The guard nodded to her. “Princess. I was told to expect a tutor. This is he.”
“A tutor?”
“I’m Dr. Seth Bander, an advisor to your minister for trade and foreign affairs, Your Highness.” The man was gray-bearded and did look scholarly with his neat but battered gray suit and the books and folders in his hands. “Your, ahh, crown advisor? Drake Gessfangen? He told me I was to teach you what I know of government.” A folded paper slipped from his overloaded hands. “That’s a note from him.”
“Oh.” She scooped it up and quickly read the note. Drake had definitely decided she needed educating. He’d stamped his seal on it and added a humorous comment about not wanting her to be ignorant forever.
Off balance, she stepped aside to allow the tutor to go past her.
Ignorant? Her lips twitched into a smile. How dare he. And how typical. Insufferable man. A glow warmed her chest.
And so she sat for a few hours and was educated. It was both interesting and tedious.
Drake came home to her rooms that night, pinned her to the hallway wall and kissed her.
“Did you like my present?”
“Umm.” She thought of saying something to provoke him, teetering on the edge of being bratty, as he termed it.
“You’d better like him because I have more coming. Say you want to learn about governing this kingdom or I will have to bend you over the sofa and fuck you senseless.” He kissed her again, a long drawn-out kiss that melted her inside.
She massaged his chest with her fingers, kissed him there over the buttons, because she couldn’t help herself. “I like it, but you can still bend me over something.”
“Hah!”
And so a procession of tutors arrived. She had no delusions that Drake would give up power to her, it was not his way, but to allow her to be with him on the throne as more than an arm decoration? Yes.
What with the disturbing violence at the edges of the kingdom, Drake coming and going, the dread that another note would come from Roarke, and the tutors hammering knowledge into her about government this and that, she was exhausted.
And so, when she read an entry in her father’s memoir, volume two, written on the day of her fifth birthday, the world seemed to crack.
She read it again, closed the memoir, and walked out onto her shielded balcony. Her stomach had more critters fluttering about in it than a zoo. She put her hand there.
That day was the birthday when Sassi had been given to her. Sassi was not what she’d always thought he was. The bot had followed her out onto the balcony, as he often did.
This could be proved easily, according to the memoir. The note left by her father had given instructions but had also said not to do what she intended to do unless absolutely necessary.
It was necessary.
Dire times were coming, or her head was screwed on backwards.
“Face me, Sassi.”
The bot turned, eye stalks bouncing a little. With his boxlike head and rectangular body, Sassi looked plain ugly and docile.
She needed something like a screwdriver. A butter knife from breakfast sat on a plate on the table.
Calli picked it up, eyed the slots to either side of where SASSI was written on the bot’s chest, then pressed both slots with the end of the knife and said, “Protocol three five nine.”
Metal slid away to either side of the letters, revealing a much longer word.
Assassination Bot.
“It’s true.” She took a half-step backward then bent to study the label. “Wow.”
The text showing beneath that big label was ominous. Not to be used for unauthorized non-military purposes.
“Oh, ohhh. You naughty thing, Sassi.” She straightened. “Initiate Protocol Calli five zero.”
Sassi’s eyes on stalks were sucked into the head and new eyes emerged from the metal, like a frog creature from a pool of water. They glowed a bright red. It was, Calli decided, alarming.
“I must warn you this is not to be done without due consideration of consequences.”
“Such as?” she said absentmindedly, preoccupied by those new eyes.
“Uhhh. That has been lost from memory to some degree. People dying is my best guess.”
She chuckled. Not a laughing matter but still. On the other hand, was Sassi functional?
Frowning, she asked, “Is the rest of you working okay?”
“I can run a scan of my processes, memory, and structure once fully activated, Princess.”
“Good. Activate then. Report back if you detect any faults.”
“I shall. Who do I terminate?”
“Oh! No one, yet. Please. Just be my guard.”
“You must name those of highest priority if I need to get lethal. If not, I will tend to kill everyone except you, if it’s necessary to keep you safe.”
Everyone?
Her heart jolted. “Fuck! Drake! Myself.” This was harder than she thought. “We are highest. Always. Let me think on the others.”
“Absolutely. I’ll assume fuck is not a person’s name? Good. I’ll go arm myself better and... do those scans.”
That sounded a bit vague for an assassination bot. Arm himself with what?
Her father had given her Sassi and meant him to be a backup if ever the situation required it. Well, her brother was out there, maybe, probably, and people were now rebelling against what she’d thought was already her successful rebellion. That might be connected.
She needed a deadly bot. If nothing else, it made her feel safer and as if she were protecting Drake despite her secrets. If only Sassi wasn’t making her wonder about the reliability of his old mechanisms.
“Report back on the scans, Sassi!”
“Affirmative!” the bot yelled from the hallway. “Gotcha!”
“Hmmm.” Maybe activating Sassi fully had triggered a personality upgrade and that was the reason for the odd dialogue?
The scans came back as normal, apart from some minor memory losses. Now she had a butler bot that could kill. Her tutors were lucky she rarely lost her temper. The tutor on sewerage and infrastructure was absolutely boring. Though Sassi seemed to lose efficiency with the butlering, the pluses outweighed the minuses. Objects were going missing but what were a few pieces of misplaced silverware versus security?
Another week passed and there were no more notes from Roarke. She found herself hoping he’d died. Which was surely awful?
It was a relief the day Drake told her the mauleon meeting was imminent.
Imminent, she discovered, meant that very night.
Then, another letter arrived on the hallway shelving.
Chapter Nineteen
Her hand shook as she picked up the envelope and tore it open. The royal header was on the letter and had the same wobbly writing. She stopped reading after the words Meet me and shoved it back into the envelope, tucked down the torn edges.
She needed advice and there was one possibility only.
“Sassi!”
“Yes?”
The bot ambled from the linen cupboard. The bright red eyes startled her again. Eye stalks had been so much friendlier.
“Umm.” She shook her head. “Were you programmed to assess complex threats?”
“Of course.”
“Well.” She waggled the envelope. “I’m going to give you a summary of what has happened. And you tell me if I’m wrong to give this to Drake.”
After a moment to run through the facts in her mind, she rattled them off, ending with the words she’d just read.
Sassi stood still for only a few seconds, then raised his eyes and locked onto her face. “You need to tell Drake. I don’t have the facts to determine who this originates from but it’s unlikely it is your brother. And likely to be an enemy.”
“Oh. Good.” Sort of. Her stomach sank. “I will do that then. It was my inclination. I just wanted a second opinion.”
This had close to destroyed her hopes but knowing she was giving it to Drake, what did that d
o?
It made her feel better, instantly. To not read it and give it to him said she trusted Drake and she desperately wanted to win back that trust, even if he didn’t know he’d lost it.
“I have other deductions also, Princess—”
“I have presents for you!” Drake sang out, turning to nod to the guards as they shut the door. “To wear to the ceremony.”
“Hide this!” She pushed the envelope at Sassi and the bot secreted it in a compartment on his body.
The door closed and Drake advanced down the hallway, grinning, shaking a package.
She’d not seen him smile that openly for weeks.
“Wonderful! I think?” The letter could wait, couldn’t it?
As he often did when people were talking to each other, Sassi withdrew quietly.
There was a serious discussion coming after she gave the letter to him, no matter what. It would ruin this night, and he’d been planning for so long. No matter how much revealing her brother’s survival worried her, she had also betrayed Drake.
So, she would let this night run its course, even if whatever was going to happen at the meeting slash ceremony had her nervous also.
“Come. Dress for me.”
“It’s pretty? Elegant?”
“Hmmm, anything on you is pretty. Elegant? Try it on.”
When she shook it out and held it up, she was dubious. After dressing, she was horrified. He’d said no underclothes and without those...
“I can’t wear this in public!”
“You will have a cloak to wear in the coach.” The grin was back. Drake chuckled. “There are matching silver and satin shoes. You will be adorable and fuckable, which is the whole point.”
Calli wrinkled her forehead then sighed, turning to examine the translucent white dress from all angles in the standing mirror in her bedroom. Small white cloth-covered buttons ran down the front. The line of embroidery beneath her breasts made those and her areolae exceptionally obvious. Her nipples stood up even more as she turned, though that was partly the effect of Drake watching her.
“Also this, Princess.” He stepped up to her and held her still a moment by capturing both her breasts through the fabric in his hands. Something tinkled and bumped against her belly.
He brought his hands to her neck, kissed her softly. From one hand dangled a silver chain-mesh necklace a little wider than her thumbnail and beautifully made. The links were soft and perfect, shining as he circled her neck with the necklace and closed a clasp. She heard a small click.
“I will lock this with a key at the meeting and add a certain decoration to it. This is a collar, a symbol of ownership. You must never take it off after that, without my permission.” He nudged up her chin and looked into her eyes.
She nodded, her throat tightening. “I won’t.” The delicate brush of the fabric on her nipples was making it difficult to remain calm.
“Good. Then let us leave. Wait. The shoes must go on and I will fetch the cloak.” He went to one knee and slid the shoes onto her feet, lifting each foot to do so. She steadied herself with a hand to his shoulder. Already this night felt like a dedication to their love for each other.
Love was a hard word to tangle with when the letter lay steaming with deceit inside Sassi.
They passed the shelf where the letter had been on the way out. Her cloak whispered against the timber. Drake’s warm hand enveloped hers.
She bit her lip. I will fix this. I will. Just a few hours more.
Earlier that day, there’d been news of more raids and Drake had sent away a large strike force.
“Could my bot, Sassi, come? He has defense skills and I’d feel safer.”
“Of course your bot can come. It’ll have to sit beside the gunner position on the coach’s exterior.”
She called and Sassi emerged. “Follow us, Sassi.”
“Yes, Princess.”
“Has your bot changed?”
“Yes. New eyes and other things. I will tell you it all after this ceremony.” There, she’d set a date for her confession. Eeep.
He clicked his fingers. “I knew it. There were eye stalks before.”
“Yes. Remind me if I forget to tell you.”
Did her voice tremble? Drake sent her an odd glance.
The coach rattled through the streets flanked by cavalry, but less men than usual. Down to the lower city they went and for once she felt safer here than in the upper city. Mauleons were not Drake’s enemy. Humans with hostile intentions would never dare invade here.
He helped her from the coach when it halted and before her loomed a wide stone building, several stories high. Only a carved oval feature above the entry, with an inscription in archaic mauleon language, hinted at something unusual.
“What does that say?” she asked softly as they walked up the stairs to the entry. “Abandon hope all ye who enter?”
“Close.” Drake’s lips twitched. “Once we get through the next door you’re to halt while I make adjustments to your clothing, and to you.”
Clutching her silver cloak to her body, she regarded him from the corner of her eyes. So mysterious, and she’d bet he’d done that deliberately.
“Are you trying to frighten me?”
“Of course.” His dark eyebrows waggled. “It makes your nipples go all erect.”
“Shhh!” Alarmed the guards behind them might hear, she decided to be silent until they passed through the next set of enameled black doors.
Past those was a small foyer with an attendant ready to hang their coat and cloak. Beyond, a room opened out. A table with twenty or so chairs ran the length of the room, from left to right, where three shallow steps climbed to a dais. Most of the chairs were occupied by mauleons. A few were watching her and Drake’s entrance. On the dais, light gray cloth draped over a square—Was that a bed?
Oh, no. Not for them, surely?
“Queen-to-be Calliope?” The female mauleon had her hand out. Clearly, she waited for the cloak.
Though reluctant to expose herself, Calli took a breath then allowed Drake to pull the cloak from her. The attendants here wore blue uniforms. The guests seemed to be in more somber colors. Drake was in black and gray. Other couples sat or stood and chatted. None wore anything quite as revealing as her dress.
“Are you sure I should be dressed like this?” She gestured at the dress.
“You will be fine in this.” He took her arm and walked her a few steps forward where a large golden pillow waited on the floor. “Kneel here. We are the guests of honor, my princess. Though the ceremony is normal for when a high mauleon takes a new mate, tonight is especially significant. The mauleons worry that I subjugate myself to you by not declaring myself king. For the sake of peace, I hold back from that.” He waited, looking at her. “Think.”
Kneel?
This night she must give herself to him. She was declaring to his people that she held the lesser power in the relationship. Well then. The Dywins were arrogant, he’d once said.
She’d done this before, just not before others.
With a steadying mantra, Calli drew serenity upon herself and kneeled. Then she looked to Drake.
The room quietened and all turned to watch the spectacle. Though she rather hoped spectacle was the wrong word.
Drake raised his hands at his sides, palm uppermost. “I thank you for coming to this union of I, Drake Gessfangen and Queen-to-be Calliope Dywin.”
The crowd cheered though it seemed a weak and almost expectant cheer, as if more was to come.
When Drake turned to her, she steeled herself.
“Do not fear, my love.”
It was the first time he’d called her that and she’d swear a wave of awe spilled through her at his words. He kissed her forehead.
“Undo your dress and bare your breasts for me. You will like this.” He winked. “Apart from the mild embarrassment.”
Mild? In front of these strangers? Nevertheless, at his warm encouragement, she undid each tiny button. With he
r teeth lodged in her lower lip, trembling, she watched as he gently scooped her breasts from where they hid.
“These are what we call our love bites.”
On his palm was a heap of small silver items. Jewelry or pendants, she thought at first. Each represented an animal and she spotted fluffy tails, fangs, horns, and little creatures with paws or hooves. Each of these had a short chain that attached to a set of jaws with a spring-laden hinge. They were designed to open like a paper holder with blunt short teeth.
“For?” she ventured.
“Decorating you.” His wink was mischievous, and she’d come to know his mischief well. “Sit up straight for me.” His hand was beneath her breast, pushing it upward, while he tucked most of the other ornaments into a pocket.
As if she wasn’t straight. As his hand neared her with one of the creature ornaments, she braced herself. It would hurt, but from experience with his teeth, these would cause other sensations—once she let the pain settle.
At the bite below her nipple, she squeaked, though she held the noise in, aware of how the mauleons were riveted to this show Drake made of her.
She was an exhibit, a demonstration of his dominance over his princess. Then she gave a muffled yelp as her other nipple was treated to a near-miss bite.
An exhibit of Drake’s dominance over her, yes, but she was also a pleasure exhibit, a sexual prize. Lust seethed in the eyes of the watchers.
It dismayed her how much she enjoyed this voyeurism. Had Drake corrupted her?
Perhaps.
Life was for living—she knew this now. Before Drake she was a nobody, a nothing girl, in spite of her Dywin genetics.
“You liked that,” he said softly, before helping her to her feet. “Say yes.”
They walked toward the right-hand, top two chairs at the table’s end, below the dais.
“Mmm,” she murmured, a little breathless. “I did, yes. Before you, I was never this—”
“Bad? Naughty? Insatiable?” He paused to pull out a chair for her, the slightly lower one of the two. “Fuckable?”
Calli blushed instantly. She felt the heat as she sat. Her next tutor would be an expert in how not to blush.
Before she saw his intent, he’d leaned in and kissed where the ornaments swung below her nipples. She shut her eyes, shuddering. The spiky stubble of his jaw brushing her breast, the wet tongue, his lips over her. She almost moaned and had to drag herself back to the reality of the room.
Ruled: A Dark Sci-Fi Romance Page 10