by Cheri Chaise
I hardly slept during the night. Even curled up in Trina’s warmth, sleep eluded me. I considered brewing a pinch of the tea that helped the ambassador find relief from her troubles as the hours dragged on. However, I’d need my full faculties to get through tomorrow, and a drugged-induced hangover would certainly impede that.
The hours awake provided plenty of time to work out the details remaining in our plan. Get in. Get the goods and the information on the girls. Then get out. Trina’s connections made obtaining the necessary parts somewhat easier, but I was still uneasy about Jace accompanying me to the brothel as my assistant.
Getting caught with an underage passenger aboard my ship would be the least of our worries if we were discovered using illegal facial overlay technology. It was still not foolproof technology. If Jace didn’t put everything together correctly, any flicker would reveal our subterfuge and land my mech tech right back in a cell at the detention center.
More than Trina’s reputation would end up on the line then. If forced, I’d do the one thing I swore three cycles ago to never do again.
Contact Irik.
After our run-in on Port Flint, it wasn’t as if he didn’t know where I’d been hiding any longer. I just knew that with each contact, maintain distance would make it that much harder.
“Dahlia.”
Jace’s whisper jerked me from the edges of sleep and dreams of the crown prince – my true love who visited only in the dark recesses of the night to keep the nightmares at bay. I eased from the sanctuary bed to draw aside the curtain he hid behind and stepped into the passageway. At least he had finally learned to respect the sanctity of my work space.
Even if that didn’t extend to my body.
“Damn, I’m getting hard just looking at you,” he whispered.
I stopped his hand before he stroked my bare breast. “I’m with a client, Jace. What did you need?”
The fog of lust lingered as emerald eyes rose from my nudity and connected with my likely reddened eyes. Then he smiled. “Watch this.”
He put a hand in the pocket of his dirty denim trousers, and suddenly the smiling face transformed into the hateful visage of one Sir Mittrand Kranst. I involuntarily flinched.
“You put this together already?” The image flickered as my fingers touched skin to reassure that my mech tech was under there somewhere.
“The ambassador really hooked me up with all of this from her security systems.” With another press of a button, he became my grinning lover again. “Masking technology is all pretty much the same. Having the good equipment makes it downright simple to manipulate anything you want.”
“But you still sound like you. And it flickers. You said you could keep it from flickering when the connection is interrupted. We can’t have that if you encounter objects like my fingers.”
“Give me time. The Galactic Empire wasn’t built in a day. I’ll get it done, so don’t worry.” He leaned in closer. “I’m a genius at more than just fucking.”
I sighed and didn’t even try to hide the eye roll. Or the smirk that tugged at my lips. “This afternoon I’ll demonstrate the tea ceremony and drag out the explanation of its function. Then a review of yesterday should get us through the remainder of the day.”
“And if you can get him to give you a more detailed tour of his personal living space, that would help me prepare for several possible escape scenarios.”
“Fine. But you’ve got to be ready to go with me the following afternoon. It’s in the cleansing ceremony that I’ll need you.”
He grabbed me so fast, I couldn’t stop his clutches this time. Fingers caressed then raked down my spine. By the time his hand trailed down to solidly claim my ass and his lips met mine, I wasn’t sure I wanted to stop. Or could.
“I need you too.” A groan escaped as he slid fingers down into my seam.
My moan met his as I opened my mouth to his thrusting tongue. Seeking. Claiming. Just what I needed to soothe my rambling thoughts.
Until he spoke again. “Fuck…you taste like sweet pussy drippings.”
A stirring in the sanctuary gave me the strength to push Jace back, thought my knees trembled with unrequited need. “Don’t you have tools to play with?”
“I’ve got a tool for you to play with right here.” He grabbed my hand and shoved it against the bulge in his crotch.
“Go,” I whispered with a squeeze before sliding behind the curtain.
“Work, work work,” Jace intoned as he slunk away down the passageway.
I closed the door with a deep sigh, slid between the sheets and laid Trina’s golden curls against my naked breast. The breast Jace had tried to touch – only now I wished I’d have let him.
Because if this didn’t work, if things went awry, there was a good chance my mech tech wouldn’t just end up rotting away in enforcement detention.
He’d disappear.
I couldn’t let that happen. There was only one guarantee that just might keep the worst, possible outcome at bay – for all of us.
I lay beside Trina, stroking my fingers softly through her tumbled mane before my contemplations drew me again from the bed. I dressed in the ambient light of the sanctuary then smoothed my long hair into a low twist that hung over my shoulder. He always did prefer my hair down.
Gossamer robe in hand, I snuck quietly down the passageway and made my way to the silent bridge. It lit up the moment I stepped inside and the door swished shut.
“Hardlock on the bridge, BIP,” I murmured.
The clunk of steel rods thrusting into place confirmed the directive. “Bridge on hard lockdown.”
Jace was busy playing with his tech. Rylan secured away in his old pod – hopefully asleep after a busy evening of preparations. Even so, I still wasn’t willing to take any chances of someone coming upon me as I prepared to do something so utterly stupid.
But necessary.
I straightened the dress and slid the golden gossamer over my arms, leaving the hood down so my dark locks were on full display. Muscles were tight with nervous energy as I worked out what I wanted to convey. Then I rolled my neck as I moved to stand in front of the proper wall panel.
Only one time I ever remember seeing such a communique. One time, even though the technology was common. That’s all it took to discover the disastrous circumstances it brought.
But that was a long time ago.
Deep breath. I could do this. I had to do this. It wasn’t as if my Rim location were still a secret after the surprise on Port Flint. But such a contact might just do the unthinkable – draw us closer together.
And that was something I had to avoid.
“BIP, open and activate the holomessenger.”
The panel in front of me slid aside slowly until a flash of blue lights pixelated all around my body like a million painless pinpricks.
“Holomessenger activated.
“Set security parameters to eyes only.” I only hoped the technology had improved over time. If not…
“Destination?”
“The royal transport starship Lion.” My voice wavered.
“Recipient?”
I raised my chin and thrust back my shoulders, firming my tone. “His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Irik.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“I think that tea ceremony demonstration went rather well,” I said to Sir Kranst’s scowl. “Don’t you agree?”
We’d skipped the faded green sitting room and gone straight to the study in his personal quarters to partake of delectable treats – or at least as much as my nervous stomach allowed.
Throughout the remainder of last night, I’d lay tormented by my actions. As if I’d betrayed a trust.
Which unfortunately I had.
But it was done. The holomessage sent. Now all I had left to do was follow through these next few days to ensure the plot unfolded as we’d planned.
Sir Kranst swallowed the morsel, crumbs scattering from his lips to dot the fine cloth of his trousers. And my dre
ss. “I thought you were going to do a demonstration with the oil stuff today too.”
“Sir Kranst, it takes time to go over then practice each step.” I refilled our cups and set down the pot of steaming water on the warmer I’d brought. Then I slowly ran my hand gently down the handle to emphasize my point. “Every movement…every nuance requires delicate management. Seduction isn’t something learned in a single, simple lesson.”
I picked up the china cup and ran a fingertip along the rim. Steam rose from the comforting liquid as I drew it closer to my lips like a silent invitation.
The nobleman just grunted, my movements completely lost on him.
“And with so many girls to teach,” I continued, “you can’t expect to get through everything in one day.”
“Alright then. I’ll choose ten of the girls for you to keep training, and then they can show the others later.”
I had to try a new approach to maintain this client’s interest. I took a sip of the heated tea. “Tell me, Sir Kranst. What has been your experience with the ways of the Courtesan Court?”
“Well, there’s you…”
“Yes?” I encouraged when he didn’t continue.
He eyed me skeptically. Studied me like perusing an item in a store, deciding whether the object of his interest was worth the purchase or better to place it back on the shelf. “Mostly what I’ve heard from my business associates who have more intimate experience with your kind.”
“My kind?”
“You know…courtesans, as opposed to mere whores or passagewalkers.”
Which meant he thought about as much of courtesans as he did those in his brothel. “It’s important to remember that those of us of the Courtesan Court are nearly autonomous, whereas your girls are tied to you for their sustenance. Think of us as…intelligent, independent businesswomen.”
The scowl deepened, revealing far more than any words what he thought of such a concept, until a carefully controlled smile replaced it. “I see.”
I very much doubted that. “You see, Sir Kranst, a courtesan is so much more than a passagewalker or whore, as you so delicately put it.” I set down my cup and refilled his so I wouldn’t have to look at him for a few precious seconds. “Do you know when our training begins?”
He nearly snorted a snoot full of tea. “The sex trade isn’t legal below eighteen.”
As if he cared about legalities. I wanted to slap that smirk right off of his face. “Actually a novitiate begins her training at thirteen.”
A brow raised in question as he stirred a dollop of cream in his refreshed tea. “How do you bypass the legal standards concerning the age of consent?”
The stirring of the tea continued and quickened, revealing his deepest desire to learn of a way around the law. Or perhaps more how that information would affect his true business of blackmail.
“We don’t.”
Furious stirring stopped. “Then how…?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” I set the tea service on the low table at my knees and folded my hands across my lap. “A courtesan doesn’t go into actual service until eighteen. But everything I’ve shown your girls thus far is practiced in the Courtesan House for cycles and cycles before that day. We take classes to learn the reasoning behind why we have standards of comportment. We learn all about our history.”
Though not everything, now that I thought about my conversation on Port Flint with Councilor Grode. When and why did the true purpose of the Courtesan Court fall from our taught history?
I continued, “We learn and practice the music you so enjoyed during our time together on my ship. Vocal inflection. We learn about every part of the body and its function. About art. Commerce. We become experts on a wide variety of subjects so that we can engage in intelligent conversation with our clients.”
“This is Lyandra,” he scoffed. “Out here on the Rim our clients aren’t interested in intelligent conversation.”
“Perhaps that’s only because they’ve come to expect nothing more.”
“They’re whores.”
I bristled – and didn’t succeed in keeping it hidden. “Sir Kranst, you have several ladies in your employ who are quick. Who’ve shown an innate intelligence since I first began with them this week. It would behoove you to acknowledge that and allow them to fill their minds with something other than what their expectations are in bed.”
“My clients expect nothing more than to f…” He stopped himself. “Find relief.”
I could almost hear Jace’s favorite word in the slight hesitation before Sir Kranst utilized something less vulgar. But the sentiment was still the same.
Attempting to enlighten the mind of a man like Sir Kranst was an exercise in futility. It was obvious he saw his girls – all women pretty much – as mindless objects.
Which also helped explain yet another reason why he’d targeted Trina. A powerful woman not only threatened control over what he saw as his domain. It threatened his very manhood.
I took a deep and cleansing breath then swept a hand around the room. “And it’s obvious your girls provide your clients just that. Otherwise you wouldn’t have such a lovely home to call your own.”
His gaze followed the sweep of my hand. “Hmm. It’s become rather drab, don’t you think?”
“Well…” I let word hang in the air for emphasis. “There are few things that would have the impact of your elegant foyer.”
“A jewel to rival even the falls on Kardis.” A smug smile lifted his chin. “But perhaps it’s time to repaint and update the rooms though.”
Appealing to his vanity left opportunity poised before me like a wide open door, and his reference to the planet of kings was just the insight needed. “If you gave me a tour, I could provide you with some information on the latest décor.” My insides rebelled as I touched his knee in invitation. “After all, I’ve spent many a night in the royal palace.”
Eyes brightened in interest. “You’ve been allowed in the palace?”
I nodded.
He stood and held out his hand for mine. “Then let’s not delay. I’ve always wanted a showpiece worthy of a palace and would love the opportunity to recreate some of the rooms as closely as possible.”
I rested my hand in his and rose. “I’m delighted to be of service.”
Two faces greeted us the moment the sitting room door opened – and it wasn’t my assigned detail waiting on the other side of the double doors across the foyer.
Avn leaned seductively against the door frame, her red curls tumbling down her back to kiss flared hips. She’d have made a beautiful courtesan – until she opened her mouth.
“So you’re fucking Miss Fancy Pants in here now?”
The smack of hand against flesh as Sir Kranst struck her face echoed through the foyer and shocked me into taking more than a step backward. The older blond servant that stood on the far side of the space grimaced as if she knew such pain well.
“Enough, Avn,” he growled. “Wait for me upstairs.”
Avn lifted her head to reveal blood seeping from a rapidly swelling lip that curled into a wry grin aimed my way. Then she disappeared from the doorway, leaving the servant staring after her before turning a lovesick gaze to Sir Kranst.
“Wait here,” he commanded me before slamming the door in my face.
I nearly wrenched the door open again before stopping. My outstretched hand shook in fear that my guards were so far away and unable to help me after witnessing such rage in close proximity. I wasn’t sure what to expect when the door finally did open again.
My hands also shook in anger over his blatant abuse of one of his girls. Avn may have been a thorn in my side from the moment I walked into the brothel, but no human being deserved such treatment – regardless of station.
But my trembling hand was stayed primarily when I thought of the young girls stashed somewhere in this building. Used so abominably. Treated as less than animals.
I would not leave them to this fate.
Determination raised my chin as the knob twisted. The door opened to reveal the servant instead of a raging proprietor.
“Mistress Dahlia? I’m Salma.” She curtsied as if I were of the nobility. “Sir Kranst will be tied up for a bit and asked me to show you around.”
I breathed an internal sigh of relief. A timid servant would be more easily manipulated into spilling the secrets of a harsh employer – no matter how lovelorn.
We passed quickly through several rooms just off the foyer. A formal dining room Salma explained was used for hosting formal gatherings of friends and various dignitaries. I made a point of following along, pretending to record notes in my digital palm pad.
A trip up the sweeping staircase of gilded balustrades revealed comfortable drawing rooms intended for other forms of entertainment. But I took special note of the hesitation in Salma’s steps as we neared a door about the middle of the rounded balcony. Her hand caressed the handle ever so slightly as we walked by.
I stopped and turned back. “What’s in here?” I grasped the handle but was stopped when it wouldn’t budge.
Salma fluttered her hands along the folds of her simple dress. “Oh, it’s…it’s nothing. This way, please.”
My heart stuttered as I took careful note of exactly how many doorways we’d passed. “But Sir Kranst asked me to give him feedback on all of his rooms.”
My lie widened her eyes in surprise, but it didn’t dissuade her. “It’s just a staircase to the third floor,” she quickly stated. “There’s nothing important to see up there.”
I continued along beside her, but I hadn’t given up. “I can understand keeping ones bedchamber from prying eyes. But I have some excellent ideas for…”
“That’s simply where he keeps his private…collection. His bedchamber is on this floor just around the corner.”
Which an obviously upset and disheveled Avn had just come out of. The redhead glanced up at me before barreling passed. In that split second, I caught the marred makeup highlighted with a swelling eye full of tears that rivaled the blood still oozing from the split lip.
