All of this swam through her mind in a ceaseless stream as she was led by a cadre of guards through the grand halls of Blossom Palace, the emperor’s most favored of his seven residences. The astounding opulence of just the corridors would take one’s breath away. She could still remember playing in these halls, running the maze-like lengths day after day … her rich little gowns inlaid with Delran platinum, her bed so big and soft she had needed help getting in and out of it and she could lay all six of her attendants on either side of herself comfortably.
Now, her bed was narrow and serviceable, the sheets a bit worn in places. She had only two personal attendants (one of which was, she believed, her father’s spy) and a household totaling four, when the maid and cook were taken into account. Her gown was threadbare at the seams, her father having neglected her household stipend, and when he did remember to pay her servants, there was nothing left over for new clothes. She balanced the books herself since, years earlier, she had been forced to let her secretary go. As it stood, her servants stayed on because of their love of her, because they certainly did not stay for the value of the living she could provide.
Still, it was a damn sight better than the cold, bleak dampness of the emperor’s prisons.
The fact of the matter was, she was the emperor’s daughter whether he wanted to acknowledge that or not. The blood in her veins meant his enemies could use her to stage a coup. So, he had to control her and keep her close enough to keep an eye on her. At least, she believed, until he could contrive of a way to be rid of her like he had done with her mother.
Now she was twenty-five cycles old and more than adult enough to be a threat to her decade younger brother and heir apparent. She was also old enough now to be executed without making her father look too much like the monster he was. Truthfully, she had been living in anticipation of this day ever since her last incarceration. The day when she would be called into his presence for the last time.
* * *
They reached the presence chamber and the guards before her threw open the doors. She had expected to see him at the end of the bamboo runner that led through a sea of courtiers and ended at the foot of the throne where he was usually sitting in much state and pompousness. But the throne lay empty and there was an eerie quietude among the courtiers. Her chin rose proudly as she realized all eyes were upon her. She might be terrified of what the emperor had in store for her, but she would be damned if she would let anyone else see that. No matter what he decreed, as far as she was concerned she was the heir to his throne. She had lawfully been his firstborn child. The law of their land demanded she be his heiress. She did not recognize the laws he had hastily passed in order to put her aside.
But neither would she raise a hand against her innocent half-blood sibling. She knew there were factions willing and able to overthrow the young prince if she so much as nodded in their direction, but she would not exile another to the fate she had been exiled to.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Prelate Kitsos step to the edge of the runner as she was being hurried past the roomful of prelates and paxsors. He tried to catch her eye, his look full of some kind of meaning and intent. She remained staring full ahead, not wanting in any way to be associated with the man’s plots and plans. He was too obvious in his avarice. He would be the death of them both if he were not more careful.
Now her heart was lodged firmly in her throat, although it seemed to beat twice as fast. She was led past her father’s throne and into his private visitation chamber. The difference in the brightness from one room to the next was shocking, and she was nearly blind in the sudden darkness. She clutched the prayer book she held between her hands, hoping the Great Being was watching over her. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness she was grabbed roughly around each of her arms and shoved hastily forward. She tripped over the skirt of her gown, making her fall to her knees in an obesience she did not truly feel, may the universe forgive her for her angry heart.
She was now kneeling at the feet of the man who had tormented her throughout her life in one way or another. She would have bowed to him on her own power, but she would never have groveled before him. She clenched her teeth in anger, forcing her countenance to remain cool and serene. She could not afford to be prideful. She could not risk any show of backbone in front of an emperor who had no compunctions about killing off anyone who ticked him off.
Silence ticked by, the only sound in her ears was the rasp of her own breathing. She kept her eyes trained on the bamboo runner that ran through this room as well. The woven, decorative mats were used to protect flooring and, in this instance, hand-malleayed carpeting. Artisans created malleay rugs on great looms, working teams of people in some sort of concert of creativity. She had not seen one of the rich creations in completion since childhood, and even now the mat thwarted her. True, the bamboo was cleverly wrought, colorful threads and Delran platinum decorating the plain tan fibers and creating something quite spectacular, but she would much rather see the rug.
Far more than she wished to see her father just then. Even now all she could see of him was his slippered feet.
“Sister.”
The pubescent voice startled her, as did the address, and she forgot herself and looked up. Instead of her father, she found herself at the feet of a brother she only knew from images in VidMags and other media. He was tall and gangly, all sharp joints and a physical awkwardness that rolled off him even though all he was doing was standing still. But he also had that imperious air and confidence of a prince born and raised. The luxurious cloth-of-platinum robes he wore were robes of state and, though they seemed to weigh heavily on his narrow frame, he wore them perfectly straight and with the exactness of someone used to such finery.
“My good brother,” she said, inclining her head again. “I am honored to meet you at last.”
“Are you?” he questioned her. “Or are you as much a traitoress as your mother was? Now that our father is dead, will you drive a knife in my back at the first opportunity?”
“Our father is dead?”
“He will be long remembered,” everyone in the room said solemnly, the ritual confirming the fact.
The shock was so tremendous, so unexpected, that she forgot she was not allowed to acknowledge the emperor as her father. There was also such a shocking release within her psyche, the relief of almost a decade’s worth of stress and tension, that she immediately felt lightheaded. Blackness rode over her, forcing her to drop her prayer book and brace her hands out on the floor. She fought off the faint that was tugging at her and used her seemingly obeisant position to touch her forehead to her brother’s slipper.
“My great lord and emperor,” she said, “I am so utterly sorry for your loss.”
“So, you acknowledge me to be our father’s heir?” He was clearly fishing and she had learned to tread carefully around such dangling worms.
“I have always done so, Your Eminence. Is it not so decreed? I am the fruit of a treacherous woman who conspired to murder our lord and master, the late emperor. Her shame is my shame. I do not deserve to be heir or empress.”
“Then you will not mind signing this document to that effect.”
Her brother’s hand swept out to the left and she raised her eyes to see a secretary reach down with a carefully drawn up document, its gilt edges brightly obscene as she quickly read the contents.
I, Ambrea Vas Allay, do swear from this day forward, that I renounce my blood and any connection to the Allay throne. Thus, I will now be known only as Ambrea Vas, a commoner and subject of this realm. I sign this of my own free will with both signature and retinal scan to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that these are my wishes and desires. Any attempts on my part to take the Allay throne, from this day forward, will be considered an act of high treason and will result in the immediate forfeiture of my life.
Ambrea Vas.
Ambrea, it meant … “daughter.” Ambrea Vas Allay meant “daughter of this realm.” In all these years, her fathe
r, though he had alienated her and stripped her of her rightful place in the succession, had never taken this step, stripping her of her name. She had always wondered why. Perhaps there had been some part of the former emperor that had been, after all, loath to deprive himself of his spare heir while his only living son was still young and susceptible to the many illnesses and dangers of youth. Perhaps he had not, in the end, wanted to leave her without any claim to anyone. But clearly her brother had no such reservations.
To sign such a document would mean she could never, even in the event of her brother’s death, lay claim to the throne. She would be cut loose. Set free. She could then do anything. Go anywhere. Her brother would be renouncing all ability to hold power over what she did or where she went, except that of a sovereign over his subject. He would no longer be responsible for her upkeep. She would, in essence, be her own woman.
The rush of the idea was a heady one. The thought of it, of being able to walk away, perhaps leave the planet altogether, where she could explore any part of the three worlds, it was remarkable. She could hear her blood rushing against her eardrums. She was a signature and a scan away from turning her back on this stifling existence forever.
Except …
“I beg you to forgive my hesitation, Your Eminence,” she said quickly, not wishing to anger him, knowing nothing of his temperament that she didn’t see in the media. But all hints thus far had pointed to a spoiled, rich, and powerful youth who was used to getting his way, just like his father had been. “I am merely in shock at the news of the emperor’s death.”
“He will be long remembered,” her brother’s attendants chorused respectfully. But there was a decided lack of enthusiasm in their voices. The fact was, Emperor Benit had been a tyrant, and these attendants that were now flocked at her brother’s back had been the previous emperor’s attendants and advisors. When Emperor Benit had raged, which he had often done, these were the people that had borne the brunt of it. Now they were eagerly supporting a child they probably felt would be far more malleable than his father had been. There was power to be found by being the advisor to the boy sovereign. These vultures would be clawing at one another for the best position.
“He had been ill for some time,” her brother faltered.
There was emotion there. Genuine emotion. Despite how he was portrayed in the media, young Emperor Qua Tsu Allay had feelings. And now his insecurities were also showing. Suddenly those robes of state looked far too big for the boy.
If you love Jacquelyn Frank’s sensual
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Kane burned. His mind, his every sense, but most of all his body burned with need and lust unlike anything he had ever felt before. The Samhain moon was growing heavy and full, it would be at its apex in a matter of days, but it may as well have been scorching its full influence into him in that very instant, that was how ravaged by it he was feeling.
Or maybe it was just because of her.
He’d followed her for three days now, stalking her every step since the moment he’d first laid eyes on her, either in person or with the power of his mind. He was Demon, a creature born perfectly into the night, born with powers beyond human understanding. Every Demon favored a specific element: Air, Fire, Water, Earth, Body, or, as in his case, Mind. He was powerful, capable of great feats … and yet always weaker than other Demons around him. They called him fledgling. A child. A nearly hundred-year-old child. He was a mere two years from earning a little more respect. Then he would be adult. Not quite the heavily respected Elder that his brother was, nowhere near the astounding Ancient that Gideon was, but it would be better than that accursed title of fledgling.
But however much or little his contemporary Demons thought of him, this young female, this human, had lived for barely a quarter of his lifetime. She was ignorant of so much, ignorant of his kind and the other Nightwalkers that lived on the borders of her world. Maybe that was why she was so incessantly carefree in the way she lived her life. Granted, she was marred with emotional scars that others had so thoughtlessly burdened her with, but in spite of that she still managed to be vivacious and earthy, as vibrant as her brilliant red hair and sparkling green eyes. As clean and clear as her pristine pale skin.
Someone else had taken notice of her brilliance. He was unworthy. Even she thought so. The inept creature had bored her almost from the outset, and yet she carried on their date trying to find comfort in his plainness and his constancy. Kane had been tracking this absurdity from a distance, pacing furiously as the ridiculousness of it all burned at his patience. But there was little he could do about it. She was human and to him she was forbidden. By all rights he should have turned his back on her days ago. He should have written her off completely. Keeping track of her, whether from near or from far, would only lead to trouble.
That trouble had come. It had come in the guise of this overwhelming burn, this savage sense of lust and ownership that could not be denied. He couldn’t bear her being on that useless creature’s arm another second. Now he was flying to her side in a series of raging, uncontrolled bursts of teleportation, each jump taking him closer to her and each jump leaving behind an ever more violent burst of smoke and sulfur in his wake. His emotions were out of his control and therefore his powers were also out of his control. But none of that mattered. He was close. Closer. Soon he would put this fiasco to an end and he would rip her from the side of this clown she was trying to make worthy of her.
He materialized on the seedy New York street in a violent flash, only his power to influence the minds of others camouflaging the frightening display from those nearby. His beauteous redhead and her so-called date walked on completely oblivious to his presence.
He stalked after them quickly, his eyes tracking all the shadowy corners and alleys of their location. His distaste for her escort trebled. What male worth anything would bring a woman to a place such as this? Didn’t the fool realize the dangers all around them? Did that weak excuse for a human male honestly think himself capable of protecting her should danger present itself?
In truth, the thought wasn’t even in his mind, Kane realized as he gave them both a backhanded scan. The shocking fact was, he was barely even focused on the treasure walking by his side! All of this fool’s thoughts were eagerly pointed toward the film they were going to see. Apparently its special effects and coveted director warranted more attention that the one of a kind sultry creature on his arm.
Disgusted, Kane seized control of both of their minds at once. They stopped still for a moment and then Kane shaded out any awareness and recollection of her from the human male’s mind and sent him on his way to the moving picture that seemed to mean so much to him.
And now he was alone with her. Mere steps away. It was child’s play for him to beckon her to him, to bring her to him as a willing, compliant thing. Oh, but that was not what he wanted. He wouldn’t take her as a mind-numbed slave. It was the totality of what she was that so enthralled him.
He would only alter her perceptions a little bit, just so she would forget what she had been doing, thus opening an opportunity for him to introduce his presence into her life. But first … first he needed to touch her. Just one blessed moment of contact. Something to soothe this burn within him. Something to calm it a little so he could think straight and function properly.
Kane reached for her, his hand trembling as he did so, the vibration indicative of the power of his feelings, of his weakening restraint. His palm burned just with the anticipation of her, prickles dancing the length of his long fingers so that they twitched. Her unknowing smile was soft and serene. It could be anything he wanted it to be. It could be even more beatific, it could be wildly ecstatic. For now it remained that lovely neutral as he touched the tips of his fingers to the curve of her high cheekbone.
Oh, Sweet Destiny. It pract
ically hurt, that overwhelming sensation of rightness and relief that rushed through him. He cradled that gorgeous face against his palm and fought off an emotional wash of tears that pricked behind his lids. His. She was his. At last he had her in his grasp, he had crossed the line and, contrary to all the warnings pounded into him for all of his life, lightning had not come to strike him down. What was so bloody wrong about this, he wanted to know. Yes, she was human and he was Demon, but weren’t they more alike than unalike? Were they not both made of flesh? Did they not both crave the touch and presence of that special someone … that caress of forever knowing each other, that passion that blinded the soul? The world was not coming to and end! It was just beginning!
And then lightning struck.
Like the snap of a magician’s cape being pulled away to reveal a tiger in a cage, Jacob the Enforcer appeared before him. Dread and horror rushed into Kane from all vectors, the shock of suddenly standing toe-to-toe with his Elder brother slamming into him like a sucker punch. This was Jacob at his most frightening. His most terrible. Yes, it was still the same brother who had raised him and loved him all of his life, but it was the side of Jacob no Demon saw until they had crossed Demon law. It was the Enforcer. And he had come to punish Kane.
Kane’s throat went suddenly and brutally dry, his heart seizing in what he had to confess was fear. The punishment for what he had just done was the most severe a Demon could face, next to being put to death. His hand jerked away from the redhead’s cheek as if she’d burned him and his concentration broke from her. She blinked, suddenly becoming aware that she was sandwiched between two strange men and had no idea how she had gotten there.
“Take hold of her mind, Kane. Do not make this worse by frightening her.”
Kane obeyed instantaneously and his precious fixation relaxed. The resulting peaceful beauty that washed over her was enough to distract him even from the knell of Jacob’s presence. He marveled at how soft and sweet she looked. He knew her mind and nature were matched to her looks. It was only the cold warning look from his sibling that kept him from touching her again.
Three Worlds 01 - Seduce Me In Dreams Page 31