by Cara Bristol
“The council and my father will review the investigation’s findings. I’ll be at the hearing. I should know more then.”
He approached the force field. “Can you be ready to leave at a moment’s notice? If I find a way to break out, I’ll come get you, and we’ll haul ass.”
She nodded. “Yes!”
Night side would be the best option for a covert landing, but they had to get there. “Do you have access to a skimmer?”
“Of course.”
“Can we get to it easily?”
“I’ll have it moved and prepped.”
The force field’s energy crackled. He wondered how badly it would disrupt his circuitry if he crashed through. If he’d had access to the control terminal, he could have hacked in, but the guards had activated the field with a handheld remote. “Don’t worry, Jules. Everything will work out,” he reassured her.
Chapter Eighteen
The more people assured her everything would work out, the more Julietta feared it wouldn’t. March had tried to hide his worry for her sake. His concern made her love him all the more.
At the appointed time, she entered the council hall to discover everyone already assembled with the meeting about to start. The room buzzed with conversation. In the councilory, a wan Kur leaned against his father, Omax. His presence surprised her, though it shouldn’t have. He’d almost lost his life. His stake in the outcome was as great as hers. He caught her gaze and acknowledged her with a nod.
Apparently no one cared she and her substitute chosen were in the room together. Not seeing one’s mate until the eve of the bonding had gone the way of the Sha’A’la. Poof!
However, it didn’t matter. There would be wailing and gnashing of teeth and banishment, but no bonding. Neither her father nor the council could force her to go through with it. More mature and stronger than she had been years ago, she would exercise her choice. Consequences would result, but she would deal with them. She shifted her gaze to the aged seer, whose head drooped as she nodded off.
Gifted with the sight of the ancient ones and aided by the Book of Prognostications, the seer never erred. Yet, she’d chosen Naimo as her mate—and according to her father, had offered little to say about the council’s insistence she bond with Kur. Didn’t she mind the council usurping her right? Perhaps the old woman wasn’t infallible like everyone believed.
But how could anyone have foreseen I would fall in love with a Terran—or that someone would kill Naimo?
Omax glanced at the old woman, too, before he looked away, his face impassive, controlled. A Terran father would have wept over the loss of his son. Xenians grieved in private.
Julietta took a seat to her parents’ left. Besides the councilors, her parents, and the seer, the assembled included the healer, the Sha’A’la officiant, several guards, and the head of imperial security.
The emperor raised and then lowered the scepter. “My daughter has arrived. Let us begin.”
A council member nudged the seer awake. Her gaze immediately sought out Julietta as if she’d known she was there all along. Did the seer have prescience or not? How could she have been so wrong about my chosen?
“We have gathered today to discuss the homicide of Councilor Omax’s son Naimo, the intended chosen of my daughter, and to review evidence against Mr. Marchand Fellows, the suspect.” Her father looked at Omax. “Councilor, I understand how difficult these proceedings will be for you. You have our deepest sympathy for the loss of your son.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Omax said. “I am fortunate one of my children survives.” He clapped a hand on Kur’s shoulder, almost knocking him over.
The emperor turned to his security minister. “For my daughter and Kur, both of whom were not present previously, please reiterate the evidence against Mr. Fellows.”
Julietta squeezed her hands into such tight fists her fingernails bit into her palms. He didn’t do it. I don’t care what the evidence is! It was all she could do to remain seated, but an outburst would not help the defense.
The minister cleared his throat. “Very well. Postmortem tests revealed Naimo was poisoned, with the point of entry being the wound inflicted by Mr. Fellows during the Sha’A’la. Though superficial, the injury allowed the toxin into his bloodstream.” He glanced at the healer, who nodded in confirmation. “Once we learned that, we recovered the blade wielded by Mr. Fellows. An analysis identified trace amounts of the poison on the tip.”
“How do you know the toxin wasn’t on Naimo’s skin already?” Julietta argued. “Maybe the nick introduced the poison to the blade.”
“Highly unlikely,” the security chief answered. “Besides, we have an eyewitness.”
“What? Who?”
“The officiant,” the minister said. “He observed Mr. Fellows apply the poison to his blade before the ceremony.”
“That’s a lie!” she burst out.
The officiant glanced between the security chief and Omax before looking at Julietta. “With all due respect, Princess, I observed Mr. Fellows wipe his saber blade with a cloth prior to the Sha’A’la. I did not think anything of it then, but afterwards, I felt duty-bound to bring it to the attention of security.”
“After we learned how the poison had been delivered,” the security minister continued, “we searched Mr. Fellows’ quarters and discovered a vial that contained the same toxin found on the blade.”
“He didn’t do it! He’s innocent. He wasn’t supposed to be in the arena at all.” She snapped her gaze to her father. “You asked him to serve.”
“Actually, I commanded him. He tried to refuse. He didn’t want to do it,” her father admitted.
“See! What could be his motive? As you all know, he is an alien. Why would he interfere in our ways?” Her impassioned defense betrayed her feelings, but March had no one to represent him. He sat in a holding cell, unable to speak for himself, unaware how precarious his position had become.
“A token protest, for show,” Omax spoke up. “If he’s innocent, why did he disappear for four days? And what exactly did he do during that time?”
Confessing March had been with her would only hurt his case. She lifted her chin. “Maybe you should ask him that. Perhaps he needs to attend this hearing. He is the accused, after all.”
“Once we decide what to do, he will be informed,” Omax said.
“We? Isn’t that the emperor’s prerogative?” Julietta asked.
“That is what I meant, of course,” Omax replied.
“Do you have any further information about Kur’s situation?” the emperor asked the healer.
“Nothing more than what we have already learned—he was sickened by the same poison that killed Naimo, and timing strongly suggests the toxin was administered at the banquet. Mr. Fellows was seated next to him and had ample opportunity.”
Kur appeared shaken, like he’d escaped a close call. He had, but not by any act committed by March.
She pressed a hand to her throat in horror. “This is not possible!” she cried. “What’s his motive?”
“You, Princess,” Omax said. “He wished to claim you.”
They couldn’t know…they couldn’t…she shook her head in denial and disbelief.
“We’re aware you and he had a relationship when you studied on Terra,” Omax said. “After the evidence pointed in Mr. Fellows’ direction, we investigated his background and discovered you two had been lovers.”
Her blood froze.
“Obviously, his motive was to stop the bonding by eliminating contenders.”
“No…no!”
Her father leveled his gaze on her. “Are you denying a past relationship?”
The truth had come out. Protesting further would make March look guiltier. She found her voice, a cold one, which she aimed at Omax, who had enjoyed an entire harem of lovers. “Our traditions allow for sexual recreation in addition to the bond pairing. Every single one of you have pursued outside diversions.” She paused. “And I was unbonded at the
time of my relationship.”
“But he is Terran, and does not share our traditions.” Omax’s voice was equally chilly. “We cannot trust an alien’s intentions. In killing Naimo, Mr. Fellows not only murdered a citizen, but he struck at the core of our society by halting the bonding of our future empress, thus undermining her sovereignty and thereby our government. Thankfully, my second son, Kur, is able to fulfill the role as your consort, but that he must do so represents yet another break in our ways. We cannot permit further deviation.”
Council members nodded. “It’s true,” another chimed in. “Rumors have spread the princess is considering abdication, leaving us without an empress. The people fear we will fall into chaos.”
“We must quell the false rumors before they spread further,” another council member said.
Tell them. Tell them now. She had to reveal the rumors were true, but the words caught in her throat. They would associate her decision with March. Of course, he had factored into it, but it wasn’t that simple. Abdication had been a long time coming. He’d only given her the courage to follow through.
Kur raised his hand. “When the princess and I are bonded, the rumors will subside.” His voice, weak at first, grew stronger and steadier as he continued to speak. “It will reassure them their world is as it was before.”
“We should move up the bonding,” Omax said. “The sooner it occurs, the better to serve the empire.”
The seer lifted her bowed head. “Tomorrow is the day foretold when two paths shall converge, and all shall be as will be.”
Omax nodded. “There you go. Our seer has deemed tomorrow as an auspicious day for the bonding.”
She was about to be trampled by a herd of stampeding yacuni. Speak up! Speak up! Julietta swallowed. “I canno—”
Her father cut her off. “I agree harmony is paramount, but before the bonding, we must conclude our investigation.”
“With all due respect, your Grace,” Omax said, “the evidence proves Mr. Fellows’ guilt. The question now is how and when we execute him.”
* * * *
“I must tell you something,” Julietta addressed her father and mother in their private chamber. She quaked inside, but could not delay another moment. She had intended to speak up at the meeting with the council, but when the tide had shifted toward execution, she feared adding weight to the evidence. The false, manufactured evidence.
“What is it?” her father asked.
She braced herself. “I cannot bond with Kur.”
“Of course you can. Although the circumstances are unusual, he and his family have agreed and, in fact, are quite eager to proceed,” her mother said.
“No, you don’t understand.” She clasped her cold, clammy hands to quell the trembling. She would never rule, but the blood of the emperors flowed in her veins, and she would not cower. “The rumors are true. I do not intend to accept the scepter. Not in a year from now. Not ever. I will not marry Kur.”
“What?” Her mother shot to her feet. “You must—”
Her father raised his hand. “Sit down, Aleta. Let me handle this.”
Her mother’s brow contracted into an angry furrow, but she dropped into her seat.
“Tell me how this came about,” her father said.
“I never wanted to become empress.” Though her stomach tumbled, admitting the truth aloud lifted a great weight from her shoulders. “I had planned to fulfill the responsibilities of my birth and bond with Naimo, but in light of recent events, I intend to abdicate.”
“It’s the Terran, isn’t it?” her mother demanded. “It has not escaped notice the bonding stain has faded.”
Julietta’s hand shot to her cheek. She’d forgotten about it. The absence must have been like a red flag to the council. “No,” she said, “although many will assume so. I always dreaded the day I would rule. Councilor Omax is correct that March and I had a relationship when I studied on Terra. But I came home to bond and accept the scepter until his arrival caused me to confront my heart’s true desires. I want to love and be loved. To wake each morning to the excitement and promise of a new day, not wish it would pass.”
“You are being selfish!” her mother snapped. “Love? You would sacrifice the future of your people for a paltry emotion? It feels hot, but it quickly grows cold, and then what do you have? If you must love, then seek your pleasure outside your bonding, but do not abandon your people.”
“I realize my decision is a shock, but of all people, I would have thought you, Mother, would be the one to understand.”
“One can sample a few alien trifles without wanting to become an alien!”
“I will always be Xenian,” Julietta said.
“Not if you do this,” her mother said. “You will become a pariah! If I’d guessed allowing you to study off planet would lead to this, I would never have encouraged you. I blame myself. I had no idea you would be so susceptible to Terran persuasions.” Her mother’s face reddened, and she shot her husband a look that said, do something.
“I wish you had come to me well before the council meeting,” her father said. “You should have said something months ago, years ago. Your intention places the empire in a precarious and potentially explosive position. We do not have a replacement if you abdicate.”
“There is Marji.”
“She is a child!” her mother cut in.
“Who has the desire and will to serve. She’s not that young. Perhaps with an advisor—”
“Your mother is correct.” Her father held up his hand. “A child cannot rule Xenia. According to tradition, I must step down in a year.”
“Then don’t step down. You are emperor, sovereign and supreme. Change the tradition.”
“It is not that simple.” Her father sighed.
To her, it was very simple. “March is innocent!”
“The evidence says otherwise.”
“The evidence is wrong. He would never have killed Naimo. Somebody planted the evidence to frame him.”
“What proof do you have?”
If she’d had some, March wouldn’t be in the dungeon. “My knowledge of the kind of man he is.”
“Even if I believed you, my word alone won’t satisfy the council.” The emperor shook his head. “They are out for blood.”
Julietta racked her brain for the right words to sway him. When she needed to be her most persuasive, finesse eluded her. “You could pardon him.”
“For killing your intended consort?” her mother burst out.
“He didn’t do it!” Even as she argued and fought for March’s freedom, incredulity at the turn of events persisted. Why had Naimo and Kur been targeted? Why frame March? She grappled for a motive. Did someone think eliminating her potential consorts would prevent her from becoming empress? If that had been the aim, then revealing her reluctance to rule earlier might have saved Naimo.
“How will it look? Naimo is dead,” her father said. “The facts indicate Mr. Fellows is responsible. You are refusing to bond with Kur, the son of an influential councilor, and then you and Mr. Fellows, with whom you have a previous—and existing —relationship, intend to fly off to Terra together. I assume that is your plan.”
No, that didn’t look good. But wasn’t it moot? “I would be banished anyway.”
“You will be after this!” her mother said.
“Aleta, please. Let me handle this.”
Her mother pressed her lips together in anger.
“You are the most powerful man on Xenia!” Julietta cried. And I’m your daughter! “You have ruled an entire planet for almost a quarter century. You could save him.”
“His fate has not yet been sealed. No final judgment has been rendered.”
Only because her father had insisted on further investigation. The council had been ready to pass judgment and execute it. Literally.
“He may only be imprisoned,” her father continued. “Or, the council may send him back to Terra.”
That hadn’t been the direction the
council had been headed. “What are the odds of that?” She couldn’t allow March’s life to rest on capricious prejudices.
“Whether one inherits an empire or is elected, a leader governs at the behest and cooperation of his people. Balance between dominance and diplomacy must be maintained. Too little force, your subjects will not respect your rule, and you lose control; too much and they hate you, they rebel, and you lose control.
“The will of the people, as evidenced by the council’s opinion, would not favor releasing Mr. Fellows without reparation for the death of Naimo.”
“But you could pardon him if you wanted to. For me.”
“To pardon is to forgive for a crime committed. Hypothetically, pardoning Mr. Fellows would be tantamount to a proclamation of guilt. Do you wish him stigmatized?”
Better stigmatized than dead! “Everyone already believes he’s guilty, and if it will stay his execution, then so be it.”
“I am sorry, Julietta. That I cannot do. I cannot subject the planet to further turmoil.”
“So you’re going to execute him?” she cried.
“That has not been decided yet.”
“But it’s your decision.”
“With the council’s advisement and support. As the leaders of the original tribes, they hold sway with the people and represent their interests. I’ll be frank, it would be easier to advocate for leniency if you were to proceed with the bonding to Kur.”
Chapter Nineteen
Julietta paced her quarters. March expected answers, but she had no good news to offer, only bad. If she could smuggle him to a launch port, they could escape in a skimmer and rendezvous with the ship he’d said he could get. But how could she break him out of his cell?
Bribery, perhaps? Maybe she could persuade a guard to release him or drop the remote and look the other way. Intimidation? She could demand March’s freedom and threaten his jailors with dire consequences if they refused to obey—but that hadn’t worked the last time she’d tried it.
She sank onto her bed. She had no power of her own until the scepter became hers. If she’d had guards who were loyal to her rather than her father or the empire, getting him out would have been easier. Unfortunately, she’d spent her last few years avoiding thinking about becoming empress, instead of building a coalition of supporters.
