Embrace the Passion: Pets in Space 3

by Smith, S. E.

  “I bow to your judgment.”

  F’rrh materialized in a burst of golden sparks, sitting on the bureau next to the box bearing her likeness. Slowly the third eye opened.

  “Spooks me every time she does that,” Liam said.

  “One should grow accustomed to it,” the jenfellini said in Ruatsarn. “I plan to remain on this ship.”

  Astonished, Tassia took a step backward, colliding with Liam. She had to pause a to take a breath. “But what if I stay with my great aunt? And Liam remains with me?”

  “There are few remaining who can open the box and summon me,” F’rrh said. “I can slumber through centuries if necessary. My path doesn’t lie on the planet below, a fact I can tell you. No more.” The third eye blinked shut, F’rrh curled up as a cat might, tail to nose and appeared to go to sleep before morphing into shimmering gold motes and fading from view.

  “Well, quite the declaration,” Liam said, sounding amused.

  She elbowed him, unable to decide if she was annoyed at the spirit or with him, or both. “Don’t get too confident. Jenfellini often make convoluted statements subject to various interpretations, not just the one you’re hoping for.”

  “I’m hoping to be with you,” he said, arms around her again. “Going to show me this gem?”

  Tassia sighed and picked up the lacquer box, flipping it over and manipulating the secret levers in the wood. “Not only is this F’rrh’s home, it’s a cunningly designed puzzle box.” She was stalling a bit. In all the years since she’d taken the gem, she’d never removed it from F’rrh’s box. Even Xandrina was unaware she had it. The old woman had assumed Tassia wanted F’rrh and had risked so much to snatch the jenfellini’s box that horrible day. There was a click, breaking her reverie, and the secret compartment slid open.

  Liam didn’t know what he’d expected but certainly not the soft blue light which flooded into the bedroom as the drawer opened, nor the stone as big as his fist which Tassia lifted out of the jenfellini’s box. Which must bend space and time even more than I’d realized, if that giant rock was hidden in there. The box was in no way roomy enough to have concealed the pendant. Three dimensional, faceted and polished to be like glass, the incredible Goddess Heart of Ruatsarn blazed with internal fires, glimpsed as the stone swung at the end of the heavy gold chain. “Wow. And your mother wore this?”

  There was no answer. He took a closer look at Tassia and was alarmed by her pallor. She dropped the necklace to the deck and fainted into his arms.

  To his relief, she was reviving even as he placed her on the bed, before he could worry about calling Dr. Shane. Tassia’s eyelids fluttered open and she sat up with a gasp, hand to her chest. Her body twisting in one giant shiver, she asked, “What happened?”

  “You opened the box, took out the necklace and passed out cold,” he said, realizing the priceless jewel was lying on the deck. Now he bent over to retrieve the stone.

  “I had a terrible flashback to that morning.” Tassia rubbed her eyes, which were tearing up. Her voice was quavery. “I saw—I saw—”

  “Horrible things.” Liam finished the sentence for her when her voice evidently failed her. “All the more reason to give this to your great aunt and walk away. No wonder the RNR is after you—it must be worth a solar system’s ransom in cold credits and then of course there’s the symbolic value.”

  She touched the pendant where it swung from its heavy chain in his fist. “I’m glad to hear you speak not only of the monetary aspect. The stone is a major religious artifact, a symbol of our goddess. Although of course from the reports you gathered for me to read, I learned the worship of Normeia has declined under the Gradmirov rule.”

  The wistful note in her voice touched his heart and he rushed to offer comfort. “But your great aunt is a firm believer. She can give this symbol the proper home it deserves. Anyone who truly believes can take comfort from her possession of the stone. And she— unlike you as a private citizen—can display the gem without fear. The Sectors protects her.”

  “And when she dies?”

  He shook his head. “You don’t have to bear the weight of the entire Ruatsarn legacy nor try to solve its interwoven problems.”

  She touched his cheek with a smile. “So you keep telling me.”

  Liam took a deep breath. “You were supposed to die that day, with your entire family and thank the Lords of Space or your goddess or whoever, you miraculously survived. You got your life back. But that doesn’t mean you’re obligated to fight hopeless battles on a galactic scale. Especially when the population of the Ruatsarn system overwhelmingly prefers the current regime and its way of doing things.” He had to work hard to keep his frustration from showing in his voice. While he admired her sense of duty and loyalty, he was terrified she’d let those attributes—or the influence of her great aunt—pull her away from him and fulfilling but ordinary life he believed she was entitled to live out.

  Tassia lifted the gold chain from his fingers and got up from the bed. “I’m not dizzy any longer. Let me find a suitable bag for this and then we should be going. I’m expected at my great aunt’s estate at a certain time and we can’t be late.”

  * * *

  Ordinarily, Liam would have checked out a CLC Line groundcar from the office at the spaceport but, since this was a personal mission, he rented one instead. When they arrived at the Ruatsar-court-in-exile’s embassy, he noted it was in a high end district of the city, and the building was embellished with costly carved stone trim and gilded ornamentation. From the way she was eyeing the building’s façade and neighboring estates, he believed Tassia was paying attention to the details with a critical eye as well. As they left the car and walked toward the private entrance in the east wing, she stopped and stared at the legacy Ruatsarn flag waving in the morning breeze. The Grand Duchess’s personal flag bearing her coat of arms, featuring entwined flames with a crown enclosing them, hung below it. Tassia’d been quiet ever since departing from the Nebula Zephyr’s shuttle bay and although he was anxious about her frame of mind and the decisions she might make today, he decided it was better not to intrude on her thoughts.

  She’d asked the ship to make her a special outfit—a deep blue, knee-length sleeveless dress with a matching blue jacket, trimmed in black embroidery. The two piece combination was conservative yet striking and set off her ebony hair, her porcelain complexion and her amazing eyes to perfection. Liam was no connoisseur of women’s clothing but he approved of this choice. She projected the air of being a powerful, confident woman here to take care of business.

  He was here to make sure she got the proper respect and had her request heard, wearing a civilian version of his security dress uniform featuring a blaster he’d have to leave with the guards at the entrance no doubt. What they didn’t know about the other weapons he had secreted on his person wouldn’t hurt them. He stifled a grin.

  Tassia had the giant gem wrapped in a scarf and placed at the bottom of her black attaché case.

  Squaring her shoulders, she climbed the steps leading to the massive entry door, guarded by two men in gold and white uniforms, but with serviceable blasters riding at their hips. “I’m Princess Alynnskaya Oleavna,” she said, “And I have an appointment with my great aunt.”

  Liam admired her take charge approach, no dodging or minimizing her claim to be the long lost princess. The guards kept their wooden demeanor but allowed Tassia into the embassy, Liam at her heels. A minor functionary greeted her and led them into a sparse office.

  “The fifth minister will be with you shortly,” he said, giving them a condescending glare as if they should consider themselves lucky he even allowed them to have chairs.

  “Not too promising so far,” Liam said as the young clerk departed with his nose in the air. “Good thing you gave me a crash course in Ruatsarn or I’d be bored.” He chuckled to show he was kidding, but he was relieved his old military translator implants had latched onto her native language with ease.

  “It’ll
be a long day,” she replied, sitting straight backed in the chair, hands on her lap. “Is there any coffee?”

  He checked the side table, happy to have something to do, but the carafe was empty. “Not even room temperature water.”

  True to her prediction, the day was a protracted series of interviews. She was grilled about the detailed layout of the palace and gardens, who the servants were, what their duties had been, the food preferences of every member of the royal family, the pets’ names, and as the day wore on, the questions shifted to details about her family members, as well as what Liam guessed must be obscure points of their religion. At each level the rank of her interrogators rose, as did the expensiveness of their garb, and the offices Tassia and Liam sat in were more ornate. After the third such session, decent food and cold beverages were served. Liam believed the Ruatsarn were impressed despite themselves at the increasingly detailed questions she answered, steadily and without hesitation.

  I’d be convinced. She knows this stuff they’re asking inside and out.

  In the midafternoon, Tassia graduated to meeting with the Grand Duchess’s personal assistant, and the inquiries became quite intimate regarding details of her parents’ physical condition and other aspects of the inner workings of the imperial family unit. She showed no sign of flagging, no impatience.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” said the man finally. He left the office with an unhurried pace.

  “Next will be my great aunt,” Tassia said confidently, leaning back in her chair.

  “I don’t know how you’ve kept your temper, given some of what the interviewers wanted to pry into,” Liam said. “I wanted to slug that guy for asking you such invasive things about your mother. If she had scars or tattoos or took lovers—I mean some of it I can rationalize but the majority of his questions were way out of line.”

  She smiled. “I could tell you were upset on my behalf. Thank you for keeping hold of your temper. The staff here needs to be very sure of my claim before allowing me near my great aunt, which I understand and expected. I’m glad to see due diligence being done.”

  The assistant returned, remaining in the doorway. “Her Grace will see you now, if you’ll follow me.”

  Tassia rose from her chair, picking up her attaché case and paused for a deliberate moment to look at Liam, one elegant eyebrow raised. “Did you think we’d achieve so much today?” Making it clear she wasn’t to be rushed, she paused in front of an ornate mirror on the wall and checked her makeup with unruffled calm.

  He stepped forward to take her elbow. “You’ve been amazingly patient and persistent—how could the Grand Duchess refuse to see you?” He bent his head closer to hers. “Whatever happens next, I’m with you all the way.”

  “I know and I appreciate the unwavering support.” She grazed his cheek with a kiss, ignoring the assistant tapping his foot impatiently and clearing his throat. Smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from her skirt, she inclined her head to the Ruatsarn official as if he were the petitioner here and she was graciously granting a request. “You may show me to my great aunt.”

  The room he entered next was massive, with gilded panels, huge works of art featuring massive paintings of people in archaic fancy dress, still life arrangements and fanciful scenes he supposed were from their mythology. A plush carpet lay underfoot, and a small crowd of richly dressed courtiers turned as one to stare as Tassia entered. Liam took it all in with one quick glance, but the focal point of the chamber was the small, white haired woman seated in a gold chair at the far end of the room. Her dress was elaborate, golden fabric beaded and embroidered in a style he recognized from some of the portraits around them. Definitely rooted in the past and the old glories of Ruatsar under the Oleavnas.

  Tassia’s breath quickened, and she seemed impatient for the first time all day, although her pace remained steady as she walked among the whispering, pointing courtiers. She didn’t deign to glance at anyone but held her head high.

  When they reached the end of the carpet and stood a few feet away from the Grand Duchess, Tassia curtseyed. “It is wonderful to see you again, Madame.”

  “We never met before,” the old woman said, her voice stern and cold as she contradicted Tassia.

  “Ah, but we did.” Tassia remained undaunted. “You came to Ruatsar for the Fall Festival of Normeia when I was five. My father, goddess rest his soul, remarked at breakfast that morning you’d only come to ask for an increase in your allowance—”

  There was a horrified gasp from somewhere in the room, but Liam kept his focus on the duchess, whose thin lips tightened as her hand clenched more tightly on the embossed golden top of the cane at her side.

  Tassia went on with her memories. “I wasn’t invited to the formal reception, being so young, but later, I was chasing my kitten in the garden and came upon you in the gazebo, involved with, shall we say, your very personal guard? I remember thinking he was so handsome, such a glorious uniform—”

  “Enough.” The duchess was emphatic but not displaying anger. She raised a peremptory hand to cut off Tassia’s apparently artless but somewhat barbed flow of memory. “Your black and white kitten was under my chair. I remember now.”

  “The kitten had marmalade stripes, and he was sleeping in the flower bed, Madame. You and I chatted for several minutes and petted the cat until my governess came to fetch me with profuse apologies. I was sent to bed without supper, but I hardly hold that against you at this late date.” Tassia looked around the chamber. “Is Fedore here today? I’d like to renew my acquaintance with him as well.”

  Liam thought the assistant was going to have an apoplectic fit at this breach of etiquette, Tassia talking about one of the duchess’s lovers, but the Royal herself merely smiled. “Alas we parted ways many decades ago, child. Handsome is as handsome does, and I moved on. You may approach.” She raised her hand, and Tassia took three steps, put her fingers under the old lady’s hand and kissed it with a brush of the lips against the veined skin. The duchess kept her hold on Tassia and rose to her feet, leaning on the cane. “There is no need for your bodyguard to linger. You will be protected by the troops of Ruatsarn now.”

  “He’s my dear friend and companion,” Tassia said, “Not a mere bodyguard. I wish him to remain.”

  Giving Liam an assessing gaze that reminded him of inspection by high ranking officers in the old days in the service, the duchess nodded her permission.” You and I will retire now to take our tea in private and chat further.” She beckoned to her assistant as she walked toward a door in the closest wall, leaning heavily on the cane. Tassia and Liam trailed in her wake, matching their speed to hers. Over her shoulder the elderly woman said, “You do understand he’s not going to be an asset going forward? We’ll have to find a more suitable companion or two for public events, certainly for the grand ball, men appropriate to your rank. Someone who could take the throne at your side. You may keep the bodyguard as your lover if you’re discreet.”

  Liam fought the urge to insert himself into the demeaning conversation, but Tassia had asked him to keep a rein on his temper today no matter what was said to him or to her. He honored her request now, but he had to grit his teeth to do it as he passed through an archway right behind her and into what was obviously a private sitting room. Scanning the space, he saw a black lacquered box sitting on a bookshelf off to the side and suppressed a grin, amused to find the grand duchess had a jenfellini of her own. He wondered if it was any better behaved than F’rrh. Liam was just as glad the three eyed creature didn’t seem to feel the need to participate in this meeting.

  “Grand ball?” Tassia asked, eyebrows raised. Liam noticed she ignored the remark about the as yet unknown man ‘taking the throne’.

  “I shall have to introduce you to my court, to my supporters. We’ll begin the planning once these formalities today are concluded.”

  “Tea is served, your grace,” said the assistant, closing the door to the larger room, ensuring their privacy for the proposed chat. He took a pos
ition against the carved wooden panel as if to physically bar entry by unauthorized persons.

  Emerging from a door flanked by two ornate tapestries, servants moved through the room, two carrying silver trays laden with dainty pastries, while a third poured tea into antique china cups decorated with floral motifs and gold accents. The duchess sank into the nest of gaily embroidered satin cushions as a small enameled wooden table was set up for her, with two cups and a selection of the refreshments. The fully laden trays were deposited on tables nearby and the servants left the room as quietly as they’d entered. A second chair was brought by one of the white gloved servants before he too departed. “Sit,” the duchess said, personally handing Tassia her tea.

  Liam moved to take his place behind Tassia’s chair. No one was offering him tea and he smothered a grin at the idea of one of those dainty china cups in his huge hand. The scene had become surreal to him, like being in a historical trideo adventure. What must Tassia be thinking? He hoped she wasn’t having a flashback to her childhood. Standing at parade rest, he watched the duchess. The old lady’s lined and heavily made-up face was set in neutral lines, not cheerful, not hostile.

  “There are many things you’ll need to understand, my dear,” the duchess said as she sipped her own tea and then nibbled at a frosted cookie. “Perhaps the most important is to maintain the royal facade, the pomp and circumstance. My supporters and donors quite revel in it. I suppose I wouldn’t know what to do without the servants and the trappings of the old life myself. I’m too advanced in age and set in my ways to change. We’ll be able to raise quite a quantity of credits in connection with your search for a suitable consort and the related social activities. I don’t suppose you hung onto any of the jewels. Of course, being a minor child, you wouldn’t have had any yourself but your dance teacher was quite clever and grasping. She had an affair with your father at one point—did you know? He did love dancers. Her amazing ability to dance was one of your mother’s charms for him as well.” She sipped her tea, and Liam observed how shrewd her faded eyes appeared.