She couldn’t just stand there and watch all of this. Now that Lennai and Atticon were gone, she decided they could get their own damn wine. And if anyone yelled at her for it, she’d say she’d thought she was dismissed. At any rate, the Jiayi couple didn’t really seem to notice her at all. So she took her decanter and went down the garden path to the serving station to set it down.
But when she turned to go back down the path that led out of the garden, Rua stood in her way. Yfia had been right. He came to her. He had his arms folded across his chest, and though he wasn’t smirking at her, she could tell he was sizing her up.
“Looks like you haven’t done too bad for yourself, sugar,” he said, strolling closer to her.
“I’ve done what I had to.” She lifted her chin a little, refusing to look subservient to him.
“Whatever it takes, right?” Rua dropped his arms as he got to the serving station. He sank into a lean against it, facing her. Interest sparked through his dark green eyes. “So about what you said to me earlier.”
Alaina held herself still. “Yes.”
Rua arched an eyebrow. “You know I can’t get you out of this place.”
“I know that. House Chara bought your debt. You work for them now.”
“Not exactly.” Rua shrugged. “I’ll fight in tomorrow’s games. And if I win, I get my freedom from all of this.”
“I thought you had a pretty good deal,” Alaina said. “Your own ship, your own crew, all that bullshit. You seemed happy.”
Rua frowned. “I told you before, sweetheart, I’m not a bad guy. You know what it does to your soul, taking people from their families to throw them into slavery, into the games? It got to be too much, even for me. So I’ll fight instead.”
“And if you lose?” Alaina asked.
Rua exhaled, looking away from her, over the gardens. “I’ll keep fighting until I do.”
“So if you win, you’re free. And if you lose, you join the cursii of House Chara in the barracks just like anyone else.”
Rua nodded and looked at her again. “That’s about the size of it.”
“I guess you really want to win then.”
Rua tilted his head a little, taking her in. “I do. So if you know I can’t get you out of here, why would you offer to sleep with me? You had your chance. You turned me down.”
“I want to make another kind of deal with you,” Alaina said.
Rua looked dubious. “What kind of deal is that?”
“I want to make an alliance,” Alaina explained carefully. “Between you and Chara’s champion, Vega.”
“The wounded cursu,” Rua said, frowning. “The one Atticon is making fight anyway. He’s a goner.”
“That’s why I want the alliance. I want you to fight with him. The two of you could keep each other alive.”
Rua sighed through his nose. “And in exchange for keeping this guy alive, you’ll sleep with me.”
Alaina nodded. “That’s the deal.”
Rua looked around the garden again. Taking his time, Alaina thought. Thinking it through. Weighing the benefit versus the cost. A night with her to risk his life for a fighter he didn’t know at all. Her plan suddenly felt stupid.
Then Rua looked at her again. “You’re wearing a clostrata. How is this going to work?”
“I’ll find a way to get it off,” she said. She had no idea what way that was going to be, but she’d have to figure it out.
Rua looked down, and Alaina blushed because he was eyeing the thing through her clothes, and that was awkward as hell.
“Who has the key?” he asked.
“Lennai.” Alaina cleared her throat. “Domina Lennai has it. If you win in the games tomorrow with Vega, she’ll give me to you as donara without the clostrata.”
Rua made a thoughtful sound. “I’ll get the key from her.”
Alaina started. “How?”
And then he did smirk at her. “Don’t worry. I’m wily. I’ll get the key from her. Tonight.”
“What?” She blinked.
“You come to me tonight. You sleep with me tonight, before the games, and I’ll help this Vega guy survive the day.”
Alaina’s heart started pounding in her ears.
She’d thought she was just agreeing to help him win her as donara, and that she wouldn’t resist him when he did. But no. She had to go to bed with him tonight, and she could tell from his eyes that he wouldn’t agree to the deal if she didn’t.
She’d wanted to see Vega tonight. Could she tell him about this? Could he understand what she was trying to do or would he hate her for giving herself to Rua to save him? Would she ever be able to forgive herself for this or would the shame of it eat away at her for the rest of her life? She didn’t know. But she knew she loved Vega, and that she couldn’t watch him die. She had to do everything, anything, to help him.
“Tonight,” she agreed softly, nodding, as she looked into Rua’s eyes.
His expression was complicated and she couldn’t read it. Some combination of satisfied, tentative, and trepidation . He reached up, touching a fingertip to a loose curl of her pale blond hair, and his eyes never left hers.
“I’m not a monster,” he told her quietly. “I’m not Atticon.”
“Small mercies,” Alaina whispered.
“I’ll be good to you,” he said.
“You just keep your end of the deal,” Alaina said. “I’ll do this, but you better keep him alive, Rua. Or I’ll kill you myself while you sleep.”
Rua smiled suddenly. “I knew I liked you.” His hand fell from her hair. “I’ll see you tonight. One of the servants will come fetch you. I’m in one of the guest rooms in the palace.”
Alaina nodded, but didn’t trust herself to say anything more.
Rua turned and walked back down the garden path towards the couches and the food, and Alaina couldn’t stay. She couldn’t stay in the garden any longer. She wanted desperately to go to Vega, but she knew if they were caught together now she would go right to the cells and her plan would fall apart. So she hurried to her little room in the slaves quarters, and waited.
The day crept by with agonizing slowness.
Gurun came by to yell at her for leaving before the dominus’ little fête was over, but it didn’t really seem like his heart was in it. He told her the Jiayi guests had left, and Alaina was sad because she hadn’t gotten to say goodbye to Yfia. She missed her more than she’d realized. She felt alone again, after having seen her, and knowing Vega was so near but she couldn’t go to him.
Alaina paced back and forth in her room, waiting for the chime to ring through the slaves quarters signaling the end of the solar.Slaves had been in to take her laundry and clean her room, and she’d changed into the sleeping gown they always laid out on the bed for her. It was like every other dress they made her wear in this place, sheer and slinking over every curve of her body. And plainly visible beneath it was the clostrata.
She wondered what Rua was going to do about it. How he was going to get the key from Lennai. Wily, he’d said. What a word to describe him. Not the one Alaina would have chosen.
But she supposed it was true enough, and if he wanted to fuck her that badly he’d find a way. Alaina just hoped it wasn’t a way that was going to get them into even more trouble. She had to stay out of those cells.
She jumped at the soft knock on the door. The locks clicked, the security panel buzzed, and the door opened.
Alaina froze. It was Nyssa.
Of all fucking people, it was Nyssa. Of course it was Nyssa.
The yellow-scaled slave girl smiled, but it held no kindness. “I’m to take you upstairs, donara.”
“No.” Alaina shook her head. “No, I’m not going anywhere with you. You’ll just do something to try and get me killed.”
Nyssa held up a small, cylindrical device. “I have the key to the clostrata. Captain Rua paid me very, very well to get it. He paid me enough that I will not
betray him.”
“What do you even care about money?” Alaina said. “You’re a slave.”
Nyssa hissed at her. “The money goes to my family. House Chara pays them a stipend for me, and I send them whatever else I can get. Now come with me before I’m caught and they lock both of us in the cells.”
Alaina didn’t trust Nyssa any further than she could throw her, but she didn’t really have any options. So she clenched her teeth and just nodded, following Nyssa out of the room and into the darkened corridor.
All the way up to the higher palace levels, Alaina thought about Vega. She hated this. She hated having to do this. But she just couldn’t think of another way. And she hoped that when she eventually told him what happened tonight, he would understand. She knew he had to go to bed with Lennai sometimes. The slaves never stopped tittering about it. She forgave him because she knew this place made whores of them all. So she’d give her body to Rua, but never, ever her heart. Never. That would be Vega’s, Alaina knew, for the rest of her life.
They took the elevator, but not all the way up to the gardens. It opened onto a wide corridor with vaulted ceilings. It was beautiful and grand, artwork decorating the walls, strange patterns and sculptures Alaina didn’t understand. Nyssa stopped outside a pair of massive double doors at the far end of the hallway and Alaina stopped beside her, waiting.
Nyssa held out the key to the clostrata. After a moment’s hesitation, Alaina took it from her.
“I will be back to fetch you in three hours,” Nyssa whispered. “Exactly three hours. You must give me back the key then so that I can return it before the domina realizes it’s gone.”
Alaina nodded. “All right.” She gave Nyssa a hard look. “No tricks this time.”
Nyssa smiled, baring teeth. “I told you. Rua paid me well. No tricks.”
“And how do I get into this room?” Alaina asked.
Nyssa snickered at her. “It’s a guest room. Rua will not be escaping anywhere. Just touch the panel and it will open. Idiot human.”
“Thanks.” Alaina ignored the insult.
Nyssa shrugged. “Besides, you seem to be good enough at getting yourself in trouble. It’s only a matter of time before the domina grows tired of sparing you.”
She turned and walked away, and Alaina could only glare.
She wasn’t wrong though. Alaina had to be more careful, especially if she wanted to keep both herself and Vega alive.
She put her palm to the security panel holding the double doors shut. It chirped softly and the locks gave way, the doors swinging slightly inward. Alaina slipped through them and into the room, closing the doors again at her back.
Chapter Thirty
Vega was allowed to spend the night down in the barracks instead of his recovery room. As always before the games, the cursii of House Chara were drinking and carousing, burning through the nerves building up before the fighting. Vega was aware of their sharp glances, but he just went to his old room and sat down on the small cot there, listening to all the noise of the barracks, as he always did.
In due course, Bathari appeared in the little room’s doorway, a cup of wine hanging from his fingertips.
Vega looked at him and smiled tiredly. “Sounds like business as usual out there.”
Bathari frowned. “But not in here. You should be upstairs, resting.”
Vega shook his head. “I can’t. I have to go through the motions, Bathari. Trick myself into thinking I have a chance at surviving tomorrow.”
Bathari grimaced. “I won’t let you die.”
“It may not be up to you.” Vega shrugged a little. “They’ll put me in the final game of the day, as they always do. They’ve never entered you into the final game, Bath.”
Bathari sipped from his wine, slouching against the door frame. “The brothers won’t turn on you again.”
Vega snorted. “Yes, they will. They’ve every reason to.”
“No, I’ve been talking to them. Trying to make them see. Trying to—”
“I need some help with something else, though,” Vega said, waving away the conversation about their fighting brothers. Either they would turn on him or they wouldn’t, and Vega couldn’t plan around that moment.
“Help with what?” Bathari asked, and Vega was grateful he didn’t press the issue.
“I’m going to marry Alaina,” Vega said simply. “I need an Arena officiant to do it.”
Bathari stared at him with wide eyes. “You’re going to marry the donara? They’ll never allow it.”
“I don’t give a fuck if they allow it. I’m going to survive tomorrow because I’m going to marry the woman I love.” Vega held out his hands, plaintive. “You have to help me. It’ll keep me alive, Bath, knowing I’ve found a way to do it.”
Bathari’s expression was thoughtful, brow furrowed as he considered it all. “Well,” he said finally. “You don’t technically need an Arena officiant.”
Vega frowned. “I don’t?”
Bathari shrugged. “No, you need an Errai officiant. Someone confirmed by the Cepheus system capital. Once they’re ordained by the capital it doesn’t matter what else happens, they’re never stripped of it.”
Vega felt hope wake in his heart once more, his mouth gone dry with anticipation as he looked at Bathari. “And do you know of someone? Here, in the palace?”
Bathari nodded slowly. “You know him, too.”
“What?” Vega sat up a little. “Who?”
Bathari arched his eyebrows. “The Master of Cursii.”
Vega felt that hope wilt just as quickly. “Dyhar. But he would never do it. He’d know the consequences would be too high. He has too much station in House Chara, too much freedom already. The Domina and Dominus could cast him right back into the barracks and fighting in the games for such a trespass.”
Bathari sighed. “That’s true. But he’s the only one who can help you, Vey. He’s the only officiant I know of down here and —more to the point— if you plan to marry the girl in secret, he can help you do that, too.”
Vega grimaced and looked down. “I don’t know that I can ask all that of him.”
“He considers you a friend,” Bathari said quietly. “He’s taken great interest in your future. He’s been trying to turn the other cursii to your side. Ask him, Vega.”
“If he turns on me, too, I’ve no hope of surviving,” Vega whispered.
“Your hope of surviving is slim enough, mate,” Bathari pointed out. “How much do you want this girl?”
Vega’s eyes lifted. “I want her more than anything. More than going home, I think.”
Bathari exhaled, and then smiled. “I know what that feels like. More than winning the games, more than seeing my home again, I want to see my sweet Yfia’s face once more.”
Vega smiled too. “You’ve never said her name before.”
Bathari shrugged again and lifted his cup. “I blame the wine. And all your talk of marriage. It’s making me sentimental.”
Vega rubbed his hands together, mind turning end over end as he weighed the risks and rewards of petitioning Master Dyhar for help. He couldn’t get to him now, the Master would be in his rooms in the palace above until the morning. Then he’d return to the barracks to lead the cursii to the Arena for the games. Perhaps then. Perhaps Vega could go to him then. There was that hope again, faint and flickering, but it was enough to keep him warm through the night.
Chapter Thirty-One
Alaina stepped into Rua’s suite and looked around, surprised at how sprawling and elegant the rooms were. He really was a guest, she supposed. At least until the morning, when he would be nothing more than another fighter on the sands. But this room was no barracks. Shining marble floors and billowing, pale curtains opening onto a balcony terrace. Several low sofas around a copper table, strange plants with bursting orange flowers and a set of french doors across from the terrace that must have led into a bedchamber. Or a bath chamber.
&
nbsp; “I didn’t actually think you’d come.”
Rua swept aside one of the curtains, stepping in off the terrace. He was shirtless, in a pair of the same linen pants all the cursii wore in the barracks. Alaina had known he was handsome, but he was plainly strong as well. His shoulders and chest were hard sculpted muscle, a trail of dark hair leading from his sternum to beneath the waistband of those trousers. He’d have been an incredibly attractive man if he wasn’t such a goddamn asshole, Alaina thought.
“Well, I’m here,” she said.
“Drink?”
Rua went to a little bar built into the wall and set his glass beneath an automated pourer. He touched a control panel the glass refilled itself with pale amber liquid.
Alaina steadied herself and nodded, walking towards him. “Fine.”
He removed his glass from the pouring bank and set down a fresh one, which the machine filled as well, and then he held it out to Alaina. He looked her over as he did. “You look beautiful.”
She took the glass and lifted it for an immediate sip. It was sweet, but it burned down her throat just like whisky. Space whisky. It would have to do. Maybe she could numb herself so well this experience would barely register. She doubted it, but it was worth a try.
She coughed a little and took a second sip, and that one went down easier. “Thanks.”
And then she held out the key to the clostrata.
Rua took it, looking it over, turning it across his knuckles like Alaina had seen people do with a quarter back on Earth. He gazed at her thoughtfully and she gulped down another big swallow of the space whiskey, finishing what was in her glass, and set the glass back on the bar.
“Come on,” Rua said, tilting his head towards the french doors.
She followed him and he threw the doors open. It was a bedchamber like she’d thought, with a giant, canopied bed. The lights were dim inside the room, the carpet beneath her bare feet soft and lush. Rua went to the bed and sank to a seat on the end of it, his glass in one hand and the clostrata’s key in the other. He lifted his glass to her.
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