“Thanks for having us,” Carol replied on their behalf. Her hand slowly crawled across the table, determined to reach the plate of cookies.
“It might be a little unusual to dine with one's prisoners, but... I do feel terrible about what Tom did to you.”
“It's not so bad,” Josiah lied. He had a black eye, a swollen cheek, and a cracked lip that made it impossible to smile. Worst of all, his head was still pounding.
“As I recall, you were rather charming, Mr. Cole.” Isabella's praise for Josiah made Patrick snort with jealousy. “After you robbed our coach, my handmaidens wouldn't stop talking about you. They were obsessed. In fact... they're standing over there.” She pointed at the two women on the airship's deck. “I think they were dying for another glimpse of you.”
“Well, I'm afraid they'll be disappointed. With this big black eye, I'm not much to see.” Josiah raised his mechanical arm, which had been returned to him a moment ago. “This thing isn't all that pleasant to look at either.”
“I'm sorry about your arm, Mr. Cole. That's terrible.”
“I'm getting used to it,” he lied again.
As the princess poured her tea, Carol gasped sharply. “Omigod, wait!” she exclaimed. “You need to see this, Your Highness!” When she dipped into her bag—which had recently been returned to her—a few of the princess' guards stepped forward. With a roll of her eyes, Carol shrilled, “Don't panic! I'm not getting out a weapon or anything! Cool it! Sheesh!”
“I'm sorry if my guards are jumpy. After the debacle with Eversio last year, they're still on edge.”
“You don't have to apologize, Princess. I don't blame them for having their panties in a bunch. Or their knickers in a twist, for that matter. I like that word, don't you? Knickers. I spent a lot of time in Lundun a couple of years ago. It's a really nice place. I totally recommend it.” When she finished babbling, Carol set her robot on the table and yelled, “Gogobot on!”
As Gogo whirred to life, Isabella's eyes swelled. “What's that?” Alarmed by the princess' reaction, the guards took another step forward.
“This is Gogobot. I thought this was the perfect opportunity to demonstrate how awesome he is!” Carol gave her robot an affectionate pat on the head. “Would you like him to prepare your tea?”
Isabella's eyes went even wider. “He can do that?”
“Uh huh. Yes indeedy!” Pushing her robot in the direction of Isabella's teacup, Carol commanded, “Gogo, make tea!”
“Yip!” Gogobot shuffled forward and stood in front of Isabella's cup. He took a moment to assess the situation before turning his attention to the sugar cubes on the table. “Yip... go... go!” He clumsily carried a cube to Isabella's cup and dropped it inside. When a few droplets splashed in his face, he cooed, “Ooooo!”
“Do you want one lump or two?” By the time Carol finished her question, Gogobot was already racing to the princess' cup with a second cube. When he dropped it in, Carol chuckled and said, “Well, I guess you're getting two.”
“Yip!” Gogo quickly returned to the sugar and grabbed a third cube. When it plopped into Isabella's tea, he clapped for himself.
Carol groaned at her mechanical companion. “Gogo... no more sugar, little buddy! That's enough!”
“Yip go go go!” He ran to the milk, but he could barely lift it, so when he tipped it over the princess' cup, he poured in way too much.
“This is... fascinating,” Isabella said. “Truly. I've never seen anything like it.”
“Gogobot's a prototype. I'm still trying to work out all of his, uh... issues.”
“And he's got a lot of issues,” Josiah added with a chuckle, which earned him a jab from Carol's elbow.
In his claw-shaped hand, Gogobot awkwardly lifted Isabella's spoon and tossed it into her cup like a javelin. Ignoring the tea that splashed all around him, he proceeded to stiffly stir her tea with the spoon.
“Oh, hey... check this out!” Carol picked up another spoon and moved it to Josiah's mechanical hand. As the fingers clenched around the spoon, she explained, “The hand's equipped with sensors that can predict when an object needs to be held. Even the thumb works properly now. I was really impressed with myself for that.”
Josiah casually stirred his tea with the mechanical arm. Seeing the stunned expression on the princess' face, he smiled and said, “Carol's a little crazy. You get used to it.”
“Well... uh...” Isabella watched, slack-jawed, as Gogobot continued to stir her tea with vigor. “This has certainly been entertaining.”
“Alright, Gogo! You can stop stirring now. Geez.” Gogobot didn't listen to Carol's command. He kept stirring and stirring and stirring, as if his robotic life depended on it.
Hoping to be obeyed, Josiah shouted, “Damn, buddy, you're really stirring the shit out of that! Stop, man, stop!”
Gogobot dropped the spoon and obediently retreated to Carol's side of the table.
“So...” Because she needed a moment to gather her thoughts, Isabella took three sips of her excessively sweetened, extra milky tea. When she was ready to speak, she returned her teacup to its saucer and folded her hands in her lap. “There's something I'd like to discuss. Would the three of you mind if I unburdened myself to you? I know I don't--”
Isabella was interrupted by Patrick Amberley, who shoved a cookie toward the princess' lips. When she reluctantly accepted it into her mouth, he grinned. “You really are an adorable woman, Princess Isabella,” he praised her.
“Oh, I... uhh...” She timidly tucked her hair behind her ear—then she untucked it and used it to conceal her blushing cheeks. “Th-Thank you, Mr. Amberley.”
“You know, I think we got off on the wrong foot,” Patrick continued. “I shouldn't have tried to steal your airship. Nope. That was wrong of me, and I wouldn't do it again. If there's anything I can do to make it up to you...” Patrick leaned closer, until his lips were inches from her cheek. “A kiss, perhaps?”
“M-Mr. Amberley!” Isabella stammered. “My fiance is standing over there!”
“But if he wasn't standing over there, you would kiss me, wouldn't you?”
“I... I... um...” Patrick's hazel eyes momentarily stilled her tongue. “I really don't know.”
“An I don't know isn't a no.” Patrick brushed a knuckle against her cheek. She didn't seem to mind, but he didn't want to push his luck any further, so he leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head.
“Pattycakes, you're being naughty!” Carol admonished him. “If you act like that, that'll be the first and last time the princess invites us to tea!”
“Oh, but the princess likes the attention,” Patrick corrected Carol and winked at Isabella. “Don't you like it, Your Highness?”
She gave him a coward's answer again. “I don't know.”
“Just ignore Pat,” Josiah advised her. “That's my advice for all women. He's a cad. He flirts with everyone, then he loses interest fast.”
“I do not!” protested Patrick.
“Speaking of advice, I need some,” Isabella tried to redirect their attention to the topic she was dying to discuss. “I need unbiased advice from someone who doesn't know me or my situation.”
“Fire away, Princess. Patrick Amberley always has great advice to give!” His bold claim earned him a sneer from Josiah.
“Well.” Isabella straightened her back and took a deep breath. “As you might know, Emperor Ju-long of Huoxia has been attacking West Columbigo. First, he took the town of Santo Feo after a very bloody battle.”
“I know. I was there.” Josiah didn't mean to interrupt, but she needed to know what happened. “I lost my arm in that battle.”
“And I'm very sorry about that. Had the city been properly protected, it might not have happened.” Tears shimmered in Isabella's eyes as she apologized again. “I'm so sorry, Mr. Cole. Truly.”
Josiah shook his head. “It's hardly your fault, Your Highness. Don't worry about it.”
“But it is my fault! My bro
ther left me in charge of West Columbigo's defense. He wants me to clean up the situation with the foreign emperor. But now Ju-long's taken another town... and I... I don't know what to do. I feel utterly and completely lost. And that's why I need advice. Can any of you help me?”
Isabella's three companions offered wildly different advice.
“I think you should tell that brother of yours to man up,” Patrick told her. “He's the emperor, right? You need to tell him to get his ass over here and deal with the situation himself! If he sends his sister to do a job like this, he looks like a pussy.”
Josiah's advice was slightly different. “I don't think you should do that. I'm sure there's a reason why your brother put his faith in you. He believes in you, and you wouldn't want to let him down. Still, you could ask him to send more men, more airships. Emperor Ju-long has a lot of soldiers and ships at his disposal. You need to be able to match that.”
Carol's advice was last. And it was the most unusual advice of all. “You don't need soldiers and ships, you just need Josiah Cole. He's a one-man army.”
Josiah slowly turned in her direction. “Carol... what?”
“I've turned you into a one-man army,” Carol calmly reiterated. “All you need is your gun arm, and you'll be all like... blam blam kablooey! The emperor won't know what hit him!”
“Ugh... Carol...” Josiah's hand dragged across his face as he groaned her name. “Don't make me sound more capable than I am.”
“But it's true!” the engineer insisted. “Those missiles are super powerful, Jojo! Your arm is the only weapon in the world that can fire them quickly and accurately, and the arm only responds to you. Because of that arm, you're the most dangerous man in the world... you just haven't been given a chance to test it!”
Josiah's reply was muffled by the hand that cupped his lips. “Maybe I don't want a chance to test it.”
“So you say... but you could end this war, JC!”
“You really believe that, don't you?”
“Uh huh! I do believe it!” Carol cried. “I mean, come on! I constructed the biggest and baddest super weapon ever and you're the only one who can operate it. How are you not dangerous?”
As Carol and Josiah bickered, Patrick slipped an arm around Isabella's shoulders. “So...” he whispered in her ear. “How much do you really like that fiance of yours? A lot? A little? Or maybe somewhere in between? I bet he's frustrating, isn't he?”
Before she could reply, Tom Harriot stormed their table and extracted Patrick's arm from Isabella's shoulders. “It's bad enough that I have to stand aside and watch my fiance have tea with criminals... I will not stand aside while you put your paws all over her!”
“My paws weren't all over her!” Patrick objected with a smirk. “But they could be... if she wanted it.”
Tom crossed his arms and glowered at the outlaw. “Well, she doesn't want you! Leave her alone!”
“Are you sure she doesn't want me, buddy? Have you asked her? Have you--”
Isabella spoke up before Patrick could say anything to make Tom truly irate. “Um... Tom, now that you're here, I'd like you to apologize to Josiah. You tortured him. Brutalized him. And that's simply not acceptable. Not on my ship.”
“I'm sorry, Princess.”
“No no. Don't apologize to me.” Isabella gestured across the table. Specifically, she pointed at Josiah's bulbous blackened cheek and injured eye. “Apologize to him.”
Gloom settled on Tom's brow as he forced the words out of his mouth. “I'm sorry, Josiah Cole. I shouldn't have hit you.”
“You did more than hit him, pal!” Carol protested. “You pummeled him until he was black and blue and red!”
“I suppose I did.” Though it pained him greatly, Tom repeated the words, “I'm sorry.”
“Alright.” Josiah hitched a shoulder and replied apathetically, “I forgive you.”
Tom's apology seemed to satisfy Isabella, who reached for her fiance's hand, much to Patrick's dismay. “Good. If Josiah forgives you, then I can forgive you too. But... in the future, please refrain from reverting to the old Tom Harriot. The Eversio Tom Harriot.” Isabella's lips were frowning as she finished her thought. “He frightens me.”
Twenty Seven
“Bonjour! Salut! Bonne... dia.” Nicky greeted the emperor's guards in a mangled foreign language. As he peered around his immense cake, he tried to disarm the guards with a smile, but their stony expressions didn't crack. In an exaggerated accent, he said, “I have brought zee cake for zee newlyweds!”
After a short pause, one of the guards grumbled, “Go away!”
“Non non non!” Nicky adamantly objected. “In zis country, it is customary to have zee cake. Which I have brought. As you can see, oui?”
“We don't care.” The guard's jaw hardened as he glared at Nicky. “Go away.”
“You would turn away zee most famous baker in all of Paree?” Nicky stroked his fake mustache and readjusted his puffy white chef's hat. He was proud of his disguise. When he checked himself in the mirror before leaving his aunt's inn, he impressed himself. How could they turn him away? “I have won all sorts of awards, you know! Many many! Many many awards!”
“What kind of awards?” asked the second guard, who looked considerably more intrigued by Nicky than his stern-looking companion.
“I won zee... zee gran Paree prize for zee best baguette in all of le monde!” When Nicky realized some of the icing was sliding off of his store-bought cake, he tried to shift its imperfections out of view. “For two years, I was zee premier chef for zee, um... dauphine de Orlean. My cakes are second to none!”
“Go away,” the first guard grumbled again. “If I have to ask again, your face is going into that cake.”
“I don't know...” protested the second guard, who licked his lips as he stared at the towering treat in Nicky's hands. “It'd be a shame to waste such a nice cake.”
“Then rip the cake out of his hands and send him packing!”
“Non!” Nicky turned away from them. “Zis cake is a gift for zee emperor and zee emperor alone, oui? It is not for zee likes of you! I will bring zee cake to welcome him to zis beautiful country! Some of us are très content about his arrival in Ouest Columbigo, and so I bring zis as an offering of peace!”
Even the reluctant guard's resolve was crumbling, so Nicky kept at it, “You would deny zee new empress the oldest tradition of her people? Every bride wants zee cake. Every bride needs zee cake. If she does not get zee cake she might be unhappy forever, capisce?”
Neither guard seemed to notice he finished his speech in the wrong language. In fact, the second guard was quickly warming up to him. “I think we should let him on the airship!”
His companion wasn't so pliable to the idea. “What?”
“He looks harmless... and that cake looks delicious.”
“But the emperor said no exceptions!”
“I know. And if something bad happens, I'll take the blame,” the second guard negotiated. “I'll be cautious. I'll search him for weapons, and I won't let him out of my sight.”
“Your bon ami is very wise, monsieur!” Nicky exclaimed. “He knows a good thing when he sees it, and zis cake is nothing if not a very good thing, non?”
“Alright. Fine. Let him on,” grumbled the disagreeable guard. “I still think it's the worst idea in the world, but if you really want to bring him aboard, I won't stop you.”
“Merci, mon ami!” Nicky passed his cake to the friendlier guard and kissed the first guard's cheeks—not once, but four times. “You will not regret zis! No no, you will not!”
“I already regret it.” The scowling guard lightly pushed him away. “And if you kiss me again, I'll break you.”
Nicky followed the guard—the one that was his ally—onto the airship. He led Nicky to the kitchen, where a dozen cooks were scrambling to prepare a feast for Emperor Ju-long's post-wedding festivities. The scent of foreign spices assailed Nicky's nose, making his mouth water. He shamelessly pilfe
red an egg roll and shoved it into his mouth.
“This cake does look delicious,” the guard praised him. He laid the cake on the counter and licked his lips again.
“Oui oui. It is zee best cake in Columbigo, I promise you zis.”
“I should, uh... I should probably sample it,” the guard said. “You know... to make sure it's not...uh... poisoned or anything.” Food testers weren't commonly used by Emperor Ju-long, whose people were generally loyal. The salivating guard just wanted a mouthful of cake and icing.
“You should sample it, yes.” Nicky forgot his bad accent as he eyed the door. He couldn't wait to get out and search for Gwen. He needed to keep the guard occupied, and the cake was an excellent distraction.
“Hand me that knife over there,” the guard commanded him.
As Nicky passed the kitchen knife, he momentarily thought about using it as a weapon. However, that particular guard had been so kind to him, he balked at the idea of puncturing his flesh. “You should note zee, uh... subtle cherry glaze,” Nicky babbled as the guard cut himself a slice. “Only a master such as I could concoct such a, uh... concoction.”
“Oh, this is good!” the guard raved as he took his first bite. “Mmm... yes! I think the emperor will love this!”
“I am glad you like it, monsieur.” While the guard stuffed his face with sugar, Nicky sidled to the door. Later, he would have to thank the cake's actual baker for making a believable masterpiece. “Eat as much as you want! I will not deny you!”
Fortunately, the guard was so distracted by the cake, he didn't notice when Nicky was halfway across the room. He didn't even notice when Nicky passed through the door and slipped into the hallway.
“Alright.” Nicky ripped off the chef's hat and mustache as he whispered to himself. “It's time to find Gwen and get her out of here.”
* * *
As she watched her new husband remove his clothes, Gwen tightened her throat to keep the bile from rising. His skin was saggy, his stomach drooped, and he had wrinkles and creases in places she never wanted to see.
A Broken Outlaw (Belles & Bullets Book 7) Page 18