Stone Prince

by Emma Alisyn

  Of course. Her expression shut down, though her smile was chilly. “Things were getting boring around here, anyway.”

  She returned to the office, and the human staff took one look at her face and Bea’s and said nothing about Rhina’s apparent transformation from a drab human to a gargoyle hybrid. Bea had likely already told them the story, or enough that they wouldn’t ask questions, for they continued to work with her as if she was still Rhina.

  Rhina commed Yeseca after reading on the calendar that the female’s first date had happened the previous evening. An hour-long discussion with her assured Rhina that the match had potential, and also gave Rhina time to accept her course of action.

  She would have to speak to Lourden. He was the only one who had the information they needed. Surah would have to help, as well.

  The Princess agreed to the plan and met Rhina near the kitchens two hours later. She held a small, black med-kit in her hand.

  “Do the Princes know?” Rhina asked.

  “They will as soon as I input my clearance codes,” Surah said. “Geza will let us have maybe thirty minutes before Malin makes him send security to retrieve us.”

  “Males,” Rhina muttered. “As if we can’t take care of ourselves.”

  Surah smiled thinly. “Oh, they know we can. It’s the damage we can do that they’re afraid of. You have your questions prepared? Good.”

  The descended to the catacombs quickly, Surah dealing with security—she was the Princess, after all. They had to be aware Rhina was now Geza’s consort. They wouldn’t stop the females, but they would certainly alert their superior officers, who would, in turn, alert the Princes.

  “You,” Surah said to a guard, “come with us. I’ll need some muscle. It might buy us some time.”

  They stopped just outside of Lourden’s cell. “Five minutes,” Surah said to Rhina, and the Princess and the guard entered.

  The door was barricaded against sound, so Rhina counted silently. Surah would be administering a concentrated dose of Truthseer, and not the beverage version, but the cellblock interrogation version. Rhina had no medical expertise and no knowledge of injecting substances into beings, though she was now realizing that would be a handy skill to have for the future. Surah had said Rhina’s skills would be useful to the Ioveanus—how much could Rhina learn from working closely with them, however?

  She put those thoughts aside and focused, entering the room at exactly five minutes. The agreement was Surah would soften Lourden up with several questions before Rhina entered, to make him as susceptible as possible.

  The Mogren male’s eyes winded when he saw Rhina. “So,” he said. “You’ve betrayed us.”

  Rhina didn’t blink. There was no other reason why she would be here, and it was the truth. She stared down at him dispassionately. “Who has the contract to kill Geza Ioveanu should I fail?”

  His lip curled back, exposing a fang. “I don’t know. Did you think I was stupid enough to retain that information myself? You can’t stop what’s going to happen.”

  “Why haven’t you tried to escape?”

  “I don’t need to. At the proper time, I’ll be rescued. I am a true Mogren, after all. I will succeed, or I will die.”

  She continued the line of questioning, seeing a mental clock in her mind, attempting to learn as much as she could from what he didn’t say as well as from what he did.

  “Rhina,” Surah said. “We’re out of time.”

  Moghrenna had one more question. “Why did Lavinia kill my mother?”

  “She was a traitor. She was going to take you to your father, depriving us of a valuable tool. She had to die.”

  His face was beaded in sweat, his eyes glossy and dilated with the effects of the drug. His voice was clear, and there was no possible way he could have used subterfuge. The words punched a hole in her gut.

  “I should have used Truthseer before,” Surah said. “I don’t know why I didn’t think about it. I think I was angry and just wanted to torture him. Stupid.”

  “A basic mistake,” Rhina said, echoing Niko.

  The door opened, two angry males in the hallway. “If you are quite done, Princess?” Geza asked icily. Niko just stared at them, expression stony.

  Surah retrieved her kit. “Is Malin on the way?”

  “What do you think? This stunt interrupted a meeting, so he’s doubly pissed.”

  Surah sighed. Rhina followed her into the hallway, Geza glancing at her face. “Did you learn what you wanted?”

  Rhina nodded. “I think we got enough to piece together what’s going to happen.”

  “The cams began recording as soon as Surah entered her codes.”

  “That’s a new feature.”

  “Yes.” He bit off the word, obviously angry.

  “You wanted a Princess who would handle the Ioveanu life. Did you want me to sit in the office and finalize cupcake decorations?”

  “I wanted you to trust me, and communicate with me.”

  They were outside the cell block now. Rhina stopped, surprised, and faced him. “I do trust you. I could probably communicate better, but I’m used to working alone.”

  His expression was smooth, hard, but his eyes softened—just a little. “We’ll discuss your punishment when we’re alone. I think a spanking is in order, Moghrenna.”

  As Rhina gaped at him, someone coughed.

  As soon as they appeared at the top of the tower, security came rushing towards Geza.

  “Prince! We have a Mogren is custody. A female, the missing one.”

  Rhina froze, then suppressed a curse. The damned female. She should have waited for Rhina to bring her in personally. What had she been thinking?

  “Where is she being held?” Geza asked.

  “We were escorting her to the prison block. I was sent to inform you—your comm is off, Highness.”

  “Geza,” Rhina said quietly, voice edged.

  Geza nodded sharply at the guard, glanced at Rhina and jerked his head for her to follow. She strode at his side. There was a small room, located right before the catacombs where the intake process happened. Tyra sat on a smooth, hard bench, back straight, but staring at her lap. Rhina could tell she was frightened and trying to hide it.

  “Was she harmed?” Rhina asked the officer who emerged, a tablet in hand.

  The officer didn’t quite glower, but an air of offense settled over him. “I know my job. We don’t rough up prisoners, simply process them. Lady.”

  Geza took her aside. “Rhina, she’ll have to stay in holding until paperwork is processed and she gives testimony. There are procedures. Why didn’t she wait for you?”

  “I don’t know. I need to talk to her.”

  He nodded and entered the room on her heels after speaking with the officer. The door slid shut behind them.

  “Tyra, what were you thinking?” Rhina asked. “If you had told me your decision, I won have made arrangements.”

  Tyra looked up, visible relief on her face. “No, I thought it would look better if I came in on my own. I thought—” she bit her lip. “I was afraid they would kill me, or lock me up and not tell you I was here.”

  “That wouldn’t have been possible,” Geza said, voice gentle. Unoffended by the implication that he wasn’t in full command of his tower. “You’ll have to remain in holding, and my Councilors will want to know what information you can offer in return for your pardon.”

  Rhina turned to look at him. “You’ll assign her counsel?”

  He paused.

  “I’ll pay for it.”

  Irritation lit his eyes. “It's not a matter of money. It’s a conflict of interest. Those accused of crimes against the Prince are not allowed Counsel.”

  “That’s an antiquated law,” she snapped.

  “Fine.” Geza swore. “The next Council meeting is going to be hell. I should send you in my place while I sip martinis and bask in the sun on my balcony.”

  “Isn’t that what you do all day anyway?”

&nb
sp; His eyes narrowed. “We’re going to discuss your low opinion of me, and the faulty information behind it. I suppose one must make allowances for a female educated by the Mogrens.”

  She bared her teeth. “Better than an Ioveanu education.”

  Tyra cleared her throat. “Yours is going to be an interesting marriage. The garlings, especially. Better not have twins, they’ll be battling in the womb.”

  They both turned to look at Tyra. Geza sighed. “All couples have difficulties. I have more than most dealing with this one.”

  Rhina balled her fist and punched him in the shoulder.

  “Ow,” he said, voice bored. “That hurt so much.”

  “I can see why your brother tried to drown you as a baby.”

  “That is a dirty myth.”

  “Counsel?” Tyra asked.

  Geza nodded. “I'll arrange it. I'll excuse myself from the procedures here on out to avoid the appearance of favoritism. The Council will be aware of my feelings in the matter, however.”

  “Will that be enough?” Rhina asked.

  His only response was a chilly, dangerous smile.

  25

  Despite the tenseness of the situation and the air of waiting as if an axe was about to fall, the next several evenings until the night of the ball fell into a routine. Bea and Surah worked together when Bea’s schedule permitted. Geza continued to rope Rhina into helping him pinpoint matches without using an algorithm. Geza argued with the Council over Rhina’s status, clearance, and official duties. Geza and Rhina both waited for the Council to determine Tyra’s pardon. He’d assured her he’d made every effort in negotiating behind closed doors for a favorable outcome and was prepared, if things didn’t go the way he wanted, to intervene, personally, as a last resort. Rhina hacked into the tower’s systems and accessed the file containing Tyra’s testimony and was relieved that it was simultaneously non-incriminating and useful. Tyra had been able to identify leads for several different families that weren’t officially allied with the Mogrens. Information that would help with future surveillance efforts, but not make Tyra so interesting a person that she became a permanent guest of the Council, or a target.

  Rhina and Niko also reviewed the recording of the interview with Lourden over and over, analyzing every flick of a lash, every word or inflection of tone. And, after hours of snarling and snapping came to the same conclusion.

  “The only way to stop the assassinations is to cut the funding,” Rhina said.

  Niko resisted for a few more moments. That course of action brought Malin and a female named Camra into the picture. Rhina gave them enough data to get started tracing accounts without getting herself put on a hit list in the underground community.

  “Look,” she finally snapped, voice edged with fatigue and tension. “I may have worked exclusively for the Mogrens, or been outsourced at their discretion, but I’m still a part of a community that if word gets out I’ve betrayed our infrastructure, I’ll have to go dark for the rest of my life. If I can convince them being Geza’s wife is only another cover, they’ll leave me alone.”

  “That’s stupid,” Niko said.

  “No, it isn’t. All of us have long-term covers. You have to look like you’re a part of a family, and a highly-placed political family is even better. They’ll simply assume I infiltrated it in order to make new contacts and exploit opportunities. Like it or not, this isn’t a hunt for warriors. It's a hunt for hackers.”

  “I can take care of that,” Camra said. “But, I need a bit of leeway.”

  Malin, having arrived toward the latter part of the argument and offering assistance as far as whatever tech was needed, studied the female. “If you make a mess that reflects poorly on the Ioveanus—”

  “I understand,” she said solemnly.

  Rhina frowned at the female, then scowled at Malin. “You can’t hang a civilian out to dry if she encounters trouble doing your business.”

  “I can do the job,” Camra said. “You’ve given me enough to go on, Lady Moghrenna.”

  Rhina grit her teeth but stopped arguing. Who was she to tell another female what she was and was not capable of? “Fine. But, don’t do anything that will risk whatever identity you have crafted.”

  Camra smiled a little. “I’m not really a newb. But thanks.”

  In the meantime, Rhina and Geza courted under Niko’s watchful eye, Rhina remaining alert. Geza even took her to the training field one evening for Kausar to run her through her paces.

  “You might be useful,” the Master of the Guard grunted, sweating. He’d been in semi-retirement before the attempts on Geza’s life has escalated, and had resumed his post months ago. Rhina didn’t know why a fit male only a little past his prime had gone into retirement anyway, but she hadn’t asked.

  The night of the ball, a gown was delivered to her. She stared at the garnet, silver-embossed box contemplatively. She’d forgotten all about ordering a dress, since she’d originally arranged for clothing to suit her human cover, and was a little worried Geza had picked it out. If she were lucky, a dress chosen by him would include fabric, but that was optional.

  The chime to the suite pinged. “Enter.”

  A perfectly made-up female dressed in a discreet navy pantsuit entered. “Lady.” She bowed, wings tight against her back. “I’m your wardrobe assistant. A stylist for your hair and makeup will be arriving shortly.”

  Rhina stared at them then lifted a hand. “One moment, please.” She entered the dressing closet in the bedroom for privacy and commed her missing husband.

  “Geza, why the hell do I have a wardrobe mistress and a hair and makeup wench?”

  He stared at her blankly. “I’ve seen your taste in hair and wardrobe.”

  “That was a disguise, Geza!”

  “This is non-negotiable. I don’t trust you. At all. You’ll show up to my ball in a brown suit or leather. Or a janitor's overall.”

  She froze, then cleared her throat. “An overall?”

  He snorted and cut transmission. After dropping that little bomb, she really had no choice but to endure the wardrobe fairy.

  “Such beautiful hair,” the stylist murmured, once they’d bullied Rhina onto the tall stool they’d set up. They’d set up an entire portable station complete with lighting. Incredible. “It reminds me of Lady Silulu, though her shade is warmer.”

  “Where is that coward Geza getting ready?” Rhina asked darkly.

  They wisely didn’t respond.

  Her hair was mostly allowed to fall down her back, adorned by a delicate spider web of nearly invisible silver threads and tiny diamonds that winked in the light. Braids were woven here and there in the design.

  “This isn’t a gargoyle style,” she said with a frown as they held up a hand mirror to allow her to see the back.

  “No, Lady, it’s currently in fashion in the Fae court.”

  “Who ordered that?”

  The stylist stilled, probably responding to Rhina’s tone of voice. “The Prince, Lady. He asked us to style you according to your dual heritage.”

  The effect was ethereal and exotic. Her makeup was lighter than what the sultry featured, sloe-eyed beauties of the court preferred. Instead of rich wine colored lips and heavily lined eyes, her skin was dusted with iridescent power, and subtle shades of blues. Eyeshadow that played with her natural coloring was applied. Nearly colorless gloss on her lips, definitely not the current court fashion.

  The dress . . . the dress. It was blue, again, and ice-blue. But, the body-hugging style from Surah’s borrowed gown was absent. Full, diaphanous skirts fell from the natural-waisted corset bodice. Instead of baring arms and shoulders, sheer fabric was crafted into sleeves and beaded with thousands of crystals. In fact, the dress was an explosion of crystal. She hoped it was crystal. She didn’t want to be wearing a Prince’s ransom in jewels.

  It was also a Fae gown. What game was Geza playing?

  But, the back was low to accommodate wings, and the appropriate amount of skin tap
e had to be applied to keep the edges of the gown flat since there were no ties to interrupt the expanse of exposed flesh.

  Rhina looked in the mirror. A Fae Princess stared back at her, eyes as black as the wings spread behind her, a startling complement to skin of palest grey with a blush undertone and hair that now looked as if it was crushed, living diamond.

  “You’ll make a very striking couple,” the wardrobe Mistress said, satisfaction in her voice. “We’ve outdone ourselves.”

  “Geza will be pleased with the photos, that’s certain,” Rhina said, wondering where he had dressed since he’d given over the suite to her. The last item they gave her was a pair of stiletto heels, at least six inches. She slipped them on with an internal shrug. She could always kick them off if she needed to fight, or use the heel to gouge an enemy’s eye out.

  She dismissed the females and took a few more minutes to strap knife sheathes to each thigh, practicing how she would reach for them if needed since there were no handy slits in her skirts. Geza would be on the receiving end of a long, blistering lecture over ordering her attire fit for a Princess, but not a warrior.

  Rhina exited into the hallway at the appropriate time. Technically, she should have been helping Bea as the event assistant, but the night before it had been decided that Rhina’s only duties would be as Geza’s consort—and his closest personal bodyguard. The last duty being one she and Niko had decided without the Prince’s input.

  Geza met her at the end of their private hallway. He wore unrelieved black from his form-fitted trousers and stacked-heel evening boots, to a formal high-collared shirt with a row of silver buttons that appeared to have been handcrafted. He wore a subtle application of cosmetics again, the eyeliner and shimmer of face powder that took his masculine beauty and made it nearly androgynous. Almost like one of the fabled dark elves of old, though no elf had ever had wings as magnificent as Geza Ioveanu’s.

  “You don’t look like you’re going to a party,” she murmured, accepting his arm.