Kass lost it. Until this moment she hadn’t realized how much she missed talking to Zee-Zee on a daily basis. She thrust out a hand toward her friend, even as her eyes misted and tears spilled down her cheeks.
Zee-Zee charged up the steps. Instead of offering the hug Kass needed, her former roommate stood, arms akimbo, glaring down at her. “Pok, girl, looks like I just lost a bet. When Dorn told me you’d left the captain, I didn’t believe it. Not after him mooning over you for so long. I mean, that man worships you! I swear, Kiolani, if you broke his heart, I just may take you over my knee.”
Princesses didn’t cry in public. Well, fyd that. Kass’s tears went from free-flow to close to a bawl.
Belligerence fading, Zee-Zee slumped down on the bench next to Kass, studying her with a puzzled frown. “So it’s mutual,” she ventured. “You’ve hurt each other, and you’re both too batani stubborn to give in.”
A watery hiccup. Kass nodded.
“Care to share? It might make you feel better. And I admit I’m so curious I’m panting. I mean, you two were meant for each other. How did you mess it up so fast?”
Kass wiped her eyes. “I—” Oh, pok! How could she explain the scruples that kept her from sharing Tal’s suite? Impossible without revealing her secret, and she could never tell Zee-Zee before she told Tal. Kass heaved a frustrated sigh. “I’m sorry, Zee. I have a good reason why I felt I couldn’t live openly with Tal at Veranelle, but I’m not free to explain. I certainly never intended for us to break up, just to be . . . more discreet. Unfortunately—”
“He got the wrong message.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And you still haven’t straightened it out?”
“I tried to. Last night.” Avoiding any mention of secret passages, Kass admitted going to Tal’s room and, finding him gone, waiting for him in his bed. “But I was asleep when he came back,” she said. “This great weight fell on top of me. Only later did I realize he was abominably drunk. At the time I simply reacted to an attack. I tossed him hard against a wooden dresser before I realized it was Tal.”
“Oh, fy-yd,” Zee-Zee breathed.
“I made sure he wasn’t badly hurt and then, like the worst kind of coward, I simply ran straight back to my room, and I haven’t seen or heard from him since.” Kass reached for her handkerchief as once again her tears began to flow.
“You’re saying the great Tal Rigel was drunk?”
“If I’d lit a match, he would have breathed fire.”
“But that’s good, girl. That man’s so uptight and righteous, I doubt he’s had too much to drink since he was in the Academy. You got him going, set the great S’sorrokan on his ear. That’s quite an accomplishment for a little bit of nothing like you. So quit feeling sorry for yourself. Sounds like nothing more a lovers’ quarrel that got hung up on too much pride.”
Kass’s head came up, amber eyes shooting sparks. “I groveled! I was naked in his bed—”
Zee-Zee shrugged. “So it’s his turn. But if he doesn’t give in, you’ve got to remember he didn’t get to be boss because he ever admitted he was wrong. About anything,” she added with considerable emphasis.
Kass allowed a final tear to drip off her chin. She lifted her head, looking her much taller friend in the eye. “I think part of our problem is that we spent too much time together right after the battle. Adrenaline and passion, a volatile mix. By the time we got back to Blue Moon, we were overdue for a quarrel. Seeing you, talking with you, makes me realize how isolated I’ve been. I missed you, Zee. Don’t let us go this long again without talking, all right?”
Zee-Zee offered a rueful smile. “Aye, girl, keep that up and the tears are going to be mine.” She stood. “You coming to the common room for supper?”
Regretfully, Kass shook her head. “Afraid I’m not quite ready yet.”
“Make it up with him, Kass. The two of you need each other.” Zee-Zee squeezed Kass’s hand and then she was gone, down the steps and onto the path back toward Veranelle.
Kass was left with irony of it all. Here sat the Psyclid Princess Royal, her heart on her sleeve, waiting for a summons that would never come. Pok! Tal probably wasn’t even up yet. But if he was, Kass hoped he was suffering.
Pride. Pride, the tripstone of monarchs and fools. As the only free member of the Psyclid royal family, she was, technically speaking, the Psyclid government in exile, ruler of Blue Moon and everything on it. Including Reg rebels. Pride had smashed a krall into Liona Dann’s face. Pride would not allow her subjects to see her as S’sorrokan’s woman. Pride whispered this was her planet, her castle, the rebels mere guests on Psyclid soil.
So why did she hesitate to claim her power? Was it the influence of those anonymous years at the Academy, taking orders from everyone, or maybe the four years as a powerless prisoner in solitary confinement? At the Archives she had filled her mind with knowledge far beyond her wildest dreams, yet the lessons she remembered best were hurt, sorrow, rage, and a thirst for revenge.
And above all else, a hopeless fantasy of love.
Truth was, the ever honorable Tal Rigel would take the favors of a gifted Psyclid but would put a Princess Royal on a pedestal so high that he wouldn’t get any closer than bowing distance.
When he knew, she’d lose him.
The birds were singing again, insects on the move, but Kass’s comm unit remained silent. A glance at her handheld showed a blank screen. The afternoon wore on. Psyclid’s government in exile, ha! Sitting alone in a g’zebo in the woods, waiting for Tal Rigel to blink. Not only was he ignoring her, she was so far from exerting her authority she hadn’t even ordered the cleaning of the secret passages.
With resignation, Kass stood and walked back to the palace, head high. She might feel as low as the krall, but no one else was going to know it. In spite of Zee-Zee’s advice, Tal was going to have to make the next move. Princesses never blinked.
Kass was enjoying the last delicious bites of a white pudding topped by sliced fresh moonberries when the summons finally came. Not from Tal but from one of his aides. A meeting in one hour. In the Green Salon.
Business then, not pleasure. Was this Tal’s blink, an excuse to ease into seeing her while hiding behind the protection of others in the room?
If so . . . if he really was drunk because they’d quarreled, she just might forgive him. After all, nothing in Tal’s attitude even remotely suggested he knew she was L’ira. He had, in fact, never failed to go all Fleet captain and look down his nose every time she tried to tell him what to do.
And if he’d bothered to research her background, he would have found only the Kass Kiolani created by a team of experts. A girl of good, but not noble, family, born and educated in Psyclid City. In order to identify her as L’ira, Tal would have had to run facial recognition on every female Psyclid between the ages of twenty and thirty. And, after all, he himself had said he respected her secrets. And she believed him.
Yet how could he not know? Blast Vaden for instilling doubts! His version of Tal Rigel would embrace her, his sights set on ruling not only Psyclid but a new and better empire as well. Her Royal Highness L’ira Orlondami, suitable consort to the future ruler of the Nebulon Sector.
Kass winced. No! Tal would never . . . he had no imperial ambitions. He simply wanted the Empire gone.
Kass shoved back her chair and walked toward the couch, lost in thought. Tal said he wasn’t political, but when he spoke to a crowd, he shone with a charisma that captured everyone present. What if Admiral Rigel was thinking of founding a new dynasty? Did he see himself replacing the Emperor? Or what if he was maneuvering—and financing—the rebellion not for himself but for his son?
Fizzet! Kass’s knees gave way and she slumped onto the couch. She had no desire to be empress of anything. One day, in what she hoped would be the far distant future, she would be queen and ParaPrime, ruler of Psyclid’s physical and psychic worlds. A great honor for which she had been well trained, and which she would accept when the time ca
me. But at the moment she wanted nothing more than to fight for the rebellion and enjoy her freedom before taking up the responsibilities that would come only with the deaths of Ryal and Jalaine.
In her vague visions of the future, Tal Rigel had always been at her side—as consort. But, dear goddess, if his fate lay elsewhere . . .
A no-win situation, wasn’t that what her tutors had called it? Kass pounded her fist on the sofa’s padded arm. She should have seen it before. Her goals and Tal’s were not the same. Hers stayed on Psyclid. His did not.
But Ryal and Jalaine would rule for many years yet. There was time . . .
Or not. They’d never discussed Tal’s vision of the future. Victory seemed too far away. Unreal. But if Tal was the active arm of a secret cabal headed by Admiral Rigel, then the Empire’s downfall could come much sooner than expected.
And she would be forced to choose.
Fool! Wait ’til you’re asked. You slammed the man against a chest of drawers last night. You probably won’t even make his concubine list, let alone have a chance at empress.
Which she didn’t want anyway.
Dimi! She’d been daydreaming again. Faced with information she didn’t like, she’d slipped back into a place where she couldn’t distinguish between fantasy and reality. Not good. She was a better person than that.
With renewed energy, Kass bounced to her feet, went into her bedroom, and walked into the spacious closet. She’d wear one of her more dazzling dresses, touch up her facial enhancements, go to the meeting as L’ira . . .
No. She wouldn’t. She wasn’t ready for the look on Tal’s face. Would it be horrified surprise? Or a sly? Welcome, Princess. Of course I’ve always known.
She would go to the meeting just as she was. In the old dark blue trousers, white pullover shirt, and the ugly clunky shoes she’d worn for her walk to the g’zebo. She’d stay Kass. And watch and wait, trying to fight her way through the puzzle of Tal Rigel.
No! Not a puzzle. Tal Rigel didn’t do sly. Tal was S’sorrokan, rebel leader. Dedicated to bringing down the Empire.
Tal, her Tal. Lover of Kass Kiolani.
Ex-lover.
She could only hope it was going to be large meeting, where she could slink in and lose herself in the crowd . . .
It wasn’t.
Chapter 32
She wasn’t here yet. Tal scowled at the others gathered in the Green Salon, Regs at one end of the long table, Psyclids at the other. He drummed his fingers on the highly polished surface, and waited. He might have disgusted Kass last night, sent her running back to the tower, but he knew his woman. This was rebellion business and she would come. By keeping him waiting by—he glanced at his chrono—by three minutes, she was merely demonstrating her independence.
Or reminding him he was a drunken lout unworthy of her prompt response.
Mondragon, Tal noted, was wearing his customary smirk. With the intuition that had helped put him where he was, Tal had a good idea what the sorcerer was thinking. Mondragon was reveling in his role as Sorcerer Prime, probably silently taunting Tal. I know her better than you do, and I guarantee she’s really pissed. And then there was the reason for this meeting, the Sorcerer Prime’s assertion, I’m going back to Psyclid, whether you like it or not. And to ensure the triumph of his plans, Mondragon had brought backup, his sorcerer’s apprentices, B’aela, D’nim and T’mar.
Tal’s scowl deepened. Good thing he’d brought his own backup, Dorn and Mical seated to his right and left. And Kass? Where did she stand in all this?
If she ever got here.
The door swung open, and there she was, poised on the threshold, nose in the air, surveying the room with the faintly disgusted look of a Reg scenting a Nyx.
Her opinion of him? Very likely. Not that he could blame her, though he was the one with the bruises.
“I beg your pardon, Captain,” she murmured as she slipped into the room and scurried to an empty seat next to Mondragon, tipping the adversarial scales—five Psyclids to three Regs. Kass, playing subservient? Kass, siding with Mondragon? Or blatantly refusing to stand with Tal Rigel?
Tal’s temper flared. Until this moment he’d been suffering from abject remorse, but this was too much. One time, one lousy time, he’d drunk too much, and she was blowing it into an event of major proportions. He was the one with the grievance. She’d left him, just waltzed off to the Round Tower and left him flat. When she knew he needed her.
Actually, looking back . . . she’d tried to tell him about the secret passages, but he’d been so angry he wouldn’t listen. And last night when she’d come to him, then disappeared as mysteriously as she’d popped up in his bed, she hadn’t left the hidden door open by accident. Kass was never careless, even under stress. Therefore . . . she was pointing out just how unrealistic, heedless, and bull-headed he’d been. Pok, dimi, and fyd!
And now she’d arrayed herself with the Psyclids. Hopefully, a bit more punishment for his idiocy and not a political statement. He needed Kass’s powers to balance Mondragon’s dark determination to have his own way.
He needed Kass.
“Now that we’re all here,” Tal said with some emphasis, though Kass never looked up, “I’m going to let Mondragon explain why he asked for this meeting when we’ve barely had time to catch our breaths. Mondragon?”
Psyclid’s Sorcerer Prime tossed a long strand of black hair out of his face. “It’s quite simple, Captain. We wish to go home. Can you get us there?”
“We’ve had this conversation before. Why should I take such a risk? Why should you?” Tal swept a significant glance from Dorn and Mical to D’nim, T’mar, and B’aela, deliberately excluding Kass, who was absolutely, positively not going anywhere. “And most importantly, I did not go all the way to Bender’s Folly to retrieve an alleged prime asset for the rebellion, only to sacrifice him on a suicide mission to Psyclid.”
The Sorcerer Prime heaved an exaggerated sigh. “This too, I have explained.”
“But not to everyone here.”
Kass, her interest clearly caught, lifted her head and stared hard at Mondragon, whose challenging attitude suddenly dissolved into a simple shrug. “It is true I can be helpful in a fight—this I have shown. But taking back Psyclid is my goal, and should be yours as well. Come, Captain, picture it. Not just Blue Moon for a base, but an entire planet! What better way to put my talents to use?”
“He can do it,” B’aela asserted.
“Truly he can.” D’nim echoed her endorsement.
Tal crossed his arms. “Details, Mondragon. My officers are shaking their heads, as skeptical as I am.”
“We can take back the planet if someone organizes the planet’s psychic talents, and I am the obvious one to do it. I have the authority and the power. People will listen to me.”
Tal felt, more than heard, Kass’s gasp, though why she was shocked he had no idea.
Dorn snorted. “You ran all the way to Hell Nine to escape the invasion, and now you want to play hero? Come on, Mondragon, how are we supposed to swallow that?”
The Psyclid sorcerer sat tall in his chair, his black-clad shoulders rising well above the other three Psyclids at the table, his gold chain shining, the large cut crystal catching the light. “I ran from evil,” he responded stiffly, “and I am sorry for it. It is time I make amends.”
Tal let the silence stretch while he examined faces. Derision from Dorn and Mical. Fierce loyalty to Mondragon from his long-time companions. From Kass, the perfectly blank expression of someone who has no intention of revealing what she’s thinking.
He had to admit Mondragon had a point. The rebellion would still have Kass and K’kadi as special assets. And if Mondragon could do what he said he could—harness Psyclid talents into a weapon that could drive the Regs off the whole planet . . .
And, let’s face it, he wouldn’t mind having the Sorcerer Prime gone from their tight little world. In fact, he had to be very careful he was approaching this problem as S’sorrokan, analyz
ing Mondragon’s proposal from a military standpoint, and not with the thought of getting him as far away from Kass as possible.
“Many Psyclids have empathic or telepathic powers, have they not?” Tal said at last.
“Of course.”
“If—and this is only theoretical—if I should agree to your request, I must assume your presence on Psyclid cannot remain a secret. Your people will know you are there.”
“I am counting on it.”
Beside him, Tal heard Dorn blow out a breath. He had to agree. Mondragon was not rational. “That’s a hell of a lot of trust,” Tal countered.
“My people will remain loyal.”
“Kass?” She was now sitting with her hands steepled before her face, hiding her expression. Her opinion mattered. She knew both Mondragon and the Psyclid culture far better than he did.
“Kass will, of course, come with us,” the sorcerer declared. “People will flock to the . . . to the ParaPrime Designate even more readily than they come to me.”
“No!” Tal snapped. “Kiolani’s skills are needed on Astarte.”
“She is essential to our mission.”
“She is needed on Psyclid.”
“Be quiet, both of you!” Kass snapped. “I will hear the details of Jagan’s plan and decide where I can do the most good. I will go where I wish, when I wish.”
Mondragon stood, bowed, if a trifle mockingly. “Highness.” He slid back into his seat with the innate grace that set Tal’s teeth on edge. He could only assume Mondragon and Kass were playing obscure Psyclid games with each other. At least she defied the sorcerer and her captain equally.
Time for a little honest truth, with perhaps a dash of Rigel manipulation learned at his father’s knee. “Kiolani, you are my most important hidden asset. Astarte needs you. I need you.”
“My people need me.”
Fyd! No way was she going to Psyclid, even if he had to lock her in the Round Tower. The maze of secret passages he’d discovered that afternoon popped into his head, and he swallowed a rueful laugh. Even if Kass didn’t have a built-in escape route, all she had to do was open a window and transport herself to the ground. I will go where I wish, when I wish.
Rebel Princess Page 25
