“I knew it wasn’t working!” she had exclaimed, grasping the wire in one hand and tugging it fiercely when it didn’t so much as shock her. “Why didn’t you tell me, girl?”
“I…I don’t know,” Rissa had faltered.
Lady Mildew had glared at her.
“Have you been touching yourself, you dirty girl? Or letting that horrid robot touch you? Is that why you didn’t tell anyone? Disgusting!”
Rissa had felt her cheeks heating. No matter how often she reminded herself what James had taught her—that her body was her own and she should be allowed to touch it as she chose—the accusation still made her feel guilty and awful.
“I shouldn’t have to wear it anymore,” she’d said, trying to defend herself. “I own my body—I shouldn’t be forced to wear a wire that shocks me!”
Lady Mildew snorted.
“What ridiculous fol-de-rol! You do not own yourself, girl! You’re only waiting until you find a husband—he will own you. In the meantime, having a non-functioning wire is completely unacceptable. It would be ruinous to your reputation if it got out!” She glared at Rissa. “As would that kiss I saw you sharing with that nasty Kindred robot!”
For it was Lady Mildew who had caught them kissing under the trees after the duel. She, along with many other palace people, had come out to the duel grounds to see what all the commotion was about. Rissa didn’t know if she had told the Steward about the kiss or if it was just the scandal surrounding the duel, but either way, the effect was the same—James had been demoted and Lady Mildew had been restored to her former post as Rissa’s Companion.
She had watched Rissa like a hawk that night and the very next day, she’d had her fitted for a new kind of Chastity Device—one which was infinitely worse than the old silver wire she’d been wearing since the age of ten.
This new device fit around her waist like a thick, metal belt and had a silver plate which covered her pussy with only a thin slit in it. But the worst thing about it was the “plug and shield,” as Rissa had heard the two interior parts of the new device called.
The shield was a small metal triangle that fit inside the larger plate. It had stubby spikes on the inside of it that pressed right against her pussy mound and rubbed painfully against her outer lips if she moved the wrong way.
The plug was even worse. It was shaped like a long spear point that fit inside her inner channel. The blades of it—there were four of them—were dull and the tip was blunted, so that it couldn’t actually cut her, but the horrid device made sitting excruciatingly painful and Rissa had to be extremely careful of how she carried herself when she walked or moved in any way. Dancing, of course, was completely out of the question but that didn’t matter as she was currently confined to her rooms.
She had been thus confined for a week, wearing the wretched device, and her tender insides felt bruised and hurt. She cried and begged not to wear the new device, but every night after her bath, Lady Mildew forced it back inside her, saying,
“This is what dirty, disgusting girls who let their guards kiss them get. Stop your whining and take your punishment! Or do you want me to tell the whole Court what I saw?”
Of course, being unable to help herself sexually had a bad effect on Rissa’s Heat Cycle. It was ramping up again and she was once more waking up drenched in sweat and completely miserable. Not that she would have wanted to touch herself while she was in pain, she thought wretchedly. Even if she had been able to squeeze her fingers under the rigid metal of the belt, she couldn’t have reached an orgasm with the cruel plug cutting into her from within.
But worse even than the new Chastity Device was the fact that she hadn’t been allowed to see James for the entire week. She knew—from talking to her maid, Liza—that the big Kindred was always pacing just outside her door. But as he had been demoted to a mere guard, there was no reason or pretext for him to see her—especially since she was being confined, “for her own good,” until a new suitor could be found.
Lady Mildew was her only Companion and she talked about nothing except how Rissa must accept the next suitor, no matter who it was. That and the fact that she was a dirty, disreputable girl and the sooner she was married off, the better.
“I only hope your new husband will even want you, considering the scandal you have attracted to your name,” she often said. “You’ll be lucky if he is willing to slake your Heat at all! He might decide that you are too dirty to want to help you. He might even let you burn to ashes on your wedding night rather than come anywhere near you! I shouldn’t blame him a bit if he did.”
Rissa felt that would be fine with her. She didn’t want anyone but James to slake her Heat, which, after studying the Royal anatomy book with him, she now knew could only be done by letting a male enter her with his shaft and shoot his seed into her pussy. She thought often that she would rather burn to death than let any man but her Kindred guard do that to her.
But it seemed that was never to be. How could James help her if he could never see her again?
It was at her lowest point, when she was thinking these thoughts, that Lady Mildew suddenly came into her room and told her to get up.
“You are summoned to the Throne Room,” she told Rissa. She made a face. “And that horrid Kindred is to come, too.”
“James is coming too?” Rissa’s heart started pounding in her chest. “Pray, Lady Mildew, what is all this about?”
“You shall see, my dear.” Lady Mildew got a very unpleasant look in her faded blue eyes. “I believe that his Stewardship has a surprise for you.”
41
“I am too old for this,” the Steward complained, shifting on the black velvet cushion as though the hard golden throne beneath it hurt his bones. He let out a burst of flatulence which made the page boys giggle until he glared at them.
“I am sorry you feel that way, Your Stewardship,” Rissa said politely. Her heart was pounding in her throat as she waited for the man she thought of as her Uncle to get to the point. “The crown must be a heavy burden to bear and I thank you for bearing it for me all these years,” she added.
“Yes, yes…heavy indeed. And you have not made it any easier, my girl,” he added, frowning down at her. “Trying to find a suitor you are not too picky to accept has nearly plagued the life out of me!” He shook his head. “Well, I am done with making that mistake. I have found you the man you are going to marry.”
“What?” exclaimed Rissa, before she could stop herself. “How can you say that, Uncle?” she demanded, forgetting to be formal. “When I have not even met him yet? A Royal female has the Right of Refusal, you know!”
“Only for the first three suitors proposed to her.” The Steward glared at her. “And you have had your three refusals, my girl. Now, before you go getting upset,” he continued, leaning forward and using a more soothing tone. “I believe this man is perfect for you. He is from the Second Court on the other side of the planet but he has the blood of the Very First Family running through his veins. Also, he is no more than five years your senior, I believe, which ought to make you happy. And, I am told by the maids who attend me in my rooms that he is exceedingly handsome. So, there. If that does not make you happy, I do not know what will!” He leaned back on the throne, a self-satisfied look coming over his jowly face.
Rissa shot a swift glance at James, who was standing beside and a little behind her. She knew very well that the only thing that would make her happy was the big Kindred who had been sent to guard her. But it seemed their chance at happiness together was slipping away.
“Uncle,” she said tentatively. “I, er, thank you kindly for taking so much trouble to find me a new suitor, but why must a Royal female marry a man with Royal blood at all?”
“What? Whatever do you mean?” the Steward blustered, frowning. “Of course you must marry a man with Royal blood in his veins!”
“I know it is not because only a man with Royal blood may slake my Heat,” Rissa said boldly, which caused a gasp from Lady Mild
ew, who was standing on her other side. “Well?” she demanded. “Why should I not say it? It is true, you know. One of my ancestors, Queen Lenore the Headstrong, married her gardener and made him her Royal Consort. So why must I have a husband with Royal blood in his veins?”
“Because I say you must!” the Steward blustered. He squinted balefully at Rissa. “And I’ll hear no more about the idea of you marrying a mere commoner! I have not held this throne for your Royal father all these years only to see his only child marry beneath her! Now, you shall meet your new suitor—soon to be your husband—tonight at the ball we are holding in his honor. And tomorrow, you shall marry him.”
“Does the Princess have no say in her own fate at all, then?” James asked, speaking up at last. “She is going to be the Queen of your entire planet, why may she not choose her own mate?”
The Steward squinted at James menacingly.
“Because she is a young, flighty female with no sense in her head,” he barked. “Her Royal father left me in charge and I will be damned, Sir, if I allow her to make a less than advantageous match!”
“You haven’t appeared very interested in making her a good match before now,” James pointed out, his eyes flashing. “You tried to marry her off to a young boy, an old man, and a scoundrel with no honor! Since your own judgment has been so obviously lacking in this matter, perhaps you had better let the Princess decide who she wants to Join with herself.”
The Steward grew red in the face.
“How dare you, Sir!” he demanded. “Are you questioning my judgment?”
“I think I’ve made it clear that I am,” James said coolly.
For a moment, the Steward looked ready to explode.
“You, Sir, are dismissed,” he told James. “You can go back to Commander Sylvan and tell him I said we have no need of your services anymore.”
“I am not leaving,” James growled. “I was sent here to protect the Princess and that is what I plan to do! There is still an assassin out there looking for her. What about the attempt on her life that prompted you to call for a guard like me in the first place?”
“As it happens, that threat has been neutralized.” The Steward waved his hand airily. “The man who planned the earlier attack turned out to be a malcontent—a commoner with the ridiculous idea of getting rid of the Monarchy. He was caught and hanged earlier this week.”
“He was?” Rissa shook her head. “But…why was I not told?”
“Because you did not need to know,” Lady Mildew snapped, frowning at her. “You do not need to know anything, girl, except to do as you are told!”
“For once, I agree with Lady Mildew,” the Steward snapped. “You shall meet your new suitor tonight at the ball. And tomorrow, you will marry him. Oh, and his name is Lord Shammington,” he added. “Now go—it is time for my nap and this ridiculous business tires me.”
“I am not leaving,” James said again, as the page boys helped the Steward up from the throne. “I was told to make certain the Princess is safe until she gets married and that is what I intend to do.”
“Very well,” the Steward grunted, frowning at him. “You can stay, Sir Robot, despite your deplorable manners, but only until the wedding. After that, you must be off the planet at once or I shall call Commander Sylvan and demand that he remove you himself! Am I understood?”
“You are, Sir.” James nodded coldly.
Rissa’s heart sank. Was this really the end? James had admitted that he loved her—could he truly give her up so easily? But then again, what could he do—what could either of them do? It was true that he had only come to guard her and since the Steward was in charge, it was clear she wouldn’t be allowed to marry outside her class—let alone outside her race and species.
I don’t want to be the Queen if it means not getting to marry James! she thought, feeling sick. But she was stuck—it wasn’t like she could stop being a Royal Princess who was the sole heir to the Throne of Regalia Five just by wishing it.
“Come, girl.” Lady Mildew took her by the arm, interrupting her thoughts. “Back to your rooms. We must find something for you to wear tonight when you meet your future husband.”
Rissa cast a last, longing look at the big Kindred. James looked back and for a moment, she thought she saw desperate unhappiness in his metallic blue eyes.
“James…” she whispered, but he only shook his head, his face going stoic and cold again. Clearly, his hands were tied and there was nothing either of them could do about the situation.
Eyes, stinging with tears, Rissa allowed herself to be led away by Lady Mildew.
What else could she do?
42
James watched her go, feeling heartsick. At least, he thought that was the emotion he was experiencing. It was a tightness in his throat and a burning in his eyes coupled with the strong desire to punch something repeatedly.
He couldn’t forget the look in Ka’rissa’s eyes as she was led away or the soft feel of her lips pressed to his after the duel. Nor could he forget her words, “I love you!”
And I told her I loved her too, yet I’m standing here, watching her walk away, he thought. But what else could he do? Commander Sylvan had sent him here only to guard the Princess—not to fall in love with her or to let her fall in love with him. If he tried to act on their mutual love, it would very probably cause an incident that would reflect badly on the Kindred and even ruin relations between his people and the Regalians.
It was a conundrum James had never had to face before—a messy, emotional problem he should never have gotten into in the first place. And yet, how could he help himself? He had started having emotions for Ka’rissa so gradually he hadn’t even realized what was happening until he was already in the middle of the mess he currently found himself in.
That’s not true, a guilty little voice whispered in his head. You know that you were already having emotions before you left the Mother Ship. You know you should have gotten your emotion damper fixed before you came here in the first place. But no—you were having too much fun trying new foods and exotic new experiences. This is why the Collective outlawed emotions on Zeaga Four in the first place—they always lead to trouble!
No, there was nothing he could do to help Rissa except to stay and guard her until her wedding was over, James admitted to himself. But could he really stand by and watch her get Joined to another male?
He just didn’t know.
43
“Good evening, Princess. You look even more radiantly beautiful in person than you do in your pictures.” Lord Shammington bowed gracefully over Rissa’s hand and gave her a gleaming smile. “Would you favor me with a dance?”
Dutifully, Rissa bowed and smiled and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor.
On the outside, her new suitor truly did seem perfect, she admitted to herself as they spun about the room. He had a handsome face, a gleaming, youthful smile, thick, dark hair, and a trim, athletic figure. He also had the pearly Sheen to his skin which announced that he had Royal blood in his veins.
The only negative things Rissa could find about her new suitor—other than the fact that he was not James—was that he was a bit short and that he wore rather a lot of some very strong, spicy cologne. But she was short herself, so his height didn’t really matter and she supposed that sooner or later the scent would fade.
If the Steward had chosen him as her suitor before she met James, she would probably have fallen in love with him.
But as it was, Rissa found she couldn’t get over her longing for the big Kindred, who stood at the side of the room and watched as she danced with her soon-to-be husband. Her eyes kept returning to him again and again and her answers to Lord Shammington’s polite questions about her life were vague and distracted.
Her apparent lack of interest didn’t appear to bother her new suitor at all, however. He kept chatting away happily as he spun her around and around the ballroom, claiming her for dance after dance so that no other partner even had a chan
ce.
The only good thing, as far as Rissa could see, was that Lady Mildew had consented to let her take off the awful new Chastity Device so that she was able to dance.
“But it’s going right back in tonight after your bath,” she’d said, glaring warningly at Rissa. “And I’ll give the key remote only to your new husband. So don’t get any ideas about running away with that Kindred guard, girl—he wouldn’t be able to get to you even if he tried!”
So for one evening only, she was free of the shield that rubbed so painfully against her outer mons and the plug which dug into her tender inner channel. Rissa couldn’t help wondering how in the world she could bear to let her new husband slake her Heat after wearing the awful device all through the lengthy wedding ceremony. Even now, with the plug out of her, she felt so raw inside that dancing gracefully was an effort. She supposed she would just have to bear it.
But no—she could not stand to think of doing such intimate things with the man who was holding her in his arms. She wanted only James to make love to her and slake her Heat! The thought of letting the powdered and perfumed dandy who was spinning her around the ballroom do that to her made Rissa cringe inside.
At that moment, the dance ended and she hoped, briefly, that he might let her dance with someone else. Perhaps even James…
“We must dance the next together as well,” Lord Shammington said, interrupting her thoughts as they waited for the music to begin again. “I want you entirely to myself, so we can get to know each other,” he added, smiling brightly with his gleaming white teeth. “After all, we shall be spending the rest of our lives together, shall we not?”
“I suppose,” Rissa said and made herself smile politely, though she felt sure the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “It is…quite a long time,” she added. “The rest of our lives, I mean.”
“Indeed! Though it is longer for some than others. Which is why it is so very important to get to know each other as soon as possible,” Lord Shammington returned brightly. “So tell me, Princess—what is your favorite color?”
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