M’lani favored her mother with a watery smile. Jagan took her hand, squeezing it tight. They might, just might, get through this moment without disaster.
King Ryal, carefully not looking at his wife, drew in a deep breath, held it . . . let it out in long sigh of resignation. “As always, my wife speaks with wisdom and compassion. Although I am appalled by the loss of life involved, it is true that without the actions of my children—all my children—we would still be living under the Empire’s boot. I must be eternally grateful for those who stood up and fought. For T’kal Killiri, who began the fight on Psyclid. For Talryn Rigel, the first Regulon to rebel. For Jagan Mondragon”—he nodded to his son-in-law—“who added his powerful magic to the fight. And to all my children, who have joined together to make it possible for us to be free. I can only pray that from now on we may live in peace.”
M’lani, hands clasped in front of her, offered a simple, “Thank you, Papa. Thank you, Mama.”
“I also thank you,” Jagan added. “As do our children.”
With a royal flick of his hand, Ryal dismissed them. “Go. Kiss your children and count your blessings. May the Goddess bless us all.”
As they walked the long corridor that led to their private suite of rooms, M’lani whispered, “My legs are still shaking, my heart rate must be a thousand.”
“But we did it. We’re still the Heirs Apparent.”
“A long time from now.”
“Definitely, a long time from now. Which means we have plenty of time for mischief before we have to become Ryal and Jalaine.”
M’lani flashed him a grin. Holding hands, they continued their journey home.
All four children were asleep when T’kal and B’aela returned to Killirin. Not quite the joyous reunion they had anticipated on the long flight back to Blue Moon and their immediate transfer to a shuttle waiting to transport them to Psyclid. To H’ssan and Aisha, to K’rim and Kiera. And whatever Fate or the Goddess had in store for them. Hopefully, more years of happiness than the years of precarious adventuring and sorrow just passed.
“Will you be content?” B’aela asked. “You missed the action years—will that happen again?”
“Not if I look up and out.” At B’aela’s frown, T’kal explained, “Beyond this household, beyond my design board. If I look for problems that need fixing—and don’t tell me Psyclid, the peaceful planet, doesn’t have problems!”
B’aela encircled his neck with her arms. “Problems that need a throat or two ripped out?” she teased.
“Witch!” He kissed her. Met her dark gaze with his own. “Only under the most dire circumstances,” T’kal returned smoothly. And kissed her again.
Blue Moon
Amid celebrations so extensive they spilled out of Veranelle, out of taverns and public gathering places, out of every house and into the streets, Rand and Anneli Kamal packed for their long-term diplomatic mission—smoothing the path to freedom for the star systems in need of restoring their own governments. Which, by evening of the fourth day, left K’kadi, Alala, and L’relia Xia alone in the house King Ryal had given to Anneli before K’kadi was born.
Four days home. Four days of concentrating on packing lists, absorbing endless instructions and advice from both Rand and Anneli. Four days avoiding what needed to be said to each other. And now it was bedtime. Alala opened her mouth to speak for what must have been at least the hundredth time in the last four days, and closed it again. A warrior she might be, but no one had taught her what to do when confronted by the ultimate awkward situation. K’kadi had wanted her gone. Everyone wanted her gone. Expected her to be gone. Yet here she was, back on Blue Moon.
She looked up to discover K’kadi’s azure eyes studying her. Alala could feel the color draining from her cheeks. Now, at long last, was the moment of reality.
You surprised me.
Alala, head hanging, nodded.
You stayed for the child?
A long pause while she struggled with her pride before admitting, “And for you. It’s true,” she added on a rush. “I know what you think. I treated you abominably. No wonder you turned to Talora. I understand, truly I do. But—incredible as it seems—I don’t want to leave you. Am I so shallow I bask in your glory? I don’t know, but I promise you it isn’t only L’relia who keeps me here.” She gasped for breath, holding herself stiff, in defensive mode, as she waited for his reply.
I cannot give up Talora and Toren.
A sacrifice she had known he would never make.
“You are a Royal, K’kadi. It is well known that Royals are notorious for having many women in their lives. It is, in fact, rare that you have only two.”
You accept this?
“Yes.” She must. She would. When she’d first heard what Nik planned for K’kadi, she’d realized where her loyalty lay. Admittedly, a shock. It had taken some time to adjust to something so contrary to what everyone expected. To the startling about-face to what she had thought she wanted.
And yet, relief to know for certain where her heart lay.
K’kadi remained silent, recalling the night of Tycho’s crash, his first sight of Alala poised in the exit, garbed as an ancient Greek warrior, complete with short sword and bow and arrows. His obsessed pursuit of her, her often brutal rejection. The pain. The scolds from Kass and Tal for stalking. The day Talora smiled at him across a cafeteria table on Pegasus. Talora, who did not mind what he was.
Truth was, if he put his mind to it—the mind that was like no other—he could recall the euphoria of first love, resurrect it. He could even manage two women and two families in his life. He was K’kadi Amund, Master Sorcerer. He could do this.
He would.
Smiling gently, K’kadi held out his hand to his wife. All was as it should be. Life was good.
Kraslenka, Regula Prime
Ten days after the rebel victory
As Tal and Rand had hoped, the Reg military on the outer twelve star systems of the Regulon Empire heeded the orders of their high command on Regula Prime, switching their allegiance to Talryn Rigel and Rand Kamal with scarcely a ripple of resistance. After a tense period patrolling the Regulon skies, while keeping an eye on the Hercs as well as the Regs, Captain Alek Rybolt of Tycho was grateful when he was ordered to stand down. And informed he would be the first of the rebel captains to be honored by a ceremony at Kraslenka.
A blessed relief after so many days of tension.
Alek was assigned a suite in the palace which was both larger and more ornate than his rooms at Veranelle. And after thoroughly enjoying a dinner shared with an old friend, who just happened to be the new Emperor of the Regulon Empire (ephemeral as it now was), Alek had no doubt about what came next on his list. Six people had shared the sumptuous meal that night: the Emperor and his wife, Kelan Rigel and Yuliya Kamal. And Dayna. When Alek received his orders, he’d hoped he would see her . . . but he was more than a decade older, she was in mourning . . . and she knew how long he’d mourned Jordana. But there had been so much pain over the years . . . Surely now was the time for healing.
Nothing for it but to give it a try.
Fortunately, after years at Veranelle, Alek was familiar with how palaces operated. He sent for Kraslenka’s majordomo. A few well-chosen words, the surreptitious exchange of a gold coin, and Tycho’s captain had the information he sought.
When he set out on this latest mission, it was past ten o’clock, and the palace, not yet returned to its past frivolous pursuits, was beginning to settle after another grueling day of reorganizing Regula Prime’s system of government. Taking courage in hand, Alek knocked on the door of a suite close to the sumptuous wing of the palace that had been Darroch’s private quarters—hastily cleaned, and now occupied by Emperor Talryn and his Empress, L’ira. As Alek waited, grim-faced, for a response to his knock, he figured he had a fifty-fifty chance of striking out. Maybe sixty-forty. Perhaps she wasn’t even there . . .
Where else would she be? The nights since the invasion were
not a good time to be roaming the streets of Titan.
The door opened. Dayna peered out. “Captain?”
“I thought we agreed on Alek.” He offered a gentle smile and held up a bottle of lunelle, the wall sconce in the corridor highlighting the sparkling blue of the liquid inside. “I know it’s a few days late, but I was hoping you might be willing to celebrate with me.”
Dayna, youngest of Vander Rigel’s children, smiled. And opened the door.
Two weeks after the rebel victory
They were doing it. Standing on the front balcony of the palace, Tal wearing a colorful uniform—royal blue trimmed in red and gold—hastily designed for the new ruler of the Regulon Empire. Kass, the Princess L’ira Faelle Maedan Orlondami Rigel, mindful of K’kadi’s vision from years gone by, wore a long flowing white gown and the most elegant, if not the largest, crown in the royal collection. Tal’s crown was, of course, far more imposing, as was only right.
He was also certain to have the bigger headache. Kass, feeling the awkwardness of balancing the array of gold and sparkling gem stones circling her head, was reminded of the eagerness with which she had left all things royal behind her when she ran off to the Regulon Space Academy. Fizzeting Fizzet! What had they gotten themselves into?
Dutifully, the Emperor and Empress stepped forward, waving to the cheering crowd in park below. They had fought harder than she cared to remember for this moment. And now it was here.
Together—and with the aid of all those who had fought beside them—they would dismantle the empire, rule Regula Prime, and—dare she think it?—live Happily Ever After.
With the arm not waving at the multitude below, Kass reached out and squeezed Tal’s hand. K’kadi had seen this moment. It was right that they were here.
Right for them to bear the burden.
Long live King Talryn and Queen L’ira.
~ ***~
Reviews are always very much appreciated.
About the Author:
Believing variety is the spice of life, I also write Regency Gothics, Regency Historicals, and lighter Regencies in the Jane Austen tradition, as well as Romantic Suspense, Mystery, and Contemporary Romance. (Please see list below.)
The Golden Beach (GB) books are not a classic series. Some have connected characters; others, only a connected setting, a very real Florida Gulf Coast resort and retirement community whose name has been changed because the residents would like to keep its uniqueness a deep, dark secret.
I am always delighted to hear from my readers. I can be contacted at [email protected].
My website: http://www.blairbancroft.com/.
My Facebook Author Page: www.facebook.com/blairbancroftauthor
My blog, with tips on Writing & Editing: https://mosaicmoments.blogspot.com/
Twitter: @blairbancroft
Blue Moon Rising series (in order)
Rebel Princess
Sorcerer’s Bride
The Bastard Prince
Royal Rebellion
The Regency Warrior Series (in order)
The Sometime Bride
Tarleton’s Wife
O’Rourke’s Heiress
Rogue’s Destiny
The Lady Takes a Risk
Regency Gothics
The Blackthorne Curse
Tangled Destinies
The Welshman’s Bride
The Demons of Fenley Marsh
The Mists of Moorhead Manor
Brides of Falconfell
Other Regencies & Historicals
Steeplechase
Lady of the Lock
The Courtesan’s Letters
The Temporary Earl
The Harem Bride
A Season for Love
A Gamble on Love
Lady Silence
Mistletoe Moment
The Captive Heiress (Medieval)
Airborne - The Hanover Restoration (Steampunk)
Regency Darkside (18+)
Belle
Cecilia
Holly
Juliana
Contemporary Mystery/Suspense
Hidden Danger, Hidden Heart
Shadowed Paradise (GB)
Paradise Burning (GB)
The Art of Evil
Death by Marriage (GB)
Orange Blossoms & Mayhem (GB)
Limbo Man
Contemporary Romance
Florida Knight (GB)
Love at Your Own Risk
Royal Rebellion Page 25