When Sig came racing down the hallway with his shirt torn open and his coat so wrinkled it looked like he’d slept in it, Gil assumed the worst. The man’s lost it. He dropped his right hand down to his hip and silently cursed. No weapon and a crazed assassin on the loose.
Yet Sig didn’t say anything at first, merely falling into step with him. He gave Gil a significant look, as though trying to convey a secret to him. Indeed, people passed in the halls and waited at every door, many times offering assistance as though he were lost. It wasn’t an ideal place for any kind of private conversation. No place in Xuanyuan was truly private, not without one of Charlotte’s disruptors to ensure no one was listening.
Speaking of which, Sig might not know about that little tidbit. “We have listeners even in our room. Charlotte found something this morning.”
“Doesn’t surprise me.”
The man strode rapidly, scanning the hallways as though he was looking for someone. He darted to the left and Gil had to hurry his step to keep up. “Where are we going in such a hurry?”
Sig gave him a dubious look as though he ought to know exactly where they were headed. “I need to change my shirt.”
“Oh. You do look like you spent a rough night at a brothel instead of me.”
Sig actually stumbled a step before recovering. “What?”
“Long story. This isn’t the way to our rooms.”
Sig jerked to a halt and looked up and down the hallways. He dragged a hand roughly through his hair that was already partially hanging out of the queue he typically wore. The man definitely looked worse for wear. “Bloody hell.”
“This way.” Gil turned them around and set a slower pace back to the guest quarters. Carefully, he shot a look out of the corner of his eyes at the other man. Unshaven, mussed and twitchy, like he’d had three or four pots of Charlotte’s favorite stout tea. Or maybe he’d just gotten some very bad news.
That thought sent Gil’s nervous gut to a whole new level of anxiety. Now both of them were ready to explode at a moment’s notice, yet he still didn’t know what the threat was or where it would come from.
“Have you seen Charlie this morning?” Sig very carefully didn’t look at him and his tone was cool and distant.
“Yes,” Gil replied equally cautiously.
“She’s well?”
Ah. Some of Gil’s unease relaxed. If the man was worried about her safety and welfare, then they could still work together to ensure her happiness. It wouldn’t be one against the other. “Certainly. Evidently she enjoyed last night immensely. She even promised to introduce me to that same technique as soon as the opportunity presents itself.”
Sig grunted beneath his breath. “You’d be up for that?”
“I’m up for anything she wants to explore. I thought we’d been over that already.”
Still staring carefully ahead, Sig slowed his pace. Their rooms were at the end of the hall. Between suites, they hadn’t encountered a servant yet, though there was likely at least one person waiting on them in the rooms. “It’s not just me, then.”
“She enjoyed it,” Gil repeated. “If she’s enjoying it, then I will too.”
“But you don’t need…pain.”
Gil shrugged. “I need her. Period. If that means a little pain, I’m eager for it.”
Pausing, Sig leaned against the wall casually, but his face was tight and hard, his jaws so clenched it took him a moment to speak. “The bruises scare the hell out of me. I don’t want to do that again.”
Gil edged closer, blocking the way back to the main aisle with his larger body to give the illusion of privacy. “She didn’t seem to mind.”
“I mind,” Sig retorted, jerking his fingers through his hair again. “I don’t want to hurt her. I’d rather leave now than ever see anything happen to her.” He finally risked a glance up into Gil’s face, surprising him with the intensity. Again, that sense of a double message. She’s in trouble and he feels guilty about that, but he can’t say anything directly about it. Who’s gotten to him? “You have to keep her safe. I’m trusting you with her life.”
“I shall,” Gil answered calmly, carefully watching for other signs. The man’s torn shirt sagged open, revealing the red lashes she’d left on his skin. A strange feeling swept over him, making him avert his eyes. Not jealousy this time, but something much more alarming and foreign. He had the distinct longing to touch those marks and see what else she’d done to Sig.
To cover his reaction, Gil forced out a joke. “How much worse does your back look?”
Sig stared down at his chest and snorted. “So that’s what Cixi was looking at.” Then he averted his face too, but out of the corner of his eye Gil noted the flush spreading across Sig’s cheeks. Not wholly embarrassment, either, but the flush of desire at the memory of what she’d done. “Make sure Charlie visits Oblivion tomorrow.”
Gil froze, focusing on the man’s face to make sure he didn’t miss a single clue. “Tomorrow?”
“At the latest. I believe an old friend may want to make our lady’s acquaintance again.”
His stomach pitched, emphasizing the sudden flood of dread. It had to be Queen Majel. How’d she find out where they were? “I’ll be sure to escort her personally.” He hesitated a moment, watching the way Sig still refused to meet his gaze. “You’ll be joining us.”
Sig’s mouth tightened, his nostrils flaring as though he’d sucked in a hard breath. Pain. This is tearing him apart. “I think not. I have little care for social engagements and I’ve made a prior commitment. I’m expected to be present to meet our old friend and she’ll be overwrought if one of us doesn’t come to meet her.”
“How?” Gil asked softly, pitching his voice so low no one could possibly overhear without extreme magnification. “How’d she find us? How’d she get to you?”
“Remind our lady of her aid that lives inside me. That’s all I can say.”
Gil gripped the other man’s arm, squeezing hard enough Sig flinched. “What do I tell Charlotte? Because she’s not going to accept this. She’s not going to let you go.”
“She must,” Sig ground out, jerking his arm free to stride furiously down the hall to their rooms. “Get her out of here, Masters, and above all, keep her the hell away from me. I’ll come to her when I can.”
But those words rang hollowly in Gil’s ears. He doesn’t think he’s going to survive this.
Stretching the kinks out of her back, Charlotte waited for the DNA comparison to complete. It’d been running quite a long time, longer than she’d expected. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, she supposed, although in this case she expected quite a number of components to be flagged between the two samples. Interspecies matings were nearly impossible to pull off, but somehow they must have managed to accomplish the impossible because the very inhuman-looking dragon carried human DNA.
Now she needed to prove the Tongzhi Emperor carried dragon DNA. Although she still didn’t know exactly what that information gained her.
The crew manning the servers had changed at least twice since she’d been allowed access to the Zijin mainframe. Prince Gong had remained at the helm the entire time, hovering at her shoulder and completing small tasks for her without question or hesitation. He’d had a note delivered to Dowager Empress Cixi along with a small scanner, which she immediately agreed to use in order to have her son quietly scanned.
Running a few diagnostics on her datapad while the main comparison processed, Charlotte couldn’t find anything significantly wrong with the young man. He bore residues of opium from his favorite brothel, but he hadn’t contracted any diseases, sexually transmitted or otherwise. Yet his blood count was definitely low and his organs weren’t functioning at full capacity. It was as though he suffered from anemia and malnutrition, even though his iron and mineral counts were within the normal range. He wasn’t thriving as a young man in his prime should. In fact, she was fairly certain that his health was failing alarmingly fast.
At this r
ate, he wouldn’t be alive to see the New Year, and she had no idea why.
The viewscreen beeped, making both of them jump. Charlotte immediately sat, with a quick warning look to make sure Prince Gong wasn’t trying to read the results over her shoulder. Not that much of this would make sense to anyone but a scientist, unless he knew about proteins and genetic sequencing.
As she’d suspected, the dragon and the Emperor were related. At some point in the past, they’d descended from the same ancestry. The Imperial line had been founded on some inhuman DNA. Throughout the palaces, those symbols of the very strange-looking dragon with horns and five claws were an homage to that ancient legendary pairing.
Yet she still didn’t know exactly what was wrong with either of them.
The dragon’s lethargy she could blame on old age. Not knowing its physiology or typical life span, she could only assume the beast was near a natural death. But why was the young Emperor suffering from general malady at the same time? Could one’s health affect the other? There might be clues in the journal Cixi had referenced. If there’d been similar recorded situations in the past, then surely she would have used that information to her advantage.
Although she could be using that information…as she was using Charlotte. Perhaps Cixi didn’t like the alternative presented in that journal.
Disconnecting her datapad, she allowed her mind to churn without direction. Most of the time, the facts were already there. The truth lay hidden by too much data. If she allowed her mind to chew and work on the details without consciously directing her thoughts, she often found the solution solidified quicker than if she tried to force the image to clarify.
Prince Gong took her arm and escorted her from the room. Absently, she allowed him to lead the way. She wasn’t sure where she needed to go yet. She had nothing new for Cixi. She might visit the dragon again but in all honesty, she wasn’t sure what that would accomplish. Unless she had a specific test to run, she’d already performed the basic diagnostics.
“You seem troubled,” Prince Gong said. “Did you not find what you were looking for?”
“Not exactly.” She sighed. “I’m missing something. It’s probably as obvious as the nose on my face, but right now, I’m oblivious to it.”
“I know you’ve been discussing something with the Dowager Empress, but is there something I might help you with?”
It wasn’t a bad idea. She forgot sometimes that Zijin had long been a patriarchal society, which made Cixi’s victory in keeping her power all the more miraculous. There might be tradition and information that only a man in power might have access to.
Prince Gong’s the Emperor’s uncle.
That thought rang like a gong in her head, drawing her up short. She looked up at him. “May I run a quick scan on you for comparison purposes?”
He inclined his head and held his arms out in a welcoming gesture. “Be my guest.”
She laid the small box against his chest. “Here, hold this and be still. It’ll only take a few moments.” He obliged, freeing her hands so she could retrieve the datapad and scan the results. This time she didn’t have to do a full DNA analysis. She only had to look for a specific abnormality she’d already identified.
He was descended from the same dragon ancestry.
Even more importantly, the prince’s readings confirmed that he was a healthy man in his prime. Older, certainly, than the Emperor, but all of his health indicators were high and positive. Going on his health readings alone, Prince Gong should have been the next Emperor of Zijin.
She’d grown up in the midst of the most brutal political game in the universe. Health or even sanity was never a condition for taking power. Ancestry, yes; existing familial power, certainly. Wealth and privilege, unfortunate but true.
“I’m curious, Your Majesty, why you supported the young Emperor’s claim to the throne instead of taking power yourself. You certainly could have made such a claim, instead of supporting the Dowager Empresses. In fact, I surmise you would have faced much less opposition.”
Prince Gong resumed walking, although at a much slower pace. She didn’t press him for answers, merely waiting while he found the words he wished to share. After several long moments, he finally spoke. “I’m not suited to rule, my lady. I’ve never wanted that responsibility.”
“But the security of the entire system is currently your responsibility. Surely that’s even more concerning than just signing laws and making public appearances.”
“In many ways, it is more responsibility, but those duties I can accomplish well. It’s the politics of rule that I care little for. I’m a man of action, and I have little patience for the complexities of compromise and negotiations.”
Charlotte phrased her next words carefully, even though for once, no one followed them. She didn’t know where the listening devices were or who waited on the other side, hoping to trap her by her own words in insult or treason. “Surely an extremely young man without any worldly knowledge is ill-suited for those responsibilities.”
Prince Gong lowered his voice as well. “Indeed, but he has two very strong and capable ladies behind him who relish just such word wars. They support and smooth the way for him to make his rule as successful as possible.”
“What did they offer you?”
He arched a brow at her bluntness, but admitted, “Travel. I wouldn’t be bound to the throne and duties. Once his rule is solidified, I’ll be free to travel as I’ve always wished. My first stop shall be the great city of Londonium, assuming your Queen doesn’t try to assimilate us.”
The emptiness of the hallway struck her as odd. They’d never been so very alone before, even in the most secure areas housing the Xuanyuan servers. Distracted by the interesting puzzle in her mind, she’d been oblivious to the zinging energy pulsing in her blood. Now that warning hummed inside her mind, urging her that danger was close.
Edging toward the wall so she had some protection at her back, she rummaged around in her reticule until her fingers closed around the right item. She pulled out a lacy fan and unfurled it. It wasn’t much to her personal taste, but it was at least pink. If she were in Londonium, everyone would be staring at her in shock for she’d long ridiculed the ladies who insisted on fluttering their eyelashes over the rippled edges, yet Prince Gong didn’t even look at the fan twice.
Suspicion nagged her despite his seemingly open and congenial manner. What if he’d deliberately taken her to some secluded area of the palace just so he could kill her?
“Even if something were to happen to His Majesty, nothing could convince me to take the throne.” Halting in the middle of the hall, he turned to face her. “Not even if every male heir but me is deemed unsuitable. I’ll never be Emperor.” His eyes narrowed with consideration. “What’s wrong?”
She laid a hand on his sleeve and widened her eyes in a hopefully beseeching manner to appeal to his patriarchal arrogance. “I’m afraid Her Majesty might punish me severely for failing her.”
“You’ve done so much for Zijin already that I sincerely believe you have nothing to fear, Lady Wyre. But how may I be of assistance?”
Keep your enemies close. To that end, she fluttered the fan flirtatiously and left her hand on his arm, squeezing lightly to keep his attention. “Can you tell me more about the dragon legends associated with the Emperor?”
Surprise flickered through his eyes, but he complied readily enough. “Have you heard about the Yellow Emperor?” At her nod, he continued. “They say that the next Emperor could actually transform into a dragon. Down through the ages, those stories have become more and more fantastical, until he supposedly tamed a wild dragoness to his hand and sired a whole line of Imperial dragon princes to rule Zijin through the ages.”
She smiled and tapped his chest lightly with the fan. “Not so fantastical, Your Highness.”
He started to laugh, but when she merely arched a brow, he hesitated. “You’re serious.”
“You bear the proof yourself.”
> “What does that mean?”
“You aren’t fully human.”
His eyes flared wide and he opened his mouth, but he didn’t actually speak. He couldn’t. He just stared at her like she’d suddenly sprouted a second head. Or as though he might sprout wings and scales himself.
His eyes flickered upward, drawn by some whisper or creak she hadn’t heard, but it was enough of a warning. She flatted against the wall and depressed the button at the base of the fan. A three-inch glass blade shot out, insignificant in the face of an assassin attack, but with careful placement, she’d more than be able to protect herself.
Prince Gong pushed closer, covering her against the wall with his own body. Guilt suffused her. After all her doubts, now he was the only thing between her and a possible assassination. His shoulders were too big to see around, and then he was bearing her down to the ground, his breath rushing out in a grunt of pain.
“Bloody hell, Your Highness, you’ve gone and gotten yourself wounded, and now I’m trapped beneath you. It’s going to be much more difficult for me to save us now.”
He choked out a laugh. “Forgive me, my lady. I’m not used to having damsels in distress save themselves.”
She’d lost her reticule in the fall, and she wouldn’t have time to rummage around and find the shield anyway. With a sigh, she reached up and touched the heart-shaped locket that helped keep Sig alive. “Never mind. I have a few surprises tucked away for just such an emergency.” Although she hadn’t intended to reveal her most exciting new toy so quickly.
She pressed the back of the locket. A sound wave detonated, vibrating the floor beneath them. Something crashed, glass exploded and painful sound throbbed through her head. It wasn’t loud, not exactly, and she couldn’t even say exactly what she heard. It was the frequency that counted. She’d fine-tuned the wave to minimize the impact on her own ears, but it was still much more painful than she’d expected.
Lord Regret's Price: A Jane Austen Space Opera, Book 3 Page 17