The Lost Princess

by K Bledsoe

  “Are you willing to calm down, or do you want to ruin everything with a barbaric display? I can always have Quinn tie you up if you can’t control yourself.” She brandished the globe. “And now your neighbors will hear nothing, well, except that first ridiculous outburst. Not very controlled behavior for someone who was supposed to marry into royalty.”

  Jonah realized his stupidity and simply lay there trying to draw air into his lungs and clear his dazed brain. Lenore nodded at Quinn, and he disappeared from Jonah’s vision. It sounded like he was getting a bag from the kitchen, and Jonah struggled to sit up. The woman crouched down to help pull him to a sitting position, but he could tell she was ready for any reaction.

  “I apologize for my behavior. It will not happen again,” he said then slowly got to his feet. The anger still burned but he had himself under control. “What did you do to her? She’s not Raahi anymore.”

  “Indeed, she is not.” The answer shocked him into silence again. “And for this to succeed, Raahi must cease to exist, must be as if she never existed.”

  The realization sank in and his heart filled with bitterness. “You just want your money.”

  She looked at him for several moments before answering.

  “Yes, I do. But isn’t this also what you wanted? To find the princess? Put her on the throne and depose the prince?”

  Jonah’s eyes dropped, and all the fight drained away, leaving him hollow and feeling as if he’d aged years. “You are right.” He put a hand to his forehead. “I don’t know what has gotten into me. I have no idea why I am so…so volatile. I assure you, I am not usually this emotional.”

  Lenore’s eyes narrowed as she peered into his face. He was still sitting on the floor and felt uneasy with her scrutiny.

  “More emotional than usual? This is a recent thing?”

  “Well, I suppose.” He didn’t want to admit that started shortly after Raahi came into his life.

  Lenore rummaged in a small pouch on her belt and pulled out a syringe.

  “Do you mind if I take a sample of blood?” she asked.

  “What? Why” Confusion momentarily broke through his thoughts of Raahi, but he held his wrist out.

  She pressed the syringe to the vein and within seconds it filled. The device beeped, and he felt the usual tingle of the small puncture being sealed. She tucked the syringe in a jacket pocket.

  “What is that all about?” Jonah gestured to the pocket.

  “This,” Lenore patted the pocket, “may contain proof of a drug that amplifies emotions to an unhealthy level. If it has been given to you, which sounds very likely, we can synthesize an antidote for…well…others who may have been given the same drug.”

  “How? I haven’t been to the palace for days.”

  “Withdrawal symptoms include extreme mood swings. Had any of those?”

  Jonah nodded reluctantly, though he still thought it was from his newfound feelings for another woman, not a drug.

  “We will take care of that. Don’t eat any of the palace food. If you receive a package from someone named Delilah, it means the test was positive and will contain everything you need to counter the effects safely. Understand?”

  Jonah nodded again, unsure at how he felt with an outsider taking control of his life.

  “Good. Now give Quinn all your records, erase anything having to do with Raahi and,” she stepped close to him, so he would look her in the eye. “go to the palace. Tell them that you need to take all the cameras offline to purge the system of the virus, and that it will take a day, maybe two. Dismiss any reviewers and monitor everything yourself. The prince is going to feel threatened when the princess returns and may become reckless, an opportunity to catch him in an unsavory act.”

  “But Raahi…”

  Lenore lightly gripped his arm. “Jonah, if you truly wish her to be happy, this must be done. She, and you, have a duty to your people.” He stared. She pressed on. “Your primary responsibility now is to return to your job as Chief Reviewer. Watch everything you can. Sleep in there if necessary. If you see anything at all that might threaten the princess, you must let me know immediately.” She held out a private communicator.

  Jonah lifted his chin. He would do everything he could to protect Ra—, no it’s Maya now. Even if it meant letting her go. He reached out and gripped the communicator tightly.

  “You can count on me.”

  Moments later, they had all they needed except one final, important piece of information.

  “Jonah,” she asked. “Who is completely trustworthy at the palace?”

  He considered for several breaths and came to a grim conclusion. “I’m sorry to say that the only one I can completely trust is the king. And Lavan, but he has no power. I know my second in command Ginette would support me over anyone else, but I have no idea of how much she would trust a stranger.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “I am sorry how it all turned out, but it’s for the best. Our plan will be set in motion first thing in the morning, so you need to be in place long before then.”

  “I understand.” They left, taking everything he had of the only woman he had ever loved. He’d go to the palace soon. But for now, he began to make his own plans to help Raahi any way he could. Even if he might never see her again.

  Chapter Sixty

  “We will speak only to the King,” said Diarmin. He was sitting in an office within the palace, a disguised Raahi in a chair next to him saying nothing. Her hands, pale from skin-changing gloves, shifted on her lap, and she kept tossing her blond hair. The security guard sat at his desk across from them, shifting paper around. He kept glancing at the young woman, but it was obvious he was attracted to her, not because he suspected her identity. Diarmin knew they would have no chance getting through with a hologram, so they gave Raahi a wig and makeup so that she looked nearly as pale as Lenore, especially next to Diarmin’s dark skin.

  Raahi had practice at hiding so nobody suspected the demure, self-effacing woman was the princess. Or the companion pretending to be the princess. He resisted a groan. One could go crazy with all the deception. He supposed he should think of her as Maya, but she was still Raahi to his mind and decided he would stick with that.

  “An audience with the king must be scheduled in advance, and there is no possibility of a private audience…” the man was saying for the third time.

  “Look, we know there is a private chamber, with absolute protection for the king. It is extremely urgent—”

  “Do you have a piece of paper?” asked Raahi in a voice that somehow perfectly mixed innocence and seduction. Diarmin glanced back at her, eyebrows raised and hoped he appeared surprised.

  “Oh, um well…” The security guard rummaged around in a desk drawer, and Diarmin suppressed a chuckle. She had obviously used that throaty voice in the past given how well it flustered the young man. He handed her the paper with a silly smile on his face.

  “And a pen, please?”

  “Yes, yes, my apologies.” He fumbled a pen from another drawer, and then she scrawled a quick note. She folded it once and carefully placed it in the hand the guard held out. She used her other hand to gently close his fingers around the paper. His face reddened as she lightly touched his arm.

  “It is urgent the king reads that as soon as possible. I know you must have the ability to accomplish that and if you do, both the king and I would be very grateful.”

  The man’s chest puffed out. “I can do that. I swear it will be done.” He left as fast as politely possible.

  “Nice,” murmured Diarmin. She shrugged, and he got the feeling that though she might be good at getting what she wanted, she didn’t like doing it. Diarmin didn’t know what she had written, but she had assured him earlier that it would spur the king to meet them.

  Slightly less than an hour later, they were ensconced in the private audience chambers. Feeling naked without any defensive devices, Diarmin focused on the room. They were seated in two hard wooden chairs, two other simil
ar chairs in opposite corners, and one very large, cushioned chair with wide arms on the other side of the room. Between them, dividing the room from top to bottom, was a force field that Diarmin looked upon with envy. It was obviously top-notch and would allow absolutely nothing through. Not even sound, he guessed, eyeing the speakers near the ceiling on both sides of the field.

  A door on the other side of the room opened, and the same security guard entered, then held it open for someone else. The guard looked directly at Raahi, clearly wanting her to know that he had done exactly what she had asked. She smiled at the guard, but then Diarmin heard her catch her breath as the king entered. The security guard bowed himself out as the king slowly made his way to the chair. He simply stared for a long moment, brows lowered, mouth in a grim line. Finally, he pressed a button on the arm of the chair, and the speakers crackled to life.

  “So. I am here. You will tell me the meaning of that message before I have you imprisoned for your actions.”

  Diarmin was stunned at his angry reaction and, not knowing what had been written, went ahead with the plan.

  “Your Majesty. I come to you with great news, but I had to speak only to you because there is also a dire threat. I have located something that you very much would like to have. The problem is that others are also searching, and it is not safe to reveal without being assured of protection.”

  The king’s impassive face revealed nothing of his feelings. “Well?” He flicked his fingers in an impatient gesture.

  Diarmin glanced at Raahi. She removed her wig and gloves and quickly cleaned the makeup off her face with a cloth she’d kept in her pocket. The king’s reaction was instant as he bounced to his feet with indrawn breath almost exactly like hers had been when he came in.

  “Hello, Father. I’ve finally managed to return home.”

  ***

  “Sit down, Mom,” said Quinn as he sat on the hotel bed, legs stretched out, reading a book. “The maids will clean the room, and you’re making me jumpy.”

  “It should have been me, not Diarmin.” She continued making her own bed and started on the dishes left from their breakfast.

  “Like Dad said, your face is too well known thanks to that spectacular rescue and subsequent posted reward,” said Allison, eyes never leaving the screen of her own personal computer at the desk. “Besides, Dad signaled that everything is fine, going as planned.” She kept clicking and peering intensely.

  “Yes, and we all know what happens when it’s too easy,” Lenore replied sourly, more than a little annoyed that her children were acting calmer than she was. But she wasn’t used to being the one who stayed put while others did the dangerous work.

  “What could happen inside a palace?” He turned a page. “They are probably doing better than we are. Better food, better beds.”

  “Inside a palace where who knows how many people are working for the prince or the slave organization.” She deposited the dishes outside the door and looked around for something else to occupy her time.

  “Aha! There it is.” Allison chuckled, and Lenore came to stand behind her. “It’s amazing how accurate this ‘rumor’ of the lost princess coming home is.”

  Quinn snorted. “Yes, amazing when you are the one who ‘leaked’ the rumor, Allison.”

  “What bothers me is that none of the information we ‘leaked’ about the prince has been reported. On any of the news feeds,” added Lenore.

  “Well, maybe they have a silly superstition about defamation of their rulers or something,” said Allison.

  “More likely the information is being covered up.” Lenore frowned. “At least the princess is less likely to conveniently disappear now that the public knows she has returned. The only problem is that the organization’s contact at the palace is aware of what is being attempted.”

  “Don’t worry, Mom. Jonah’s watching and will let us know. And Dad can take care of himself.”

  “I still think I should be there.”

  “Mom?”

  “Yes, Quinn?”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  Quinn closed his book and swung his legs down, so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Sensing the seriousness, Lenore sat the on the other bed, facing him, waiting patiently as he gathered his thoughts.

  “It’s about Dad.”

  Allison turned in her chair to face them.

  “What about him?”

  “Well,” said Quinn. “He’s been different since…after… after we got back from…Lord Timatay’s house.” Now Allison slipped off her chair and climbed to sit cross-legged on the bed next to Quinn. This action showed Lenore that the two had discussed this and were worried.

  Lenore knew what they were getting at but tried deferring. “That was a very trying day. He is probably still feeling the effects of the stress.”

  “But you went through even more, torture and stuff,” added Allison. “And you haven’t acted differently.”

  “And…back on the ship,” Quinn bit his lip but continued. “I accidentally overheard you and Dad talking. Dad said, ‘Seventeen years, two months and three days, to be exact.’ What was he talking about?”

  “I think that’s something you should ask him,” said Lenore.

  “From what little I heard, I feel that it would upset him if I did.”

  “It would,” said Lenore, more to give herself time to think. Should she tell them? Could they handle it? Would it change their opinion of their father? If she did tell them, it wouldn’t alleviate the worry; it might make it worse.

  “Please, Mom,” said Quinn. “We need to know.”

  Allison nodded.

  Lenore knew she should discuss it with Diarmin first, but this couldn’t wait. After all they had been through these past weeks, she felt that they might be able to handle it. And if she didn’t tell them, they would likely try to find out on their own and that would be disastrous. Hoping she wouldn’t regret it, she spoke.

  “That time that your father was talking about seventeen years ago. It was the last time that he killed someone.”

  ***

  Diarmin was restless and beginning to feel trapped. The tests on the tattoos were successful, the implants he had so carefully inserted within the ink were another item of proof. It should mean that he was free to go, but they kept finding reasons to keep him there. They wouldn’t even let him retrieve the body of the companion from the city where he had hidden it. Instead, they had insisted that he tell them where, and they should be on their way back now to conduct more tests. He knew any test they could do would pass, but even if it didn’t, Diarmin was sure it wouldn’t matter. The king was convinced she was his daughter, even becoming angry at the people who questioned the story of her capture and sale. Diarmin’s interview had been more of an interrogation, and they kept asking the same questions over and over as if to catch him in a lie.

  Well, he was lying of course, but he was an old hand at fabrication, so he stuck with his story. Yes, he, and fourteen others, had been hired by a security agency to assist in the rescue of slaves. No, he hadn’t known of the reward, but it wasn’t uncommon with rescued slaves. It was part of the agreement with the law officers of the agency that the hired men get any rewards when they returned the freed slaves. Yes, he had done so on several planets. No, he hadn’t wanted to retrieve the body of the companion, but Maya insisted and promised more money if he did. And so on and so on.

  In between questions and testing, Diarmin was kept in a very comfortable sitting room with food and beverages whenever he wanted, entertainment available, reading, video, whatever. It was quite luxurious, and there were a woman and man by the door “for his protection.” He knew they were watching him and not going to let him leave.

  He tried to distract himself with various entertainment cubes since Maya was off with the king again, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong. He wandered over to the food selection again, not hungry just bored.

 
“If I’m here much longer, I’m going to get fat,” he said to the guards, but they didn’t move a muscle. “Maybe I should get a workout. Got a gym anywhere nearby?” Again, silence. “Never mind, I’ll find it.” Diarmin walked toward the door, and they moved to stand in front of it.

  For a wild moment he considered taking them both down just to show them he could and wipe the superior looks off their faces. But that would not be wise, so he took a step back, grinning as charmingly as he could.

  “I suppose I can do sit-ups right here.” He grabbed the fancy rug from under the table and dragged it toward a clear spot, trying hard not to think about his reaction to two guards just doing their job. He didn’t “take down” people anymore and hadn’t felt the desire to in a long time. It helped that Lenore had done nearly all the ass-kicking for years. He focused on the exercise to purge some adrenaline.

  He had only got to thirty-two sit-ups when the door opened, and Maya came in.

  “We have a gym, you know,” she said with a light laugh. Diarmin got to his feet, appreciative of the outfit she was wearing, a soft, pale blouse with flowing sleeves and matching loose pants. They had only been here a few hours and already she looked regal.

  “My faithful friends thought it better for me to exercise here,” he said, waving his hand to indicate the guards.

  Maya looked at them and frowned. “Wait outside please.”

  Now there was a reaction. “Uh, Your Highness,” said the woman. “We are supposed to…”

  “You can guard as well on the other side of the door. I don’t want strangers staring at me while I eat.”

  “But—”

  “I think I am safe with the man who rescued me and brought me home,” she retorted, deliberately misunderstanding. She lifted her chin. “Out!”

  They both bowed and left. When the door closed, Diarmin chuckled.

  “You didn’t take any time fitting in, did you?”

  She snorted and waved the sleeves a little. “I am very unused to this type of outfit. It even reminds me of certain clothes I was forced to wear…”