by Eva Delaney
Castor cleared his throat. “Captain Bellatrix, you’re not dressed for dinner.”
I jerked my gaze away from the gun so that my plan wasn’t obvious. “What the hell are you talking about?”
He furrowed his brow, looking every bit the spoiled prince who had never hungered for a single moment. His dark hair was tied back without a strand out of place. Despite being a pilot, he looked perfectly comfortable in his jade and gold tunic. The gold brooch glinting on his shoulder was worth more than I made in my whole life.
“You didn’t find the dress in the closet? The shoes?” Castor said.
I laughed at him. “Getting fancy didn’t cross my thoughts.” I put as much disdain as I could into my voice.
“Don’t…don’t all women want to get dressed up? You were trapped in a closet for days—”
“Not trapped. Locked in,” I corrected him.
“Well…yes, that is accurate. Nonetheless, wouldn’t you want to clean up and don a fine gown?”
I gaped at him, waiting for him to reveal that he was being sarcastic. He watched me and waited, just as patient. As the silence stretched on, it dawned on me that he was being serious.
“You could be torturing my friend,” I said.
“Hardly. Someone else carries out the mind reading.”
I barked a harsh, bitter laugh.
He frowned, lines furrowing his otherwise perfect features. “I have promised to treat you well, so a proper dinner is waiting upon us.”
I was about to tell him to shove his dinner up his ass but stopped myself. He was offering me a way out of this room. I didn’t know where I’d end up. It might be a place with more guards or it could be a room that was easier to escape. Maybe I could make a run for it when in the halls—if he didn’t have my legs cuffed while in my fancy dress. Maybe I could take him hostage again. It wasn’t hard the first time.
All I had to do was play princess and stroke his massive ego. Fuck. I’d rather be locked in a closet again. But Orion needed help.
I rolled my eyes at Castor. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll get dressed but only because I’m hungry as hell.”
He smiled, and I wouldn’t be surprised if his teeth sparkled like an ad for teeth whitener. “I knew you’d come around, Captain.”
I resolved to break at least one of those perfect teeth before dinner was over. No. Three. The thought warmed me as I quickly showered and dressed. It made pulling on a gown over my flight suit a little easier.
The dress caught the light as I moved, sparkling in scarlet. It fit close around the waist and flared to a long, flowing train. Thank the stars, it was long enough that I could leave my boots on underneath without anyone noticing. I didn’t plan on staying for dinner and would need to run.
The dress was the most expensive thing I’d ever worn. Why was Castor doing this? Why did he ask me to dinner and provide clothes that clearly belonged to a member of the royal family? This was well beyond any promise that Orion extracted—and Orion wasn’t able to hold Castor to his promises, anyway.
Then there was Castor’s talk about doing things together when this was all over. What the hell did that mean?
I defeated him and humiliated him in front of his fleet. This kindness must be the set-up to some sick joke or act of vengeance. Make your enemy feel at ease before thrusting a knife between their ribs. It hurt more that way.
Luckily for me, I was never at ease, so his little plan wouldn’t work. But maybe I could lure him into a false sense of comfort by pretending to fall for his trap. I only needed him distracted for a moment.
I nodded to myself in the mirror. That was what I’d do. Turn the tables on the prince yet again.
I took a deep calming breath before returning to the living room where Castor and the guards waited.
“—locals are rioting,” someone was saying. They stopped the moment they noticed me.
The Vinerans were giving the spoiled prince a hard time. I steeled my expression to hide my delight.
Castor gave me a quick scan up and down. It was the gaze of an expert marksman taking in a scene in a glance to look for weaknesses and opportunities.
I gritted my teeth. At least he had the decency not to say anything. He gestured to the door and I followed him into the hall. Another six guards were waiting, and the group of twelve closed in around us as we walked down the corridor.
I snorted.
“What is it?” Castor asked stiffly.
“You should have brought more guards,” I said.
The two in front of me tensed, their hands shooting to their blasters.
I was trying to lure Castor into a false sense of security, but if I acted obedient, he’d know I was up to something. Being defiant was the way to make him relax. Plus, it was more fun.
Castor studied me, grim and frowning. “I don’t know what to make of you, Captain Bellatrix.”
“That’ll be your downfall, Tor.”
He blinked, the only sign of his surprise. “Tor,” he said, tasting the name like leftovers to see if it was good. He didn’t react any further. Not a single emotion at all. He was much different in his royal quarters and in his fancy clothes. No snickering malice or cocky swagger. He was more subdued.
Civilized, was how he’d put it. Not swaggering among us barbarians like when he was on the Firebrand.
“What happened to my ship?” I demanded.
“You call that thing a ship?” he said, his voice honey-sweet.
I clenched my fists at my sides to stop myself from punching him.
He smiled at me sidelong. “It would appear, Captain, that someone cleared its flight and transponder records.”
Polaris, I thought with a rush of gratitude.
“Therefore, the vehicle—if you can call it that—is very much useless to me…or so I thought.”
“What did you do with it?” I growled.
Castor didn’t even glance at me. “I had it scarred with plasma blasts and sent back to Star Keeper with a message.”
My heart echoed in my skull. Dread clawed through my chest. “What message?”
“Winters was found, thanks to the willing tongues of the rebels Calpurnia Bellatrix. Orion Sirius. Polaris—”
“No—”
“Now, we wait for the barbarians to do something desperate.”
I staggered. Castor grabbed my arm to steady me, and I pushed him off me. Immediately, a guard gripped both my arms, tight.
“It’s all right,” Castor said, waving the guards back. “Captain Bellatrix is quite harmless.”
I nearly decked him for that. Instead, I glared at him with all the cold rage I could muster. He didn’t look worried. Of course not. Why would he be? He’d never had to fear anything in his life.
“She’s harmless to us, anyway. Her ship may be The Uprising’s downfall, however.”
There was a time when I wouldn’t have believed The Uprising would consider me a traitor. But that time was gone. They’d think we turned on them. They’d fall for the trap, do something desperate, and fail. Crashing and breaking against the Supremacy like waves against a cliff.
If I managed to warn them, would they even believe me?
Maybe not. But I knew one way to ensure they did. I had to bring Castor back to Star Keeper as a captive. They’d know we weren’t traitors then, and Castor could tell them all about his treacheries—and maybe reveal key intel as well.
We didn’t say anything else on the walk to the royal dining room. The Rigel royal family, who rarely visited, had a whole wing of rooms to themselves. Rooms that sat empty when they weren’t here. The dining room was the size of the Firebrand, minus the cargo hold. Gold tapestries hung from the walls and ceiling. Plush red chairs gathered around a wide table of real wood.
I rolled my eyes.
“Is there a problem?” Castor said.
“Many,” I said. “You could house three families in this room alone.”
His dark brows shot up under his hairline.
I didn
’t wait for to hear his horror or disgust. I pulled out a chair and plopped down.
He sat across from me. “I thought the wide table would serve us well. You can put your feet up without disturbing the wine.” A ghost of a smirk played on his lips.
“If I can’t upset the wine, what’s the point?” I said.
“Barbarians.” His voice was more amused than angry. “Wait outside,” he said to his guards.
I blinked. They blinked.
“I know how to handle a fight,” Castor said in that smooth, cultured accent. His gaze didn’t leave my face.
“You sure about that?” I said.
He grinned. He looked forward to a rematch. That explained the dress. He was trying to hobble me so he’d be sure to win. Pathetic.
The guards glanced at each other before backing from the room. The door hissed shut, leaving Castor and me alone.
Thirty-Seven
My heart was lodged in my throat. I was alone with the prince with little knives and forks on the table. Sure, there were a dozen guards outside the door, but the door might not be the only exit. I glanced at the ceiling. It was draped in silks, but they might be hiding panels and a crawl space.
Castor filled our cups from a decanter of red wine. He leaned back, languid and decadent, every bit the spoiled rich boy. All except for his jagged fingernails and callused fingers. His hands were the only sign that showed he flew his own ships.
“You almost look civilized,” he said, swirling the wine.
I glowered at him.
“What? You cannot blame me for expecting a certain level of…nicety.”
“I can and I do.”
He sighed. “I’ve never met a woman like you, Captain.”
“You should get out more. Shed the crown and the silks. You’ll find most women aren’t impressed by you when the weight of the Supremacy isn’t hanging over them.”
A crease appeared between his eyes. The only sign of a frown. “The weight of the Supremacy hangs over you, quite heavily actually. An anvil on a thin string threatening to snap at any time. Yet…” he gestured lazily to me, “this.”
I laughed. He didn’t even know what to call defiance when he saw it.
“Have a drink, please, I wouldn’t want to be rude,” Castor said.
I glanced at the wine. It could be laced with a drug to weaken the will or loosen the tongue.
“Ah, for fuck’s sake,” he said.
I blinked at the sudden dropping of formal pleasantries. He grabbed my glass and downed the wine in one long swig. For a moment, he wasn’t the spoiled brat but a flyboy trying to show off, just in better clothes.
Castor placed the glass down, gently, and the illusion was shattered. “You see. It’s fine.” He pushed his untouched glass towards me.
“You could have poisoned that glass instead,” I said.
“Or the food, or the plates, or the forks, or I have developed an immunity to all the common poisons used among the nobility as well as the barbarians. Really, Captain, if I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead a dozen times over.”
He was right. The realization sent a sick shiver down my spine. If I didn’t rescue Orion he’d die, and Castor would never face any consequences for it. Like on Sule when I waited for Castor’s laser fire to cut me down, I couldn’t stop him. Nothing would happen to him if he killed us.
I said nothing, and Castor glanced away. His fingers tapping on the table was the only sound in the room. “The wine is very expensive; two hundred years old, from Arthow. Please,” he said finally.
I shot him a skeptical look. Was he trying to impress or poison me? I wondered if I could skip luring him into a false sense of security and leap across the table to knock him out. It would be less annoying.
“I don’t care where it’s from or how much it costs,” I said. “I don’t care if it’s poisoned or perfectly fine. I don’t drink and I’m only here because I don’t know how long it will be until my next meal.”
He frowned. It was a stupid look that created a crease between his eyes and barely drew his lips downward.
“Nobody has spoken to you like this before, have they?” I said.
“No,” Castor admitted, slowly. “No one has. I don’t know what to make of you, Captain Bellatrix.”
There it was. He was confused about why anyone wouldn’t kiss his damn ass. That was why he was playing this game. I shrugged and picked up my fork. “Not my problem. Your ignorance is your own.” I dug into the food, downing it quickly like it was the tasteless, questionable stuff I was used to. This meal was so good that I wanted to savor it. But I wouldn’t give Castor the satisfaction.
“You’re not afraid of me,” he said, thoughtfully.
I was terrified of him and had been for years. But I wouldn’t let him know it because he didn’t deserve the ego boost. “Why would anyone fear you? You’re only a spoiled brat.” My heart was in my throat as I spoke and I worried it’d make my voice stutter. Thankfully, I got through the sentence with a steady voice. “You never suffered, struggled, or fought for a thing in your life. What’s there to fear from someone like that?”
“My high breeding is no more my fault than your low one is yours.”
I shrugged. “Well, you’re still an asshole.”
“Still sour over Sule? Really, Captain—”
I forced myself to laugh. “Bet you wished that tech glitch didn’t stop you from shooting me that day.” I shoveled food into my mouth so I could be rude by talking with my mouth open. “It would have saved you a lot of confusion and humiliation.”
Castor blinked. “Tech glitch?”
“Mmmhh,” I muttered, not bothering to look up at him. “The one that locked your guns on the first pass. Shitty ship despite all your money.”
I glanced up to see his humiliation and rage. Instead, he picked up a glass of wine and gulped. Good, if I could keep him drinking, it’d be easier to jump him.
“There was no glitch,” Castor said, staring at the wall. “My blasters worked perfectly on Sule, as you know. They worked before I circled you and your downed friend. They worked afterward when Livid Company swooped in.” He met my eyes. His gold gaze was steady as a laser sight trained on me.
“Whatever jammed the blasters was cleared,” I said, slowly sitting up straight.
“If only that were accurate, my life would have been much simpler.”
“What are you saying?”
“I couldn’t do it. I saw you hauling your injured friend from his fighter, both of you bleeding, and…I couldn’t open fire.”
“What?”
Castor laughed; it was a quiet, bitter sound. “An admiral of the largest fleet of the galaxy couldn’t shoot the only enemy pilot that rivaled him. Even worse, I aimed to disable ships rather than blow them up, and I commanded my people to do the same.”
“It can’t be…” But then, it would explain why all our ships had crash landed.
“They said I was a coward for it, and maybe they’re right.”
I gaped at him. I had always believed he wanted to kill me. He had haunted my memories for three years, circling above me to end my life in that fucking black and red ship. But he had never intended to kill me that day. That couldn’t be. I felt like the world tilted under me, and I was slipping helplessly toward a pit.
Castor stared at the wall, his gaze far away. “The Grand Empress…my mother…was most disappointed that you got away, as you’re planning to do tonight.” His gaze flicked to the fork in my fist.
I swallowed. “Then why bring me here, alone?”
“I enjoy a challenge,” he said, drumming his fingers on the table and grinning as though inviting me to attack. Maybe I should. We could fight this out and end it one way or the other.
I would, if not for Orion. I couldn’t risk failure when he was counting on me.
Castor watched me as though waiting for me to try something. I took a deep breath. Not yet. I forced myself to shovel another forkful of food into my mouth. I
leaned back against the plush chair and fixed him with my coldest, most disdain-filled stare. “You think you’re some kind of fucking hero?”
He blinked.
“You didn’t kill someone, so you’re owed a cookie? You think that I should thank you?”
“No…I want a way to fix my mistake and win back my honor.”
I snorted maliciously. “So you’re taking your failure out on Orion. He doesn’t deserve it.”
“I’m trying to save my people. You pleb wouldn’t understand the politics of it.”
“I understand that you had a moment of conscience. You saw that what you’re doing was wrong, and you hate yourself for it.” I somehow kept my voice level.
Castor gritted his teeth so hard that his jaw trembled. “You can still save your betrothed—”
I laughed at the word. “Is that how things work with you lot? Betrothed on the first date?”
“Or manwhore or whatever those boys are to you—”
“Bed fellows,” I said, not because it was true, but to derail Castor as he had tried to do with the woman on his lap.
He ignored me, as I had ignored his attempt. “Tell me where Agent Winters is. Tell me what Antares told you. All of it. Every word. What are you doing with him?”
I quirked an eyebrow at him. “What is it with you and Antares?”
“What did he say about me?” Castor leaned forward, his eyes hungry and worried. It was the look of a man who was trying not to snap. “Tell me,” he yelled. His voice boomed and echoed around the room. The commanding voice of a future emperor who wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Even though my heart was loud in my head and my hands were sweaty, I was going to disappoint him.
“Talk!” he shouted. “Why is he with you?”
I took a deep, calming breath, preparing to tell him to fuck off. After I threw the words in his face, I was going to lunge. This wasn’t the ideal time, but if he kept losing his temper, my chances would get worse. These might be the last words I say if the fight didn’t go well.
Okay, let’s do this. I tightened my hand on my fork and pushed back my chair.
