The Duke & the Pirate Queen

by Victoria Janssen

  Any plans Maxime might have had for a private bath with Imena were dashed by the presence of his king. Giving in to the inevitable, he summoned servants to provide scrubbing and massage for himself and his three guests, then was unable to properly enjoy being scrubbed because he couldn’t help but remember the last time he’d been here with Imena. It was agony to see Sera, one of the servants, massaging her naked skin mere feet away. Even the skilled hands of his favorite body servant, Stefan, couldn’t ease his longing for Imena.

  Stefan trimmed his beard, mustache and hair, then washed everything. A subtle pressure of his smooth hands on Maxime’s chest let him know that other services were also on offer today. Maxime sighed and murmured, “I’m sorry, Stefan. I’m afraid I’ve become staid in my old age.”

  Stefan smiled as he smoothed an unguent through Maxime’s hair. “It was just a thought, Your Grace. Is it your captain?”

  Maxime, to his horror, blushed. He could feel the heat up to his hairline. Stefan chortled and used his hand to tip back Maxime’s head. “I’m very pleased for you, Your Grace. Now, close your eyes, I need to rinse your hair.”

  Maxime noted that Stefan and Sera left together, exchanging gossip in voices too low for him to hear. Deliberately, he chose a different soaking pool to the others, one too small for anyone else to join him, and slid beneath the water until the two servants had departed.

  After he surfaced, Maxime couldn’t stop himself from watching the king in his peripheral vision, hoping to discern his intentions; but Julien, bred and trained to the throne, was as unreadable as a handful of sand.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  IN THE SPACIOUS READING ROOM ON THE CASTLE’S first floor, Maxime finally learned the full extent of the plot against him. He sat on a small sofa, one arm flung along the back. Julien took the largest armchair (Maxime’s favorite), and Sylvie, now divested of pistols, was unusually demure in another armchair near him. Imena didn’t sit next to Maxime as he’d hoped; she stood somewhere behind him, outside the circle of seats.

  Gisele also stood, because she only remained long enough to give an account of events that had transpired during Maxime’s absence. She paced back and forth as she related how tavern tales had surfaced about Maxime’s fitness to be duke. Some of them were familiar, from before his accession. Every duke had detractors, whether they took measures to stop the dissent or not. But there were new tales that arose suspiciously soon after Imena had learned of the plot against Maxime’s life, tales that implied serious wrongdoing. Gisele had immediately begun to send her couriers out to find the sources of sudden rumors that Maxime had committed disturbing sexual crimes, or stolen a large shipment of jewels from the king, or plotted with foreign powers to overthrow other duchies. At the same time, printed broadsides had mysteriously appeared on the doorsteps of a large list of dissenters, and been posted on trees and walls about the university.

  Maxime hadn’t heard Gisele’s full report before this. The more he heard, the more enraged he became. He set his jaw while she explained how the duchy’s courier network had painstakingly tracked down the printer of the broadsides, who worked in the royal city, and from him obtained a list of runners who’d distributed the new tales, both print and verbal. The printer, who was very organized, had obtained a written contract from Lord Odell. The contract didn’t give specific details of what was printed, but Gisele considered it to be enough evidence against him.

  She’d spent quite some time investigating and quashing the rumors, time she was very irritated to have lost. Julien seemed to take the hint, and dismissed her after only one or two questions.

  Sylvie spoke next. Maxime recovered his temper somewhat as she spoke of her work with his young cousin Alys and of how she’d obtained information from Raoul. It was clear to him that Raoul was her lover. Trust Sylvie to find any opportunity to bang bodies.

  Sylvie finished her report by saying, “Odell did want money and position, but more than that, he wanted Lady Diamanta. He only needed money in order to convince her to marry him.” She shook her head, looking bemused. “He could have had any number of women. It was foolish to risk his position by attempting assassination.” She selected a sesame candy from the tray in front of her and popped it in her mouth.

  Maxime smiled ruefully. “I can understand why he did it.”

  “No matter his motives, he won’t be remaining in my country,” Julien said, and sipped his lemon sherbet.

  “He would have killed you, Maxime, and shown not a moment’s remorse. If he’d succeeded, he would already have lost his head. He’s no better than the pirate Captain Leung fed to the sharks.”

  Maxime glanced at Imena. She’d continued to stand for the entire discussion, half turned toward a window, staring out at the harbor. At Seaflower, he was sure. He said, “Venom deserved it. Besides, she’s licensed to kill pirates.”

  Imena said, “So, did Lady Diamanta hire other pirates to search for other captains?”

  “No,” Julien said, addressing her directly. “Your reputation preceded you, and she had the advantage of several visits to Maxime’s duchy. She knew your ship was the source of the balsam.” He took another sip of his sherbet and added, “I questioned her myself. I can always tell when she’s lying.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Julien didn’t express any outrage at being questioned by a mere ship’s captain. “Yes. She’d exhausted other avenues. She’d even hired a foreign cartographer in the hope of learning more about the overland trade routes. That was perfectly legal. In hiring Captain Litvinova, she only skirted the law. Diamanta did not instruct her captain to use violence.”

  “I lost crew to the pirates,” Imena said. She turned to face Julien. She wore one of Maxime’s long silken robes over a plain tunic and trousers, her feet bare, the beautiful curve of her skull still visible beneath her short hair. Maxime’s heart hurt from the suppressed emotion in her voice. “Four people died as a result of her greed. Two of them died slowly from their wounds.”

  “Indirectly,” Julien said. “Outside of the bounds of the duchies. The pirates were also hired outside the duchies.”

  That was all true, but it wasn’t right. Maxime hadn’t known any of the sailors who’d died. If he had—if Chetri had died, or Tessa, or Norris—he would not have let mere law stop him from seeking some form of justice for their deaths. He could only imagine how Imena felt. If Julien did nothing, then Maxime would.

  Power could be a good thing if he wielded it with justice and conscience, remembering the individuals who made up his duchy.

  “Hiyu,” Imena said. “Big Wim, Donkey and Yeadon.” She drew a deep breath after naming the dead sailors, and Maxime’s heart broke for her. She said, “Lady Diamanta will pay the expense of pensioning their heirs. Otherwise, it might appear that you and your country condone the use of pirates as part of your business dealings, and your ships might become prey for privateers.”

  Maxime blinked, impressed. Given that she had contacts among the privateers of the Horizon Empire, she’d made a serious threat. He didn’t think she would actually carry out the threat because almost all of the ships in the duchies belonged to Maxime, but it would impress her serious intent upon Julien where it would hurt most, in his treasure vault.

  Maxime tensed when Julien shifted in his seat and relaxed when Julien inclined his head to Imena, a remarkable gesture of respect. “Very well. Send the names to my chamberlain. Or you may give them to me personally, and I will convey the information when I return to the palace. Their direct heirs will receive the same pension as a member of my personal guard, and additional help if it’s needed.”

  Imena nodded once, decisively. “That’s satisfactory. Thank you.”

  Julien said, “Now, the other matter. Sylvie, you’re no longer needed. You may go.”

  As Sylvie, uncharacteristically silent, left the room, Maxime asked, “What other matter?”

  “The matter of your marriage,” Julien said pointedly.

  “Ah. I’d
hoped you’d forgotten about that.” Maxime shifted in his seat.

  Imena said, “I should also take my leave. I have duties on Seaflower to which I must attend.”

  Maxime cast her a desperate glance, but she was looking at Julien. He pushed his spectacles higher on his nose and said, “Captain Leung, I’d like you to remain a little longer. Maxime, perhaps we might have tea brought? Or would you prefer wine?”

  Imena said, her gaze steady on Julien, “I’m not your subject, and I don’t think I need to remain for this discussion.”

  “Would you be interested in changing your affiliation?” Julien asked. “Please sit, Captain. If you so desire. It would make me happy.”

  “Do I want to make you happy?” she asked. To Maxime’s gratification, she sat next to him on the sofa, crossing her legs and flinging her arms along the sofa’s back so their forearms touched. “What do you have to say to me, Your Majesty?”

  Julien said, “It’s what I have to say to both of you that will be of interest.”

  Maxime shifted his leg a little closer to Imena’s. He couldn’t quite touch her, not without being obvious. “I trust Diamanta’s plotting has convinced you she isn’t suited to be my duchess. Or anyone’s duchess.”

  Julien countered, “You might have made a good pair if you hadn’t treated each other as obstacles to be overcome.”

  “You can’t overcome a lifetime of antipathy so easily,” Maxime said.

  “Put her to work,” Imena said, interrupting. “At least give her the choice. If I were in her position, I might have killed you all before now, out of frustration.”

  Julien was silent. Maxime cleared his throat. “Actually, I’d hoped to send her off with Captain Litvinova, if they’d both agree.”

  Imena smiled at him. “I approve. I’d prefer not to see either one of them for quite some time.”

  “It was because of you that I thought of it.”

  Julien rose from his chair, forcing them both to look up at him. “Sylvie was right. You two are besotted with each other.”

  Maxime saw red. “That squeaking rat! That’s none of her business!”

  Imena said drily, “There’s a reason Her Grace Camille employs her.” Then she caressed his arm and took his hand. Maxime was absurdly pleased by her public gesture.

  Julien stared down his nose at Maxime, something he couldn’t do when both of them were standing. “Every aspect of my dukes’ lives is my business. I questioned Sylvie thoroughly before we arrived here.”

  Maxime said, “Your Majesty, if you know that, then you know that I would prefer to marry Captain Leung.”

  “I had suspected it,” Julien said.

  “I understand it’s out of the question,” Imena said. Her fingers tightened on Maxime’s. “I assume you know I’m of mixed blood. Hardly fit to marry into your aristocracy.”

  Maxime felt a pang in his chest. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, not caring if Julien saw.

  Julien dropped back into his chair, suddenly more casual, one leg flung over the chair’s arm, hands loosely clasped on his belly. “Is that what you think, Captain Leung? Daughter of Admiral Leung?”

  “Yes, it is,” she said. “Do you think my mother’s position gives her special privilege? Because it does not. She herself suffers politically from her youthful indiscretion.”

  “Which was marrying your father?”

  “Yes.”

  “So there would be no additional harm to her if you, too, married outside the empire.”

  “I can’t see the future,” she said.

  Maxime couldn’t remain silent any longer. “Your mother isn’t the most important person involved here. You are. You’d have me, wouldn’t you, if His Majesty endorsed our marriage?”

  “He won’t,” Imena said.

  Julien pinched the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb. “I am weary of people assuming they know what’s in my mind.”

  Maxime said tartly, “You can hardly blame us, when our lives might depend on your thoughts.”

  “Maxime,” Julien said, “I didn’t know you cared so much.”

  Maxime would have hit him if he hadn’t been the king. “Well, what do you think, Your Majesty? Wouldn’t Captain Leung make an admirable duchess? She’s intelligent, brave, a leader, a warrior. She might even make a better duke than me.”

  “No, thank you,” she said.

  “I think,” Julien said, “that you’re right.”

  “But,” Imena said, prompting.

  “But she might be too good for you.”

  Imena laughed. Maxime didn’t. He said, “I know that, Your Majesty. Yet I continue to hope.”

  “She does have some assets,” Julien said.

  As if she were a horse he planned to buy. Maxime thought about hitting him, right in his patronizing mouth. There weren’t any guards in this room. He stood a reasonable chance of survival.

  Imena said in a dangerous tone, “Please, enlighten us about my assets.”

  Julien stared at them both for long, uncomfortable moments. Then he smiled. “Indeed. For instance, Captain Leung is not part of my aristocracy. She is not and never has been a courtier. After recent events, I find that most refreshing. She’s not involved in the intrigues of the empire. And I needn’t fear ridiculous, convoluted plots against me. Captain Leung would simply kill me without fuss.”

  Imena was silent. Her fingers squeezed Maxime’s until they began to grow numb.

  Julien spooned up more of his lemon sherbet. He stared at Imena over the tops of his spectacles as he said, “Also, despite her assessments of her social rank, she is still linked to a powerful family in the Horizon Empire. The empire which never hesitates to inform me they are the most powerful in the world. The captain might say I am unimportant to them, but that sort of connection is important to me and to the duchies. You have enough social rank, Captain Leung. And not enough social rank to be potentially troublesome to me.” He paused. “You do understand me.”

  Maxime’s heart began to pound. Deliberately, he pried his fingers free of Imena’s and tugged her close to him. She didn’t resist, too occupied with staring at Julien.

  Julien leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “Aside from all that, Her Grace Camille has been pestering me about the women of the court. She’s done good work for me since her accession, so I am inclined to indulge her. Putting you in a position of power might please her for a time, and reduce the number of letters she sends me.”

  Maxime stifled a chuckle. If he allowed himself to laugh, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to stop.

  Julien continued, “Not to mention that I’m sure a number of my courtiers will be afraid of you, Captain Leung, particularly if you visit court with those tattoos blazoned all over. If you’d be willing to intimidate one or two of them for me every now and then, I would be grateful.” He smiled at her. It was a charming smile, which always surprised Maxime, though it shouldn’t have. “In short, you’d make a perfect duchess.” Julien turned to Maxime. “If you don’t marry her, I’ll be sorely disappointed.”

  Maxime grabbed Imena’s head and kissed her. “Marry me,” he said. He kissed her again. To his surprise, his hands shook. “Please.”

  Dazed, she stared at him, then tipped their foreheads together. “Can it be so easy?”

  “Yes,” Julien interjected.

  “Please,” Maxime murmured. “I would love you if you were the lowliest sailor, you know. Do you love me?”

  She lifted her hand and laid it against his cheek. “I do. I’ll marry you.” She kissed him softly, briefly. Then she turned to Julien. “I’m not marrying him because of you,” she said. “I won’t be bought in that way.”

  The king was finishing his lemon sherbet. “It was melting,” he explained, staring into his goblet. “Captain Leung, I didn’t intend to buy anyone. That never works out well. Would you accept an offer of citizenship? In the ordinary way of things, you’d get that simply by marrying, but since Maxime is a duke and you’re a for
eigner, I must grant you citizenship first.”

  Maxime took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He was still in too much shock to feel happy yet. He couldn’t let go of Imena. He said wryly, “I assume there’s a fee involved?”

  “Naturally,” Julien said. “Which you will pay.” He named the sum. Imena’s eyes widened.

  “Done,” Maxime said.

  Imena gave him a look. “I didn’t accept the offer of citizenship yet.” His panic must have shown because then she grinned and said, “I accept, Your Majesty. If you will excuse us?” She climbed into Maxime’s lap. “We’d like to celebrate our engagement.”

  Maxime met with Diamanta in Gisele’s office. Imena had gone back to Seaflower to speak to her crew and have Norris pack her things for an extended stay ashore. Norris would accompany her to the castle along with Roxanne and Tessa, who would be Maxime’s guests.

  As they’d discussed ahead of time, Gisele did most of the talking, while Maxime sat at his ease. Diamanta wore a traveling gown in charcoal gray with a high collar that nonetheless managed to show off her bosom through the judicious use of decorative seams. Maxime was unmoved. With every word Diamanta spoke, he became more grateful that he had not agreed to marry her.

  They were far too much alike. He would have spent all his days looking for double and triple and quadruple meanings in every minor comment and gesture. He admitted privately to himself that she ought to have been a duke, or a duchess who ruled her own duchy, like Camille. If she had been, he might have been afraid of her. Of course, if she’d had such power in the first place, a great deal of her scheming might not have been required.

  Gisele said, “I have a contract here. You would be officially in the employ of Duke Maxime. In all matters save those of the ship’s business, you would be in command of Captain Litvinova.”

  That was chancy, but Maxime thought it would work. Diamanta would not risk her life by allowing Captain Litvinova to commit piracy.

  Diamanta uncrossed her legs and leaned forward in her chair. “I have changes to make to the subsections.” She glanced at Maxime. “However, the basic structure of the agreement is sound. I infinitely prefer this contract to the marriage my cousin originally suggested.”