The Emperor's Bride (Belles & Bullets Book 6)

by Caylen McQueen

  “Whoooo!” Nicholas “Nicky Gunn” Amberley banged a fist against the table with such force, a few of his empty shot glasses toppled over. As he raked his winnings toward him, his eyebrows wagged and his grin expanded. “It looks like I win again, boys! After a few more wins like this, I might be able to retire early.”

  More specifically, Nicky would be retiring at the ripe old age of twenty-two. Staring at the piles of money in front of him, he couldn't contain his excitement. He popped out of his chair and launched into a wild dance. “Whoo!” he shouted again as he shuffled back and forth. While it wasn't very gentlemanly to gloat about his wins, he couldn't stop himself. It was as if his feet—and his mouth—had a mind of their own. “I win! I win! Oh yeah, I win again!”

  As he watched the younger man's arms and legs erratically flail, Rollie tapped his cigarette on the edge of the table, scattering its ashes. “Sit down, you ass, or I'll make you sit down.”

  “Don't ruin my joy!” Nicky whined as he sank back to his chair.

  “Oh, I'll ruin your joy alright. Then I'll ruin your goddamn face!”

  “You're just jealous!” Nicky's fingers excitedly swirled over his winnings. “You're jealous of alllllll this!”

  “I ain't jealous!” Rollie turned his head and spat.

  “I'm jealous,” said the third and final gambler, Jim Valentine, who licked his lips as he glared at Nicky's stacks of cash. Jim was an oily, bald, bulky man in his forties who sometimes needed two chairs to support his weight. Fortunately for him, the stools at Busybee's Grand Saloon were especially wide and sturdy, so he only needed one.

  “I ain't jealous!” Rollie boisterously repeated his answer. “Nicky's bluffing anyway. It ain't that much money! He still don't got enough to get that rotten brother of his out of jail, let alone, retire!”

  “True, true...” Nicky agreed with a sigh. Leaning back in his chair, he watched Jim Valentine shuffle the cards. “But I'm well on my way, I'd say. Hey... sweetheart!” It wasn't a pet name for one of his male companions. Rather, Nicky was trying to get the attention of a passing saloon girl. “Sweetheart, can you get me and my companions another round of drinks? We're dying of thirst over here!”

  “Aye, some whiskey would be nice,” Jim Valentine added with a nod. With a roll of her eyes, the scantily clad redhead went to retrieve their alcohol. As soon as she was gone, Jim exclaimed, “Daaaaaamn! What I wouldn't give for a night with a lady like her!”

  “Uh huh,” Nicky agreed, sighing dreamily. Though he held his cards in front of his face, his eyes followed the buxom redhead as she moved across the room. “It's been way too long since I've held a woman in these arms of mine.”

  “Hell, I bet you never held a woman, boy!” As Rollie laughed, his cracked lips were pulled back, revealing two rows of rotten teeth. “Next time, we're gonna hafta play cards down at one of the shabbier saloons. Like The Hole. Over there, you can buy the ladies' affection. That's the only way the two of you is gonna get a woman to touch your balls!”

  “I don't need a buy a woman's affection!” Nicky objected. “Women love me! And I'll prove it to you!” When the saloon girl returned, Nicky removed his dusty brown cowboy hat and ran a hand through the unkempt, unwashed mess on his head. Dark brown and scruffy, his hair had recently grown past his ears. Despite his twenty-two years, Nicky still had the face of a boy, and he couldn't grow a proper beard to look like more of a man. His brown eyes were perpetually tired, and his grin was usually lopsided. Most women thought he was cute, but they were more inclined to pinch his cheeks than bed him, much to his dismay.

  “So, uh... sweetheart...” Nicky began, rubbing the sparse stubble on his chin as he watched the redhead pour the whiskey. “Do you got a name?”

  “I don't know. Do you got a name?” Her heaping cleavage hovered by his face as she leaned down to pour him a shot. Nicky was momentarily distracted by the sight.

  “Nicky.” His hand shot out, but she didn't take it. “Nicky Gunn.”

  “Is that your real name, boy, or is that something you decided to call yourself?” the woman asked.

  Rollie answered on his behalf. “It ain't his real name.”

  “If you won't give me your real name, Nicky Gunn, why should I give you mine?” The girl straightened her back and tossed her voluminous red hair over her shoulder.

  “I'm Nicholas... Amberley,” Nicky winced as he muttered his surname, which was too posh to sound impressive.

  “Well then, Nicholas Amberley, I'm Emma Cross,” the redhead told him. “Now, are you boys satisfied with your drinks? Can I return to what I was doing or do you need me for something else?”

  “I'm not satisfied. Not yet,” Nicky told her. “I, uh... I just wanted to tell you how beautiful you are, Miss Cross. You're the most beautiful woman in this entire saloon. When's your shift over? Because if you'd like to meet me outside in a little while, I've got some kisses with your name on them.”

  “Hmmm.” Emma tilted her head and pretended to consider his offer. “I'm flattered, but... no thanks. Goodbye.”

  “HA!” Rollie laughed loudly when the saloon girl abandoned their table. “Suddenly I feel like I'm the one who's winning today! I've never been more entertained by somebody's failure!”

  “Oh, like she would have been interested in you!” whimpered Nicky, who pitifully pouted as he studied his cards.

  “She would've!” insisted a snorting Rollie. “I ain't lyin! That girl would've been alllll over this!”

  “Yeah, she probably would've,” Jim Valentine agreed, nodding slowly. “Women love Rollie. He's every woman's dream.”

  Nicky found that difficult to believe. Rollie's rotten teeth, malodorous body and pockmarked cheeks didn't make him look like any sensible woman's fantasy.

  Even though women were probably his favorite topic in the world, Nicky forced himself to stop thinking about Emma and focused his attention on winning the next round of cards. He had a terrible hand, but he was a skilled bluffer. And because his companions were too thick to see through the ruse, he ended up winning yet again. As he raked more money into his overflowing pile, he suddenly caught Emma's gaze again. When Nicky winked at her, she immediately looked away. Judging from the sneer on her nose, she couldn't have been less interested.

  “I don't get it!” Nicky complained. “Why don't women like me more? I'm handsome, aren't I?”

  As he picked his teeth with a toothpick, Jim Valentine said, “I'd have a go at you. Y'know... if I was a lady and all.”

  “See? Even Valentine thinks I'm handsome!” Nicky smoothed his hands down the front of his tailored black vest. “So why don't I get more attention from ladies?”

  “Maybe it's cuz you look twelve,” Rollie chuckled, but when he saw the crease between Nicky's eyes, he amended his answer. “Okay, maybe I'd give you sixteen. Either way, you still look like a snot-nosed little shithead.”

  “Come on! There's no way I look that young! How many sixteen-year-olds do you know with a body like this?” Nicky rose from his chair and wiggled his hips. His heavy boots thumped against the wooden floor as he spun in a circle, modeling his masculine form. His companions might have been rolling their eyes at his massive ego, but he wasn't wrong about his stalwart build. Nicky's shoulders were broad, his thighs were thick, and he was over six feet tall. In his own humble opinion, he should have been every woman's dream.

  “What's Nicky doing?” someone spoke from behind. Nicky recognized the voice immediately. It belonged to none other than Flynn Cole, half of Nicky's favorite pair of siblings. The Cole brothers were outlaws, and Nicky always begged them to let him tag along.

  “Oh, he's just trying to convince us he's god's gift to women,” Rollie grumbled.

  And with a sigh, Jim added, “He's also takin' all our money.”

  A man of few words, Flynn simply replied, “Okay,” as he sank into one of the table's few unoccupied chairs. Then he immediately took out his six-shooter and proceeded to polish it. Flynn's guns were his babies, and they d
eserved special attention.

  “Would you care to join us for a round of poker, Flynn? I'd be happy to take your money as well!” Nicky sat back down and shuffled the cards.

  “Nah. No thanks.”

  “Are you sure?” Nicky sounded hopeful. “The more the merrier.”

  “Nah.” As Flynn repeated his answer, he spat on the barrel of his gun and scrubbed furiously. Before he returned it to its holster, it had to be spotless and smudge-free. “I'd rather not.”

  “I ain't seen you in awhile, Flynn Cole. What have you been up to, boy?” It was Rollie who asked the question.

  Flynn answered with a shrug. “Not much.”

  “I heard that you and your brother pulled off a successful bank robbery up in Honeyman. Is that true?”

  Flynn shrugged again. “Maybe.”

  “I'm guessing that means yes. And hell, I ain't never seen anyone more calm about robbing a damn bank!” An impressed whistle swirled through Rollie's lips. “You're a cold man, Flynn Cole. I guess that's what makes you so frightening.”

  A tiny smile tugged at Flynn's lips, but he didn't say a word. He continued to caress his gun in silence.

  “Wait... he's frightening?” Nicky suddenly thrust a thumb in Flynn's direction. “He's even younger than me, you know! How can he look frightening while I look like a boy?”

  “Well, for one, he's always got a gun in his hand,” Rollie answered.

  A few seconds later, Jim Valentine chimed in, “And he's got this quiet confidence thing going on. It's downright chilling.”

  Nicky sputtered a few quiet curses and tried to push their opinions out of his head. When he was on the verge of winning yet another round of cards, Emma Cross returned to their table.

  “Can I get you boys anything else?”

  “Whiskey.”

  “Whiskey.”

  “Whiskey, of course.”

  Nicky, Rollie and Jim fired off their answers at once, one right after another. But Flynn didn't say a word, so Emma turned her attention to the youngest, quietest man at the table. “What about you, sweetheart? Can I get you anything?”

  Flynn said nothing.

  “Do you want a whiskey too, hon?” she asked. “I've got some great Kinturkey Bourbon you might like.”

  Flynn was silent. He didn't nod, he didn't smile, and he didn't react to her question in the slightest. The man of few words became the man of zero words every time he was in the company of a beautiful woman.

  “What's your name?” Emma asked him. “I don't think I've seen you around here before. You're different from these three.”

  Once again, silent Flynn didn't make even the tiniest sound.

  “Um... does he talk?” Emma directed the question at Nicky, who was shamelessly soaking in the sight of her generous cleavage.

  “Yeah... sort of,” Nicky answered with a shrug. “To be honest, Flynn's not so good with words, and he's even worse around women. The prettier a woman is, the more mute he gets.”

  “Awww. Does that mean you think I'm pretty?” Emma dragged a hand through the golden brown curls on Flynn's head. “I'm flattered, sweetie. So... your name's Flynn, right? Hey, I'm about to take a break in a few minutes. If you'd like to join me outside, I've got some kisses with your name on them.”

  Flynn's eyes lit up at her words. When he rose from his chair—silently, of course—Emma grabbed the lapel of his coat and dragged him through the saloon's swinging doors.

  “Unbelievable...” Nicky groaned as his head crashed against the table. “So unbelievable.”

  Even though he won another round, he felt like a loser.

  Three

  Jun was escorted to a massive airship by a pair of stern-looking soldiers, and there was nothing she could do or say to protest. When she tried to inquire about the airship's destination, neither of them had an answer for her. It was her first time boarding an airship, or even seeing one up close, but the soldiers gave her little time to admire the scenery. She barely had a chance to notice the ship's propellers and sails before she was dragged below deck and tossed into an ornately decorated bedroom. When they locked the door behind her, Jun realized she was a prisoner—albeit a prisoner in a very expensive cage. She no longer had a will of her own. She had become the emperor's plaything, and she would live her life according to his whims.

  Just when she thought the situation couldn't get worse, two female attendants swept into the room and announced it was time for her bath.

  “You're unclean! Filthy!” the older attendant said as the younger one prepared a tub of steaming water. “If you're going to be decent by tomorrow, we need to purify you!”

  “What's so important about tomorrow?” Jun asked.

  “Are you stupid, child?” the old attendant snapped at her. It was the last day she would be allowed to speak to Jun in such a shrewish tone. If she spoke so disrespectfully to one of the empresses, they would cut out her tongue. “Your wedding is tomorrow!”

  For a moment, Jun's heart forgot to beat. “So soon? Are you serious?”

  “Of course I'm serious! I'm never not serious!” the sharp-tongue woman informed her. “As soon as we touch down in Columbigo, that's when the wedding takes place. And it'll take us a full twenty-four hours to get there, so you better make yourself comfortable!”

  “Why Columbigo?” asked Jun.

  “I don't know, girl! Do you think I can read the emperor's mind?” The old woman swatted Jun's rear with a wooden bath brush, then she roughly ripped Jun's shirt from her body. “Now, stand still and let me undress you!”

  Jun shivered at the thought. She had never been naked in front of anyone, male or female, so when the attendant stripped her out of her clothes, she timidly tried to cover herself.

  “You're very modest,” the attendant observed as Jun attempted to hide her breasts. “That's a good thing. Modesty suggests purity, and the emperor will accept nothing less than a chaste bride. In fact, if he finds out you're not a virgin, you can expect your wedding night to end in tragedy.”

  “Wh-what would happen?” Jun asked, even though she had nothing to worry about. She had kissed a couple of village boys, but she never let them touch her.

  “Oh, he'd bludgeon you to death,” the woman matter-of-factly stated as she shucked Jun's skirt from her legs. “It happened once, about twenty years ago. He had chosen a new wife, but when he found out she was unclean, he beat her within an inch of her life. When she was close to dead, he tossed her to his dogs and let them finish the job.”

  “The emperor sounds like a wonderful man,” Jun sarcastically said. “I can't wait to marry him.”

  “You could do worse.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Hmph. Ungrateful girl!”

  When Jun was naked, the attendant grabbed her wrist and yanked her to the bath. The water was so hot, it was practically scalding. Jun drew a sharp breath when the immense heat first touched her skin. She wanted a moment to adjust to the temperature, but the old woman shoved her into the scorching water and brutally scrubbed her shoulders. Within seconds, Jun's skin was red and raw. The second attendant, a quiet young lady, gently wiped Jun's fingers with a sudsy sponge. She treated her future empress' hands as if they were something fragile.

  “Honestly, the emperor isn't so bad,” the older woman insisted. “If you abide by his rules and you don't tell lies, I hear he's a tolerable husband.”

  “And that's exactly what I've always dreamed of!” Jun joked. “Ever since I was a little girl, I've always wanted a tolerable husband.”

  “You jest, but at least The Exalted One doesn't beat his wives without reason. My own husband wasn't so kind. He'd raise his fists for the most minor offenses. If he wasn't in the mood to hear me sneeze, I'd end up with a broken nose. Believe me, I wasn't sad when the old bastard died!”

  “Quiet, ChangChang!” the younger attendant admonished the older one. “You shouldn't use such words around the emperor's intended!”

  “What? You mean bastard?” ChangCh
ang rolled her eyes as she lowered the brush to Jun's legs, which she scrubbed without mercy. “It's just a word, and words won't make her any less pure.”

  When Jun's bath was over, the women dried her and wrapped her in a plain white robe. As soon as the attendants excused themselves, Jun collapsed into bed with a sob. She couldn't remember the last time she cried, and Jun didn't like to pity herself, but she had never felt more miserable. After two days away from her village, she already missed it.

  “I'll never be back,” Jun murmured the words into her pillow, which was already soaked by tears. “I can never, ever go home...”

  Jun closed her eyes and tried to imagine the emperor's hands on her body, groping her. As of tomorrow, she would be his wife, and there was nothing she could do to stop him from turning her body into a toy. His oily, sausage-like fingers would explore wherever they wanted, even the most secret parts of her body, and she would have to endure it.

  Jun tightened her robe and hugged her knees to her chest. A fresh wave of tears exploded from her eyes when she thought about Emperor Ju-long removing her clothes. He was old enough to be her grandfather.

  The door suddenly opened and a serving boy entered with tea and cake. Jun didn't realize she was hungry until her stomach rumbled at the sight of it. She sat up, wiped the tears from her cheeks, and waited for him to finish his delivery.

  But the serving boy lingered much longer than necessary. He was momentarily frozen by the sight of her. Shuchun Jun was, without question, the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. In an instant, he was smitten.

  “You can put the tray on my bed,” said Jun, who could feel her shoulders shrinking as he gawked at her.

  “Do you want this servant to pour your tea?” he asked.

  “No. I can manage.”

  When he put down the tray, she expected him to leave, but he was determined to make a nuisance of himself. “Do you want this servant to sing to you? Empress Lu sometimes likes it when this servant sings to her.”

  “Thanks, but I think I'll decline.” As she poured her tea, Jun added, “And you don't have to keep calling yourself my servant. I'm not even an empress yet. What's your name?”