The Stars Wait Not

by Anne Wheeler

“We’ll be just fine,” he said, helping her out. “I’m certain of it.”

  It sounded like he was convincing himself of that as much as her, and she clutched at his arm as they walked down the breezeway, surrounded on both sides by a rock garden that reminded her of the granite by Kresten’s waterfall. She was ready now, to hike up there and sit and watch the water trickle down the rock without thinking of how she’d almost tried to murder him—and almost lost her own life.

  If only the emperor agreed to their marriage.

  Darling star, take a breath.

  She jumped at Kresten’s voice. It had been a lunar cycle and a half since the telepathic bond had been created, and she still wasn’t used to figuring out when she was in his mind and he in hers. She would get used to that, too, he’d said, would have secrets again once she learned how to keep her thoughts to herself. Eventually.

  I’m breathing. It was hard not to laugh at the imperial sentries who trailed them, oblivious to their conversation.

  Not well. I can hear you doing it. I’m betting on the fact that it’s rather hard to condemn someone to death when you’re looking them in the face. Dahl just has a particular talent for it. And the sentries know we’re talking right now. They’ve always hated it, but they know.

  His assurance didn’t seem certain. You’re frightened, too. Don’t lie to me.

  I’m concerned.

  Kresten . . .

  All right. I’m terrified. He glanced at her and tried to smile. But we’re almost there, and then we won’t need to worry any longer. Either way.

  She looked around, toward the end of the breezeway that opened into a walled garden. A garden?

  I thought it would be easier on you than the throne room. Kresten sounded sheepish, even in her mind.

  And he agreed? The faintest hope sprang up in her heart.

  He’s my father. He’s not a monster.

  There wasn’t anything to say to that. It was almost impossible to undo an entire lifetime of fear and hate in just a few lunar cycles. Kresten couldn’t ask that of her. He just couldn’t. Respect, yes, that she could do. Trust someone like the emperor of the Vilarian Star Realm? No, that would have to come much later.

  Too late, she remembered her mind was still open.

  All’s forgiven, Ryllis. I understand. A telepathic chuckle echoed throughout her body. But try to act like you don’t hate him. Just for now.

  I’ll—I’ll try.

  Good. “Are you ready?” he asked out loud, as they approached an iron gate decorated in the same swirls as the one in the garden behind the mountain lodge.

  She nodded, unable to verbalize anything. Switching from telepathic language to speaking was becoming easier with each day, but only when she wasn’t terrified. Kresten caressed her mind one more time, then backed away, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Severing the bond temporarily was only proper in front of his emperor and father, but the sudden isolation made her shiver. The sentries disappeared behind them like they’d never existed at all, and before she knew what was happening, she was standing in the garden and Kresten was touching her hand, the agreed-upon cue.

  She knelt next to him without looking up, even though the breeze that sang through the shrubberies called to her. Strange how little the gesture bothered her this time, even as the shadow of the man she’d been raised to fear fell across her vision. But with Kresten next to her, that didn’t matter. The sun on her face mattered, the scent of the roses did, the wind tousling her growing hair did.

  But there was no fear.

  “Your Majesty”—there was an odd fondness she hadn’t expected in Kresten’s voice—“may I present my wife.”

  Soft footsteps sounded, all but overpowered by the singing of a bird somewhere above. The shadow shifted, then stabilized.

  “You may. Though I’m disappointed in you, Kresten.”

  Kresten shifted, his left knee still stiff and aching, Ryllis knew, but she remained frozen. They’d been wrong. The hope she’d been clinging to washed away in the summer breeze, and it was all she could do to keep from grabbing him and running. The same hands she’d felt grabbing her in that room at the base in Arvika reached for her again in her mind, and she threw off the memory before she could panic. Kresten would make this right. Wouldn’t he?

  “Sir?” Kresten sounded more confused than anxious, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing either.

  “You made me wait this long to meet her?”

  Her breath escaped in one long exhale, and Kresten pulled her to her feet. Ryllis stood there, eyes downward, a deferential distance from him, as he leaned forward to kiss the back of his father’s outstretched hand. The emperor was supposed to extend the same to her, but before he did, Kresten wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close.

  “I love her, Father. And I would do anything to protect her.” His grip on her tightened. “Even from you.”

  “You could lose your title for this decision you’ve made. Even your life. Is she worth it?”

  “I would make the same one a thousand times over.”

  Kresten’s words sounded like a challenge, but when Ryllis looked up, the man standing across from them wore a smile. His rotund physique and cheery facade weren’t what she’d expected. Neither was his white, shoulder-length hair, more like Prince Vidar’s than Kresten’s, or his casual yet elegant tunic. He wore no crown, just a simple gold ring with the imperial crest on his right hand. She tried to avert her eyes, but the sight of her final nightmare was too mesmerizing. The emperor was nothing more than a man.

  “Then I am proud of you,” the emperor said. “And thrilled to welcome a new member of the family. Hold out your hands, both of you.”

  Kresten seemed to deflate in relief, right there next to her. Ryllis looked up at him, and he nodded, as pale as he’d been when they’d left Arvika, but with a smile like she’d never seen before.

  Everything was going to be all right.

  Kresten’s fingers through hers, she reached out toward the emperor as he removed something from his pocket. He took a step toward them, and it was only Kresten’s presence next to her that kept her from fleeing. With him next to her, she could stand whatever came next.

  “Since you decided to circumvent the official ceremony, I’ve brought it to you.” The emperor let a familiar amethyst ribbon dangle from his hand, and her heart almost stopped. “It’s not the traditional silk cord, and I’m hardly a priest, but given the circumstances . . .” He chuckled. “I swear, no one can figure out a run-around the law like a Westermark.”

  She didn’t know where he’d gotten the ribbon—Kresten had likely sent for it and Lina would have been more than happy to comply—but as she wiped away tears with her free hand, how it had ended up in this lush palace in a faraway city didn’t matter. A token like this . . . could the emperor of the Vilarian Star Realm possibly know how much it meant to her?

  Somehow, as Kresten’s hand squeezed hers, she found her voice. “It’s a lovely gesture, Your Majesty.”

  He smiled and wound it around Kresten’s left and her right wrist, then removed a vial of oil from his pocket. Heavy perfume mixed with the fragrant blooms around them as he poured it on their skin, and Ryllis watched in fascination as swirls and loops of oil appeared in a more precise fashion than she thought possible. When she was finally able to recognize the vague impression of the imperial crest pattern he’d drawn, it glittered in the sunlight, and she batted Kresten’s finger away from it. Such a beautiful thing didn’t need to be destroyed immediately.

  “Joined together with the ribbon, blessed with the oil,” the emperor said. “Be happy, you two.”

  How easy hope was in hindsight. But how could she have ever thought this would end any other way? Kresten caught her eye and she could tell he was wondering the same thing. He squeezed her fingers, and the rest of her fear drifted away into the brilliant blue sky, leaving her weak.

  “And now I have something to show your lovely bride.” The emperor ge
stured them toward the edge of the stone, toward a small heap of a plant alight with hundreds of brilliant white flowers. A table sat next to it, and on it, a wreath of them, intertwined with the same amethyst ribbon she and Kresten wore about their wrists. Longer ribbons trailed from it, and she couldn’t help her questioning gaze.

  “I was amazed to find meadow sweetvine growing in my son’s greenhouse, of all places,” he said. “And after ten days of extinction, no less. Strangely enough, Vidar claims to know nothing about it.”

  “I would imagine the prince does not, Your Majesty,” she murmured, staring at the tiny shrub and the wreath next to it. It was a miracle they’d survived in Vidar’s greenhouse for so long without her presence, but she could smell the blooms from where she stood, redolent and rich, with a heavy undertone of pine. It was no wonder the empress loved them so.

  The emperor’s smile split his face, then he began to laugh. “I thought not. Ah, well. The empress is thrilled, regardless. She made this for you—call it your first Westermark coronet, until I can talk my son into accepting a finer one for you,” he said as he placed it on her head. “Though it does seem this fits you more than gold or diamonds.”

  He backed away, toward a gate at the opposite end of the garden. “I would love to speak with you both more,” he went on, “but I have some prior and urgent appointments. And you must have better things to do than entertain an old man.”

  “We’ll make a casual visit soon. I promise.” Kresten tore his stare from the wreath she wore and took a step forward. “But Father, before you go, one thing. She’s not the only one with this gift, you know. This law—”

  His father held up his hand. “Thought you’d get in all your favors at once, did you?” His expression grew soft again. “I don’t blame you, but now is not the time to discuss such things. Go. Take your wife and celebrate.”

  Kresten didn’t flinch that time. “Yes, sir. We will.”

  He inclined his head and drew her around toward the back of the garden. He’s thinking. The words flew into her mind as he escorted her through the gate. You don’t know the look yet, but I do. Gears are grinding. Even if he never makes a single change, Austet might. Or his children. Or even ours, if it comes to it.

  I’m glad. It’s a step, isn’t it?

  It’s a step. A huge one—and you started the change. Do you realize our marriage would have been unheard of a few solar cycles ago?

  He went silent as they walked back down the breezeway, and Ryllis tapped on his elbow. “What’s wrong?”

  Kresten jerked his chin up. That.

  She followed his gaze, afraid to look. Prince Vidar was approaching from the opposite end of the breezeway, a formal, ornamented jacket slung over his shoulder and an expression of conflicted amusement on his face. Kresten’s presence poked at her mind again, and she let him in, greeting him with the mental equivalent of an eye roll.

  You can curtsey—slightly—if you feel so compelled, he said. Or slug him. Either one. I don’t care.

  Kresten!

  What?

  She put pressure on his fingers to silence him and settled for a short nod in Prince Vidar’s direction. Vidar stopped, yanked on his jacket, and sighed to the heavens as he buttoned it.

  “That’s truly unnatural, you know,” he said. “I’m not sure you realize how much speaking to each other like that unsettles everyone around you—yes, yes, you’re not at all subtle. We all know you’re doing it. Don’t you remember how eerie it was to see Mother and Father doing it when we were children?” His lip curled when he noticed the ribbon. “And nothing says you have to parade around still wearing that thing.”

  “What, this thing?” Kresten asked, holding their hands up between them. “I happen to look good in amethyst, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  He’s just jealous. Of course, It’s a bit annoying, I must admit, he added silently to her, but I might not be able to control my hands otherwise.

  Her cheeks flushed, and she bit her tongue before she could laugh out loud. Behave yourself.

  A low telepathic chuckle echoed throughout her entire body. Behaving is no fun, and you know it.

  Later. She sent a visual into his mind, and it was Kresten’s face that turned bright red that time.

  That better be a promise. His voice was rough that time.

  Oh, it is.

  Vidar huffed again as she tried to catch her breath. “I’m on my way to see Mother. There’s an infestation at the estate, and I suspect she has something to do with it. If you can take your telepathic hands off each other for more than five minutes and promise to use your voices, you’re welcome to join us for tea.” He glanced at the ribbon still dangling from their hands, shook his head, and stalked off.

  Kresten spun Ryllis around and against him. “He won’t stay long with her. Never does. Once he’s gone, if she’s up to it, we’ll go tell her our news.”

  “I think—” How was she supposed to explain her conversation with his mother? “I think the empress already knows.”

  His eyebrows scrunched together. “How?”

  “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you when we have more time.” Ryllis laughed. “And then what?”

  “And then what? We can stay in my flat as long as you are willing to. Or travel. Or spend some time in the grand palace. We can go wherever and do whatever you want.”

  So many options. It made her head spin to contemplate them all. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I still don’t want to travel, especially to another planet. Eventually you’ll be able to talk me into it, but I suppose I’m too Cerethian to do it for enjoyment. And I miss your mountains—I miss the flowers.”

  “You missing the mountains I can handle just fine, but you’ll have to wait until the next solar cycle for the flowers. You’ll live without working for a while, anyway,” he replied. “This season you belong to me, and the garden can have you back in the spring. You’ve done enough for my sorry excuse of a brother, anyway.”

  “I suppose that’s true enough. Right now, I only want to look at you, anyway.” Her fingers touched his jaw. “Husband.”

  “Only look?” Kresten winked in admonishment. I think we’ve already established we can do better than that.

  Kresten . . . She hated saying no, but one of them needed to be responsible. Don’t think I didn’t see you struggle to get off the ground earlier. I don’t want to hurt you.

  Nonsense. You can’t possibly hurt me. He pulled her against his chest, and she nuzzled her head under his chin. And if you somehow manage it, it’ll be worth it.

  Her knees trembled, and the breezeway grew hotter as his lips ran down her neck. The sentries couldn’t have disappeared entirely, not with the emperor somewhere close by, but she couldn’t see their shadows, couldn’t hear their breathing. She could only focus on staying upright.

  “You said this exile was supposed to be distasteful,” she managed to say out loud. “I’m not sure you know the meaning of the word. If this is suffering, I’m afraid to find out what bliss is.” She shivered as he traced the mark on her collarbone with his lips, sending waves of pleasure through her. They would remove it eventually, but for now she would enjoy its power. “Can you die of happiness?”

  “You know, I never thought about it. Let’s find out, shall we?”

  Ryllis glanced around. “Now?”

  “Now.” He lifted her into his arms. “I’m not waiting any longer.”

  Acknowledgments

  A new series is an intimidating thing, and I’m forever grateful for the betas who took a chance on it. Thanks also to Megan for the amazing cover, Meghan, who read the unfinished manuscript a dozen times, and Meaghan, for the gorgeous illustrations—as well as Cathy for the editing.

  About the Author

  Anne Wheeler grew up with her nose in a book but earned two degrees in aviation before it occurred to her that she was allowed to write her own. When not working, moving, or writing her next novel, she can be found planning her next escape to the d
esert—camera gear included. She currently lives in Georgia with her husband, son, and herd of cats.

  Did you love The Stars Wait Not? Then you should read Asrian Skies by Anne Wheeler!

  Avery Rendon is weeks away from realizing her dream as a Commonwealth fighter pilot when planetary politics destroy her fledgling career before it begins. Grudgingly, she returns to her home planet of Asria, still hoping to break free of her royal family and the life of tedious policymaking they've planned for her. But Asria is still Asria, and after her almost-fiancé walks out on her, she's not sure things can get much worse.

  She's wrong. When the Haederan Empire invades Asria, intent on rebuilding their interstellar domain, Avery becomes a target. She also becomes something else—a reluctant and naïve Commonwealth intelligence operative. It's not long before she stumbles upon information that could change the course of the war, and suddenly she's on the run, pursued by the Haederan secret police and desperate to deliver critical information to the Commonwealth before it's too late.

  Swept up in something more dangerous than politics or flying, Avery starts to wonder if her destiny lies somewhere closer to home. If her information can turn the tide of the war. And if she'll live to see the end of it all.

  Also by Anne Wheeler

  Crownkeeper

  Treason's Crown

  Shadows of War

  Asrian Skies

  Unbroken Fire

  Shattered Honor

  Faded Embers

  The Star Realm Saga

  The Stars Wait Not (Coming Soon)

  Standalone

  Shadows of War, Books 1-4