Behind the Throne

by K. B. Wagers

  A nice thing about being royalty is you don’t have to circulate at parties. Everyone else is expected to come to you. After I had presented myself to the empty throne and watched the shocked reactions of the crowd as the announcement of abdication was read, all that was left was for me to pick a spot and wait for people to approach me.

  Everyone was all abuzz about Fenna’s interview and the news about my involvement in catching my father’s killers. Also the curious and more daring of the bunch asked me questions about gunrunning or Po-Sin. Those questions I avoided deftly or answered carefully.

  I endured a number of not so subtle requests for assistance, poorly veiled insults, and insipid conversations, smiling politely and getting my own carefully worded stabs in when I could. When the flow of curious introductions trickled off, I was left standing across the room from Mother’s empty chair, watching the intricate dance out on the floor.

  There was at least food. I nibbled on an idli coated with spicy chutney from the plate Nal held as I attempted to catch up on the various factions at court. The subject, I figured, was safe enough to discuss in front of Nal.

  “So the Surakesh are solidly on the side of the crown,” Emmory murmured, gesturing unobtrusively at the woman with silver hair who sat at my eleven o’clock.

  Leena’s mother had been silent and watchful during the council meeting, agreeing with Matriarch Maxwell’s position but not engaging in any of the debate.

  “They always have been. Though I suspect it’s as much a matter of self-preservation as anything. The matriarch had six daughters and”—I frowned and checked my smati—“four sons. The eldest daughter has four girls of her own—”

  “Five now, Highness,” Emmory murmured the correction. “Leena is second oldest of them.” He gestured covertly and I followed the line of his gloved finger until I spotted my nephew.

  “He doesn’t look happy at all, does he? And he hasn’t come to say hi.” I cocked my head to the side and studied my nephew. “Interesting.”

  “I could have someone bring him over,” Emmory replied.

  I gave a minute shrug, watching the whirling dancers. The bright silken dresses and impressively cut jackets were a riot of colors on the dance floor.

  Pace hadn’t been old enough when I attended my first adult party, but Cire and I both got new dresses—silly, girlish things with too many ruffles. I remembered that my thirteen-year-old self had been delighted with it. Father danced with us, as did our uncles. Tefiz had even taken my hand and turned me in circles, all the while watching the crowd with those piercing blue eyes of hers.

  I missed her. She’d been an older sister to me as much as a BodyGuard. It was a relief that Mother hadn’t sacked her outright for my disappearance.

  “Emmory…” I hesitated, suddenly unsure if I should even ask the question. “Did Tefiz—were she and Ofa angry with me?”

  “No, Highness. They were worried.”

  “I’m relieved Mother didn’t punish them,” I murmured as tears pricked at my eyes. “Though I wish I’d had a chance to apologize to Ofa before she died.”

  “It was unnecessary, ma’am.” Emmory’s reply over our com link threw some steel into my backbone. “They both spoke highly of you. So did Portis. I am glad to see their judgment wasn’t clouded by their feelings for you.”

  “Which is what you thought?”

  “At first.” His smile was fleeting. “You’ve changed my mind.”

  “Your Highness, if I may apologize for the interruption?”

  I gave the stranger who’d approached a once-over. He was tall and wiry-thin with pale, almost white-blond hair and equally pale blue eyes. I’d heard the distinctive Saxon accent rasping in his voice, which explained why my BodyGuards had shifted uncomfortably.

  “Ambassador Jaden Toropov, Your Highness.” He executed an elegant bow that was an interesting counterpoint to his scarred hands.

  “Ambassador.”

  Toropov smiled and extended a hand. “Might I interest you in a dance?”

  “He didn’t ask you, Emmory. You don’t get to come with me,” I said before he could protest. I put my hand in Toropov’s with a smile of my own. “Of course, Ambassador.”

  People moved out of our way as we crossed the dance floor—a multicolored sea parting without question or even really conscious thought. I suppose it’s another one of the perks of being royalty—people get the hell out of your way.

  “I’m going to have to apologize to your Ekam.”

  “For testing to see if the gunrunner knew how to dance?”

  Toropov blinked at me in surprise and then laughed. “I suppose so, Your Highness. Though I would have phrased it differently.”

  “That’s why you’re the ambassador.” I let him spin me in a circle and gave him a bright smile as he cupped my waist with one long-fingered hand. “I’m pretty sure things haven’t deteriorated quite that severely between our empires since this morning. Of course, ambassador or not, if you try to kill me, my BodyGuards will be the least of your worries.”

  He grinned at me, the expression transforming his austere face into something devilishly handsome. “So the rumors are true? Perhaps I should put some money down after all.”

  “There’s a bet about me?”

  I shouldn’t have been surprised. Gambling was the national pastime. Bets about anything and everything were placed with frightening regularity. Sometimes the bets were just friendly wagers among a select group, but sometimes it was a publicly backed pool that attracted the attention of even the largest bookmakers.

  I just hadn’t had a chance to look into it.

  “Several, Your Highness. I believe the popular one concerns the odds of your survival.”

  “That’s dreary. What are the odds?” I whistled when Toropov told me. “Steep. You’d think people would have more faith.”

  “I don’t know, Highness; the odds do seem stacked against you.”

  “I’ve had worse.” I poked him in the chest. “Remind me to tell you about the time I walked into a Zhang outpost and out again with four free boxes of their not-yet-released QLZ-57 handgun.”

  Toropov blinked at me, and then burst into laughter. It rang through the air, a sound as clean and bright as the bells on Temple Day. I choked back a giggle, then gave up and joined him, laughing until tears were rolling down my face.

  “Four boxes?” he gasped.

  “The guards helped me carry them out,” I said breathlessly.

  “That is a story I would love to hear,” Toropov said as the song ended. “However, I’m afraid if I don’t get you back to your BodyGuards, there’s going to be blood spilt—probably mine.” He took my hand and led me back across the dance floor. “I have been directed to convey His Majesty’s greetings, Your Highness.”

  I swallowed back my laughter at the overly formulaic phrasing. “Tell King Trace I said hi, and message my chamberlain if you’d like to hear that story.”

  “I will, Highness. Ekam, my apologies for stealing your charge. I have brought her back in good condition.”

  Emmory didn’t say a word to Toropov, who was unfazed by the nonresponse. He gave me another smile and a bow and left me alone with my BodyGuards.

  “Well, that was interesting.” I flagged down a passing servant and snagged a thin-stemmed wineglass off the golden tray.

  Emmory caught my hand, passed three fingers over the top of the glass, and cocked his head to the side as he scanned the read-out from his sensors.

  “Safe,” he said, and let me go.

  I picked at the idli still on the plate Nal was holding and popped one into my mouth. Wrinkling my nose at the too-sweet paste coating it, I spit it out in my hand and dumped it back on the plate. “Ugh.” The dry bubbles of the shore-bred grapes helped cut through the sticky sweetness and I finished off my drink with a grimace.

  “Did you know my odds of survival are 872 to 1 against? That’s insulting. Emmory, are you insulted?”

  “Extremely, Highness.”
r />   “I think—”

  “Your pardon, Highness.”

  “Prime Minister.” I offered my free hand. Phanin took it and bowed low.

  “If I may have a moment of your time?”

  “Sure, what’s up?” I handed the glass off to a passing servant.

  Annoyance flickered over his face at my casual reply and I resisted the urge to grin because Alba had been gently hammering away at my desire to behave like a gunrunner rather than a princess.

  “Understand I’m in no way criticizing your behavior, ma’am, but you do realize that was the Saxon ambassador you just danced with?”

  My amusement vanished. I straightened my shoulders. The shoes Stasia had forced on me had a decent heel and I was half a head taller than Phanin with them on.

  “Do I look like an idiot, Prime Minister?”

  He paled and bowed again. “Of course not, Your Highness. Of course not. Perhaps if I knew what your plan was, I could—”

  “I don’t have a plan. He asked me for a dance. I was being polite. Last I checked, we were not at war with the Saxons, Phanin. Have I missed something? Should I have shot the ambassador instead?”

  Nal coughed behind me. Emmory was stone still.

  “Highness, I realize you may not have caught up quite yet with the empire’s affairs. I am merely trying to—”

  “I was in a damn briefing not five hours ago and I am fully aware of what’s going on in my empire, even though it has more affairs than a call girl from Holgan. Untwist your knickers, Phanin. The ambassador wished to pass on a greeting from his king and, I don’t doubt, to be able to tell his peers he danced with the infamous gunrunner princess. Despite what you seem to believe, I can be trusted to not start an interstellar incident over a dance.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Go away.” I waved a hand.

  Phanin bowed again and scurried off.

  “What in the fires of Naraka was that about?” I muttered.

  “I don’t know, Highness. Tensions are high right now.”

  “If they were that high, Toropov wouldn’t be here.” I grabbed another drink, hissing at Emmory when he insisted on performing yet another scan on it.

  We fell into a somber silence. The odds were not in my favor, no matter what I’d said to Emmory and Toropov. This was going to be a hell of a fight. But since the options were death or the throne, I figured I didn’t have anything to lose.

  “Nal.” I gestured at her and she leaned in. “I think we should put some money down on me.” I tugged her closer and whispered an amount in her ear that made her mouth drop open in shock. “Go find the royal bookie and tell him to take care of it. If he wants to argue with you about it, tell him to come talk to me.”

  I smothered a laugh as Nal shared a look with Emmory and then vanished into the crowd. I sipped at my wine, watching the dancers with half-closed eyes.

  “They’re underestimating us, Emmory.” I kept my voice low even though the music made it damn near impossible to eavesdrop.

  “Thankfully, yes. I doubt their arrogance will last long. Especially if you keep showing people how smart you are.”

  “I’m not good at playing dumb, Emmy.”

  “Better that than dead. We need to have a conversation about your abilities.”

  I managed not to turn around and look at him, instead concentrating on the bubbles in my glass. They floated through the pale gold liquid, popping on the surface.

  “What do you want me to tell you? That I could kill someone with the stem of this glass if I had to? That I can point out every single noble who’s packing a weapon tonight despite the fact that it’s illegal? I can even tell you which of them actually knows how to use it.

  “I’ve got a knife in my left sleeve, four jeweled pins in my hair, and could probably beat someone to death with these monster shoes I’m wearing—though that’s messy and exhausting, and I wouldn’t want to do it in public.”

  “It’s a good start,” Emmory murmured back, the amusement in his voice wrapping around me like a security blanket, soothing my worry. “I knew all of it except for the glass. That hadn’t occurred to me.”

  “That’s because you’re an honorable man. I’m only a princess by blood, Emmy—well, that and eighteen years of training which I can’t seem to shake. But I was a gunrunner for longer and that sort of training has a steep learning curve.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “You know, with all of us in one place like this, a thermo would take care of their problem in one shot.”

  “Highness, there are bomb detectors for a reason.”

  I shrugged. “The Chernovs figured out a way to break one down, smuggle in the separate pieces, and reassemble it in less than a minute. It’s rather impressive.”

  “Your definition of impressive and mine do not quite line up, Highness.”

  I was right in the middle of another drink and my laughter turned into coughing as I sucked wine down my windpipe. “I’m all right,” I gasped, swatting at Emmory with my free hand. “Just the wrong—”

  My throat closed up, or more accurately my lungs just stopped working, and I realized that I wasn’t okay. Someone’s shocked gasp mixed with the shattering of glass as my nerveless fingers lost their grip on my wine and it plunged to the ground.

  I dropped after it. I was desperately trying to convince any part of me to function, but I was paralyzed.

  Emmory caught me before I shattered on the floor. “Hail?” He cupped my face. “Damn it! Nal!” He shouted something garbled before looking back at me. “Inhale for me,” he murmured, pressing his hand above my mouth and nose. A pale yellow mist appeared and I tried to obey but my body wasn’t having any of it.

  As I passed out, I hoped that the panicked look on Emmory’s face wasn’t the last thing I’d see.

  18

  Highness, open your eyes for me.”

  Frowning, I forced my eyes open. I was back in my room. Emmory and a gray-haired doctor I recognized as Dr. Ganjen, who was Dr. Satir’s backup, hovered over me. “What—” I choked on the word, cleared my dry throat, and tried again. “What in the hell is going on?”

  “You were poisoned, Highness.”

  “How?” I pushed myself upright, waving off the doctor’s anxious protests. “You checked everything that went into my damn mouth, Emmory. How did I get poisoned?”

  “I don’t know.” His reply was an impolite snarl. “Sorry, ma’am.”

  “No, my fault, stupid question.” I sighed and looked at the ceiling. The movement made me dizzy and I cursed, sliding back down to the bed.

  “Please lay still, Highness. The poison is exacerbated by movement,” Dr. Ganjen said.

  “Where’s Dr. Satir?”

  “Family emergency,” her colleague replied. “She had to leave the capital for a few days. Your Ekam’s quick reaction with the antidote saved your life.” The older man patted me on the arm. “You’ll want to take it easy for a day or two, Your Highness. There will be residual weakness from the neurotoxin. I’ll have to do some scans to figure out what caused the reaction since your Ekam insists you didn’t ingest any of the toxin directly.”

  “Pretty sure I didn’t, though that idli tasted funny.” I stuck my tongue out at Emmory and winked.

  That dragged a chuckle out of him. It was frayed and ragged with stress, but the amusement was there.

  “You’re going to give me gray hair, ma’am.”

  “You don’t have any hair.”

  “Princess, are you all right?” Nal’s voice floated over Emmory’s shoulder.

  “Someone just tried to kill me, Nal. I am not ‘all right’ but I am alive.”

  “Nal was concerned for your safety, as we all were.”

  Confident that Nal couldn’t see me, I arched a curious eyebrow at the edge in Emmory’s voice. “Help me up, Ekam. I promise I won’t dance around but I don’t want to be lying here. It makes me feel worse.”

  He took my arm and helped me off the bed. Leaning a
gainst Emmory for support, I offered Nal a sarcastic smile. “See. I’m alive.”

  “You were poisoned, Highness. Right under your Ekam’s nose. I don’t think—”

  Trusting my legs to support me, I let go of Emmory and waved a dismissive hand at Nal. “You were there, too, Nal, and you heard the doctor. I am alive precisely because of Emmory,” I snapped. “Doctor, thank you. Pass those results to us as soon as you have them.”

  The doctor bowed to me and left the room. Nal didn’t go as quietly, her angry protests on her way out the door delivered in a voice too low for my ears to make out distinct words. Emmory replied with two snarled sentences that were equally incomprehensible. There was a moment of shocked silence, and then the door closed.

  “Drink this, Highness.” Stasia pressed a hot cup into my hands, but the heat of it didn’t penetrate my icy fingers. “Do you want a fire?”

  I wanted to burn the world down. I bit my tongue and tossed back the pepper-spiced liquor before the words could escape, unsure where my sudden anger had come from. The drink stole my breath, successfully keeping me from looking like a fool.

  “I’ll make a fire,” Emmory said, taking the cup from my hand and passing it back to Stasia. She dipped into a curtsy and left us alone. He slid an arm around my back and, before I could protest, lifted me into the air, sliding his other arm under my knees.

  “I can walk.”

  His lips curved into the briefest of smiles. Then he set me down on the couch near the fire and turned back to the bed for a blanket.

  “So Zin was right about the desperation thing. I probably shouldn’t have pushed Laabh, huh?”

  “Highness, now is not the best time for this.”

  “When is? I was wrong and you were right and thank you for being on the ball so I didn’t die.” I leaned against the couch cushions, stifling a yawn as the drink hit me like a sledgehammer. “I really loved your brother. Did he love me back?”

  Emmory knelt by the fire and piled logs as he spoke. “I knew my brother. He loved you, don’t ever doubt that. He was there to keep you safe—”