by Mina Carter
The fluttering of fabric caught her eye and she moved around a little. Shielded from her view by Rynn stood a woman, and at the sight of her, relief flooded Jac’s system. Despite the fact she wore a flowing gown in a style Jac had never seen before, she was instantly recognizable. Her features were identical to the woman Jac had been caring for over the last few months.
“Jessica?” she called out, venturing the last few steps down the ramp. “Jessica Kallson?”
The men in the group stopped talking, all turning to look at her. The frown instantly disappeared from Jessica’s face and she rushed forward, a smile on her lips.
“Jacqueline Wright… isn’t it?” she asked. “I remember you from home. Rynn says you helped him bring my sister here… Thank you so much!”
She threw her arms around Jac. Surprised, Jac returned the hug, closing her eyes for a second. The gesture of comfort and kindness was almost too much to bear and she pulled away quickly. “Sorry,” she murmured, gesturing to Jessica’s clothes and then her own grubby ones. “Don’t want to get you dirty.”
Over Jessica’s shoulder she noticed the two long-haired lathar approaching, but her gaze cut to Rynn’s broad shoulders and back as he walked away over the landing pad. He was going, leaving her to these people’s mercy, without so much as a goodbye.
Misery overwhelmed her even as Jessica took her hand, smiling as she said, “Allow me to introduce my husband, Lord Healer Laarn, and his uncle, Daaynal, emperor of the Lathar.”
Being on an alien planet, at an alien court no less, was very different to how Jac imagined. For a start, there was less spacey-type stuff. Instead of high tech suits and the like, Lathar men wore leathers. Like, all of them.
From what she could work out, the warrior class were the noble classes… and non-combatants were looked down upon. She’d seen a few about the place—pale, slender men who looked nothing like Rynn, the emperor, or Jessica’s husband, Laarn. They usually kept to themselves in a small group, scuttling out of the way of the warriors, who barely cast them a glance. When they did notice them, a sneer of disgust followed soon after.
It seemed like a futuristic medieval court. The few ladies in attendance were in elegant gowns while the men wore leather and armor, swords jostling for space with laser blasters at their hips. They were arranged into clans who all swore loyalty to the emperor—who, to Jac’s mind, was the scariest of the lot—but even within the clans there was rivalry and a hierarchy.
The K’Vass, the clan Jess now belonged to, were at the top, just under the emperor because of the two princes. That social standing appeared to have been extended to Jac herself, as a guest of both the emperor and Lord Healer Laarn.
“Be careful who you speak to,” Jess murmured as they swept into the hall. “Remember that they aren’t human, so something we think nothing of could mean something very, very different here.”
Jac nodded, filing the knowledge in her brain carefully.
After they’d arrived, Jess had taken Jac under her wing. Immediately she’d swung into action, organizing rooms and new clothes. Jac had expected something utilitarian, perhaps a ship suit or two, but the dazzling array of beautiful gowns and jewels had taken her breath away. After a bath in a tub she could swim in, she’d been primped and preened until she looked… well, she hadn’t recognized herself in the mirror.
Jac Wright had disappeared, replaced by an elegant Latharian lady. The shock had barely had time to settle before Jess was hurrying her out of the door to some meet and greet the emperor had arranged for her. It seemed that everyone wanted to meet the new arrivals and since Lizzie was still rocking the blue glowing tube look, that meant her.
“Try not to look at any male too long,” Jess continued, smiling at a hooded and robed servant—an oonat, Jac realized—as she took a couple of glasses from the tray she carried. “They’ll see that as an invitation. Likewise, there is no casual touching here. Not even putting your hand on an arm to push through a crowd. They’d take that as a sign you’re interested in them and it could get…violent.”
Jac felt like her eyes were on stalks. “Over me? Don’t be daft. I mean, I can understand them going gaga over you, but I’m no oil painting.” She looked around the room. “And way too old for at least half of them.”
Including Rynn, but that hadn’t stopped her, the little voice at the back of her head reminded her. She ignored it. Compared to Jess and the other women she could see… A delicate brunette stood next to a man who, apart from the fact he had short hair, looked a lot like Jess’ husband… mate, she corrected herself mentally. Over the other side of the room there was a tall, lithe blonde standing next to a warrior nearly as big as the emperor himself, while a petite black-haired girl scowled at the contents of the buffet table… She felt positively dowdy. Plain, even in her new finery. It was enough to have her running for the nearest exit.
Jess laughed suddenly, the sound so unexpected that Jac turned toward her in question. It was in rather poor taste to laugh at someone’s lack of self-confidence. But, rather than the amusement she’d expected to see on the younger woman’s face, there was honest confusion.
“You’re kidding me, right?” Jess asked. “Have you looked in a mirror? Growing up, Lizzie and I used to make up stories about you. That you were really some kind of Bedouin princess who had been stolen away to live in secret…”
“Wow. You did?” Jac didn’t know what to say to that. “Nothing so exciting, I’m afraid.”
“We did.” Jess nodded, the jewels in the hair piled on top of her head catching the lights above. “In fact, I’m surprised you actually made it here.”
“Oh? How so?” Jac lifted the glass to her lips and took a small sip. A murmur of pleasure broke from the back of her throat. It was sweet and sharp all at the same time and reminded her of raspberries and chocolate.
“Xaandrynn…” Jess stopped talking and looked around quickly. Once she spotted her husband safely over the other side of the room, she grinned and moved in closer, lowering her voice. “You know? The hottie who brought you here?”
“Was he?” Jac kept her expression level even though her cheeks burned. Hot didn’t do Rynn justice. “I didn’t notice.”
“Yeah, sure you didn’t…” Jess grinned. “I thought for sure he would have tried to claim you on the way.”
Jac refused to answer, looking away. Her cheeks were hot enough to rival a sun.
Jess laughed in delight. “I knew it! What happened?”
“He brought me here. There’s nothing between us. I promise.”
“Lady Jessica. A pleasure to see you again,” a new voice announced, making them both turn around. A young warrior stood in front of them, his golden eyes warm with interest as he looked at them both. Dressed like the rest of the warriors in the room, even Jac could tell he was barely more than a juvenile. His frame still had that gangliness of youth and he had only a few braids in his hair rather than the multitude the others wore.
“Coaar.” Jess smiled, and as far as Jac could tell, the emotion was genuine. “Congratulations on your first warrior’s braids. From what Laarn said, you handled yourself with honor and courage.”
The younger warrior practically preened at her words, his hand lifting to touch the braids in his hair. Jac figured they were brand new.
“This is Coaar’s first appearance at court as a warrior,” Jess filled her in. “He’s Laarn’s second cousin, I think… the K’Vass are numerous. He’s been under Karryl’s tutelage for the last part of his training before gaining his braids.”
“Congratulations.” Jac smiled, admiring the braids. She hid her smile as the young warrior puffed his chest out. “They look very nice.”
“I do believe Laarn is looking for you,” Jess pointed out. “It looks like he might want to introduce you to the emperor.”
The young warrior’s expression filled with hope and his head whipped around so quickly Jac was surprised he didn’t break his neck.
“Ladies, please excuse m
e,” he muttered hastily, all but running across the hall to where the older warriors were standing.
“They’re so cute when they’re that young,” Jess chuckled.
Jac buried her nose in her glass, taking another swallow of the fruity-tasting liquid. It really was delicious.
“Might want to slow it down a little there, sugar.” Jess grinned at her. “That’s a quick way to the floor.”
“It’s alcoholic?” Jac asked in surprise. “Are you sure? It doesn’t taste like it.” She’d worked in a bar for years, so she knew what every type of liquor tasted like, and she’d been sure this was just fruit.
“Oh yes… just ask Kenna over there. She’s managed to get herself plastered on it a time or two.” Jess nodded toward the girl with the black hair, who was now talking to a Latharian warrior with his arm in a sling. Jac blinked, as much because he was the first obviously wounded Lathar she’d seen as because at that very moment, he turned and fixed her with a hard look.
She sucked in a quick breath as he handed his glass to the woman next to him and walked over to her. No, walked was not the right term. He stalked toward her, predatory intent in every line of his body. Something about him screamed familiarity to her but she couldn’t place it, not with every survival instinct in her body going bat-shit crazy and telling her to run, to get the hell out of there.
Despite the fact he was wounded, younger warriors scattered in front of him, their movements betraying—not fear, she’d already picked up that no Latharian male would ever admit to the emotion—but a healthy need to be somewhere this guy was not. By about a hundred miles.
Unlike some of the others, he didn’t bristle with weapons, but the single blade sheathed across his back spoke volumes. Unless she missed her guess, he was just as dangerous with one arm in a sling as with both fully functional.
He was also blond, unlike the rest of the men in the room, but the sort of almost white, dead blond that would have come out of a bottle had he been on Earth. Somehow she doubted this guy cared enough about his appearance to bleach his hair. He was also older than the rest, with a big scar across his heavily masculine features.
“Deshenal,” Jessica said with a small bow as he came to stand in front of them. “Honored warrior,” she added in an undertone for Jac.
“My Lady,” the big guy replied, his dark gaze flicking from her to Jac and back again. “Perhaps you would do me the honor of introducing me to your companion.”
Unlike the other men they’d spoken to, this one didn’t bother with flowery language or compliments. Instead he just looked bluntly at Jac. She fought the shiver that wanted to crawl down her spine.
“Of course. This is Jac Wright, from Earth. Jac, this is General Xaandril, hero of the Nine Wastes and the emperor’s champion.”
Jac’s glass nearly slipped out of her fingers. Xaandril. She’d heard that name before.
“You’re Rynn’s father?”
He blinked, and then a smile graced the corner of his lips. There. She could see the resemblance now. Xaandril was an older version of his son, although how much older she had no idea.
“I am. I trust my son treated you with respect and honor on your journey here?”
She froze for a moment. If he knew what she and his son had really been up to on the way here, would that land Rynn in trouble… or her?
“He was the perfect gentleman,” she compromised, plastering a pleasant expression over her face. She’d played poker enough to know how to mask her emotions. And right now, she needed every ounce of that ability to stop the furious blush that wanted to crawl all over her face.
“Excellent,” Xaandril rumbled and she almost missed the flash of amusement in the backs of his dark eyes. “I would hate to think he was bringing dishonor on our family name.”
“Not at all,” she replied, both warming to the big warrior and scared out of her mind by him at the same time. “Your son is a credit to you.”
Xaandril inclined his head. “I must admit that has little to do with me, but I thank you for the sentiment.”
“How so?” she couldn’t help asking, the question out before she could stop it. If Xaandril hadn’t brought his son up, who had?
A slight flush hit the big champion’s cheeks and he looked away for a second, as if discomforted. “The life of a champion is a difficult one. No place for a child. Xaandrynn was fostered by my brother until he was old enough to start his training.”
“Oh, I see.” Jac offered a small smile. “Many children on Earth go away to school in their teens.”
“Latharian males start their training around four or five,” Jess filled in quietly. “They’re sent away to learn to become warriors.”
“What? That’s bar—” Jac cut herself off quickly. Just because she found the idea of sending a child away so young horrifying didn’t mean the lathar did. Her heart went out to the boy Rynn had been, sent away from everything he knew so early. “We would consider that very, very young.”
Xaandril studied her levelly for a few moments. “Humans are very strange. Xaandrynn studied with the best and became the emperor’s shadow despite his less than auspicious birth.”
His gaze flicked to one of the robed and hooded serving women that moved through the room with silent grace, and she could almost feel the distaste running through his big body. Her temper rose, both at the way the oonat were treated by their masters and at the implication that Rynn was somehow less because of his parentage.
“I would say the measure of a man is in his accomplishments, though, wouldn’t you?” she asked, adding a smile so sweet that it made her cheeks ache. “Rather than in the hand life has dealt him…” She didn’t add “and a crappy parent that didn’t deserve him,” but she so wanted to.
Jess went still beside her, shooting Jac a warning look. Xaandril leveled a look at her and Jac tensed her shoulders, waiting for the inevitable explosion. She didn’t back down, though. Instead, she looked the big warrior in the eye, her eye brow slightly raised.
Then Xaandril chuckled, his craggy visage breaking into a broad, and for the first time genuine, smile.
“I like you. You’ll do very well.”
She smiled, amused because he was but didn’t get chance to ask him what he meant. At that moment, movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she turned her head slightly. Rynn stood the other side of the room, face a mask of fury as he looked at her and his father.
Then he turned and stormed out of the room.
“Well,” Xaandril said by her side. “I think that answers how my son feels about you.”
Chapter Thirteen
Jac’s rooms were dark and, like most of the suites in this section of the palace, fitted with high level security systems. Not that that bothered Rynn in the slightest. Bypassing them to gain entry was child’s play to someone like him, and now he sat in the darkness, watching the door for her return.
Anger rolled through him like the waves of the Aratoria Oceans he’d briefly lived beside as a boy. Those few years he’d spent with his uncle as a child were indelibly etched in his mind. Like his brother, Draxx was a warrior, which meant the bulk of caring for a youngling had fallen to his mate.
Although ill herself, she’d done her best to care for an unwanted boy, giving him the love and affection he could never look to his father for. She’d died not long after he’d left to train as a warrior, yet even to this day he treasured her memory and that of those few short years. But nothing, not even remembering his nata, could pull him out of his foul mood as he sat and brooded.
Jac had been talking with other males. Gifting them with her presence, intelligence and easy smiles. His fists clenched at the memory. He’d walked into the formal gathering arranged to welcome her to court to find her laughing and smiling up at his own father.
On a normal day he’d have been able to cope with it. She was an open and approachable person and he had no claim on her. No say in who she spent her time with…
The corn
er of Rynn’s jaw pulsed. Who was he trying to kid? As soon as he’d seen her there, surrounded by other males, white hot rage had overwhelmed him. It had taken everything he had to keep his feet rooted to the spot and not do something stupid like storm over there and threaten the emperor’s champion himself. He might have been Rynn’s father and they often sparred, but that didn’t make any difference. Challenging him for real was tantamount to suicide.
Rynn’s expression in the darkness tightened dangerously. No. He could take his father. Xaandril was the emperor’s champion, a warrior whose honor ran through the very blood in his veins, and even though Rynn might have been brought up a warrior, he wasn’t any longer. He was an assassin… the emperor’s shadow. He worked in the darkness and didn’t need to look his opponent in the eye before stabbing him in the back. A serious fight between him and his father would end only one way. With his father’s death.
A sound outside the door warned him of imminent company, and he focused all his attention on the door. It cracked open, the warm lights of the corridor outside spilling into the darkness of the room in a bright wedge. It almost kissed the toe of his boot but he resisted the temptation to move.
“Thank you.” Jac’s soft voice floated to him on a whisper, the sweep of her skirts announcing her as she backed into the room. “No, no… I’m good thanks. I just need to get some sleep. It’s been a full couple of days.”
A feminine voice replied, the words too soft for him to make out, and he relaxed. Jac wasn’t speaking to another male then but probably Lady Jessica. The suites she and the lord healer shared were also in this wing.
Good. He surged to his feet, moving unseen in the darkness. If it had been another male, they’d never have found his body, but he was pleased to note as he slid into the shadows behind the door that the other voice was indeed that of Lady Jessica.
“Yeah, totally. You get some sleep, hun, and I’ll catch you in the morning.” There was a small silence and a rustle of silks. Even though the door was between him and them, Rynn’s mind filled in the two women embracing quickly before Jac stepped back.
