"I thought you'd have a hangover and would sleep until noon," I teased Ry as I slid his breakfast in front of him.
"I have a spell that neutralizes alcohol," Ry yawned widely. Apparently, the spell didn't make up for lack of sleep. "Food's good." He accepted the cup of tea I gave him with half a dawn-inducing smile. That's where Director Keef, Lissa, Gavin and Gavril found us later, sipping tea at the kitchen island after we'd eaten. Someone else was with them I didn't recognize, and I was introduced to Master Morwin, Gavril's Amterean Dwarf tutor.
"I'm here to make things look more normal," Gavril grinned at me and came to give me a hard hug. "I'm supposed to be your little brother, Gavril Nilvas."
"Oh, yeah?" I was picking up slang from Ry, Tory and Gavril without intending to.
"Yeah." Gavril was still grinning.
"Wyatt's here." Ry stood up and bowed—yes, bowed—to two people who'd suddenly appeared in our huge apartment. I was beginning to be glad that it had six bedrooms. At first, I thought it was wasted space.
"Reah, this is Wyatt, heir to the Karathian throne," Ry straightened and offered polite introductions. "And this is his grandfather—my great-grandfather—Wylend Arden, King of Karathia." Wylend looked only a few years older than the one introduced as Wyatt. I dipped my head respectfully to both of them. Little doubt existed that they were related—both had medium brown hair, hazel eyes with noticeable gold flecks and were taller than Ry but not as tall as Tory. They weren't as handsome as Ry, but then few people were.
"Would you like breakfast?" I asked. It was the polite thing to do.
"It smells wonderful—I think I would like breakfast." That's how I ended up cooking for the King of Karathia, his heir, Prince Wyatt, the Queen of Le-Ath Veronis, three of her four natural children and her mates Gavin and Norian Keef. Master Morwin, Gavril's Amterean Dwarf tutor, was shorter than I was but not by much, had thick red hair, bushy red eyebrows and could eat more than two ordinary people. Since I was now serving royalty, I added sliced fruit, a hastily put-together pastry and the eggs with sauce.
"I can't get anything this good from my own kitchens," Wylend Arden declared, having more fresh-squeezed juice. I was going to have to return to the market—I'd just used up the last of the eggs we'd purchased.
"Reah has five more years with the Alliance," Lissa grumbled. "And we saw her first." She gave a pointed look to King Wylend.
"She can do that, she's his granddaughter," Morwin whispered next to me. "And the food is exceptional. I was worried about being uprooted from Le-Ath Veronis, but this, it seems, will have its compensations." He smiled at me.
"Then I may have to engage in a bidding war with my granddaughter," Wylend was smiling at me. It wasn't as spectacular as Ry's smile, but it was sincere. I think that's what impressed me about King Wylend Arden—his sincerity. I might have imagined that the King of the Karathian Warlocks and Witches might have been a bit less genuine. Wyatt, his heir, ate at Wylend's elbow and barely said four words past the initial introductions. He seemed uncomfortable, somehow. Everyone else was ignoring his discomfort, or didn't see it.
"Wyatt, would you like more juice or some tea?" I asked.
"Tea would be wonderful, Reah." He hadn't expected anyone to notice him, I think. I made him tea and passed along honey to go with it.
"I will return to check on my heir," Wylend said later as he prepared to leave. "I think I can arrange to be here two days from now, in time for dinner." He nodded to me and disappeared.
"Well, I suppose we need to go back to the grocery store," I muttered, not looking forward to a second early morning so soon.
"I have to get out of bed again before dawn," Tory moaned.
"I'll go with her," Wyatt volunteered.
"I want to go—I've never been to a grocery store," Gavril spoke up. Therefore, the following morning Wyatt, Gavril, Master Morwin and I all went to the market very early and laid in enough supplies for a siege. I was going to prepare my special ox-roast for the King of Karathia—I thought he might like it. All of us were laden with bags when Wyatt folded us back to our apartment.
"Chash, it's icy outside—are you sure you want to go walking?" I asked him the next morning after we'd pulled heavy coats from closets.
"Yeah—it never gets this cold on Le-Ath Veronis. And it hardly ever snows." His dark eyes were bright with excitement—he loved new experiences.
"Well, you might get enough snow here—it's supposed to come tonight," I pointed out as we bundled up. Master Morwin was content to let us go out without his supervision—he wanted to stay inside with his books and a cup of hot tea. Wyatt was the one who came with us.
Gavril was looking over the railing at the streets below us later—there was an entire park built above pedestrian level in Taritha Village. Of course, Gavril wanted to see the people and not the scenery.
"I wish I were twelve again," Wyatt sighed next to me. That made me turn to him in surprise.
"Whatever for?" I asked. I never wanted to be twelve again. Edan had broken my wrist and given me more bruises than I could count at age twelve.
"I didn't have all this looming over my head," he muttered. "Em-pah keeps telling me what I need to do to take his place one day." A light came on for me as I stared at him.
"You don't want that, do you?" I said without thinking.
"No," he admitted, ducking his head. "I want to be a healer, like my mother. But Em-pah won't listen to me. He just keeps pushing me in the direction he thinks I should go."
"Have you told him what you want?"
"He doesn't ever give me the chance."
"Wyatt, maybe you should be more forceful about this. I know your grandfather is a powerful man, but he doesn't seem to be the type who might mistreat his grandchild."
"But I'm his named heir."
"Doesn't he have other heirs?"
"Yes."
"Wyatt, if you don't tell him soon, you may regret that decision. He's not going to hit you."
"How do you know that?"
"I don't—he just doesn't seem the type."
"How would you know if somebody is the hitting type or not?" Wyatt huffed.
"My brother Edan broke my left leg by kicking me when I was eight," I said. "Then he broke my right ankle the next year. Crushed my right foot when I was eleven, broke my wrist when I was twelve, knocked me into a heavy chair and cracked three ribs when I was fourteen, fractured my skull when I was fifteen, cracked two vertebrae when I was sixteen." I stopped when Wyatt stared at me, openmouthed. "Has your grandfather even given you a swat before?" I asked.
"Maybe a light swat on the backside when I was little—I don't remember," he muttered, turning away from me.
"I don't think he'll harm you now if you tell him how you feel," I said. "Besides, maybe he has his reasons, too. You should listen to one another. If Edan had been a reasonable person, I might have tried talking to him. He wasn't. He angered easily and took all his anger out on me."
"Reah, I only hear about children getting abused; I've never met one before. I might be able to help them, if I become a healer. I want to help them. My mother is a healer. I want to do what she's done. She's still working with children at hospitals and clinics. I just want that chance." Wyatt was truly passionate about this, I could tell.
"Lissa's your sister, isn't she?"
"Half-sister, yes."
"How well do you know her?"
"Not that well—she and our father don't really get along."
"But I'll bet she'd listen to you. She looks as if she might have some clout with your grandfather."
"Dad's the other problem."
"He wants you to be King of Karathia someday?"
"Well, he keeps saying that."
"Talk to your sister."
"I'll talk to my sister." Wyatt sounded defeated as he hunched inside his heavy wool jacket. Gavril was done watching the street below and walked toward us.
"Had enough of watching Tulgalan go past?" I hugged him as he came up
beside me.
"I want to ride on one of those long buses," Gavril said.
"They're very crowded this time of year," I said. "Everybody wants out of the cold."
"Come on, squirt, let's go home," Wyatt jerked his head toward our apartment. We were nearly there when three people walked past about twenty hands away from us. They were talking and not paying attention to us. I was grateful for that fact. Two I didn't recognize. The third one—not only did I recognize him, but my fear warred with my curiosity over how he'd come to be where he was.
* * *
"Reah, people look the same much of the time." Vice-Director Lendill Schaff paced in front of me later. Erland, Ry's father had folded Lendill in after I'd contacted him on my comp-vid. I'd been upset when we'd gone back to the apartment, and had to get myself under control before convincing myself that I hadn't been hallucinating, just as Lendill thought I was.
"Vice-Director, I'd know that face anywhere," I mumbled. Lendill Schaff was telling me I was wrong. He was likely correct. The more I thought about it, the less likely it seemed that Nods Whitlin would ever make it off Mandil to begin with. There were even greater odds that he would never have any reason to make his way onto Tulgalan or any other Alliance world.
"What about the others he was with?" Lendill asked, raking a hand through his hair.
"I didn't recognize them," I said.
"Reah, even if that one is here, he likely has nothing to do with your assignment. And I'll be honest—we have much more urgent business to attend to than one illegal immigrant. If you see him again and determine that he's the one you know from Mandil, then keep an eye on him and pay attention to where he goes. I'll have someone investigate it as soon as we have time."
"Of course, Vice-Director." I hung my head—I shouldn't have called him. I knew that, now.
"Reah, I know it's important to you—it's just not important to the ASD right now."
"I understand."
Ry's father had folded the Vice-Director in, so they both left. "You should have talked to us first," Tory said as I prepared dinner later. I just wanted to go curl up in a corner somewhere. I should have talked to Tory and Ry, but it had shocked me so much, seeing Nods—or someone I thought was Nods, that I'd gone ahead and contacted the Vice-Director right away. He'd be slower to answer my call the next time. I felt embarrassed and ashamed—I'd pulled the Vice-Director of the ASD and Ry's father away from important business, I was sure.
"Re, don't feel bad." Gavril was there after finishing his lessons with Master Morwin. Even the Amterean Dwarf had come out of his bedroom when the smell of dinner cooking wafted in his direction. Tonight was the night Wyatt's grandfather and Ry's great-grandfather (one and the same person) was supposed to arrive for dinner to check on his heir. I was making the ox-roast as planned. Right then, cooking was my only solace. At least I could do that tolerably well.
I served cuts of the roast with tiny, new potatoes, pearl onions and longbeans, and a salad that had a special dressing. I'd also asked Tory if there was any way to get oxberries. He'd skipped away and returned with a small basket. I made the dessert that Desh's number two had been famous for—oxberries in a puff pastry with cream. King Wylend showed up just as the meal was about to go onto plates.
"Reah, I will pay whatever you want to come to Karathia," King Wylend said after the first bite. If I could have gotten out of the ASD and the Alliance, I'd have gone right then. My experience from earlier in the day still stung.
"I'm glad you only made enough of this dessert for one serving each," Master Morwin sighed after finishing his oxberry pastry. I turned to him in surprise. "I would have eaten myself sick," Morwin raised a hand to defend his words.
* * *
"Come on, shortness, we have work to do," Ry informed me after I'd gotten the kitchen cleaned. His grandfather had left earlier.
"Re, what will you be doing?" Gavril was standing in my doorway as I added jewelry after dressing in a nice outfit. I wasn't about to wear a dress or skirt—it was much too cold for that. I found an emerald-green tunic and trousers in a rich, raw silk with embroidery around the neck and cuffs. Nice shoes with a short heel went with the outfit—they weren't warm, but the boots I had didn't go with the outfit. I had a long coat that went over the whole ensemble. I was just going to have to deal with cold feet until we arrived at the tavern.
"We're meeting some people Ry has made friends with. He hopes we'll be invited to their apartment after we have a few drinks."
"You look wonderful."
"I'd rather be comfortable and not going," I answered truthfully. "Are you going to be all right? You, Wyatt and Master Morwin?"
"I brought my blades with me," Gavril gave me a sly grin.
"You have blades?" That had me worried.
"Yeah—Drake and Drew gave them to me when they taught me how to fight," Gavril nodded.
"They taught you bladework?"
"Yeah. They usually make me spar with them two or three times a week, just to stay in practice."
"Chash, you worry me at times." I pulled his head forward until we bumped foreheads.
"Don't worry, Master Morwin can take care of himself and Wyatt's pretty good with his spells," Gavril was still grinning when I let him go. "Next year, Dad and Uncle Tony are going to teach me how to hand fight."
"Really?" I must have sounded skeptical.
"Re, don't worry about me. I'm all right. Plus, Mom temporarily lifted the ban on my mindspeech. I can call out for anybody who can hear me. Okay?"
"You have mindspeech?" That raised at least one of my eyebrows.
"I do. Mom just blocked it before so I wouldn't abuse the privilege."
"Everybody else has mindspeech." I tossed up a hand in disbelief and walked past Gavril and out of my bedroom.
* * *
The music was too loud for my taste, but I couldn't just walk out. Ry and Tory got me seated at a small table. Eventually, three others came to join us. Tory ordered drinks for us—he knew what Ry wanted but didn't ask me. I got something with fruit juice in it. The thumping from the music was pounding in my chest as I was introduced to Jeno, Silvastra and Inis.
Jeno and Inis, the two young men, were as different as they could possibly be. Inis was short and heavy, growing a half-attempt at a moustache. He would have done better just to shave it off. His hair was dark, too, whereas Jeno's was a light brown. Jeno was clean-shaven, tall and very thin.
Silvastra, who asked to be called Silva, came to Ry's shoulder and was doing her best to rub against him. Of course she would—he'd turned every woman's head inside the tavern, in addition to attracting the attention of several men. Silva was very pretty, with red hair that was not natural, although she looked very good in the color. She also wore a short skirt, a low-cut top and heels much higher than mine. She'd obviously spent many Alliance credits on enhancing her eyelashes and lips, too. She'd certainly gotten her money's worth.
"What's your name?" Inis sat next to me and placed an arm around my shoulders. He'd been drinking before coming to the tavern. I wanted to shudder and gag at his nearness.
Just play along, Ry sent. I almost jerked at the mindspeech. I was hoping he didn't expect me to prostitute myself for the Alliance. "I'm Reah," I said, trying not to shudder under Inis' touch.
"Reah, I think you and I could have some fun," Inis ran a finger down my cheek.
"That depends on what kind of fun you're talking about." I wasn't about to let this one put his hands or his mouth all over me.
"Inis, you're drunk," Jeno snapped. "And she doesn't need your money." Inis let his hand fall.
"Sorry," he mumbled. The tavern was popular with the crowd from Taritha Village. More people came in while we sat there; none of whom looked older than thirty. Some were students—Taritha Village was close to the University in Targis. Residents had to be wealthy to live in the area, but that didn't mean their parents weren't expecting them to finish school.
I'd never had a chance to attend universit
y. Addah Desh wouldn't have paid for it, though he had the money. The Alliance would have given me an exemption if I'd been at one of the universities littered across Tulgalan. I wasn't, so I'd been conscripted by the Alliance. Perhaps some of these wealthy students had avoided their Alliance conscription by attending school. I didn't know them, so I couldn't say for sure.
The tavern was decorated in an appropriate manner—intentionally shabby to give the wealthy youth of the area the idea that they were stepping down a little, visiting it. The prices catered to the clientele, though. I saw that right away. They served some food—not much—and it was something that could be prepared quickly, most of it prepackaged.
"I have reservations at Desh's for next eight-day," Silva announced, placing a kiss on Ry's cheek. "It's my birthday." She'd been drinking before she'd come to the tavern, just as Inis had. The mention of Desh's had me in a cold sweat, almost. I needed to stay far away from there.
"Come on, let's go back to our place; my older brother has some of his friends coming in," Inis announced after two drinks. I wondered if he would be able to stand and walk to his condo, but Ry and Tory were already saying we'd come.
Inis used me as a crutch to walk along, his arm draped around my shoulders. I really didn't want to help him, but I did. When we arrived, I saw that their condo was huge and much larger than ours, although their kitchen wasn't nearly as nice. It had an indoor pool and Inis' brother and his friends were already lounging around the pool and spa—some of them naked or nearly so—both male and female.
"Inis, who have you brought?" His brother, whom Inis had introduced as Danthus, asked suspiciously.
"They're all right," Jeno said. "Ry and Tory here are watching Reah and her younger brother while their parents are off-planet."
"Reah is scheduled to attend University next quad," Ry was smiling and holding out his hand. "Gav has his tutor with him tonight; that's how we sneaked away."
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