Prince of Luster

by Candace Sams

  “No. Never. Especially if I can be included with all the birthdays, holidays, and special events. I want that so much, Marcos. To be a part of a family and have all that love to share. I … I’ve missed it so.”

  The earnest tone of her voice made him want to hold her even tighter. Nova never asked for any material possession besides a home. That could be nothing more than a tiny cottage by a babbling brook. She craved the things that mattered most. Family, peace, safety, and a future. He so desperately wanted to give her all those things and more.

  “I’ll bet you’ve never been on a picnic, have you?” he blurted.

  She pulled away from him stared for a long moment. “What’s that?”

  “It’s where you pack up some food in a basket, walk until you find just the right place, then put down a blanket, and spend the afternoon eating and talking. Then, just before the stars come out, you lie back and plan the future.”

  “Have … have you done this with others? Planned a future?”

  “No. And I’ve only been on picnics with members of my family. No one else. Not ever.”

  She sent him a brilliant smile. “Then, I’ll be the first lover to go on this picnic with you.”

  “You’ll be the only lover I’ll ever do that or anything else with from here on. And I’ll take you to the ocean and let you see the way the moon glows on the water at night. Or we’ll walk in mountain meadows where wild herbs are said to grow.”

  Tears formed in her eyes. “I’ll go anywhere with you. Just as long as we’re together. And as long as you’ll love me.”

  “How could I do otherwise?” He pulled her closer and draped one leg over her body. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever met who cares for who I am inside, Nova. Not for what I can do for them. And certainly not for my looks.”

  “Why do you say that? Are those the kind of women you’ve known?”

  “That was the kind of woman I attracted because I was shallow and banal. I … I was a rogue looking for a good time. Nothing else mattered to me.”

  She shook her head vehemently. “I don’t believe that! You’re a good man. You wouldn’t have risked your life for total strangers if you weren’t. I can’t for a moment think of you as shallow.”

  “Well … look where my good intentions got me,” he reminded her and motioned toward the burns on his body. “I don’t know that I did that man and his granddaughter any good at all. For all I know, Prometheus went back, found them, and did whatever he would have had I not interfered. Maybe I was a bombastic, pretentious fool who should have remembered that invoking a Limaxian’s anger could have had consequences for others. Prometheus might very well have turned that plasma on everyone else. Just as he did when you were burned.” He gently stroked her cheek and kissed her forehead. “But we can remedy all this. As soon as we’re out of here, my brother has an incubation unit aboard his ship. He can lock us up in it, and we’ll sleep together until we reach Avalon. By then, we’ll probably be completely healed. Then, I’ll get to see what you really look like.”

  She suppressed a smile. “I’m told I’m quite plain for a Wyrdan. You might not want me if you see the way I really am.”

  “What if Fate decrees we stay just like this?”

  “I saw you from a distance. That day when you were … ” Her voice trailed away before she spoke again. “I couldn’t see you well, but you were magnificent. Just as you say, I don’t care if either of us is healed of our scars. As long as we’re together.”

  “Then we’ll let Fate make that choice.”

  “What’s inside you is what I value. That’s what I love, Marcos. Not the beautiful black hair I saw or the anger in your gaze.”

  He’d never tell her the real reason he had confronted the slug leader. To do so might give his identity away before she was ready to know it.

  Years ago, during the allied conflicts with the deadly faction calling themselves Warlords, he’d landed on planet after planet, witnessing what scavenging slugs had done. They’d killed countless men, women, and children because they were too injured, too old or too young to be taken as slaves by the slugs. And of those children he’d helped rescue, their innocence had been stolen.

  When he’d seen that girl beg for her grandfather’s life, it’d all come back with a vengeance, and he’d gone off mission in less than a heartbeat. But no one knew these things about him. Not even Darius knew, and Marcos could never speak of them. Words wouldn’t come. But anger over those old events had surfaced in the marketplace. His much-vaunted control had left him for a brief moment, when he had seen the chance to avenge all those children. And it’d cost him.

  When he saw her gazing at him with great intensity, as though she could almost hear his thoughts, he shook his head and dredged up another smile.

  “If I couldn’t be healed, you’d never see all the steeled muscle beneath these scars,” he joked.

  “I told you … I don’t care. And something tells me you don’t really care either. Something tells me you are far deeper than you let anyone know.”

  He gazed at her for a very long moment. “You have the ability to look at people and see more than they wish. That’s why I can’t ever let you go. I think you know me far better than anyone ever has.”

  She caressed his face, then his head. “Just love me. And together we’ll heal whatever wounds we have.”

  He kissed her very tenderly and heard her softly moan in response. Then he broached the subject he’d most feared speaking of. “Nova … what if the enforcers aren’t the adversaries you seem to think them?”

  “Enforcers are only as good as their leader. The king of Luster doesn’t care about some little spitball of a planet that doesn’t do him any good. That’s the reality of the situation, Marcos. We’re alone here and always have been.”

  “But you do want justice done, don’t you? Forrell should pay for his greed and the murders he committed.”

  She pulled away. “Yes, I want Forrell and the slugs to pay for what they’ve done.” She sat up and shook her head in confusion. “M-my mother once told me that Wiccans don’t believe in revenge. She said such negative feelings only come back to the wisher, threefold. And though I know it’s wrong to hate, I can’t help it.” She pulled the blankets closer to her body. “The more I learned about the way politics work, the more I understood that someone else just like Forrell would take his place. All the brave men and women who ever lived here are dead. And the enforcers still leave him in charge. They blindly believe everything Forrell tells them. It suits them to do so. And that’s why I’ve gone against my mother’s own teachings. I can’t help it,” she repeated.

  “Nova, just as your feelings are complicated, nothing having to do with politics is that simple. You’re right about the intricacies of the situation. They go much deeper than you can imagine. Enforcers just can’t land on someone else’s world and take over. That’s not what they’re about. They battle when attacked and respond when asked. There are other issues I can’t—”

  “Please don’t,” she said as she raised one hand in refusal. “This is one topic on which we’ll have to agree to disagree. The enforcers and Luster’s king wouldn’t be so complacent if all this were happening to their families, on their world. Delta Seven is nothing to them. The sooner we can get out of here, the better off we’ll both be. I just pray your brother doesn’t get held here by the slugs when he comes. If he asks too many questions, that could very well happen. And he might end up getting the same treatment you got.” She put her fingertips over his lips when he would have spoken again. “Your focus would be better placed on him than with what enforcers will or won’t do. All we have to do is two things. Get to your brother before the slugs do, and get off this planet safely. It can be done, but we’ll have to know, almost to the hour, when your brother arrives. It may be the only way to save his life and ours.”

  He took a deep breath. This was the time he should reveal everything. But there would be months of living in this cave with her feel
ing she’d been betrayed. He’d become the object of scorn; someone who had lied to her all along. He pulled her close, tucked her head under his chin, and stared at the top of the cave. After he could get her to safety, everything would be different. He knew it would. Nova would understand why he hadn’t revealed himself. He could make her understand, and they could live all the dreams they’d planned. It would just take time.

  • • •

  “We’ve been through this. I’m going to the marketplace with you and that’s final.”

  Nova knew he’d recovered a great deal of his strength, and had already delayed the trip for a week hoping he’d relent and stay safely within the cave. Now, there was no choice. Their supplies were low.

  “What if someone asks questions about you, Marcos? What should I say?”

  “I’ll do as we discussed. I’ll stoop over and pretend to be so badly debilitated by the burns that I’ll appear as many of those poor wretches milling about. You can say I’m a brother, cousin, father, or whatever. Or even just a neighbor. Surely anyone who’s done business with you won’t care as long as they get their money. You’ve said they don’t even know who you are because of your scars and because you did your shopping mostly at night … as a thief. You haven’t been to the marketplace all that much.”

  “That’s all the more reason that two newer customers will stand out. Even if our faces are as scarred as everyone else’s. Don’t you see? While there are many people in the square, there aren’t so many they’ll ignore someone newly burned. Your scars are still raw. Why do you insist on doing this?”

  “I won’t let you go alone.”

  “How many times to I have to say this? I’ve been taking care of myself for a very long time, Marcos Orlandis—”

  “Not with those slugs everywhere. I don’t like the idea of them getting anywhere near you.”

  She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

  “We’ve argued this to death. Even Una hasn’t enough food for another two days. You can’t carry everything we need, and I’m not staying behind. Get it into your head.”

  “You’re being foolish,” she insisted.

  “And you’re not honoring the bargain you made. I’m as strong as I ever was. I can easily make the trip. I’m going and the subject is closed!”

  “What if I went out tonight and stole what we need, just like I used to? Then neither of us would have to—”

  “No! Do you know what would happen if you were caught after curfew? Had I not been standing by a window the last time, you’d have been some oversized worm’s tasty little supper. Or worse.”

  She grabbed up her long cloak and impatiently pulled it around her shoulders. “I don’t like this. I have a bad feeling about it.”

  “If we act like we belong, we’ll be all right. Just keep that in mind.”

  “Thank you for the lesson in how to survive. I’ll take notes,” she sarcastically responded.

  She watched as Marcos dressed in the woolen shirt, long pants, and boots she’d bought for him the last time she went to the marketplace. His anger was born out of a sense of possessiveness. She could have found it more charming and heartwarming if it hadn’t also been belittling skills she’d taken so long to hone.

  The final garment he donned was his brown hooded cloak, the same one in which the money was still kept. The cloaks were the quintessential outer garb of all the citizens. Perhaps he might look like them if he could manage to crouch low enough. Marcos was so tall as to make that seem impossible. Indeed, when he stood next to her, she felt like a recalcitrant child. His height and size were so much more pronounced because of her fears. She tried to breathe deeply and focus.

  “There’s a break in the snow, so it’ll be colder tonight. Let’s get this over with,” he told her.

  She nodded. “Stay close to me.”

  She stalked out of the cave knowing he was recovered enough to keep up with her quicker pace. It would be some distance before they got to the city limits. Until then, it wouldn’t be necessary for him to bend over and act as though he was incapacitated.

  Once they got near the city and he stooped to appear as so many of the citizens, they both kept their silence. To augment the perception of his being older, he’d added a long staff made of an old, dead branch.

  Eventually, she felt the need to instruct him yet again, though he’d not take kindly to any suggestion of not yet looking like a colonist.

  Nova put her hand around one of his biceps as he stooped lower to hear.

  “I’ve decided you’re a neighbor that I’m helping. But it might be better if I did the talking.”

  “I’ll relent on that,” he quietly returned. “But if there’s trouble, get out of my way. You run; I’ll do the fighting.”

  “We both run, and neither of us fights, damn you!”

  He might have made some retort she wouldn’t have liked, but they had approached the first place she wanted to stop. To her utter relief, he simply leaned heavily on his staff and lowered his gaze in what appeared to be a beaten, submissive posture.

  “What may I do for you this day, little one? Pots, pans, or cutlery?” the elderly stall owner asked.

  As the minutes flew by, she counted their sojourn so far as exceedingly fortunate. They seemed to garner no undue attention. But Marcos still kept his staff ready to use as a weapon. His grip on the branch told her as much.

  They moved from one stall to another and bypassed children huddling near barrels where fires had been started to keep customers warm. Nova’s empty bags began to fill, but she never really saw Marcos relax. Knowing him as she did, she noted how his muscles tensed, and how he appeared more rigid than he would have back in the cave. Of course, that was a normal response to their situation, but he had to loosen up or someone would surely notice.

  She patted him on the shoulder and shot him a silent glare, hoping he’d get the message.

  When they came to a stand where dried fruit was being sold, Nova surveyed the choices. The seller there eyed her companion critically, but said nothing. To cover for Marcos’s presence, she made an offhand comment to him about how she’d look in on him tomorrow, after getting him back to his cottage. That tactically placed remark quelled any curiosity the stall owner had. The salesman went about helping her choose from his poor selection.

  While she was paying for her purchase, a small girl approached the stall. The child was pitifully thin, and her brown curls were dirty and tangled. Her clothing was torn and hung too loose.

  The child reached out her hand for one of the stray pieces of fruit that lay too close to the edge of the seller’s cart.

  “Be off with you, girl,” the stall owner chastised. “I haven’t enough for my own family, much less someone else’s.”

  The child turned away, but Marcos put his hand in his cloak pocket and drew out a coin. He handed it to the waif, and she took it and stared up at him as if such a thing had never happened to her before. Slowly, as if she’d imagined the entire thing, the little girl turned to walk away. But she hesitated once to glance back at the stooped man in the cloak.

  Nova’s heart filled with love for him. It occurred to her then that any child of his would never ever go hungry or know fear. Not as long as he lived.

  The stall owner shook his head in disgust. “You’ll just teach her to beg, old man. If the slugs catch that little girl asking others for coins, they’ll kill her. Better to keep what you have to yourself. You must have been confined for some time, or you’d know what I say is true.”

  “He has been,” Nova eagerly responded on Marcos’s behalf. “He’s been very ill since he was burned.”

  She caught a glimpse of both the compassion in Marcos’s expression and his anger, and quickly led him away, toward another stall. “That was a very kind thing you did,” she whispered.

  “Not if it gets that child killed,” he solemnly muttered. “If that merchant was right, I might have given her reason to beg from others.”

  “Sh
e’ll likely buy bread with the coin since it’s the cheapest product sold. My guess is it’ll be the first loaf she’s had in days.” She blinked back tears as she spoke.

  “Don’t cry,” he softly instructed. “Someone will wonder what’s wrong.” He took one of her hands in his and squeezed it tightly.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  He lowered his head to hide his smile.

  About an hour later, they were almost ready to leave but stopped at one last stall for canned goods. These were the heaviest to carry, so Nova chose to purchase them last.

  As she turned to look at the other end of the goods displayed on the long cart before them, an elderly man slowly approached. She vaguely recognized the gentleman, but couldn’t remember why.

  “Sir … madam … may I speak with both of you?” the stranger softly asked.

  “I’m with a friend and am, as you see, indisposed,” Marcos replied.

  “Highness, please … I’m the man whose life you saved. You were badly burned in my stead, and saved the life of my granddaughter as well. I am, therefore, deeply indebted and obligated to warn you.”

  Nova froze. Only long-practiced skills kept her from gasping aloud and staring wide-eyed at her lover.

  “What did you call me?” Marcos asked.

  “Sir … I know who you are. There aren’t many here who would recognize the green eyes of the Starlaw purebloods. But I knew who you were by your bearing in the marketplace that day. You have your father’s strength of character.” The older man slowly nodded in acknowledgement. “I know you, sir. I have been to Luster and know who you are.”

  Nova felt her heart actually beat harder as she stared at the dirt in shock. A stranger had just acknowledged Marcos as a member of one of the most regal families to have ever existed—a family headed by a man to whom she’d shown virulent disrespect.