by Kimber An
“I’m afraid to move my head or this thing’s going to fall off.” Junior pointed at the tiara.
“You look like a princess and that is exactly what you will soon be.” He took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. “I’ll take a picture to send to your mother.”
“Dad.” Junior lowered her voice as she walked along with her father. “Human males like large breasts, right?”
“Yes.” Delano grumped. “Not me, of course. I think your mother is perfect.”
“Well…you do realize…”
“What?”
“Mom’s girls don’t stand up by themselves anymore. It’s my fault. She nursed me until I was over a year old; fourteen months, I think.”
Delano chuckled softly and patted her hand. His face reddened. “You were a very lucky baby.”
Minutes later, Junior craned her neck to peer out the window of their main transport vehicle. She watched the glistening ocean on the city’s outskirts as they approached the white Imperial Palace at the foot of the mountains.
A household official greeted them on the landing pad. Guards escorted them into the gathering chamber to await their summons into the Imperial Presence.
At first, Junior was preoccupied with looking over her new surroundings. The ceilings loomed cathedral-like. The Great Hall formed the centerpiece, perfectly flanked by lesser halls and chambers, all gleaming white. Silver murals of the moon and stars glittered on the ceiling.
Dad tightened his grip on her.
Junior looked around the chamber to see all the young males focused on her.
Naana moved in close at her other elbow and their aides drew up around them.
“It’s about time,” Dad grumbled, leading her after a footman in long silver jacket. Through the towering double-doors they went together.
Junior looked back at the towering doors closing on Naana and the rest of their entourage.
The Empress sat enthroned surrounded by the white marble walls and ceiling. Her throne was gold and silver, the back of it rising above her in an enormous disk and etched to resemble the Moon. Her crown rose in an enormous sunburst design. Her silver, gold, and white gown layered in the richest of all Menelaen fabrics. So fragile and small, she nearly vanished beneath it all.
Glistening statuary of her ancestors lined the way, some naked like ancient Greek gods and goddesses and others in full armor.
A red carpet encircled the Throne. Delano knelt on the leading edge of it and Junior copied him.
“Rise, Viceroy Delano and Princess Rowan,” the Empress spoke in a deep, yet feminine voice. With these simple words spoken by Her Imperial Majesty, they were royalty.
Viceroy Delano rose, as did his princess. “Most gracious, Your Majesty.”
“Your beauty is stunning, Princess Rowan. The manner in which you broke into the Archives…“
Junior finally focused on the Empress’ eyes. Blue. Compelling blue and alive. And so very familiar.
“…was ingenious. Like your father, you have the ability to think in new and innovative ways. I have no doubt you will serve the Empire well.”
Junior found she could not speak. Whispering tickled her ear, but no one was there and she could not comprehend the words. She swallowed sickness down into her stomach and didn’t realize her knees had gone weak until her father caught her by the elbows.
Delano glanced down. “Please forgive my daughter, Your Majesty. She’s never met an empress before.”
The Empress’s small lips curled. “Of course. Now, then, Viceroy, it has been brought to my attention some of the noble caste are concerned for the safety and proper education of the Princess.”
“Pardon?”
“The Minister of Family Affairs has informed me requests for Courtship Rites with Her Highness mount daily.” Empress Araina released a sigh, her eyes drooping with age or sadness or both. “If only my son had lived…Ariez, my son…”
“Ariez?” Junior didn’t realize she’d spoken the name aloud until she comprehended the Empress’ gaze fixed on hers.
“Yes, my son, my only son, murdered by the Intari shortly after the Prince Consort died.” The Empress briefly caught forehead in hand and, for a moment, she was only a grieving mother. “You would have made him a lovely bride, my dear. He was handsome, devout, and good, so much like his father.” Composing herself, she resumed her formal demeanor and addressed Delano. “My step-son, Lord Kaliban, ranks first among the Princess’ suitors. I realize his personality is…uh…less than warm, but sacrifices must be made in difficult times. He insists he’s passionately in love with your daughter. Once the Marital Bond is complete and a child is conceived, she will be happy enough. As you know, Princess Ara cannot bear children. In all likeliness, Kaliban will succeed her on this throne. The match will ensure your family’s dynasty, Viceroy. Perhaps, it is in the Princess’ best interests to remain at court.”
“Your Majesty…” Delano stumbled over his words before gathering them up in a second of determination. “I do appreciate imperial concern. However, Princess Rowan is still a child by human standards. Furthermore, I must have an heir of my own and I cannot sire more offspring. My wife is past childbearing age.”
“Yes, this is why Queen Olivia was accepted as consort, but you must realize I cannot accept a human consort for your daughter. Her children must be sired by a Menelaen. As the Imperial Crown Princess, her firstborn child will ascend this throne. The second son will succeed you on Denahi. You will not be without an heir.”
Junior felt her father’s frozen senses.
“Pardon me.” Delano cleared his throat. “Your Majesty, surely you’re aware of previous human/Menelaen couplings. I will not risk my daughter’s sanity, even for the Throne.”
“The medical board has developed therapy which can enable a human mother to sustain a Menelaen pregnancy.” The Empress gripped her armrest. “Surely, Princess Rowan will not reject Kaliban’s advances, knowing she will be mother to the next generation of imperial children.”
Junior expected her father to glance down at her, but he remained steadfast.
“My daughter cares nothing for politics.” Delano nearly chocked.
“Nevertheless, the Princess is of age under Menelaen law. The choice is hers alone. Princess Rowan, Lord Kaliban would be pleased to welcome you into the Imperial Household. Will you accept his initiation of the Courtship Rites?”
“No!” Junior saw a flash of blue eyes, not the Empress, although she was astonished. “He’s bad.”
“Is that what your father told you?”
“No. Dad won’t talk about boys with me.” Junior couldn’t imagine how she knew Kaliban was bad, in fact. “I want to stay with my father.”
Dad squeezed her hand and he could breathe again.
“Very well. For the time being, a remote world may be a safer place for Your Highness than the capital. This matter does not need to be decided now.” The Empress returned her attention to her newest vassal. “Viceroy Delano, do consider what I have told you. I understand how difficult it is to release a child into adulthood, but it is an inescapable rite of parenting. Now, go.”
“As you say, Empress,” said the new Viceroy, bowing deeply, as did his princess, and they walked out.
“Dad?” Junior whispered as they were escorted out the grand hall to their waiting transport. “Why would Menelaen doctors invent drugs to help human females not miscarry Menelaen babies?” She was quite sure she knew the answer, but she wanted his reaction.
“The Menelaens are desperate. Their population is shrinking at an alarming rate and only humans are remotely compatible. I’ve tried explaining to the Imperial Counsel that humans would resist conquest to the last person, leaving no breeding population at all.”
“Did anyone listen?”
“A few, like Admiral Park. Only peace could facilitate the kind of marriages Menelaens need and there’s little chance of that happening if the hereditary aristocrats have their way. They’re hung up on the p
ast and out of touch.”
Chapter 15
A reception of congratulations awaited them in a cavernous banqueting hall. Junior entered on the hand of her father, all in white and silver. Their glittering guests kneeled so suddenly their robes and skirts made a great whooshing sound. She hadn't realized being a viceroy was that big of a deal. A seed of trepidation grew and churned in her stomach. They took their seats behind a long white table.
The settings were silver and everything else white or clear like crystal, except for her father whose red cape indicated his status as a military commander. His new helmet had a gold peak in the front and gold wings on the side to indicate he was now royalty, as well.
A few minutes into the banquet, Junior noticed no one approached her or sat near
her, though they conversed with her father quite easily. About the fourth time a couple of aristocrats walked in a wide semi-circle to avoid her, she feared she might throw up.
The dancers performed then, which helped her nerves. They were similar to Cambodian dancers, except their peaked crowns and wide collars were silver, instead of gold, and their sheath dresses were white.
Junior acclimated to the sounds of the banquet, her nerves calming. In doing so, she could focus on individuals talking. She couldn’t remember having such keen hearing and wondered if, instead, she heard them in her thoughts. Most of their conversations centered on politics, some on food, and a few on traditions she couldn’t begin to understand. Her name came up many times. The discussions focused primarily on her hair color and her misadventures. Then, a particular conversation caught her attention.
The conversation took place between two fat male politicians with cobalt blue edged mantels.
The One wore a gray doublet. “The new princess is astonishingly beautiful.”
Beautiful? The Empress had said something similar. Junior assumed it was mere politeness. She had a mirror. She knew she wasn’t truly beautiful.
By the drape of his mantel, the Other was a centurion. “Has Her Highness accepted any applications for the Courtship Rites?”
“No. My son asked me to submit his suit only yesterday. I was informed the new Viceroy considers the Princess too young for the Marital Bond,” said the One.
“Her Highness is nearly seventeen years old!” Heavy sigh from the Other. “My own son will be so disappointed.”
“I am not ashamed to say I was relieved when my son’s suit was rejected. He is not a warrior. He would not have survived a Challenge of Worth against Lord Kaliban. You have two children. I only have one.”
“Did you know Princess Rowan can conceive at any time and give birth yearly?” The Other’s tone shook with fear though he inflated his chest to disguise his apprehension. “Whoever she marries will soon sire more than enough children to secure his position.”
Junior blushed scarlet and cupped a hand over her mouth. She watched her father deep in conversation with Admiral Park. When he finished a sentence, she leaned over and said, "I want to go. I don't feel well."
Her father gestured to their aides with one hand.
Naana immediately appeared to escort her from the reception, along with a dozen
new female security guards posing as ladies-in-waiting.
Walking out with her small army, Junior knew bondage. The young males purred. The females gawked, many of them now wearing their hair and dresses long and flowing too. There were no equals among them. She was no more real to them than a statue. A statue has no feelings to be considerate of.
“Princess Rowan.” A young man without a hair on his head waited for her in the foyer, eyes a beguiling gray.
Instantly, the nanny brigade closed ranks.
“Lord Kaliban.” Naana stepped before her. “Viceroy Delano is not…”
“Irrelevant,” interrupted Kaliban. “The Princess is of age and I have the Empress’ full support. Princess Rowan, will you speak with me?”
“Uh, sure.” Junior slipped around Naana.
“Alone.”
Junior felt her attendants’ extreme tension and also a burning anger inside herself, but instinct told her she needed answers. “Naana…” she consciously didn’t add ‘please’ “…take the others and wait for me by that pillar.”
“Yes, Princess.”
She’d come a long way from the girl who couldn’t keep her mouth shut to save her life, but she didn’t have time to feel proud of herself. She narrowed gaze on Kaliban. “This is as alone as you will ever be with me.” She glanced at her attendants glaring at him, hands on sword hilts.
“Let us not play games, Princess. Where is Ariez?”
“Ariez?” Junior had also learned not to let on how little or how much she knew when people asked her questions. “Elaborate.”
“I have seen through your ‘stupid little human girl’ routine. You may have fooled your father, but you cannot go on like this forever. Already you are teetering on the edge of sanity from Incompletion of the Marital Bond.”
“Ariez.” Junior’s thoughts tumbled over the Empress’ eyes, so familiar, but mostly over her dizzy spells and fragmented memory.
“You must realize Princess Ara will tolerate no competitor for the Throne, and I will succeed her. If your father is hiding Ariez…”
“Hiding Ariez? How could he…”
“Delano is a fool if he thinks he can rule the Empire through your son. Ariez will kill him first and I will kill Ariez. Come away with me now and you will not suffer the Pain of Severance.” Kaliban looked over his shoulder to a dozen Imperial Guards in gray uniform and short capes, masked helmets over their faces. “I assure you, Delano cannot follow where I will take you. If he is wise, he will accept our marriage and enjoy his status as father of the new Menelaen empress.”
“Geez, you’re cracked.”
Kaliban lifted a hand towards her face
“Leave.” Junior glowered at him.
His face reddened, sweat poured. And he fled from her, hands covering his cheeks.
Naana rushed to her side. “Princess, you did well. I worried your instincts would not translate.”
“I burned him with my anger.”
“You rejected him before he could intoxicate you and initiate the Courtship Rites without your consent.”
“Date-rape.” Junior shifted gaze to her. “That’s what humans call it when a boy’s romantic skills are so pathetic he has to drug a girl into having him.”
“Come, Princess, before the Imperial Guards take issue with the Viceroy over this matter.”
Ariez reclined on a bed in the med-bay of his flagship. He wore black silk pants, his smooth, finely toned chest bare. A silver medical device covered the left side of his face, revealing only his eyes, nostrils, mouth, and chin. Having never grown a whisker, he removed Admiral Jackson’s beard stubble with a phased energy device in one hand and a small mirror in the other.
An older Intari man wearing a sleek tan uniform beneath his short, off-white cape, entered and held up a data-pad. He sported the usual tattoo on his greenish bald head, but no jewelry. “Admiral.”
“Commander Net. What are you doing here?” He set the removal device on a medical instrument tray. To his right the physicians worked together, reviewing his physiology on their computer grid.
“The newest intelligence report on the Delanos, Sir.” Net handed over a data-pad.
Ariez read it quickly in Jackson’s hand. "This is nonsense."
"All of our operatives on your homeworld agree. These events did occur exactly as described in the report. Princess Rowan… "
"Princess Rowan?"
"Her Highness was re-named Rowan by her father. The Empress elevated Delano to Viceroy of Denahi."
"Yes." Ariez studied her name. “’Rowan.’” He tried it out, rolling the ‘R’ off his tongue. “Yes. ’Rowan’ means ‘red‘ in the ancient dialect.” He studied a paragraph, smiling. "She knocked the head off the sun god statue and replaced it with the urn of the Last Prophet?"
"The Bis
hop took it as a sign from his god the Menelaens have lost their way. All the priests shaved their heads and crawled around the temples as penance."
Ariez tossed Jackson’s report back into the ugly toad’s hands. "Princess Rowan has destroyed her mother's career. She may very well bring down the Viceroy as well.”
Commander Net nodded. “Indeed. The nobles are fighting over her like crazed tarkees, but it is to Lord Kaliban she will be wed. This is how Princess Ara will secure religious support. If Delano doesn’t concede to the match soon, he will die in a carefully staged accident.”
Ariez lifted his chin and rubbed the smoothness of it.
“Admiral, leading members of the Guard have asked me to relay a concern.”
“What concern?”
“The Guard is concerned about your returning to your natural appearance before planned.”
“What do you think will happen if Kaliban sires offspring by Princess Rowan before I can claim what is rightfully mine?” Ariez rose from Jackson’s bed and walked slowly to a wall mirror.
“Kaliban’s offspring can be easily disposed of in the womb.”
“You have no idea how fiercely human females protect their children, regardless of who sires them. The Princess would resist and that resistance could escalate into civil conflict. Furthermore, her mother’s an Alliance star captain. Do you really believe the humans would stay out of it? You are organizing a political coup. You do not possess the resources for interstellar war.”
“You have been made Admiral of the Defensive Fleet. If the Alliance or the Menealens discover your true identity prematurely, it could ruin everything we’ve worked for, regardless.”
Ariez hardened his face against the little troll. “The Princess will recoil if I appear to her as an old, ugly human.” He tossed the little mirror onto a convenient computer console. “In a short time, I will rescue her from Delano and bring her into Intari space. This will draw Olivia out of hiding. Without an Heir Designate or a consort, Delano will be forced to abdicate his rights as viceroy of the Denahi System, along with all five of its battle groups.” He shifted a glare to the ugly little man. “You can then take back that star system while I’m removing Princess Ara from my throne.”
