The Commander's Captive_A sci fi romance

by Alix Nichols

  He needed more people like Mahabmet. He’d been under the impression that Commander Heidd was cut from the same cloth as the judge.

  But for reasons he couldn’t quite pinpoint, he was beginning to doubt.

  12

  He’d said a trustworthy friend.

  Turned out that among Nyssa’s dozens of buddies, classmates, and pals, Lady Marye Atiz was the only one she could call trustworthy without hesitation or reservation.

  And so, Marye was invited to drop by the Heidd residence because Dame Heidd wanted to pick her brain about a sensitive matter. Intrigued, she accepted immediately, sending back a note that she’d be there as requested at three tomorrow afternoon.

  Of all the pleasant and private places inside and outside the house where she could be on a sunny Late-Summer afternoon, Nyssa was in the kitchens when Marye arrived, in the “potion-making” part, to be exact.

  And that wasn’t even the worst of it.

  Of all the fun things she could be doing on a Sixth-day, she was lending a hand to the hag. The old woman had mobilized all the available servants already, but even with that, she was running late. A courier was expected in less than an hour to transport her next batch to the Healers’ hospital. The old woman was racing against the clock.

  A puss-pox epidemic had broken out in Iltaqa, attacking children and adults alike. Apparently, Dame Heidd’s salves were part of the treatment regimen the healer vestals found to be the most effective. The beeswax and other ingredients in them drew out the puss and helped the spots heal without marking the skin. The demand for the salve was huge, given the spread of the disease, and Dame Heidd struggled to keep up.

  Begrudgingly, Nyssa had offered her help.

  The hag had resentfully accepted it.

  When Marye wandered into the kitchens, Nyssa stood at the central counter, concentrating on her task. Sandwiched between Wadinnie and the cook, she worked as fast as she could, filling little jars with salve and sealing them.

  The other two women ripped lengths of gauze fabric into smaller strips and squares.

  At first, Marye just stared at all of them, engrossed in their frantic activity. Out of the corner of her eye, Nyssa could see her watching them, an amused surprise in her bespectacled eyes. She hadn’t yet realized that one of Dame Heidd’s helpers was her friend Nyssa, fresh out of the Sebi family sepulcher. Ta-da!

  Suddenly, Marye’s mouth fell open.

  Her gaze drilled into Nyssa’s face, and she took a few steps toward the counter. “N… N… Nyssa? It can’t be… How is it possible? You… Here… Is it you?”

  Without interrupting her work, Nyssa glanced at her and grinned.

  “Sweet Aheya above, it is you!” Marye shouted, and then her arms were around Nyssa, hugging her tight.

  “Easy.” Nyssa giggled. “You’ll strangle me.”

  Marye let go of her and drew back. “Unbelievable. You have a lot of explaining to do, girlfriend. I can’t wait!”

  “If you give us a hand with this stuff, you’ll wait less.”

  Marye turned to the hag. “Are these for healer vestals, Dame Heidd?”

  The old woman nodded.

  “May I help you?”

  “Wash your hands first.”

  “I’ll take it as a yes,” Marye muttered, heading to the sink.

  An hour later, Nyssa took Marye to her room and offered up a dose of the vaccine to the truth serum. It was a precaution Jancel had insisted on, seeing as no one outside of the Heidd residence was supposed to know Nyssa was alive. Marye gulped the vaccine down without a complaint. After that, the two of them ambled about the garden as Nyssa told Marye about her last year.

  “Unbelievable,” Marye kept saying.

  She asked questions, squeezed Nyssa’s hand, and hugged her warmly during the toughest parts of her story.

  It was while unburdening herself that Nyssa fully realized how much she’d needed it. For the first time in over a year, she was sharing the ordeal she’d been through. And not just with anyone, but with a trusted friend. With someone from Nyssa’s old, forever-gone life in which she had wonderful doting parents, an adored brother, and countless friends and admirers. A life she hadn’t appreciated enough.

  “Are you content here in Commander Heidd’s house?” Marye asked when she finished her tale. “Do they treat you well?”

  Nyssa picked a red apple from a tree they were passing and offered it to Marye. “Don’t repeat this in front of them, but the Heidds have been very kind to me. Even the old hag. I want for nothing, and I’m given as much freedom as possible, considering.”

  “I’m so happy to hear your life here is good, considering.”

  “What about your life?” Nyssa halted and pivoted toward Marye. “How’s Lord Atiz?”

  “Father is in good health, thank you.”

  “Has he remarried?”

  Marye shook her head. “I doubt he ever will.”

  “And what about you? Are you seeing someone?”

  An odd look flashed in Marye’s eyes.

  “My goodness, you are!” Nyssa grabbed her friend’s hand, excited. “The Bookworm finally took a break from the book world and got herself a boyfriend! Who is he? Do I know him?”

  Marye looked down. “Don’t be mad, but I can’t tell you.”

  “You’re keeping it hush-hush, is that it?” Nyssa narrowed her eyes. “If I didn’t know you well enough, I would’ve suspected an affair with a married man…”

  “I’d never! It isn’t that.”

  “Are you waiting to be sure of your feelings or have you consummated the relationship?” Nyssa asked with a wink.

  There was bitterness in Marye’s smile. “Oh, it’s consummated, all right.”

  “Why is it a secret then?”

  “I’m sorry.” Marye released a heavy sigh. “I can’t tell you.”

  Suddenly, it hit Nyssa. “Weren’t you into your best friend Geru Gokk? You always refused to admit it, but I remember how you looked at him. And I wasn’t the only one to notice it.”

  Marye pulled her hand out of Nyssa’s grip and marched on.

  “It’s him!” Nyssa caught up with her. “That’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you.”

  Marye didn’t look at her.

  “Why keep it a secret?” Nyssa asked. “Is there a reason he doesn’t want people to know about you two?”

  “It’s complicated,” Marye finally said.

  “Can’t be more complicated than my situation. Trust me, I can handle complicated.”

  “There’s someone…” Marye rubbed her forehead. “He has feelings for someone else.”

  Nyssa stopped in her tracks. “What a jerk! He’s double-timing you.”

  “No! It isn’t like that.” Marye gave her a pleading look. “Geru isn’t double-timing anyone. I told you it was complicated.”

  She pushed her chin up and started walking again.

  Clearly, she wasn’t going to say more on the subject. She isn’t ready.

  Nyssa hung her head. “I’m sorry, Mar. It was insensitive of me to push you like that. You’ll tell me when—if—you feel like it. And if you don’t, I’ll just have to handle not knowing. I’ve gotten pretty good at that, too.”

  In response, Marye gave her a grateful smile.

  Footsteps sounded from behind the rose bushes. Firm, decisive, and paced just so. Jancel’s. A moment later, he stood next to them, still in uniform but without the cap, making small talk with Marye.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” Nyssa asked him.

  “I took the afternoon off.”

  She stared at him. He stared back.

  Marye looked from one to the other. “It was very kind of you to let me visit Nyssa, Commander Heidd.”

  “My pleasure.” He finally turned to her. “Did you take the vaccine? It’s just—”

  “I took it,” she said. “I completely understand.”

  “Good.”

  “I should be going.”

  “I’ll
drive you back to Iltaqa,” Jancel said.

  “There’s no need.” She glanced at her expensive watch. “My carriage must be at your gate now. I’d told the driver to return by five.”

  Jancel nodded.

  “May I visit again soon?” Marye asked.

  “Anytime. Just send a note to my mother.” Jancel tilted his head to the side and surveyed Marye. “You’re close to the Gokks, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.” She scrunched her face. “Why?”

  “Can you warn them to be extra careful?”

  “Are they in danger?”

  “Ultek is on to them,” Jancel said. “I can’t be sure, but he might even suspect them of supporting an underground group that calls itself the ‘Association.’ ”

  Marye started at the word but composed herself so quickly Nyssa couldn’t be sure she hadn’t imagined it.

  “He’s working to track its members down,” Jancel said. “If the Gokks are involved, they should sever all ties. Any compromising evidence in the house or in Sir Gokk’s factories should be destroyed immediately. I’ll give you a vial of the truth serum vaccine for them.”

  “I’ll relay your message and make sure they take the vaccine,” Marye said. “Without telling them who it’s from, right?”

  “Right.”

  Marye bid them farewell a few minutes later.

  Forbidden from approaching the gate, Nyssa waited behind the rose bushes for Jancel, who’d gone to fetch a vial and see Marye out, to come back.

  Will he try to kiss me again? she wondered watching the sun dip behind the hills.

  Her center pulled at the memory of yesterday’s kiss, and her hand went to her mouth, tracing her lips. She forced it down.

  Tough shit. A kiss like that wasn’t going to happen again. Ever.

  When Jancel returned by her side, there was an urgency in his eyes that made Nyssa’s inner muscles clench even harder.

  Damn him! Couldn’t he be less intense, less virile, and hard-bodied? Less… man?

  Couldn’t he be more like Boggond?

  He took a step toward her. “Nyssa…”

  She hugged herself and drew back, turning her side to him.

  He halted. “I see.”

  “It was one kiss for one visit,” she said. “You didn’t ask for more when you told Marye she could come back. You can’t negotiate after the fact.”

  “I’m aware of that.” His voice was low, defeated. “I was hoping…”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  She relaxed a little, smelled a rose, and turned toward him.

  His stared at her face, his gaze hungry, caressing her features, lingering on her eyes. He didn’t bother to conceal what he wanted.

  If only he was someone else—a tramp, a thief, a stable boy, the last bum on Hente, anyone!

  She’d have given herself to him. She’d have begged him to take her if he’d hesitated. But he was who he was—Boggond’s dog.

  “I’m going crazy with want, Nyssa.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You feel the same way. We both know it. Yet you deny me. You deny both of us.”

  She said nothing.

  He looked down at his feet before lifting his eyes to her. “I’m not proud of myself for doing this, but… I’d like to offer another barter.”

  She cocked her head.

  “An exchange of favors, if you will,” he said.

  “What would be your favor?”

  “Information. Something important.”

  “And mine?”

  “You’ll strip naked and take a shower in the bathhouse while I watch.” He paused before adding, “I’ll watch from inside the bathhouse.”

  Ooh. Her heart fluttered wildly. That exact situation was often the first chapter in her nighttime fantasies. She’d be naked in the bathhouse. He’d step in and watch her. And then they’d have sex. Wet, hot, delicious sex.

  She took a calming breath and arched a brow. “That’s one big favor, Commander.”

  “Dire circumstances call for dire measures.”

  “How important is your intel? And when will I get it?”

  “Extremely important.” He gave her a slightly mischievous, breathtakingly sexy look. “You’ll have it the day after you uphold your end of the deal.”

  If he kept looking at her like that, she might head to the bathhouse right that instant.

  Nyssa blew out air through her cheeks, annoyed at that thought.

  He’s with the bad guys, remember? He’s one of them.

  “It’s been cloudy the last few days,” she said. “The water in the rooftop tank won’t be warm enough for a shower.”

  He looked… relieved?

  Nyssa frowned, confused by his reaction.

  “If that’s your main concern,” he said, “it’s a non-issue. I’ll have buckets of hot water fetched from the furnace and added to the tank until the water is warm enough for you.”

  Her cheeks heating, Nyssa realized she should’ve objected to stripping naked before him. Or at least to his being inside the bathhouse while he watched her. But it was too late now.

  “Fine,” she said.

  His eyes lit up. “The bargain is on?”

  “Yes, Commander.” She smirked. “It’s on.”

  13

  That he still hadn’t told Nyssa her brother was alive, two days after she’d taken the vaccine, and a full day since Areg had been continuously conscious, bothered Jancel.

  It didn’t just bother him—it embarrassed him.

  But no matter. He’d grown used to living with shame.

  He’d tell her first thing tomorrow morning as soon as she woke up in his arms, he promised himself as he marched toward the bathhouse.

  He had big plans for tonight.

  An hour earlier, he’d taken a glass of his strongest rum and changed into a casual shirt and slacks. Then he’d gone to the furnace room for his first load of steaming hot water. He was carrying the last two buckets at present.

  He had granted Wadinnie, Memeen, and most other servants the evening off so the job of filling the rooftop tank with hot water had fallen to him.

  As it happened, he was glad for it. Fetching water kept him productively occupied. The alternative would’ve been pacing his room restlessly, glancing at the clock and his watch every two minutes.

  When the tank was full, he took off his shoes and stepped inside the bathhouse. Scanning the space for the best observation post, he picked a spot by the wall between the door and the shower.

  Nyssa arrived a few minutes later at six sharp.

  She fingered a bracelet on her wrist. “Where is Wadinnie?”

  He leaned on the wall. “She’s off tonight.”

  “Ah.” Nyssa went to the opposite wall and leaned on it. “What about Dame Heidd? What if she wanders into this part of the garden?”

  “Mother’s helping out at the Healers’ hospital. She’ll take a cab home around ten.”

  Nyssa nodded, her hand clutching the golden ouroboros around her neck.

  Was she nervous about this?

  Had she agreed to the barter because she needed a “legitimate” excuse to be with him as he’d hoped since her revelations during the vaccine test? Or was she forcing herself for the sake of the important information he’d promised?

  Jancel froze as a new thought struck him.

  If the latter was the case, how was he different from Ultek? How was he a good man? He thought of himself as Nyssa’s protector, but there was no denying he was also her captor. The only power she held, underneath her defiance and tantrums, was to not give herself to him willingly. Him—he held the power of life and death over her.

  Was he abusing that power now?

  One of the many unflattering epithets Nyssa treated him to when she raged was “monster.”

  Had he really become one?

  Clenching his fists, he stared her in the eye. “We don’t need to go through with this. I’ll give you the information anyway.”

  She b
unched her eyebrows.

  “I will.” He nodded for emphasis, shame heating his ears. “Right now, right here. Because—”

  “No.”

  He shut his mouth and searched her face.

  “A deal is a deal.” She curled her lip. “Besides, all that water you carried, and the staff you sent away… It would be a shame to let all of that effort go to waste.”

  “If you’re concerned I’ll hold this against you—” he began again.

  “I’m not.” Her voice was firm, and her expression businesslike. “So. Let’s get on with it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “One hundred percent.”

  His heart soared with joy.

  She wants this.

  He pointed to the faucet. “Will you check if the water is warm enough?”

  She ran some over her fingers. “It’s fine.”

  “I’m glad.”

  They stared at each other.

  She stepped out of her clogs, pulled her shirt over her head, and slid her pants down. The underwear came off just as quickly.

  Her undressing was deliberately not seductive. She was telling him, I promised to strip naked, but I didn’t promise to apply myself.

  It didn’t matter. He was being seduced anyway. How could he not at the sight of her body—firm and shapely and infinitely desirable—bared for his starved eyes?

  His gaze caressed her face, her neck, her shoulders, and lingered on her breasts, committing their shape to memory. He tried to find a word for the color of her nipples and areola. Rosewood? Like her lips, just muted. His fingers itched to touch them.

  Not until she asks me.

  Because she would. It wasn’t just the secrets she’d confessed under the truth serum that gave him that certainty. It was the way her face flushed as she turned on the spray. The way her eyes darkened when she stepped under it and looked at him over her shoulder. The way her tongue darted out to wet her lips while her gaze slid to the bulge in his slacks.

  He crossed his left ankle over his right, feeling unusually relaxed. His headache, which had returned briefly after his latest meeting with Boggond, was gone. His mind was clear, perfectly focused on the one thing that had become the center of his universe—Nyssa’s shaved mound.