sespian hadn’t indicated that he had anything... touchy in mind. And she was hardly dressed to seduce him. “My mother suggested the zoo,” she said, then rolled her eyes again. The zoo? Really?

  Sespian paused on the landing. “In the middle of the night?”

  “No, just in general. She said you have a grimbal there. I’ve never seen one. Maybe we could go for a walk there sometime. When it’s light.”

  “That would be nice.” Sespian tilted his head toward the next set of stairs, then led her up to the third floor.

  He must have had some destination in mind. As far as Mahliki knew, there were mostly meeting rooms and spaces up there for further expansion. All of the offices and common areas were on the first floor and the personal quarters on the second.

  Only every third gas lamp was lit in the hallway, and Mahliki found herself thinking that there was no reason they had to travel farther. They hadn’t passed anyone on the floor, and there were more shadows than light, perfect for two people to have... private time together.

  Sespian took her into a large unlit room. Enough moonlight filtered in through glass double doors on the far side that Mahliki could make out a conference table and walls full of maps.

  “This is the war room, isn’t it?” Mahliki had received the tour when the family had moved in.

  “Yes, though I would like to think it’ll be used more for signing treaties and negotiating with diplomats than for convening about war.”

  Not the place she would have expected Sespian to lead her, but they were alone. If someone kindled a fire in the hearth and dragged over a couple of chairs, it might be cozy.

  Sespian continued through the room, though, not stopping until he reached the doors. “This balcony happens to have the best view in the house. Technically, it’s so any president standing in here can see enemy ships entering the harbor, but I thought we might appreciate the lake for other reasons. Especially now that it’s mostly free of dead plant matter.” He pushed open one of the do
ors and stepped aside, inviting her out with a gesture.

  A large balcony overlooked the newly planted rose garden below, and they were high enough up to see past lower buildings to the lake beyond. They walked to the railing. Gentle floral scents wafted up from the garden—the roses would take a while to grow to maturity, but someone had planted nasturtiums and marigolds to enjoy this year. A three-quarters moon laid a silvery path across the water. The air was cooler than it would be on a Kyattese night, but Mahliki wore enough clothing that she wasn’t chilled. She stepped closer to Sespian anyway, in case he had any notions about putting an arm around her.

  He turned toward her, an elbow on the railing, his face lit by the moon. “I vowed that when you came to dinner, I would sweep you into my arms and kiss you.”

  Mahliki bit her lip, delighted by the admission. For so long he had seemed either oblivious or disinterested. That he had such things on his mind meant... everything. “And then I didn’t come.” She caught herself before she could apologize again, but was certainly regretting that she had missed this experience.

  “I took up a strategic position by the door in case you wandered in late,” Sespian said. “And then you did, and I was ready to act... only you knocked the server’s glasses on the floor, and I was afraid kissing while standing amongst shards of crystal wouldn’t be romantic.”

  “I wouldn’t have minded.”

  “No?” Sespian leaned closer and took her hands.

  A flutter of nervous delight ran through her at his warm touch. “No. Though... I’d like to clarify that I only knocked one glass to the floor. The others I caught. Quite deftly, you might have noticed.” Mahliki inched closer as she voiced her protest, until little separated their bodies except their hands, fingers now entwined.

  “I did notice that. Most impressive.” He was kind enough not to point out that her deft catches wouldn’t have been necessary if she hadn’t crashed into the server to start with.

  Mahliki meant to thank him for the compliment, but she found herself watching his lips instead. She scarcely remembered them from their last kiss—the one he had been too startled to respond to—and vowed to savor the moment this time. When his lips touched, warm and sensual, with a hint of whatever minty last course had been served, she closed her eyes, her own lips parting in invitation. He was gentle but intent, and she allowed herself to believe he had been thinking about this for some time. The notion filled her with warmth, or maybe his kisses were doing that. His hands slipped free of hers to ease around her waist, inspiring delicious goosebumps wherever they touched. She slid her hand up his arm to his shoulder, feeling the lean muscle beneath his shirt. Warrior and artist... an unlikely combination, but she liked it. She also liked what he was doing with his hand and wriggled closer.

  Something clinked. Oops, she had forgotten about the vials and tools tucked inside her coveralls.

  Sespian’s lips left hers, though he didn’t draw back far, just enough for her to see the arched eyebrows. “Your chest is poking me,” he said.

  “Yes. It’s a sign of my... keen interest.” Mahliki fished in her coveralls for the tongs she had stuck in there earlier, moving them down to a lower pocket. She also dug out a test tube and a couple of other items—dear Akahe, when had she jabbed all those things into her coveralls? She didn’t even remember.

  “Was that a magnifying glass?” Sespian asked.

  “Yes, and a graduated cylinder.”

  “You’re an intriguing woman, Mahliki Starcrest.”

  “I’m glad you think so. Can we go back to kissing now?”

  “Love to,” he murmured, and pulled her close. If anything else clinked, neither of them noticed it.

  • • • • •

  Maldynado took a break from dancing with... he wasn’t sure what her name was, Fee-something—to pluck a glass of wine from a tray and lean against a wall. Most of his dinner guests were still wiggling their hips and twirling about with their partners, so he considered the evening a success, even if Rias and Dak Starcrest and a couple of other officers had bowed out on the dancing in favor of discussing who knew what at the table. Politics or military issues probably. How dreadfully drab. At least Deret Mancrest was still out attempting to dance with one of the available women—the swordstick did make things awkward, alas. Basilard and his lady had found a quiet dim corner—Maldynado had ordered the lighting softened to provide such spots—and were swaying together. He had caught a little more than swaying during an earlier glance. Good for Basilard. The soup must have worked. Amaranthe and Sicarius were... holding up the opposite wall together. He had an arm around her, while she leaned against his chest, but it all looked rather boring. Despite Maldynado’s suggestions, Sicarius wouldn’t be drawn out to dance—probably because he had refused to sample any of the dinner courses. Maldynado wasn’t all that certain he wanted to see Sicarius gyrating to drumbeats anyway. Fortunately, Amaranthe didn’t seem to miss seeing it, either. She seemed content standing against the wall with him and watching the others. Presumably they would sway to their own beat later in private. It wasn’t their fault they weren’t very fun people and wouldn’t sway in front of others.

  Maldynado glanced toward the front door. Sespian had slipped out with Mahliki. Also good. Maldynado had been quite put out with the young woman for not showing up. He had even attempted to set Sespian up with one of the other younger ladies, but he had fled at this notion, grabbing a sketchpad and suggesting his talents would be most useful in creating drawings to commemorate the evening. He hoped Mahliki was out in the hallway showing him a different way to commemorate things.

  A satisfying evening overall, Maldynado decided, at least for those he had helped set up. For himself... he lamented that he didn’t have a lady to go home with. Oh, Fee-something and one of the others he had brought to introduce to Mancrest had offered, but he wasn’t ready to wander off with random women. Though he didn’t know why not. It wasn’t as if Evrial were even in the city anymore. Though she had written a couple of times, asking how he was doing and telling him about her promotion ceremony. Maybe if he were to go to her, she would still be... amenable to it?

  Colonel Starcrest walked up to Maldynado. “What is this, Marblecrest?” He held up a business card.

  “That’s for your uncle. I left it at the table, so he could pick it up after he and his wife were done dancing.” The pair had swayed through two songs, but had both lifted their hands at further entreaties to partake in the festivities. Maldynado hoped he could handle more than two dances when he reached their venerable ages.

  “A sculptor?” the colonel asked. “Having a building named after you isn’t enough?”

  “I simply wished to make the president aware of the fine craftsmen in the city. Don’t you think that the entryway with the fountain would look fine with a statue of a handsome and noble warrior gazing benevolently upon visitors?” Sure, Sespian had said he had deliberately departed from old traditions by making a fountain that featured branches and leaves instead of hulking war heroes, but that spacious foyer had room for a statue or two in the alcoves.

  “You’re incorrigible,” the colonel said.

  “Yes, now shouldn’t you be dancing?” Maldynado pointed to one of the young ladies sitting this round out. “Even Mancrest is wobbling his hips, and he can barely walk without that stick.”

  “Yes, he’s wobbling them so effectively that all four of the women you brought have been doting on him. And you. The one who deigned to dance with me kept looking over my shoulder at you and wondering, ‘Why does he look so sad?’” The colonel used an alarming falsetto for repeating the woman’s words.

  “Ah,” Maldynado said. “I didn’t realize my... mood of lament would make me appear so alluring.”

  “I ought to punch you for saying something as idiotic as that, but I’m going to give you the news I came to deliver anyway.”

  “Which is?”

  “One of my men reported that an enforcer woman who isn’t on the guest list
seeks entrance to the residence—and your party.”

  “An... enforcer woman?” Maldynado gulped. Was it...? Who else could it be? But here in the city? How? Why?

  “You have no one but yourself to blame for your laments if you didn’t invite the girl to your shindig.” The colonel didn’t roll his eye—he was probably too fierce and military to exercise such theatrics, but he sounded like he wanted to. “I assume you don’t want her kept out?”

  “No! I mean of course not. I—is she here now?” Maldynado kept from grabbing the colonel’s arm—barely. “Or are they keeping her outside in the cold?”

  “It’s not that cold.” The colonel waved to a soldier by the door.

  He stepped into the hall. Maldynado leaned forward on his toes, tempted to spring across the room. If Evrial had come, what did it mean? That she missed him? That she wanted to give him another chance to join her in the country? That she... wanted to arrest him for something? He did a quick search through his brain, trying to remember if he had partaken in any misdemeanors in the past weeks. He didn’t think so, but he suddenly felt guilty.

  When Evrial Yara stepped into the banquet hall, his feeling of guilt, a certainty that he had done something wrong, intensified. Not only was she wearing her enforcer grays, the uniform pressed so crisply that the seams on her trousers stood to attention, but her baton, short sword, and handcuffs hung on her belt. All business, that uniform said. His gaze lingered on the lieutenant’s baton-and-dagger rank pins on her collar flaps, then lifted to her face.

  Evrial spotted Maldynado then and strode toward him, not sparing more than a glance for the president and his officers at the table. She did cast a brief withering gaze toward the dance floor—and the women in dresses wiggling their hips out there. Maldynado wondered if he could have talked Evrial into dancing if they had still been together and if she had deigned to come to his event. She preferred to unleash her emotions in private.

  Maldynado caught Amaranthe and Sicarius watching Evrial’s approach, and wondered if Sicarius would step in if Yara tried to arrest Maldynado. Probably not. He would probably hold open the door for her to drag Maldynado out.