“There’s been an official broadcast.” My stomach tightened and I just nodded. I followed him into the sitting room and watched him turn on the vid with dread heavy in my gut.
Lord Naganika’s calm, familiar tones were almost soothing, if I didn’t listen to the words.
The empire has issued an order for the capture and arrest of the former Prince Consort Jacob Dawes in connection with the assassination of Emperor Rikhart IV and the kidnapping of Crown Princess Marquilla and Prince Owen Blaine. He is to be considered extremely dangerous and in possession of hostages. Do not attempt to apprehend him yourselves. Contact the ISS or any local imperial officer if you see him or have information as to his whereabouts.
Naganika looked appropriately indignant.
But there is happy news among the bad. The empire need not know uncertainty and chaos in the wake of our emperor’s death and the heir’s disappearance. One of our own has been returned to us. Among the many crimes for which the former Prince Jacob will be made to pay are the ridiculous and entirely false accusations against Duke Enryn Blaine which led the emperor to condemn him to death for treason. Prince Jacob then defied the emperor’s will and had Duke Blaine sent, in secret, to a hidden labor camp. We have found and recovered the duke and he is recuperating at the palace.
I stared at Naganika’s face, his perfect air of relief tempered with a somber note of loss.
Duke Blaine is an example of what is good and great: the son of a house as old as the empire itself, he worked tirelessly to protect the unclass in cooperation with our late emperor. He was treasonously betrayed by the prince consort, just as our emperor was. His son, our beloved Prince Owen, is second in line for the throne. For these reasons and many others, the council has decided that it is in the best interests of the empire to appoint him Emperor Regent. With the diligence of no other, he will work for the healing of the empire, will defend us from enemies both within and without, and will strengthen and hold the throne for the heir’s return.
Long live the emperor!
***
And that was how I found out that they were blaming Pete’s death on me. That they claimed I had murdered him.
Fury stole my breath and for a long moment, I thought perhaps I would just explode, or dissolve and cease to exist.
“How?” I croaked.
“I’ll find out,” Jonathan replied, his voice gentle, all trace of distance gone. I stared through him, unable to see anything but the horrid images of Pete’s murder, fighting nausea at the idea that I could have had anything to do with that.
“Jake.” Jonathan laid his hand over mine and squeezed until it hurt. I focused on him.
“I will find out more. We will do something. We will fight back.”
I nodded, trying to stand but falling back into the chair when my knees gave out. Jonathan was at my side, his hand under my arm, helping me up. “I need to sleep,” I choked.
He nodded. “I’ll get you something.”
It had once been so foreign to me to feel uncertain or off-balance. But returning to the palace had the same feeling of triumph and assurance as being processed into Dead End.
iv25
A day later, Lord Naganika stood before my desk, waiting.
“Where are we on the search for the children?” I asked.
His expression became somber. “It is unchanged. We are still pursuing it diligently, but we have no new leads. We continue to work on the old ones.”
“What leads?”
“Quite honestly, mostly rumor and suspicion. The location of the safehouse, even its existence, is one of the most sacred secrets in the empire. Searching official channels and records is of course being done, but in my opinion it’s pointless. The security and secrecy wrapped around its location and maintenance are unfathomable.”
He looked grave. “What leads we have are servants’ gossip. There are some who are knowingly or unknowingly involved in the maintenance of the safehouse, and many more who think they are. We are following up on every supposition put forward, no matter how unlikely, but none have been useful yet. Even those who know they are part of the process have no more information than necessary. There is no direct link to the location or to any method of getting anyone or anything out there. Of that I’m certain. And many of those who do know anything, however unhelpful, have been—” he paused and smiled. “They have been as unhelpful as possible.”
I frowned. “And this unhelpfulness amuses you?”
He dimmed his smile very deliberately, but did not wipe it away entirely. “Amused is not the correct descriptor, I think. I’m proud of them. They are highly placed and highly trusted. They understand that the directive to keep this secret at all costs supersedes that of any current ruler, no matter who he is or how he got here. For all that they loved him so universally, I think they would have been just as unforthcoming to Rikhart IV on this subject as they are being with us now.”
I digested that. “I can appreciate the sense of it, but you understand that it is hard for me to appreciate anyone who is keeping me from my son.”
Naganika went still. “May I speak frankly, Your Grace?”
“Always.”
His expression was neutral. “I know your history with him is complicated at best, and I know you want to be reunited with your son simply because you want to be reunited with your son, but there is no one who will cherish Owen’s safety and wellbeing more than Prince Jacob will.” He paused. “The former Prince Jacob, I mean.”
I stiffened. Perhaps I could admit to myself that Dawes had been good to Owen, but I couldn’t bear the reminder that he was still keeping my son from me. “I appreciate you mean well,” I said, each word clipped off in angry snips, “but I do not want to hear of that man’s usurpation of my son in a positive light ever again. Is that quite clear, Lord Naganika?”
He bowed deeply to me. “Perfectly clear, Your Grace. Forgive me for offending you.”
I reined in my temper with effort. “I am not offended. I simply mean to make my stance on this matter clear.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” He waited. When I said nothing more he continued. “There is one more matter, Your Grace.” I nodded for him to continue. “We have received a message that is of some concern.”
I went still. “Who is it from?”
“Perhaps it will explain itself if I read it to you.”
I gestured for him to continue. He glanced at his tablet, though he didn’t appear to need it to recite the message, as if he’d read this many times already.
“We know you killed him and we won’t let you get away with it. Your pawn will never be king.” He glanced up at me. “It is signed ‘the Resistance.’”
“The Resistance?”
He nodded. “This is the first we’ve heard of them. But this message came yesterday. Before I had a chance to bring it to you, we received another.” I nodded, my skin crawling. “This one reads The heir will return. And the other. But not for you.”
My voice was hard to find. “And this is also from the ‘Resistance’? It appears they know a great deal about what is going on here.”
“Or they’ve made the obvious guess.”
I examined him but he didn’t flinch from my scrutiny. “I don’t think it’s ever been a question of whether or not people might suspect the Grand Duke, but whether or not we can deflect suspicion well enough until it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“To whom were these messages sent?”
His mouth cocked in a bit of a smile. “In that we were fortunate. They came into a shared inbox that can be accessed by the councilors’ aides and myself. I happened to be the first to access the inbox the day the initial message arrived. Since then, I have set up a filter so that all such messages come directly to me.”
“You’re sure the others didn’t see this?”
“As sure as I
can be.”
I pursed my lips. “And Laudley has not seen these?”
“No, Your Grace.”
I watched him, considering. “Thank you for bringing this to me first.”
He nodded a small bow. “You are to be Regent, Your Grace. You are the one I report and answer to.”
I held back a smile but nodded once in approval.
“You may go.”
He bowed deeply and left.
Molly has to have grown an inch last night.
Dr. Heinriksen should be able to confirm that.
Oh Jake, you’re so unromantic.
What’s that supposed to mean?
I talk about how fast our daughter is growing up and you want empirical data.
Don’t you?
iv26
In spite of the sleeping medicine, I woke well before dawn. Jonathan was already up, or perhaps he’d never gone to bed. In either case, he already had a great deal of information for me.
“The official explanation is that you were unwilling to allow your daughter to play any role in the governance of the empire if the emperor didn’t accede to your demand to eliminate the class system entirely, and redistribute the wealth from the upper classes to the lower. The emperor supposedly not only stated he would do no such thing, but began to put into place measures that would prevent that ever happening, not just for him but for Molly as well. When you discovered he had well and truly thwarted you—and because you had only pretended to love and marry him for that very purpose—you arranged to have him killed so Molly would rule and you would have yourself declared Regent for her. You expected to be able to accomplish your ends that way.”
I stared as Jonathan dispassionately laid out complete and utter nonsense. It could have been a plausible story, if I’d never loved Pete. If he hadn’t been everything that was good about me. I slumped back in my chair with a heavy sigh.
“So why would I be here, then?”
“For nearly the same reason that you actually are. The assassin got him, but someone realized you were behind it and tried to apprehend you, so you took the princess and ran. Owen was insurance. And a backup plan.”
I huffed out a long breath. “OK, so I screwed up their plans by getting away with the children. But how does Blaine fit into this, then? Whoever killed Pete must have wanted power after he was gone. Presumably, it’s someone already in the line of succession. But they’d have to kill everyone ahead of them.” I scowled. “Who’s in line after Molly? It’s not Aliana anymore, is it?”
Jonathan gave me a long look of barely concealed irritation. “No, it isn’t. You should already know who is next, Prince Jacob.”
I gave him a long, furious look. “Should I? Do you think I care who rules the empire if my husband and daughter are dead?”
“Owen.”
“Well of course I care about Owen. But he and I wouldn’t be anywhere near that snake pit if they were both gone.”
“No, I mean Owen is in line for the throne after Molly.”
I fell back into my chair, stunned. “He is? How?” I stared at him. “Wouldn’t it be a relative of Aliana’s?”
“Like a first cousin?”
“Yes.”
“Like Hera Blaine?”
A rush of breath left me as if I’d been kicked in the gut. “Oh.” My head jerked up and I met Jonathan’s gaze, furious. “Then it is Laudley. Owen was right. He said it point blank.”
Jonathan sighed. “I did hear that. And I came to the same conclusion.”
“So Blaine orchestrated all of it somehow.”
Jonathan’s brows drew down. “How do you figure that?”
“Laudley’s his father-in-law. Obviously Blaine was using him to scheme to get his son on the throne.”
Jonathan shook his head. “Not even considering the immense difficulty of masterminding something like that from Dead End, I know it wasn’t Blaine.”
I glared at him. “How?”
He considered his answer. “Blaine was ruthless in his way, and very smart, but he was an idealist. He saw himself as a defender of an empire that was being attacked from within. He believed himself a crusader, doing what he must, even if it was treason, in order to protect the empire—and by association, all the people in it. He truly believed you were a disease infecting the empire, starting with the emperor himself. He was zealous in his goal to get rid of you, but that was his goal in its entirety. To him, that fixed everything.”
“Well, Sam said the assassins tried to kill me, too.”
“Yes, but they prioritized the emperor. Blaine wouldn’t have been behind that. Laudley, on the other hand, is not an idealist. He is more interested in power for its own sake. And he has no love or respect for the imperial family. He established that long ago.”
I absorbed that, wondering why I didn’t have the urge to argue with him.
“So what do we do now? Do we even have any powerful allies besides Aliana?”
“The Queen is not in a position to help you right now.”
The words were thick and heavy in my throat. “Is she not on my side?”
“She was always on your side. She’s just in a very difficult position. Apparently several credible and serious reports recently caused her to send the bulk of her military forces into different areas of Torrean space. That was only sensible while the empire was at peace and ruled by her cousin. Now, it puts her in a position to have no organized force to oppose Laudley militarily, and she is not physically near enough to oppose Laudley among the powerful at the palace.”
“You’ve talked to her?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
“The same way I know all the rest.” He gave me a funny look. “Spying, logic, and faith.”
I frowned at him. “So, in other words, you don’t know where she stands at all, and anything’s possible?”
“Anything is always possible. But Queen Aliana is one of the best people I know. I would stake my life on her trustworthiness, and I don’t say that about many people.”
My heart hurt. Aliana had been one of the first people to accept me when Pete and I went public with our relationship, back when we were stupid kids living on optimism and invincibility. I couldn’t doubt her. And yet, in that moment, I doubted everything I’d ever known or believed. I doubted myself.
“We already know a great deal more than we did, and I will have a workable plan for you soon. Just give me a little more time, Your Highness.”
“Jake.”
He hesitated. “Jake.” He said the word as if tasting it on his tongue, as if he’d truly never said it before, as if it were in some foreign language he didn’t speak.
The world had turned upside down in a matter of days. I didn’t blame him.
I had many times imagined my own coronation. What boy of my station didn’t?
iv27
Rikhart IV lay in state for five days, and then he was buried in all imperial pomp and glory.
There was much debate, most of which I ignored, about what part I was to play in the ceremonies. I had no desire to be visible yet. Not now. Not for this. Queen Aliana, his closest relative outside his own household, would be the empire’s public face. I merely wore the crown of the heir to the throne and ceded to her all honorary duties for the funeral. This was not my place or time, and I felt heavy with trepidation and a grief I couldn’t entirely explain.
It was a day-long observance that began with a funeral breakfast at which the most important among us were given opportunity to recount some anecdote or memory of the late emperor. The speakers had been chosen ahead of time, and went in reverse order of importance. And so we endured a nasal speech from Lord Vandercook of how the emperor always chose him for his own team when they played soccer, and how the emperor had complimented him on his skill. We sat t
hrough Duchess Chaudhuri telling of childhood flirtations between Rikhart and her son, Umang, and how he had spoken to her son of someday taking him as his consort, before her son died. I remembered homely little Umang Chaudhuri and I doubted that very much. Lord Sifer stood next.
“I remember the first time Rikhart met Jacob Dawes.” A chorus of gasps followed the words, and I could hardly keep my own to myself. The old man was either very brave or very stupid. “I will tell the rest of this story calling our emperor, not Rikhart, but the name he asked me to call him, Peter, though I had served him several years before he granted me such an honor.” Queen Aliana’s face was hard to read. I stifled a sigh, reflecting with a sort of wry sorrow that there had been a time when I thought someday he would grant me the honor as well. “Peter had been emperor for only half a year, and had not even made a tour of the imperial worlds yet, but he wanted very much to visit the Imperial Intellectual Complex, and so it was arranged. During his tour and the presentation of the works of his scientists and great intellectuals, he recognized one item, the Dawes Laser, and noted also that he had seen the name of its creator on another project which had fascinated him. He asked to meet the man.”
Sifer smiled fondly. “He was not expecting a boy of his own age, but once he got over the surprise, he was very pleased. After they had spoken of the project and Mr. Dawes had been dismissed, Peter turned to me with a great smile and said, ‘Did you see how he kept forgetting who I was?’ It was not censure or disapproval, rather a thing wondrous and pleasing to him. ‘What must it be like,’ he said, ‘to live a life where nothing mattered as much as a job you were passionate about? Not even an emperor.’”
I was close enough to see that Lord Sifer was stiff and tense with emotion. “All here know how the story continued. He invited Jacob Dawes to tour the empire with him, and in the course of the journey they became friends. ‘I don’t think he even remembers I’m emperor anymore,’ Peter said to me one day, weeks into the tour. ‘It’s not like at the IIC, where he would forget from time to time. I think he’s forgotten altogether.’ And he smiled so happily. ‘I think he only tolerates me so long as I don’t interfere with his science.’” Sifer spread his hands, as if to indicate such a thing explained all there was to understand.
Impact Velocity (The Physics of Falling) Page 11
