He was calm and nonchalant, but she sensed the anguish he hoped to conceal. She wasn’t quite sure what to say. “I’m … sorry. It is such a great tragedy, a horrible accident.”
“They did not die by chance,” he said.
“What?”
“You remember the escaped slave I told you about? He came across Tyler Oaks and met Royce Tyler, the son of its founder. Have you heard of him?”
“Yes. He was a descendant of the throne of England on Earth. I heard something not too long ago about him. He was a bit insane, stirring up trouble … he died here.”
“The sovereignty wanted you to think that he was mad. He was as rational as you or me.”
“You knew him?” she asked, surprised.
“My father did—my father knew him quite well. But anyway, Tyler took up the slave’s cause. Not many people believed him, at first. He was made up to be a fool, like he was plotting to get at the Crown, since he was a descendant of an Earthian throne. Most Adrielians thought that he wanted to rule. But, he and a few of his supporters made their way into a mine and recorded the evidence needed to make the subjects believe. The monarchy found out and couldn’t have him expose the truth to the whole planet, so he was murdered, along with the entire village.”
“Murdered!”
“Yes,” he said, matter-of-factly. “The assassins had to make it look like a disaster so as not to arouse suspicion. They spread the poisonous toxin in a gaseous state, to kill them all before they knew what was happening, and it was best to get everyone since they didn’t know whom Tyler’s sympathizers were. Then they put traces of it in the wells for the investigators to find. And that documentary you saw—that was a mockery, a staged production. It was a way to quiet the rumors Tyler had started. Ah, the sovereignty. When it wants something done, it is done.”
Sarra was incredulous. “You can’t be serious! You believe that the sovereignty could do something like that?”
“I know. I can’t prove it yet, but I know.”
“But then … you think that my father did this!”
The speculation in his sober eyes gave her her answer.
“He wouldn’t! I swear to you on my life, it wasn’t my father!”
“Somehow, I’ve come to believe you, Sarra,” he said, wryly. “But someone within the government did.”
A wild idea came. “His advisors! Zenno! No—I can’t see any of them involved in something as horrid as this. You must be mistaken. It was simply a coincidence that Tyler died then!”
He headed up a hill, and she followed. “No, it wasn’t,” he said. “But, it may be the advisors who are responsible. They don’t seem too anxious to get you back. After my men took the guns at the exchange—a ruse, I’ll admit—we found out that there’s a self-destruct mechanism in the M-5s—they explode after a certain amount of uses. They stalled off the exchange while the engineers figured out how to sabotage the guns. I expected dummy guns that we would have to fix. But, we warned that there be no tricks or you’d be harmed—a bluff, but certainly one a desperate father would heed. They—”
“I know my father,” she interrupted. “And he would have taken your bluff seriously.”
“Yes. But they’re refusing access to the mine until you are returned. It’s obvious. They’re hoping we’ll blow ourselves up with the defective guns, and end their problem. But, whoever ‘they’ are, this is the blood on their hands …”
Sarra gasped when they reached the top of the hill. Graves were everywhere, filling a vast churchyard. Raine took her arm and she protested, but he made her walk down the incline with him.
She forced herself to be strong, but her throat grew tighter in her emotion. He stood with his back to her, staring out at the burial grounds, quietly mourning his loss.
“Your family?” she managed to ask.
“They are here. I would be also, if I hadn’t left for Myrrh that night. I sometimes wish …” He was silent a long while, and then he said, “When I found out, I went back to Myrrh and built that cabin. But, I couldn’t rest. My hate—I vowed to avenge their deaths! God was their only witness, and I—His. I will see to it that they didn’t die in vain.”
Sarra swallowed. “Who … were …”
“Their names wouldn’t matter to you. My family was a common, simple folk. They were innocent. It was Royce Tyler who caused this, but for a good reason. ‘When one is a slave, no one is free’, he had said.”
“It is important. Who?”
“My mother, my father … I had a brother and sister.”
Sarra could no longer hold back her tears. “I didn’t know!” she choked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“No royal would listen to Tyler. Would you have believed me? You would’ve thought that it was just another lie given to you by a savage.”
She nodded, miserably.
He turned and walked back in the direction they had come. She trailed behind him, guilty and dejected. His mood was black on the ride back to the suite, and they still hadn’t spoken when entering the rooms. He moved about restlessly and she sat in a chair, lost in her own melancholy, not quite daring to speak. He paused at the window, gazing out on the beginnings of the sunset.
Raine Nicks cried. Although he was tall and motionless, she could sense his emotion.
She rose and came up behind him, the sorrow spilling from her eyes. She placed her cheek on his back and her palms on his breast, and she held him, becoming one with him in their silent tears.
Chapter 21
Sarra had to know. She had kept her bouts of illness a secret from Raine so far, but feared that she couldn’t hide it much longer. When he was away with Darius for the afternoon, Cronala came to her suite, and it was then that she mustered up her courage.
The Arab gave her a gold-colored dress. “I brought you this,” she said amiably. “I imagine you are tired of the others.”
Sarra smiled. “That’s nice. Thank you.” Nervously, she began pacing. “Cronala, can I ask you a favor?”
“Sure,” she said with a shrug.
“Would it be possible for me to … get a pregnancy test?”
Her brown eyes widened. “You feel that you are?”
“No,” she lied, still trying to deny it. “I just want to be sure, is all. You know how it is.”
“You are not on the contraceptive?” she asked, incredulously.
Sarra shook her head. “Alma—my aunt—told me that Father wanted an heir as soon as I could. But, he meant from Lord Gray, not …”
The receptive dark woman blew a whistle through her teeth.
“Please,” Sarra urged. “I have to know.”
“I’ll be right back.”
When Cronala returned, Sarra went to the bath for her privacy. Her hands shook while she sat and wrapped the thin narrow band around her wrist. She shut her eyes tightly while waiting for the minute to pass. She prayed that when she looked, the soft metallic bar would be a black color, and not green. Lifting her lashes, she gasped, seeing the latter.
“Dear God. No.”
She stared, aghast. A mixture of emotions pulsated through her, and strangely they weren’t all unpleasant. This confirmed her greatest fear—she, the princess royal, carried a commoner’s child. Raine Nicks’ child!
Sarra suspected that—subconsciously—she had known it from the start. She must simply accept it and brave this horrendous fact like she had done with everything else—one day at a time. And, trust in the future although tomorrow had never before seemed so alarming …
The buzzing at the door brought her out of her trauma.
“Princess!” the distraught voice called. “Are you all right in there?”
Sarra took the test off and rose on her unsteady legs. She would trust Cronala—if she didn’t tell someone she would surely burst! But, it must be their secret—Raine couldn’t know! But, how could she keep this news from him for forever?
As soon as Cronala saw her pale, strained face, she knew. “Oh no!” she cried. “You
are!”
Sarra nodded and handed her the band.
“Oh, Princess! I’m so sorry!”
“Cronala,” she said absently, lost in a daze. “Why won’t you ever say my name?”
“I—I … Sarra, you are in shock! Come, sit.”
Her friend helped her over to the lounge and took the place beside her. Sarra gazed unseeing out the window, the consequences beginning to impact upon her. “I can’t believe this!” she breathed. “What will my father say? His daughter, carrying a Revolutionary’s baby!”
“Will you abort it?” the woman asked compassionately.
“No, I don’t … I don’t think I could do that,” she stammered.
“Yes,” Cronala considered. “God has made His choice. I suppose that the princess’ heir is suppose to be here, and not in Heaven’s mystery. What will you do?”
“I don’t know,” she said, and sighed.
Sarra rose and went to look out on the fresh, vibrant lawns. Quickly she turned to the sympathetic brown eyes. “Swear to me that you’ll tell no one? Not Raine, or Darius. The future of the Throne is at stake!”
Catching the desperation on the angelic face, Cronala wasn’t envious. She knew—after what Darius and Raine had told her—that the princess hadn’t been aware of the sovereignty’s corruption, and that the king might not be involved. Before, she would have relished the chance to upset the royalty. But, now …
Certain that she could keep her promise, she said, “I swear.”
Sarra relaxed, believing that she could trust her instincts about her confidant.
Feeling rather awkward, Cronala rose. “Is there anything you need? Anything I can get you?”
“No. I guess I need to be alone, right now.”
Understanding, the woman nodded and left.
Only then did Sarra let the tears come, washing away her childhood.
***
Sarra had a plan. It would solve her problems—if only on a temporary basis. Although her child most likely would never know his father, he wouldn’t be born illegitimate. And her scheme would keep her from being forced into wedlock with Taylor Gray, because how could she marry him if she already had a husband?
She waited until darkness fell, until the half-moon began climbing the star-sprinkled sky. She was in Raine’s embrace, them both satiated—for the moment—from passionate lovemaking. Staring at the faint glow beyond the long window, she wondered if her tongue could actually say the words.
She summoned up her bravery and sat up. “I’ve been thinking. I might have a way to help the slaves in the rainbow mines.”
“How?” he asked.
“Marry me.”
“What?”
Sarra couldn’t look at the shadow beside her, even though she wouldn’t be able to see the dumbfounded expression she knew was there on his face. “I don’t like the idea, either!” she lied, certain that having a wife wouldn’t appeal to this man. “But it may be the only way! It could save your life!”
He sat up against the headboard. When he spoke he sounded surprised, and yet a little amused. “The esteemed princess royal is asking for a commoner’s hand?”
She was glad that he couldn’t see her blush. “Well, what better way to stop the corruption? There is evil in the government and I want to find out who it is. As my husband, you couldn’t be harmed and you’d be able to free the oppressed. Father would have to listen to you, then!”
After a moment, Raine rose and moved about erratically. “You’re serious.” He was silent a long while, and then he said, “Do you honestly believe that your father would accept me as his son-in-law? He’d have me executed on the spot just for the audacity of it all.”
“No, he wouldn’t. I will explain it to him. When he sees what’s been going on in his government, he’ll understand. He might even regard you as some sort of hero.”
Raine had a good laugh, imagining that.
“It’s possible!” she protested. “Although, it is true that I couldn’t tell the subjects, at first. If they knew about the marriage, they’d conclude that I was an airbrain, not fit for the Crown. I’d be forced right out of being father’s heiress and I can’t do that—it would break his heart.”
“And just how do you expect to keep something like that a secret?”
“Father would find a way. See … it wouldn’t last long. The injustice would be uprooted, and when everything settles down, we’d get divorced. Then you’d go your way and I’ll … just stay there.”
“Why would you want to do this?” he asked suspiciously.
“I guess I feel guilty. I have a conscience. I want to help the people.”
Sarra bit her lip to keep her own selfish motives private. Most importantly, her baby would be legitimate no matter how brief the matrimony. She’d worry about explaining her heir to Adriel when the time came.
Raine scratched his chin, baffled. There had been a time when he had feared that raping the king’s daughter would set off a war that would ravage Adriel, leaving the rainbow miners destroyed. How ironic that this same daughter would disregard everything to help him, going so far as to offer marriage. “Do you realize that you are conspiring with a Revolutionary?” he uttered.
“It isn’t like that. Adrielians will see that the rebels work for them, not against them.”
He stopped at the window and looked out at the dark. “Aren’t you forgetting something? What about Lord Gray?”
She took her eyes off his naked silhouette. “I may have to wed him someday,” she said, though secretly vowed that she’d find a way to escape that trap.
“What if I wouldn’t want the divorce?”
Sarra could guess why. She wished that he would love being her husband, but concluded that it would be unlikely. She had best face reality; he would simply try to take her power away and use it for himself. The Throne was not a commoner’s place.
She held her breath and then the words came out in a rush. “Then I’d have to have you executed.”
Raine blew out a musical note. “Hmmmm. Talk about a proposal. How can I refuse?”
“You mean you accept?”
“Your wish is my command.”
Sarra’s gaze followed him while he returned and slipped between the sheets. She kept her distance, feeling somewhat shy and embarrassed. Of course, it wasn’t like he was really her betrothed, but …
He chuckled. “So this is to be the fate of Raine Nicks. There ought to be a law. Caught and caged by a little bit of fluff, and she drags him to the alter to make him repent his ways.”
“Bit of fluff! Drags!” she cried, miffed. “You can still refuse—it wouldn’t bother me!”
He rolled atop her, pinning her arms to the bed, and he kissed her thoroughly, leaving her panting. “Refuse you?” he muttered hoarsely. “That would be like denying oneself the beauty of the twilight, the stars. Had this common man known that he could be one with the royal hand—whatever the reason or how brief—he’d have placed a ring on your finger long ago.”
Sarra wasn’t sure if he was jesting, or not. “Truly?”
“Truly. It’s a shame we can’t have a fine wedding for all the world to see.”
She smiled wistfully. “We had best get it done. Soon.”
“Tomorrow.”
She nodded. He fell down at her side and bent his nose to her nape, savoring her scent while his hand pleasured her breast.
“One more night of freedom,” he teased. “I had best make it a good one.”
As Sarra arched up to meet him, she swore that she heard him whisper, “But it will be natural to call you ‘wife’.”
***
Sarra couldn’t quite believe that it was really happening. Just a short time ago she hated Raine and everything that he stood for, and now she was marrying him. Although the union would be a sham, she was as nervous and excited as any average bride-to-be.
Darius and Cronala were stunned by the news.
Good God, Raine!” the dark man gasped. “Have y
ou lost your mind? King Ellis will never allow this—not even for a moment! He’ll kill you and hang you up to dry!”
Raine was as nonchalant as ever. “Trust me.”
The Arab’s eyes had a wild look. “Princess Sarra, I beg for you to reconsider! Raine is my friend and he sometimes is too reckless for his own good! He—”
Raine scowled. “Just accept it! There’s nothing you can do.”
Darius shook his head, mumbling to himself. He had speculated that perhaps the princess was a sorceress, after what she had done to his woman, and now to his friend. But, could witches plant good seeds?
Cronala knew the secret reason for the bold plan. When the regal gaze turned her way, she nodded knowingly. “I have just the dress for you,” she said, and went off to find it.
As the betrothed couple exchanged warm and impish glances, Darius swept his hands helplessly up into the air. “It’s madness! Pure madness!”
Sarra had time to wonder if the Arab was right when the four of them were in the auto that sped above the wilderness. She was in the back with Raine, his arm familiarly above her shoulders. She couldn’t see out her tinted window, and guessed that he didn’t want her to know their whereabouts. She didn’t care. The men had located a man of God who would perform the ceremony, and had conjured up the suitable rings and wedding accessories. Although she was growing weary from the length of the journey, she was comforted by the fact of the destination.
When Darius stopped the vehicle, Raine briskly ushered her through the back entrance of a small, old-style, country church. Cronala helped her dress in the vestry, talking up a storm until they both were laughing like schoolgirls. Sarra was glad that their wounds had mended and the bruises had faded, wanting nothing to mar this day. She wasn’t allowed to see the mirror until Cronala was finished with her, and when she saw her reflection, she was awestruck.
It had been a long while since she had worn anything as splendid as this. The rich, satiny gown was a beautiful shade of blue rose, all gleaming and bright, and the off-the-shoulder décolleté and sleek flair of the generous skirt were an understated elegance. Ivory lace encircled the high waist—the only embellishment—and the mid-arm gloves and delicate slippers were also of the same snowy hue. It wasn’t a traditional wedding dress, and the accoutrement was a breathtaking tiara of tiny crystals, the gems shimmering against her golden hair that was all coiled and tiered like a goddess’ coiffure. She peered at her feline eyes and marveled about their deep-blue glow, and about how the crimson color on her cheeks and lips contrasted darkly with all the azure luminance that seemed to radiate from the glass.
Queen of the Stars (The Royals of Adriel Book 1) Page 27
