by Autumn Dawn
“In what? Need I point out that your wife is becoming attached to your ‘experiment?’ That’s not good for her. If the Leo-Ahni is false, Xera could suffer. I know you’re protective, and I don’t understand why you take the risk.”
“Our world is a lure. The girl claims she doesn’t want to go home, that they’ll send her back to a Khun’tat ship. If she wants to stay here bad enough…”
“Ah. But this assumes she tells the truth.”
“Yes.”
“And if she’s lying?”
Ryven’s eyes hardened. “Then she will regret it. I’m not required to allow her out of her room. She would discover it soon enough.” Harsh, his wife would say, but their need was desperate. He frowned as her imagined opinion popped into his head. His wife was not the keeper of his conscience. He would reward the girl for cooperation; that would have to be enough.
Chapter Nineteen
Ryven wasn’t the only one who had plans for the Leo girl. In a shadowy corner of the palace, others were making plans.
“They took her out of her cell today.” The voice was cold, calculating.
“I know, but I still don’t see what use she’ll be. They don’t trust her. She doesn’t have access to anything important.”
Tovark smiled. His teeth showed through his split upper lip. “She knows much about the Khun’tat and her race. She’s more valuable than platinum to them. If she disappeared, they’d be very upset. Imagine if he lost an asset like that and a wife at the same time.”
He studied the guardsman he’d bribed. The man felt it was distasteful associating with him, but money spoke loudly. The traitor wanted a smooth path to a better life. What he’d get was a knife in the back when the job was done…but he needn’t know that.
“I don’t like it. It’s dangerous,” the guard said.
“This should boost your courage. Think of the things it will buy.” Tovark flipped the man a coin, watched him weigh it in his hand. “Now, this is what I want you to do.”
Three hundred and thirty-one people attended Tessla’s party. By Xera’s count, three-quarters of them were women.
Her husband was quick to disagree. “Tessla always invites even numbers of males and females. You should know. Didn’t you see the guest list?”
“Then why do I count nine women hovering around your brother? Where are their escorts, their husbands?”
Ryven looked amused. “You’re protective of his honor? He’d never shame himself by dallying with a married woman.”
“And it’s okay to ‘shame himself’ with a nice unmarried woman?” she replied tartly.
“No, that presents a problem, too,” he said, laughter in his eyes. “If he asked me, I would suggest he find some who are not so nice. Sadly, he has not asked.”
Xera’s eyes narrowed, but good sense kept her from starting a fight. After all, he was behaving himself. Unlike his brother.
She was crabby and she knew it. That morning she’d nearly bitten off Ryven’s head over a trivial matter; only his even stare had brought her back from the brink of a tantrum. She knew the cause of her moodiness and resented it. One thing after another would slide out of her control because of this baby. How long before she could no longer exercise? Would she start throwing up everything she ate? She’d always been taller than her sisters, the big strong one. Now one little infant was going to turn her into an emotional wreck unable even to touch her toes.
Not that she wanted harm to come to the baby or anything. She just didn’t want…this.
Ryven saw her dark look and gently touched her arm. “It will pass.”
She exhaled moodily and subtly shook him off. “I’m going to go talk to your sisters. They’ve been full of advice lately.” They’d also assured her that the broodiness would pass. One of them had even shared a story where she locked her husband out of her bedroom one night, then tore into him when he didn’t make a greater effort to break down her door. His protests that he didn’t want to alarm her and perhaps harm the babe had earned him another night locked out—or would have, if he hadn’t kicked down the door the second time. He’d refused to have it repaired until after the baby was born.
Thinking about that made her smile.
Namae joined her in slowly threading a path through knots of people. It was a trick to nod and smile politely to avoid conversations, and Namae made everything easier.
“It’s good to see you smile,” Ryven’s sister said. “The broodiness has hit you hard.”
“I’m finding it difficult to believe I can be this moody,” Xera agreed. “I just want to hit someone all the time.” It didn’t help that she’d been forced to quit her martial arts exercises. Dancing hadn’t been forbidden yet, but right now that wasn’t nearly as satisfying as pounding a punching bag.
Namae nodded in sympathy. “Let me take your mind off it. Aunt Tessla has been spreading it about that you are her new protégée. You’d be surprised at the number of women who want to meet you. Some have already expressed interest on your opinion of their own party plans.”
Surprised, Xera said, “Why? Your aunt really directed most of the event. I didn’t do much.”
“That’s not what she’s saying, and when our aunt speaks, others listen. You’ll find yourself in high demand as a party organizer if you don’t take care.”
Xera stopped in her tracks. “Really?” She let the idea percolate and then smiled. “This wouldn’t happen to be a socially acceptable occupation, would it?” It sounded more appealing than the estate manager option her husband had offered, if only because it was something she’d found herself. She had a feeling he’d grumble about it, which only made it more enticing. The man got his way far too often, and just then she really wanted to spike his tire. Besides, she’d enjoyed organizing this.
Namae looked at her curiously. “Well, yes. It would raise your social status immensely. Of course, Aunt Tessla has never needed such a thing. She’s occasionally given advice to close friends, but nothing more. You’ll see after you’ve attended a few gatherings that ours are something special.”
Xera felt like the cat that’d discovered a vat of cream. “Do tell. Could I be paid for something like this? If I set up formally, that is.”
Now Namae looked perplexed. “Well, of course. Why would you want to, though? Surely Ryven is generous.”
Xera patted her hand. “Let me tell you about a wonderful thing called capitalism, my friend, and the little girl who teethed on it.”
Ryven had taken a moment to answer an urgent message and found himself in a quiet corner, away from the crowd. His business hadn’t taken long, but already he was anxious to return to his wife. He told himself she couldn’t get into trouble in this kind of crowd, not with Namae at her side, but he had an eerie feeling that she was making mischief. Of course, that was a normal feeling where she was concerned.
He turned to exit the small sitting room and saw one of the women who’d been circling his brother this evening—a woman that he himself knew.
“Hello, Commander.” Her bloodred eyes were framed with thick dark lashes, and her lips curved. “It’s been too long,” she said, and there was obvious flirtation in the glance she gave him.
“I think not,” he said coldly. What ever they’d shared in the past, he was married now. She knew that. If she had any sense, she wouldn’t be here.
Her lips formed the slightest pout. “I’m disappointed. I’d thought you might have tired of those hard blue eyes by now.”
“It shows you haven’t been thinking,” he said callously. “Do not approach me again.”
Her mouth opened in surprise, but she made no sound as he brushed past. There was nothing she could say.
He was surprised at his own fury. Women like her had peppered his past, and he knew no regrets. Had they met under casual circumstances, he’d have been polite. He was angry that she would dare approach him now, however, would try to tempt him away from his wife. He was not a man who swayed with the wind. Now that he’d c
hosen his woman, it was forever. If anyone couldn’t see that, he’d have to make it plain.
The best place to start was with his wife.
He found Xera speaking with a knot of women. He smiled just for her and placed a hand at her back. He looked at the ladies. “Excuse us. I need my wife alone for a while.” His words won a blush from her and smiles from the others.
Xera chastised him when they were out of earshot. “Isn’t that rather…obvious? You’ve been coaching me in the art of not showing affection so long that all that seemed rather risqué.”
He smiled down at her. “Perhaps I’ve been too conservative. We are newly married.” He felt a pang at her confusion. He’d gathered her culture was far more demonstrative, and wondered if she doubted his affection. He’d never wanted that.
He led her to a quiet receiving room and shut the door. He put his arms around her. “You’re beautiful, do you know that? I’ve been a fool not to tell you.”
Her eyes misted up, and she swallowed hard. It took her a moment to speak. “Thank you,” she whispered.
His heart ached. He should have told her sooner. “However you came into my life, I’m glad you’re here. You’re the best part of me. I’ve never found a woman as special, as memorable, as you.” She was crying in earnest now. He was afraid to compliment her more, as she didn’t seem capable of taking it. Instead, he held her and tried to ignore the tears soaking his shirt. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt such a sense of peace. He’d been right to tell her. Perhaps one day soon, she’d be able to speak of her feelings for him. Strange, how he hadn’t even realized he’d been waiting for her to speak first.
There was one other thing. “You said that I had been teaching you ‘the art of not showing affection.’ I hadn’t realized you’d viewed my actions that way. In my culture, a man proves his feelings by the things he does, not the words he says. Words can be false, but actions seldom are.”
She sighed. “It’s been difficult. I never know when it’s okay to touch you. Even looking at you warmly feels wrong. You’re very reserved.”
“I regret that you feel uncomfortable. Perhaps in time we will find a compromise.” Her tears were beginning to worry him. Perhaps an apology would help. “Forgive me, hiri’ami. I regret causing you pain.”
“I think we should go home. These parties are exhausting, aren’t they? Wait here while I say good-bye—it won’t take long.”
She nodded and dabbed at her eyes. She did look peaked.
Grateful for the excuse of her pregnancy, he went in search of his father. He was more than ready to be home.
Ryven didn’t wholly understand the change in his wife, but he was pleased nonetheless. It seemed his declaration of affection had moved her to unexpected heights. She laughed, she smiled. Best of all, she no longer seemed dismayed about the baby. He was perplexed, but he liked it.
A Scorpio woman would assume that her man loved her. No declaration of sentiment would be expected, only a demonstration. His own woman seemed to be the opposite. Only now that he’d spoken of his affection did she finally seem able to accept the little things he did for her as the romantic gifts they were. He hadn’t even realized how resistant she’d been to them until he saw her recent pleasure. She even showed joy in discussing the arrangements for the baby’s arrival—a thing he wouldn’t have dared to bring up before.
It made him wonder what would have happened if he had brought himself to say he loved her.
His father remarked on the change as well. “I hadn’t realized her vibrancy was muted until I saw her today. What has her so happy?”
Ryven actually blushed. “I declared my affection.” There were some things that were embarrassing to admit to one’s father.
The lord governor smiled. “I see. Well done. I am pleased to see her so alive.”
Xera’s newly bubbly attitude even coaxed a smile from the Leo girl, who had won a more comfortable room and daily walks through the garden by cooperation. On this day she’d just finished a long run down one of the many tracks around the park. She smiled at Xera as she dried her hair. “Life leaves you sweet today.”
Xera, who’d jogged a little with permission from her doctor, grinned. “It would be even sweeter if I could keep up with you. How do you do it? You run like a cheetah—that’s a very fast Earth mammal,” she explained. It was true; Rysing ran like she was born to it, as if she had four legs instead of two. She was incredibly graceful, moving with a kind of lope that left her guards in the dust.
Rysing snorted. “I am badly out of shape. It’s been forever since I could run anywhere. Given time, I might be something to see.”
Ryven, who’d joined them that morning after seeing his father, raised a brow. “I think we’ll ban you from any footraces, then. There’s simply no competition.”
Rysing grinned. “I will have to find a pet to run with, then. Surely you have something fast enough on this planet.” There followed a lively discussion on what might be wild enough to keep up.
Ryven looked at his wife and wondered if she would enjoy a pet. Her recent sweet temper had left him feeling indulgent. Anything that would keep that smile on her lips would be all right with him.
He realized what he was thinking and shook his head. He’d better be careful not to let her know just how much she’d affected him, lest he give in on something he’d regret.
Xera was still feeling the inner glow of happiness a few days later as she shopped in the market. All the colors seemed especially bright and vivid—or maybe it was her mood. She smiled ruefully at herself. She’d have sworn she wasn’t a romantic, but look what Ryven’s admission had done for her. She was even starting to think about baby names! Not that they’d been able to come up with anything they both liked. He wanted unpronounceable things like “Urjub” and “Werq,” and her choices sounded equally bizarre to him. At the rate they were going, the kid wouldn’t have a name until he was five.
A display of bright scarves caught her eye, and she thought of Namae. Shiza’s circling had taken on a new intensity, and Ryven’s sister was getting nervous. Maybe a gift would help to take the young woman’s mind off her nerves.
Xera was looking over the offerings when a conversation caught her attention. A woman dressed like a shop keeper was gossiping to a plain-faced man. She said, “Hear they found a human woman like Atarus’s wife. Got her down in the bay.”
Xera froze and looked at the pair out of the corner of her eye. Had she heard right?
The man looked intrigued. “Human! Are you sure? How do you know?”
“My husband works the space docks. He hears things. Guess her name is Harris-something. They’re keeping it hush-hush.”
Xera’s blood began to pound in her ears, nearly drowning out the conversation. Done with pretending indifference, she interrupted the pair. “I overheard what you’re saying. What is your husband’s name, and where exactly does he work?” she asked the woman. “I’ll reward you for the information.”
The woman looked startled, then uneasy. “I didn’t mean any offense, great lady. Just a little gossip.”
“I’m not offended,” Xera insisted. She handed over a coin. “Please tell me.”
Moments later Xera hurried toward a transport that would take her to the docking bay. While she acknowledged her security detail’s concerns about the lead, she would not be swayed. If there was the slightest possibility that her sister could be there, she wanted to check on it personally.
Her bodyguards contacted Xtal, her chief of security, who asked her to wait. A clever man, he pointed out it would take eight months for any of her sisters to reach her, and it had only been weeks since she had contacted them. It was physically impossible for them to have arrived already, even if they were prepared to take such a costly, perilous trip.
“You’re right,” she admitted into her communications link. “But I have to see for myself. It’s not as if I’m alone.”
He did not look happy in the viewscreen. “I’l
l send backup.”
Xera reached the dock and took a deep breath. She knew to temper her hope, but just the thought of seeing her sisters again made her unbearably tense. Could one of them really be here?
They found the workstation the woman had told them about, but there was no one in sight. One of her two bodyguards moved off to check the far side of the shuttle—and was shot to the ground like a dog.
Xera shouted as her other guard took her to the ground, but it was too late. A man grabbed his limp body off her and drew Xera roughly to her feet.
“Tovark,” she said grimly. He stood boldly in front of her, a sardonic smile on his ruined face.
“Women,” he said deliberately, “are very stupid.” He opened the shuttlecraft door in illustration. Rysing was lying there, unmoving. He smiled slightly at Xera’s aborted attempt to get to her. “Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to visit. This shuttle is scheduled to leave here in two minutes, and you’ll jump to hyperdrive in another two. Of course, any craft unlucky enough to be too close to you will be damaged, but that’s the cost of travel today.” He gestured for Xera’s captor to load her aboard.
Xera felt Rysing’s neck and was relieved to find a steady pulse. The girl had a bruised jaw, but didn’t look too banged up otherwise. Hopefully he hadn’t had time to extract a more complete revenge. She couldn’t think what the girl could have done to anger him.
She glanced at Tovark as he continued to speak.
“I suggest you strap in. I wouldn’t want you to be damaged for your meeting with the Khun’tat. You’ll come out of hyperdrive in a system where they’ve been particularly active. Think of me fondly when you arrive.” He smiled and started to shut the door, then paused. “Of course, there’s the chance that they won’t be there to meet you. One can never know about these things. In that case, you might make it to a little planet on the border. You’ve been there, Xera. You remember the biters.”
He sealed the door.
