A peculiar look creased Czarina’s face as her father spoke. To Symeon’s surprise, she appeared sorrowful, her lips drawn back, her eyes fluttering as if on the verge of tears.
“Do you think me so ignorant, I don’t see what you’re doing?” Kavya whispered.
“What am I doing?” Fang asked.
“You’re patronizing me. You’re asking me to believe other Shorvex will refuse to harm their Luxing servants simply because I do.” Kavya regarded Fang. “If you believe that, you’re the greatest fool ever sired on Phoenix. Well-bred elites might avoid sullying their own hands—their own consciences—with the foul work of killing disloyal servants, but can you delude yourself into thinking they won’t farm that sort of task out to others? You think you’ll foment revolution by calling on the Luxing to rise, but all you’ll do is trigger their slaughter in prisons or execution camps. The average landholding Shorvex might miss his old nanny or the cook who prepared his family meals for twenty years, but that won’t stop him tossing dissenters onto a pyre he doesn’t have to see.”
“You paint a bleak picture,” Fang said.
“Your canvas. Your paints.”
“But you’re wrong.” Fang leaned forward, meeting Kavya glare for glare. “You leave that pistol on the table because you have no inclination to harm Czarina who, despite the way she’s acted of late, remains in your heart a friend and confidant. That killer instinct is all but bred out of you, Princess, just as the yearning to lead, to transform, to seek the best for everyone in your circle burns in your blood. I should know. I helped put it there.”
“You might not care, and I understand that, but I didn’t enjoy hurting you.” Czarina scrubbed her tears away with a vicious swipe of her table napkin. “We had to show you what it’s like to live without power and in constant fear.”
“It was a ruse?” Kavya’s shock showed on her face.
“It’s no ruse, girl,” Fang said. “It’s the truth you cannot recognize. Freedom is an illusion, even Shorvexan freedom. It exists only because the people around you allow for its existence. The moment they decide you’re unequal, and therefore unworthy of it, that freedom dies.”
“Of all the Shorvex in this entire solar system, you think Kavya needs that lesson?” Symeon’s anger boiled inside him like super-heated steam. “The woman who, while banished, made of her home a refuge for her servants? She cares more about our race than any person I know, and that includes you.”
“I never doubted the lady’s care,” Fang said, nodding as if to concede the point. “In fact, through Czarina, and others, I cultivated it. These last few days have simply been the final lessons we wished to impart.”
“Does your arrogance know any bounds?” Symeon made no effort to hide the acid in his tone. “Is there any end to your manipulation of others? Do you prune your own family the way you have ours?”
“Of course.” Fang shrugged one shoulder—the master gambler unabashed when confronted with his cheating ways. “What sort of fools would I and my forebearers be if we altered the Shorvex without altering ourselves.”
“But the matches you’ve made amongst your own are in the open—”
Symeon, don’t!
“—unlike the marriage you’re planning for us.” Symeon gestured to include Kavya and himself.
Her eyes grew wide and her soft lips parted as she slowly looked back and forth between Symeon and Fang. “Marriage?”
Triumph at the look of surprise in Fang’s expression made Symeon want to slap the table the way he had during debates back at school. He had caught the old man on his heels.
Fang laughed, his initial shock replaced by a genuine look of delight. “Star born, you surprise me! I, who am so rarely surprised. But then, what should I expect from genes wholly out of my control? You were always the wild factor in this plan, Symeon, the one unpredictable linchpin. I’ve toyed with the idea of removing you from the equation a thousand times since Grand Duke Alexei had you birthed. Always, you found some way to stay my hand with your successes. Some of my brethren counseled other young men for the task, but out of all the possible choices we prepared for Kavya, you always topped my list.”
“You planned for me to marry Symeon?” The look of utter horror in Kavya’s eyes made Symeon wince. “And you have a list of other candidates for the job?”
“Not a subject I would have broached with you so early in our acquaintance, but yes,” Fang said. “Your match to a suitable husband is paramount to the Wuxia’s plans for centuries to come.”
“And you knew about this?” Kavya turned to Symeon.
“No! I guessed. It made sense given what I’ve seen of the Wuxia.”
“Which is a damned sight more than you ever shared with me.”
“Princess, I—”
“Would I have been given any choice in the matter?” Kavya turned a baleful glare on Fang and Czarina. “Or would you expect me to accept whatever man you threw my way like a docile cow? Is that another benefit of twisting my pedigree over the long years? Did you expect my blood to make me rut with your desired stud?”
Though careful to treat gently with the babe in her arms, Kavya shot to her feet, her chair tumbling over behind her. She handed the child to Anushka before turning back to regard Fang. “Whatever machinations you’ve wrought by pruning my family tree, know this, no one owns me. You will not by dint of fine words or even physical torture cause me to act against my will.”
Kavya marched toward one of the old-fashioned wooden doors, her skirt billowing out with each angry step. Fang’s guards made to stop her, but he shook his head, and they moved aside.
Symeon started to go after her, but hesitated. Fang would love that wouldn’t he? His star-born chosen dashing off to comfort his would-be rebel heroine. Alone in a society alien to them, how could they but find solace in each other’s company, and perhaps each other’s arms?
He’s manipulating me—us—even now, Symeon thought as he turned his gaze to Fang.
Does that change how you feel? Don’t you want to go after her?
“Go,” Fang said, unwittingly echoing Yudi’s words. “Whether you think I’ve orchestrated this moment or not—and I swear I haven’t—your mistress is hurting, Symeon. She thinks herself alone in the universe. Show her that isn’t true. Forget love, marriage, all that claptrap. Be a friend to her now—that is what she needs.”
Swallowing the conflict within, Symeon threw down his table napkin and hurried for the door.
* * * * *
Chapter 22
Symeon bolted from the dining room in time to catch a hint of Kavya’s skirts disappearing through a ground floor doorway. Chiding himself for his hesitation, he charged down the castle’s main stairs at a gallop, his boots thumping on the hardwood planks loud enough she must have heard. Whether that meant she would rush to elude him or slow to let him catch her up, remained to be seen. Given the size of Gomarov, he worried she could lose him if she wished.
To his relief, he found her standing at the end of an adjoining hall when he burst through the doorway. She gave him a flat look, her lips stylus-straight, one eyebrow raised, before hurrying out a servants exit into the castle’s vast acreage, leaving the door ajar as if inviting him to follow.
“Kavya,” he called the instant he reached the exit.
She did not look round. Already some meters removed from the servants’ entrance where he stood, Kavya continued at a brisk pace, her lovely sun yellow dress swaying with her gait. The land ahead rose, forming a small hillock crowned with a copse of ancient trees. Brushing past several robots trimming complex topiaries, Kavya headed that way.
“Should I follow or not?” Symeon whispered as he dropped from the porch in her wake.
Of course, you should.
“But she knows I’m here. If she wanted my company, she would stop. Wouldn’t she?” Symeon kept his pace sedate.
If a woman like Kavya wanted you to stop, she would tell you that.
“But—”
Symeon, Yudi’s voice, silent though it was, somehow took on a tone of rebuke. I may not always understand human interaction—unpredictability makes your kind infinitely fascinating—but I have observed millions of interactions between men and women, and I’m warning you now, if you leave off this pursuit and subsequently leave Kavya alone, she will likely never forgive you.
Symeon picked up the pace.
He found her at the top of the hill standing under the spreading branches of a large tree, her arms folded, her silver hair blowing in the light breeze. A dozen or more children, their lineages mixed between Luxing and Shorvex, splashed and played happily in a shallow stream that wound down from the hills several kilometers away. Their happy laughter and screams echoed along the banks where stood a handful of teens watching the younger kids play while a couple of robots likewise looked on, ready to help.
Though the sunlight playing upon the scene appeared natural enough, Symeon noticed a slight distortion in the light blue sky, a telltale sign of an electronic blackout screen designed to obscure observation from above. Several drones hovered quietly nearby, maintaining the camouflaged area. From overhead, this area would appear deserted.
“It’s sad they must hide,” Kavya said, following Symeon’s gaze to the drones. “Imagine if a satellite snapped an image of this happy play, and spread it across the empire.”
“It would spell the end of House Gomarov, and likely the Wuxia as well.”
Without warning, Kavya threw her arms around Symeon and buried her face in his neck. Caught off guard, he nearly stumbled, but managed to keep his feet, his heart pounding.
“Put your arms around me,” she whispered into the space where his collarbone met his neck. “If we keep quiet and close, we might evade whatever electronic snoopers are pointed at us right now. I’m hoping our abrupt departure caught Fang off his stride. Maybe we’re not under surveillance, but we can’t be too careful.”
Out of sorts in a way he had rarely experienced, Symeon slid his hands about her waist, unsure just where to put them.
“If you hadn’t followed me, I would have known for certain you were Fang’s creature,” Kavya said.
Told you!
Pride, and no small amount of attraction, though he would never admit that, sent a line of pure heat running through Symeon’s chest. She had wanted him to follow! So much so, she willingly ignored the taboo of showing affection to one’s slave. “Princess, I knew nothing about Fang’s plans.”
“But you knew about the Wuxia.”
He nodded, supremely aware of her soft tresses against his cheeks and the scent of her skin like vanilla mixed with roses.
“For how long?”
He yearned to lie. The truth might end this embrace forever. But keeping secrets from Kavya had already hurt her once. He wouldn’t do that again. “Since Yaya. Czarina told me.”
“I don’t know that I can fully trust you, Symeon. I fear I’m alone in this place.”
“You’re not, Princess. I’m—”
Gently, as one might the wing of an injured bird, Kavya pressed her fingers to Symeon’s lips. “For all I know, you’ll play me false, maybe you’re doing that now, but I’ll take the chance. Better to try and fail than sit and do nothing.”
“Try what, Princess?” Symeon desired her trust more than he would have reckoned. He had given her his loyalty on Yaya Island; he wasn’t about to turn back on it now.
“This.” She kissed his neck, and he shuddered.
Some of the children in the stream took notice of them. They made cooing noises, which prompted the teenagers to look round, smiling and whispering to one another.
Heart thundering in his ears, Symeon stood frozen like a small prey animal caught in a lioness’s jaws. His desire to kiss Kavya wrestled with a lifetime’s worth of training and deeply engendered fear. At all times prior to this moment, he would have been flogged and demoted for becoming so familiar with any Shorvexan woman let alone the princess of his duchy, and possibly future heir to the empire.
“We must convince them it’s real.” Kavya’s warm breath raised the hairs on the back of Symeon’s neck.
“What? Lady?”
“Fang, Czarina, all of them must think we’re falling in love.” She placed another scintillating kiss on his neck. “They can’t know we’re pretending.”
Oh.
“Oh.” Symeon swallowed, the weight of his disappointment and instant self-loathing so great he thought it might stamp him into the ground where he stood. “Of course, Princess.”
“Enough with that. Call me Kavya, or they’ll never buy what we’re selling. They have to think it’s real.”
“Why?”
“So we can escape.”
Symeon shook his head. “I don’t see how that’s possible. There are too many variables against us. Fang has armor and weapons and scads of guards. Not to mention, I’m not a pilot. Even if we somehow managed to sneak onto one of his ships, I wouldn’t be able to fly us out of here.”
“Isn’t it odd how, after all this time we’ve spent together, I the mistress and you the slave, that it’s you who continually underestimates me?”
He straightened in her arms. “I’ve offended you? What did I say?”
“Symeon, I started flying shuttles when I was twelve. I’ve kept up my skills in isolation in case I ever decided to leave Yaya. I don’t need you for a pilot. I need you to get me to a ship. Do that, and I’ll fly us free.”
“I apologize, Prin—my Lady.” Symeon shook his head. “Sorry, calling you by your given name is going to take some practice.”
“And underestimating me? How much practice will it take to shake that habit?”
“That won’t happen again, you have my word.”
“Good. We have to come up with a viable plan of escape. We can’t do that if we don’t trust one another. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“Now, for the next order of business.” Kavya drew back far enough to meet Symeon’s gaze and kissed him.
Fake or not, it hit him like a thunderclap .
* * * * *
Chapter 23
In spite of the ruse, Symeon knew he was falling in love with Kavya. Three weeks had passed since their first kiss. Many more, each cleverly timed by the princess so that different members of Fang’s family and guards would catch them, passed between Symeon and she. Some bordered on the passionate as dictated by Kavya alone—Symeon would never presume to press for more—while most remained chaste. Nevertheless, each lured him further into the tangle of his feelings, a jungle of falsehood and forbidden desire. He wondered if Fang’s distant grandmother, the maid who had won her master’s love, had shared similar feelings. Did worry that her lover’s passion might prove false leave her in a state of eternal angst? Did she fear, as Symeon did now, that her lover could never feel true affection for a Luxing?
“You’re quiet.” Kavya squeezed Symeon’s hand to catch his attention. They walked along a broad path east of Gomarov Castle, an entourage of guards and family encircling them on their way to one of Fang’s favorite picnic spots on the estate.
“Just musing on the beauty of the day,” Symeon lied.
Why not tell her the truth? Yudi asked . Perhaps she shares your feelings, but won’t allow herself to say it aloud. You might be surprised.
Shut up.
Kavya’s look told him she didn’t believe his words, but wouldn’t press him on them just now. “The weather is fine, isn’t it?”
A gaggle of raucous children ran past them, laughing, their mix of black and gold hair bouncing with their steps. They circled around Fang at the head of the group, scampering about until he playfully made to swat their butts, and they scurried away screaming in faux alarm.
Kavya took Symeon’s arm and drew close, a sign she wanted to say something meant for his ears alone.
“I don’t hate him. I think that’s the worst part. I want to hate him, but his vision is catching.”
Symeon nodded minutel
y. “His means are wrongheaded. Manipulating people without their consent turns my stomach. But I can’t hate his aims.”
“Exactly.”
“Let’s have lunch by the three fountains today!” Fang called over his shoulder to the thirty some odd people following him. The children cheered as most of the younger ones hurried down a side path ahead of Fang, charging into an unnatural clearing dominated by three oversized fountains, their basins made for wading.
“Make the water, Grandfather!” Cried Zel Lo, the four year old son of Fang’s second daughter.
Most of the adults and a handful of the older children laughed since Zel Lo had unintentionally told his venerable grandfather to urinate.
Fang, chuckling, scooped the boy into his arms and hugged him tight. “Not yet, Zel. First we eat, then we play.”
Kavya and Symeon helped spread thick drop cloths along the grassy perimeters surrounding the fountains while robots and some of the younger wives unpacked food shuttled down from the castle kitchens on fan-driven floating tables. In minutes, the smell of cooked meats and sautéed vegetables filled the air, capturing the attention of even the smaller children. Though the robots could have easily served the meal, Fang and his oldest wife insisted everyone fill their own plates as a sign of appreciation to the cooks. The ritual reminded Symeon of his home on the District Two farm where his parents had observed a similar custom every New World Day.
Fang and his third wife, Anushka, joined Symeon and Kavya after filling their plates with steaming ham and pan-fried potatoes. Anushka carried a sleeping Jing Fei in a mobile bassinet which she pointedly placed next to Kavya before sitting down. The princess gave her a pleased smile.
“I must apologize for my absence these past two weeks,” Fang said as he took a seat across from Kavya and Symeon. “Matters of war took me off planet.”
Salvage Mind (Salvage Race Book 1) Page 20
