Saber transformed again. “We need to learn the identity of the servant, determine if he works for the Dearbhorgaills.”
“Tell me about the audience with the king.”
Saber ran through the series of events while they waited for their transport to arrive.
The captain nodded. “And if you prove the Dearbhorgaills were behind this too, they’ll be sent to prison.”
The security transport appeared and settled on the road outside the pub. Two underlings secured the kid while the captain handed Saber his clothes.
Saber donned them rapidly.
“We’ll arrange for the kid to make the meet tomorrow and identify the servant. I’ll send word. If you’ve already left for the palace, I’ll make sure I’m there myself to give a verbal statement.”
“Thank you,” Saber said.
“If you’re interested in a job, I have one with your name on it,” the captain said.
“Thanks, but I live on Tiraq. Have a business there with my family.”
“Offer’s there if you ever return to Dalcon,” the captain said easily and shook Saber’s hand.
He saw them off before heading to Eva’s home, pleased with his night’s work. The Dearbhorgaills would rue the moment they’d decided to go after Eva. He’d make sure of it.
* * * * *
Eva woke up with Saber curled around her, warm and solid. She hadn’t heard him return.
“You’re awake,” he said, tugging a lock of her hair, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.
“Did you get him?”
“We did.” Satisfaction coated his tone. “A servant hired him to do the job. The captain and I are confident we can tie him to the Dearbhorgaills.”
“Good.”
“How is your arm?”
She flexed it, braced for jagged pain—and felt nothing. “It’s fine,” she said in surprise. She sat up and unfastened the bandage covering the wound. She blinked. Instead of the angry wound she’d expected, the skin had knit together, the wound of the previous night reduced to tight pink skin. “It’s almost healed! I don’t understand.” She turned to Saber. “How?”
He drew her into his arms and ran his fingers over her hair. “Remember when I bit your neck and this cat tattoo appeared?” His finger drifted down to press against the spot.
“Yes.” Eva gasped at the pleasure generated by his touch.
“Enzymes from my bite have entered your bloodstream. I need to consult with my mother, but I’m pretty sure that’s why you’ve healed so well. You’re my mate, Eva.”
“Because you bit me?”
“Because my feline and I both wanted you—recognized you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We’ll talk as soon as we’ve dealt with the Dearbhorgaills.”
Eva’s new com-circle buzzed and she scrambled from the bed to pluck it off the nightstand. “Yes?”
“Ms. Henry, this is Turlow, the king’s head courtier. His majesty will see you at noon when he intends to rule on your petition. I will notify the guards at the palace gate.”
“Should I bring my assistant with me?”
“Not unless you wish it. The king has already heard his testimony, but you may bring one person to stand at your side.”
Someone for moral support. “Thank you.”
“Noon, Ms. Henry. Do not be late.”
* * * * *
Saber escorted her into the palace a few minutes prior to noon. Eva had chosen her clothing carefully, dressing in a light blue gown that molded to her body and made her feel confident.
A young courtier led them to a different part of the palace, where Turlow waited for them.
“Good. You’re here,” he said. “This way.”
Eva and Saber entered the chamber after Turlow. This one was plainer, with white walls and white tiles on the floor. While the space was large, there were no windows in this room.
Several male clerks dressed in black robes sat at desks, with genic tabs and other administration equipment sitting in front of them. Beyond them, there was a seating area with not a spare seat to be seen, since they were all filled with lords and ladies—those from the elite Dalcon ruling class, the caste that was a step below royalty. There was a flurry of whispers as Eva entered the room. When Saber stalked in behind her, the whispers increased to a muted rush of excitement.
“Sit over here,” Turlow instructed.
“This is a travesty, I tell you.”
“Sounds as if your in-laws have arrived,” Saber said in an undertone as the comments from those present became more audible.
“A disgrace.”
“Unfounded accusations.”
“Lies from a guttersnipe.”
“Do you think they killed their son?”
Eva glanced at the Dearbhorgaills and saw they were dressed in their best clothes. Lord Loeiz wore a gray pinstripe suit, cut to the trim lines of his body. His black shoes shone so brightly Eva was certain a person would be able to use them for a looking glass. Jewels winked from the timepiece at his wrist and a large blue stone the same cool blue as his eyes glinted from his left ear. Lady Almeda wore bright orange, which contrasted with her long black hair styled in a complicated coronet on top of her head. A somber man, also dressed in black, stood at their side, a colorless spar-bird outclassed by two of the titled caste.
“Take your seats,” Turlow ordered in a stern tone. “The king will arrive shortly.”
Lord Loeiz drew himself up, contempt almost covering the faint tinge of embarrassment creeping into his cheeks. “She’s a liar and a cheat. I don’t know why the king is putting us through this travesty. It’s clear she’s jealous of our position in Dalcon society and wants to drag us through the same muck she inhabits.”
“Still trying to use their position to cover their guilt,” Saber whispered close to her ear. Eva caught his scent, a combination of wood, citrus and spices, as complicated as the man. Complex and exciting and very attractive. So sexy, and the things he did with her, to her…
He pulled away, shot her an amused, curious look that made her realize she was distracted. She couldn’t afford to daydream. Not now.
“Hopefully the king thinks the same,” Eva whispered back. Straightening, she pressed her spine against the back of her chair. At her side, Saber chuckled, and she found her own lips curving.
Footsteps sounded and the men at the door straightened to attention. “All stand,” Turlow intoned.
Everyone stood, and the king strode into the room, his official blue robes rustling with each step. He sat on his throne and surveyed the Dearbhorgaills, then her and Saber.
“All sit,” Turlow ordered.
“Good, good. Everyone is here,” the king said. “I have studied the documentation given to me yesterday, as well as the results of the court’s own thorough investigation. Before I inform you of my decision, is there anything either of you wish to add?”
“Yes,” Lord Loeiz snarled. “This is all hearsay. The charges are unfounded.”
“Not according to my investigation.” The king’s implacable tone set the audience whispering in excitement. “Everything appears as Ms. Henry stated. If anything, it seems her reports have been conservative in nature. Do you have anything to add, Ms. Henry?”
Saber gave her an encouraging nod, and she stood. “Last night an attempt was made on my life while we were walking home from my restaurant. The security force was able to capture the culprit and take his statement. Captain Jarvis has given me his com contact, should you wish to speak with him. He wanted to be here to give his report in person but has been called away on another case.”
“Who was responsible?” the king asked.
“Lady Almeda Dearbhorgaill hired and paid the young male to shoot me,” Eva said, letting her anger bleed into her tone. She winged disdain in their direction, her disgust at their duplicitous natures. They’d killed their own son—not directly, but by association, and frying fungus, they were going to pay for their c
rimes.
“That’s a wicked lie!” Lady Almeda cried, two spots of hectic color appearing on her cheeks at the open speculation from her peers in the audience.
Eva handed over the captain’s written report to Turlow. “The report contains full details of the incident.”
“You don’t appear injured to me,” Lord Loeiz said in a snooty voice. “Are you sure this isn’t yet another fabrication designed to cast us in a bad light?”
Eva rolled up the long sleeve of her blue gown to reveal a white bandage around her arm, giving a theatrical wince. “It’s still very painful. The captain of the security force was there. He saw the blood.”
The king remained silent, but the lords and ladies seated in the room stirred and exchanged comments in undertones, the burst of sound resembling the passage of the wind through jungle trees.
“Quiet,” Turlow roared.
The room fell silent, but Eva could feel the bursts of curiosity, the greedy speculation.
“I will read this report,” the king decided.
Eva ripped her gaze off the audience and strived to calm the bubble of nerves in her gut. It hit her, then, how things would go if the king decided for the Dearbhorgaills. Despite his earlier words, it could happen. Then she’d have nothing, no other recourse.
She’d have to leave Dalcon, start afresh.
Maybe she should do that anyway. Go with Saber…
But what of the future? Her future? Saber said they were mates. He hadn’t looked at other women since they’d arrived on Dalcon, but that might change. Eva bore no illusions about her appearance. On a good day, she might attract attention from the opposite sex.
She wasn’t sure she could face that—going with Saber and losing him to another woman. Losing Pryce had been bad enough, and they’d been more like friends. Saber…
Saber was different.
Even though they hadn’t known each other long, she felt so much more for Saber. Something touched her thigh and she glanced down to see Saber’s hand. She curled her fingers with his, and her inner turmoil subsided.
It didn’t matter what happened in the end. She was doing her best to right a wrong. If she failed today, she’d come up with another plan and eventually she’d prevail. Pryce’s parents would go down and—
“I have come to a decision,” the king said.
Murmurs filled the room again.
Turlow bristled and clapped his hands together. “Silence!”
Saber’s fingers tightened around hers, and she gave him a stiff nod. She tried a smile but it wobbled on her lips and wouldn’t stick. She gave up and simply lifted her head to stare at the king.
“I have read the damning evidence presented to me by Ms. Henry—”
“She didn’t even take the Dearbhorgaill name,” Lord Loeiz snapped.
Lady Almeda sniffed. “She knew better.”
The king ignored their outbursts, and waved at Turlow when he would have shouted for silence. “Lord and Lady Dearbhorgaill have engaged in a series of vicious bullying tactics against Eva Henry. This state of affairs began when Ms. Henry became involved with Pryce Dearbhorgaill, and has escalated since his death. I have signed proof from several sources—and the court’s research provided the probable reason for this plot against Eva Henry.”
The whispers and low comments grew louder as the king continued with his summation of the crimes and their possible causes.
“They did that?”
“Shame on them!”
“I can’t believe it. They’re titled.”
“It’s all lies.”
“Quiet in the room,” Turlow said when the noise became too distracting for the king to continue. “I will eject anyone who breaks silence.”
The king continued. “The Dearbhorgaills have lived beyond their means for some time and were dependent on Pryce Dearbhorgaill to support their lifestyle. This is fact supported by financial inquiry. I personally believe they grew greedy and wanted more of Pryce’s money. They mistakenly surmised killing their son would net them his estate. But Pryce married Ms. Henry, and together, they built a successful empire. Lord and Lady Dearbhorgaills have become increasingly desperate for currency to meet their needs and after learning their son left everything to his wife upon his death, they’ve continued to undermine Ms. Henry at every turn in an attempt to see her businesses fail. Last night, they paid someone to kill her.”
“Lies!” Lord Loeiz cried.
Eva noticed Lady Almeda didn’t comment, but she caught the flicker of fear on the woman’s face, followed by the loathing in the glare her mother-in-law sent her way.
“We loaned her money to purchase her third restaurant,” Lord Loeiz shouted.
The king held up his hand to halt further speech and Lord Loeiz’s face went almost purple as he ground his teeth together. “You made it impossible for her to obtain a loan from any credible source, and hid your involvement in the loan company from her until after she’d accepted the terms and started work on her restaurant. Ms. Henry, if you’d known the Dearbhorgaills were behind the loan, would you have accepted it?”
“No,” Eva said without hesitation.
“That is what I thought.” The king gave Pryce’s parents a steely look. “Lord and Lady Dearbhorgaill, I sentence you on four counts—the murder of Pryce Dearbhorgaill, the attempted murder of Eva Henry, theft, and destruction of property. You are hereby sentenced to imprisonment for the term of twenty-five solar years.”
“No!” Lord Loeiz leaped to his feet. “You can’t do this. It’s her!” He pointed a finger at Eva, his eyes blazing with scorn. “She’s a nothing—a nobody!”
“And in addition, the loan given to Eva Henry will be negated. Ms. Henry shall keep the monies advanced to her without the need to pay them back as compensation for the trials she has faced due to the Dearbhorgaills,” the king continued, unfazed by the interruption.
“No. No, they’ll kill us!” Lady Almeda cried.
The audience erupted into loud chatter, and Eva could literally feel the malicious enjoyment at the Dearbhorgaills’ predicament.
“My sentence is final,” the king said in a flat voice. “I will not sanction this type of crime in my kingdom, the abuse of power against those from lower castes. Turlow, take them away.”
“No!” Lady Almeda shot to her feet and fumbled with her hair. Her locks toppled down around her shoulders in a dark curtain—and she plucked out a weapon, pointing it at Eva.
Eva stared, a hand flying to her chest. She willed her legs to move yet they refused to run.
“Conniving guttersnipe!” Lady Almeda screamed, her face twisted into a grotesque mask. Her hand held steady as she squeezed the trigger.
Chapter Fourteen
The weapon barked. Saber leaped at Eva and sent her flying to the floor.
Several women screamed. Men shouted. There was a stampede for the door. Turlow yelled for security.
Lady Almeda let out an annoyed screech and fired again.
“Keep your head down,” Saber ordered, his voice close to her ear, his body a heavy weight across her back. Then his bulk was gone. A feline scream of rage rippled through the air. It built, higher and higher, until her ears hurt.
“Get away from me!” Lady Almeda shrieked.
A third shot discharged. Explosive. Deafening.
Eva saw Saber dive at the king and knock him off his feet. Another shot fired. Saber roared.
Security men rushed through the doorway. “Put your weapon down! Put the weapon down now.”
They spread out, circling Lady Almeda.
“Put your weapon down!”
She ignored their demands, fired yet again.
Return shots fired.
A security man went down.
Lady Almeda crashed to the floor.
“Back against the wall,” a security man barked at the remaining people.
Eva lifted her head. Despite orders to remain in place, she crawled across the tiles to Saber. The king was leaning over hi
m. Blood squeezed between his fingers. Saber’s blood.
The king glanced up, tears in his eyes. “He saved my life.”
“Saber!” Her voice was hoarse, her heartbeat racing until it felt as if her chest would explode. He’d saved her too. “Saber,” she croaked. She stroked his pale face, wished his eyes were open so she could see his pretty green gaze.
He couldn’t die.
“Don’t die, Saber. I won’t let you. I refuse.” Frying fungus, she loved him. She loved Saber with everything she had, and now it was too late to tell him.
“Hands up. Get away from the king,” a security man boomed.
“Call the medical team,” the king roared.
“Hands in the air!” the security man shouted, his voice edging into agitated. A weapon poked into Eva’s ribs.
“It’s all right,” the king snapped. “It’s not my blood.”
Eva ignored the security team and lowered her head to brush a kiss on Saber’s brow. A tear trickled down her cheek and dropped onto his nose. His nose twitched.
“He’s going to be all right,” the king whispered.
“Your majesty?” Turlow asked.
The king surveyed the swarm of panicked men and women and scowled. “Clear this room. Take Lord Loeiz to the jail. Remove Lady Almeda’s body. Don’t let anyone back in except the medical team.”
“Yes, your majesty,” Turlow said with a half-bow and turned away to issue orders.
“Saber,” Eva said. “Saber?”
Saber’s eyelashes flickered.
“See, I told you,” the king said.
A medical man rushed into the room and sank down beside them, his white robe flowing around his spindly legs. “Let me look, your majesty,” he said in a calm voice.
The king backed up until he sat beside Eva. He wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. “It’s going to be all right,” he repeated. “Saber is dual-natured. That makes him tougher than most.”
As if to prove it, Saber’s eyelashes flickered again. His eyes opened.
“Saber!” Eva said, some of her inner panic subsiding.
“Eva?” His voice sounded rusty and unlike him, but her relief was instantaneous.
“I’m here,” she said, reaching for his hand. “I’m here.”
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