But Vallon—in chains—boldly interrupted her by kneeling before the queen as elegantly as any courtier could who was bound hand and foot, addressing her in their own language. "Great Queen, I am Prince Vallon, of Juqar. My father is — "
After stepping forward and looking more carefully down at Vallon's upturned face, Cika had never seen her mother blanch completely white before, not even bothering to take the slave to task for having the audacity to interrupt her. Instead, addressing two of the guards, she yelled, "Get me the latest dispatches !"
She held up her hand to stop the guards from anticipating her wishes—they already had a hold of him in none too gentle a fashion—then signaled for him to rise. He did so without their help. "If you are who you say you are, I know who your father is." She switched to a language Cika had never heard before, that must've been his native tongue, and the translator told her that she was asking him how his father was, and inquiring after his mother, too .
Vallon responded smoothly, with a facility for the language that was apparent to everyone in the room and could only come from a native speaker. Moments later, while still conversing with him and grilling him about details that only someone of his great rank would likely know about his government, the guards returned and one handed her a tablet, which she scrolled quickly through and becoming rapidly even paler .
With that, she handed the tablet to her middle daughter with what could only be described as an icy glare .
Cika watched her sister's complexion grow to match her mother's as she stared down at what was obviously a picture of Vallon on the screen .
And then, of course, Sillandra began to bluster, "How was I to know? I can't keep track of everything — "
Their mother cut her off with just a look, bearing down on her like hell fury. "I could excuse your sister—she's always preferred to have her nose in a book rather than paying attention to her duties—but you, Sillandra, have always been the one I would have chosen as my princess royale, had I been given that choice, because I thought you were the politically savvy type who enjoyed the maneuvering and posturing and games that are necessarily a part of a queen's life. Someone who would realize that detail is everything in a position like this—and you have had access to my dispatches since you were thirteen—this information is not kept in the general records computers—it's for my eyes and the council's eyes only! How could you not have known that King Okul's son—the heir apparent of Juqar—has been missing for some time now? That his very powerful father has been frantic with worry, sending bulletins every day…" She kind of drifted off at that point, which was also an unusual thing for her to do .
Cika didn't think she'd ever seen a moment in her life when her mother wasn't on top of absolutely everything that was happening in her realm. It was one of the reasons why she had no interest in the job, and why Silly had seemed like the much better candidate .
She didn't feel so badly that she hadn't been able to find any information to support what he had been saying, but it had turned out to be true, and she could barely believe it—Prince Vallon was really a prince !
As if she was speaking to herself, the queen continued, "And if he finds out that we have him—that we've been keeping him here as a slave, no less…" Her speech trailed off, as if the consequences were entirely too horrible to contemplate .
Cika wisely kept her mouth shut about the condition of Vallon's back, feeling it would serve no purpose other than to agitate her further .
Stepping up to Vallon, Queen Raythe raised her wrist to the back of his neck, removing the chip, then she did something neither of her daughters had ever seen her do. She knelt before him. A man! Cika could not believe it! From that lowly, subservient—submissive —position—she spoke to him in a more deferential tone than either of her children had ever heard her use with anyone, "I accept complete responsibility for this fiasco. Please accept my most sincere, personal apologies for the treatment you have received at our hands, Prince Vallon ."
Vallon reached down to take her hand—the chains he was still wearing rattling a bit as he did so—to lift her up to stand before him. "They are accepted, of course, my Queen," he replied graciously, inclining his head a bit towards her .
Appearing somewhat flustered, Raythe glared at the guards. "Release him at once, you fools, and get him something more suitable to wear, for Heaven's sake—he's a prince and he's standing there like some prized stud! We'll be damned lucky if they don't invade and slaughter us all in our sleep, when they find out that we've had him all this time and he's been used as a part of the breeding stock! What have you two done to me ?!"
She stalked off, muttering to herself, leaving chaos in her wake .
Sillandra followed, after glaring at the two of them, hissing, "I don't care who he is or who his father is, even if my head rolls for it. I don't even want to think about what was going on here between the two of you before we came in. It was thoroughly and completely disgusting. Abnormal." She spat the last two words. She stood in front of her sister and said, "You are a disgrace to this family, to our ancestors and our planet. You are an abomination—a deviant who doesn't deserve to — "
But before she could go any further, Vallon inserted himself between Silly and Cika, tucking Cika safely behind him, saying very calmly and civilly, "I think you had better go before you say something that I can promise you, you will be made to regret ."
That got her sister to close her mouth faster than anything else, ever. She turned to leave, but Vallon's voice—and his hand on her arm—stopped her. "But not before you apologize to your sister for what you just said ."
She—who had been trained as a warrior almost from birth, as he had, did her best to extract herself from of his hold, but he subdued her with ridiculous ease, forcing her to stand in front of Cika .
"Apologize to your sister, Princess Sillandra, or I shall arrange that you be wed to the other man from Juqar who is also on this planet. He has yet to find a wife, and I think you could do with a bit—okay, a lot—of taming, and I think your mother, at the moment, would be glad to be well rid of you ."
Almost before he finished his sentence, Silly was already speaking, "I'm very sorry about what I said to you. Please forgive me ."
It was just about the nicest thing her middle sister had ever said to her. "Of course, I forgive you," Cika said graciously .
Before she ended up with someone who might put her into the same position she'd seen Cika in, Sillandra stalked off, trying not to look as if she was doing so as quickly as was physically possible .
"Prince Vallon?" A woman in royal livery stood in the doorway and bowed. "I have been sent to bring you to your rooms and see to your every comfort ."
Vallon took Cika's hand in his. "I think I'd better go with her or your mother is likely to have a stroke ."
Cika was standing there, trembling and looking paralyzed by fear. He took her into his arms and held her tightly, trying to soothe her .
She interrupted him, though, to whisper urgently, "Please. You have to believe me—I didn't cause this or set this in motion in any way—I didn't want you to be captured or discovered or anything — "
"I know you didn't, my Princess," he smiled down at her. "Don't worry about that. I will go and play the part, and you are not to worry, I will make certain that we meet again soon." His eyes went to where she had been bent over the end of the bed, and his voice lowered at least an octave to a primitive growl as he whispered to her, "After all, we have unfinished business to attend to, you and I ."
Cika squealed at that, clutching automatically at her bottom, then quickly thinking better of having done so, as she was reminded what condition it was in while he kissed her on the lips, joining the guards and leaving her there, by herself, to contemplate the enormity of what had
just happened and the truth that had been revealed .
Chapter 7
I t was a day or so before she received a summons to appear before her mother—and apparently, the entire court along with her—one that she had to think hard about whether not she was going to respond to it, not that she really had much choice, she supposed .
No one in her family—not even her youngest sister, who hadn't been involved in the hoopla—had spoken to her since it had all happened, least of all Vallon. She had been left alone—isolated, except for her servants, with whom she wasn't about to discuss the situation, of course. And she had spent the majority of her time crying. There was no way that this was going to end well, regardless of how it was eventually resolved. He was going to be sent home as soon as it could be arranged, with all possible pomp and ceremony, and that was going to leave her here, soon to be mated with a man of her mother's choice or banished completely from society, perhaps confined to an island or a planet by herself, with just enough supplies to keep her alive while she waited out the years to die alone .
She couldn't bear to seriously consider any of the likely possibilities. Especially what was most definitely going to happen—she was going to spend the rest of her life without him. She should have been jumping for joy about that—she was still reminded every time she sat down how he had treated her—that he was her man, and therefore, dominant over her and that he would always discipline her unapologetically, unrepentantly, and unrelentingly .
But what was the alternative, really? That he stay here? They would be outcasts—subjects of ridicule and speculation at the worst, pointed and laughed at, and Cika couldn't see her mother putting up with that, no matter who his father was .
And if she left with him? What then? She'd spend her life light years away, on a planet that wasn't her own and in a society that was no more likely to be eager to embrace her than hers was to accept him .
What it came down to, she guessed, was whether or not she was willing—whether what she was just beginning to realize she felt for him—would be worth facing something so unknown as living on an entirely different planet in a social system that would always defer to—and refer her to—her husband? And even without all of the external pressures, would she really be happy living like that? Submitting her will to his? Being punished whenever he deemed it necessary, having his children, being no more than his wife—essentially his property? She never did come to any kind of a conclusion, one way or the other, about how she hoped this played out .
When the time came, she put on much more makeup than she usually did, in order to hide the signs of her tears, donning—as was requested on the summons—clothing that was much differently from usual—her ceremonial dress and robes, which had been long since dyed to match the color of her hair—what there was left of it, she thought with a frown, remembering what Vallon had said just before he'd left .
But that was probably not going to happen—she couldn't imagine that her mother would ever allow them to spend any time together at all, much less time alone for any reason. No, she would probably end up saddled with what was considered to be the "right" kind of man for her, one she would be expected to control and mate with normally .
Guards escorted her to the throne room, where she was announced by her full, formal name. "Her Royal Highness, The Princess Royale Cika Raythe Laymon Dezarian Presico ."
She walked down the long, green carpet, past the indecipherable titters and whispers of the court, knowing some of them had to be aware of what had transpired among the royal family not long ago—nothing and no one could control gossip for very long—to where her mother was seated on her ornate throne, made her formal bow, then took the last few steps to lean down and kiss that withered face somewhere in the vicinity of her cheek. She stood to one side, careful that nothing of hers touched Sillandra, whom she was forced, by protocol, to stand next to. She refused to even consider looking Silly in the eye, and as far as she could tell, it seemed the feeling was mutual .
"His Royal Highness, The Exalted Master of All He Surveys, The Crown Prince Vallon Yazmen Terville, son of The Most Perfect King Okul ."
Although she had seen him in his glorious, unselfconscious nakedness, she had never seen him like this. He was absolutely gorgeous, striding—almost swaggering—confidently down the royal blue carpet—as the entire court became apoplectic at the idea of a prince addressing their beloved queen—to again kneel in front of her mother, which must have tickled her to death, since it was a very old fashioned, genteel custom that was really no longer followed, and he certainly had absolutely no cause to kneel to her, for any reason .
But he did, with no sign of mockery or irony apparent, either, knowing it was likely to earn him points—even if he didn't really need them—with both the queen and the others surrounding them. And when she asked him to rise—almost giddily, Cika noted with a frown—he took one big stride with those obscenely long legs of his and took her hand, bending low to kiss the back of it, murmuring, "My most gracious and beautiful Queen ."
Then he stepped back, and Cika found herself caught staring at the man himself. And did he just have the audacity to wink at her ?
Apparently, he had, because she heard Silly's less than delicate snort in reaction, seconds later .
"Prince Vallon, we are glad to see you looking so robust and healthy ."
"Thank you. I had a wonderful rest in the beautiful apartments in which you have so generously seen fit to ensconce me, my Queen." He smiled. "And may I say you are looking most lovely today yourself? That color—amethyst, is it—suits you perfectly ."
Her mother—the queen —giggled like a schoolgirl. It was all Cika could do not to roll her eyes. What had happened to the strong, stalwart woman who had raised her ?
"Prince Vallon, you are highly improper ."
"So I have been told nearly all my life, my Queen. It is my cross to bear ."
The queen smiled broadly down at him for a moment longer, then settled herself in her chair. "Well, as much as we have enjoyed your stay — "
"Some of us more than others," Silly interjected under her breath, but Cika staunchly ignored it .
"We wouldn't want to keep you from your very concerned father any longer, and thus, it is with great regret that we must send you—" The older woman's focus changed from him to a man who was standing off to the side a bit, his uniform much less grand than Vallon's. "We must send you and your friend, Lord Hawl, back home." The other man bowed in acknowledgement of the queen's mention .
"I have given you one of our ships, with all of the necessary accoutrement, to get back to your planet in relative comfort. Please convey my greetings and felicitations to your father and mother, when next you see them ."
Vallon nodded. "Thank you very much for your gracious gift. It is much appreciated ."
Her mother looked satisfied that all was going to turn out well, at least in regards to hopefully not being invaded by the fierce warriors of Juqar, but she obviously hadn't counted on Vallon not stopping there—when he should have .
"But I find that I am quite unwilling to leave your delightful planet without taking someone from here with me ."
The entirety of the court—including Cika—first gaped, then gasped .
As he spoke, he walked up to stand in front of her, taking her hand to guide her to stand next to him, facing her mother, instead. "I'm sure you can understand the reasons behind my reluctance to leave the woman who is—even by your own laws—my mate, and moreover, by the laws of my planet, the princess royale is now my wife ."
After a long moment of stunned silence, during which everyone in the room seemed to have been holding their breath, they all began to speak at once, until her mother banged her huge purple scepter on the floor several times, ordering them all to quiet .
Cika watched her mother adjusting
her position in her seat for a moment, knowing she was employing the tactic in order to deliberately delay her response. When she spoke, her head was tilted a bit and she eyed Vallon closely. "My Prince, if I might have a moment of your time—as well as the princess royale's—to speak with the two of you in the privacy of my audience chamber ?"
"Of course, my Queen ."
The three of them retired to the room that was just behind the throne room. Cika knew the room had been thoroughly soundproofed the minute her mother had ascended to the throne .
Once they were alone, her mother dropped the sycophant routine, and Cika hoped Vallon wouldn't be annoyed that she was showing him her true colors .
But she needn't have been concerned. Vallon had learned the art of governance at his father's knee—he knew how the game was played .
"Why don't we just cut to the chase here? I find myself growing quite weary of the drama. I'm too old for that kind of stuff." She strode up to Vallon and poked him firmly in the chest with her bony finger. "Why should I allow you to leave this planet with my eldest daughter in tow, young man? She is to be the new queen, when I have worn out my welcome ."
Ever the diplomat, Vallon returned, "You said it yourself, great Queen. She is not who you would have chosen to follow you, although I would put it to you that the one you prefer might not be the best choice either, that is not a matter of my concern. Your eldest—my wife—though, most certainly is , and therefore, she will be accompanying me home ."
"Whether or not she might cotton to the work, the line—by tradition—must pass down through her ."
"Then, if that's not an option, banish her. You mentioned it that night as an option, and it seems to me that it's the best of the bunch. Then, she is no longer a viable heiress and you could groom whomever you prefer. You would need to put her somewhere, preferably well out of the public eye, and quickly, so that the talk and publicity would die down and you could get on with the serious business of ruling. She would be ruined, and no one would much care what it was that you did with her. Put her with me. In fact, everyone else would be likely to see it as a fit punishment, frankly ."
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