An Indecent Proposal

by Jaleta Clegg

  It was curious, Lowell thought as he let himself out of the room, how life changed. It was never quite what you expected.

  Chapter 65

  Max glared at the garden three stories below his balcony. Escape that direction would be impossible. A full squad of palace guards made certain of it. Another half dozen were posted outside his suite.

  "You obviously do not understand the gravity of the situation," the seneschal droned in his nasal voice.

  Max tried to tune him out, but the man was impossible to ignore. His voice stabbed like a needle into one's brain. Max leaned on the railing, watching guards march past the peonies while his captor lectured him on propriety.

  "Running away is completely inappropriate, as is most of the company you've chosen lately. It is dangerous and stupid. You are the only heir to the throne. It is time you accepted your responsibilities."

  "What if I don't want them? I'd abdicate right now and save you the trouble of chasing me across the Empire, except you won't let me. If I'm really such an unsuitable candidate for the throne, then let me go. Pick someone else." Max kept his back to the Seneschal, Robert, or something that started with an R. Max didn't bother to learn the servants' names. They were never around very long.

  "You can't abdicate. You are the only clear successor. If you step down, or get yourself killed, it will lead to—"

  "Chaos and destruction. Yes, you made your point quite clear. Because my cousin Roderick wanted the throne and made a move to get it, he was imprisoned and branded a traitor. Because I don't want it, I'm a traitor and disloyal to my dear father. That makes total sense to me. Why do we bother with a hereditary ruler, anyway? It's so old-fashioned."

  "Because tradition keeps us stable. You will be the figurehead for thousands of worlds."

  "Whether I want it or not."

  The man pinched his lips together, further narrowing his thin features. "You are the only child of the Emperor. The line of succession beyond your family is very unclear. Fifteen different families all lay claim to the throne. If you step down, it will take years to untangle their claims. In this time of civil unrest, it is best to have a clear line of succession."

  "Civil unrest? I heard we were at war. Isn't that what Dace said, repeatedly? Before she disappeared with Vance. Maybe I should invite her to the palace as my advisor. Then at least I'd have someone interesting to talk to while I make the official wardrobe changes every hour."

  The Seneschal drew in a long breath, his nostrils pinching together before flaring. "Your father wishes you to join him this evening. Your instruction as the next Emperor will begin in the morning. Your father is not as young as he once was. It would help greatly if you were more responsible and could ease his burdens."

  Max threw himself into a chair, draping one leg over the arm. "You mean become as stuffy as he is? Where's the fun in that?"

  The man stalked from the room. He didn't slam the door, that would break his decorum.

  "Trapped, that's what I am." Max spoke to the empty room. He'd never wanted to be Emperor. The endless rules and ceremonies stifled him. Which was why he picked up unsuitable women and stole his father's yacht as often as he could. If he pushed enough of their buttons, maybe they'd find someone else.

  He picked at the rich embellishments covering the chair back while he swung his foot back and forth.

  "I just want to be free," he whispered.

  "Do you?"

  He leapt out of the chair, startled by the soft feminine voice. She stepped forward, out of the shadowed corner. She wore white and silver, with a thick veil of lace hiding her face and hair, and delicate gloves covering her hands. "How did you get in?"

  She laughed, a silvery tinkle of sound. "Do you really want to know?"

  "Yes, because if you got in, I can get out."

  She glided closer, her long skirt swaying across the tiled floor. "But you can do so much, if you're Emperor. Think of the power, the position, the prestige."

  "Think of the hours of dull ceremony, of endless pomp and pageantry. I'm a prisoner in this palace. I'm not allowed outside of my rooms without an escort of at least a dozen guards. I hate it."

  She stopped half a pace away. Her perfume wafted through the air, a clean scent of ice and wild stone mountains. Max closed his eyes, breathing it in. She smelled like everything he wanted but couldn't have.

  "Who are you?" It escaped in a breath as he impulsively reached for her veil.

  She laughed again as she slid to the side, evading his hand. "Not yet, your grace. Or is it your highness?"

  "Max, just Max. Please." He dropped his hand, and vented his despair in a long sigh. "I have a lifetime of being called anything and everything except my name. I'm trapped forever. This is the end."

  "On the contrary." She tugged her glove free, one slim finger at a time.

  Max licked his lip. Was the woman trying to seduce him? Her mysterious air had him intrigued, but he wasn't that easy. What would she do if he made her work for it?

  Her skin was white, delicately traced with pale blue veins. Her nails sparkled silver in the sunlight from the window. She waved her hand, curling her fingers through the air in a graceful move, like a dance without music. Her skirt swayed gently as she stepped closer to him. Her breath stirred the lace of her veil. He caught a glimpse of her eyes beneath. They were pale, and hinted of secret delights.

  She lifted one finger to his lips, tracing the edges with her nail.

  "It's only beginning," she whispered.

  He closed his eyes as her nail left a trail of fire over his skin.

  Chapter 66

  "You work too hard." Roland curled in the overstuffed armchair, tucking his tattered brown robe around his bare feet. "Come watch a vid with me."

  "I don't have time," Will answered as he shuffled through a stack of paper. "I've got dozens of reports to read."

  "That's why you have a staff. Maybe I should make you go talk to the Gypsy Council for me. I hear they're arguing again. It will at least get you out of your office for a while."

  "I will when we reach Tebros."

  "We've been orbiting Tebros for the last day and a half."

  Will set his papers down. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  Roland shrugged. "I did. You were too busy to listen."

  The door to the office slid open. His secretary entered with an armful of printouts. Data cubes spilled from the top of the stack when she set it on Will's desk. "The latest reports just arrived. These were all marked urgent, but I think this is the one you really want to read." She tapped the top sheet.

  "He's going to watch a vid first," Roland said. "That's a presidential order. I can have you arrested if you don't."

  Will leaned close to the paper, scanning it quickly. He yanked it from the stack and read it more carefully. "Not good."

  "What?" Roland dropped his feet to the floor, leaning forward.

  "What is she thinking? Stupid, stubborn woman." Will slammed the paper onto the desk, spilling half the stacks onto the floor. He didn't even glance at them as he pulled up his screen and started typing.

  Roland moved to stand behind Will's shoulder. "Will, what's going on?"

  The secretary answered. "Latest report on the position of your trade advisor. She isn't headed back this way. She's headed straight into Syndicate territory."

  "Who?" Roland pulled the report out from under Will's hand, scanning it quickly. "At least they found Dace. But why isn't Jasyn coming back here?"

  "Because she doesn't want to." Will slumped back in his seat, rubbing his hands over his eyes. "She never wanted to. But why is she taking her ship into Veelyn Sector? We don't have any control out there. And neither does the Empire. It's all Syndicate now."

  The secretary leaned one hip on the desk. "We know that, but on the surface, it looks like business as usual. She wouldn't know. If she keeps her head down, she might make it through safely, but not if she spends too much time there. Petrel clan can send them a message at least, or maybe Ra
ven. They've got a few ships still out that direction. We can warn them."

  Will scratched his hands through his hair. "And tell her to hurry back."

  Roland set the paper back on the desk. "We can give Jasyn some time, can't we? She doesn't have to come straight back. The syndicates won't dare touch her."

  Will shook his head. "Who knows what they'll do. Lowell doesn't have the power he used to, despite being named head of the Patrol. Dace has too many enemies. They should have come straight back here, where we could protect them. They're moving out too far."

  Roland straightened, tugging his brown robe straight. "How far away is the Phoenix?"

  "Clear across the Empire. We can't reach them, Roland. Not until they choose to be found again. This ship will take months to get close, months we can't afford to spend."

  "I'll have Shonteroy send the messages." The secretary left the room.

  "What can we do?" Roland asked, his shoulders slumping. "Are they really in danger?"

  "Always." Will slowly crumpled the paper in his fist. "Always."

  Author's Note

  The adventure is coming to a climax, only two more books to go. I hope you've enjoyed the journey as much as I have.

  I have to thank the people who've made this possible. Mostly my family for their support and encouragement and willingness to put up with me having angsty moments where I question my sanity in pursuing this. And my fans and friends who keep asking for the next book. Your comments mean more than I can say. Your advice and help have made the books better. The emails chewing me out for keeping you up all night made my day.

  Now on to book ten: Phoenix in Flames. No teasers, because I think I've left you hanging long enough and given enough hints.