Empress Hiding

by Y. M. Roger

  Dalis chuckled heartily, but leaned in toward the screen as if trying to keep his words a secret.

  “I believe Prince Rafal has met his special someone, my beautiful mate,” Dalis’ eyes sparkled with his excitement as Mischief began to mumble inside again – although Dalis could feel that the monger was really trying hard not to be ridiculously curious about Rafal’s female since he had slept through her last visit.

  Both Margreet and Cheo let out a thrilling squeal – their eyes dancing between turquoise and aquamarine with their emotions – Margreet beginning to run her fingers gracefully through their sapphire hair again. She, too, leaned in toward the screen and whispered her reply – both she and Dalis acting like adolescents on a gossip call.

  “Well, what of her, my Dalis?”

  Dalis grinned from ear-to-ear.

  “She is a breath of fresh air and a complete delight, my Margreet. You will like her,” he paused as if searching for the right words of description without betraying anything of Chiyoto’s Yasak nature over the comm lines, “She makes the Prime Magistrate smile from the inside out.”

  Margreet looked as though she was about to launch from her seat with sheer elation as she caught her breath and actually pulled her own hair where she had been running her fingers through it – her reaction to which was to yelp in surprise, though the laughter never left her eyes.

  “Cheo would like to know what Mischief thinks of her,” she giggled almost girlishly.

  Dalis raised an eyebrow and puffed out his chest as Mischief mumbled once again how Dalis had tried to hide her from him – the monger’s chattering reaching a fever pitch in reminding Dalis how he had tricked him into going back to sleep when the Prime Magistrate had awakened him. As usual, Dalis would not let on to Margreet about the monger’s carryings on.

  “You can tell the gracious Cheo that Mischief slept during the female’s brief visit, but that he would be happy to introduce them to you both on the morrow.”

  Margreet pulled on her hair again and her irises exploded with so many hues of the sapphire-turquoise realm that Dalis quit trying to track them. She was so very beautiful and, yes, so very unique, in so very many ways.

  “Do you think he will want her to come home wi–”

  Margreet’s question and excitement were interrupted abruptly by the screeching call of the external comm panel alert. Immediately, both Mischief and Dalis froze at attention – a quick running internal dialogue erupting as to who that could be at this late hour in Capital City – completely internal, of course, because they did not want to alarm their mate any more than the look on her face already said that she had been.

  “It is simply the panel, my beautiful mate,” Dalis made his voice soothing and gentle when, inside, neither he nor Mischief felt anything of the sort, “The security system is still fully engaged. All you need do is step over and answer audibly only,” Dalis made his voice sound much more firm as he finished, “Do not activate the visual.”

  Margreet nodded obediently as she pushed away from their comm table – sapphire eyes wide with wonder and fear – and stood to push the answer switch. Dalis watched impatiently almost willing himself to pass through the comm screen and be the one to answer the alert.

  Mischief clawed at him nervously – threatening bodily harm of all sorts – some of which surprised even Dalis – to any being that would dare break in and hurt their mate. But, externally, Dalis was almost stoic – a gentle smile of waiting on his visage.

  Although he could not hear the exchange, the look on Margreet’s face when she reappeared on the screen told him all he needed to know, and Mischief practically collapsed from overuse of energy.

  She smiled sheepishly.

  “He says they are Prince Hondo, my Dalis, are we expecting–”

  Dalis, too, was running through his decompression routine with relief.

  “Yes, my mate, he is expected,” Dalis paused and looked at the time piece around his abdomen, “Although a bit early. Simply confirm that it is the Prince visually before you release the door seal.”

  Margreet nodded her understanding and disappeared from view again while Dalis was entertained by Mischief’s mutterings about another Sadid to keep them company but that at least Hondo was properly mated.

  Dalis chuckled at his altre – there was certainly never any boring moments in their lives.

  There were muffled voices and then a large flourish of red material of varying hues – yes, that would be Prince Hondo – before his Margreet’s flustered yet happy face reappeared.

  “I would get them settled, my Dalis,” she smiled and, even though she seemed a bit harried, Dalis could read that she was fine, “We will hold you tomorrow, my mate.”

  She reached out to touch the screen as Dalis did the same.

  “You are our life, Margreet,” Dalis let Mischief’s voice blend with his own, “Until tomorrow.”

  Margreet smiled warmly.

  “And you are ours, my Dalis. Until tomorrow.”

  Dalis clicked the comm panel power off and stood to retire for the evening.

  He had not taken three steps when his external comm panel alert sounded.

  Mischief sighed in aggravation.

  Probably that meddling esholeshek, Jaylis.

  Dalis chuckled when the alert sounded again, prompting more colorful curses regarding the Captain of the Black Guard as Dalis reached for the panel switch …

  Then a resounding thud against the door as if it had been kicked forcefully.

  Dalis ran for the panel and flipped the switch for both audio and visual.

  “What is the godsfallen issue th …!”

  A threatening predatoral growl interrupted his exclamation as Sila’s face appeared centered on the vis-panel.

  “Open the door, Dalis, our Mistress is hurt!”

  But Dalis had not been Rafal’s steward for this many years because he could be intimidated easily – especially through a comm panel. He aggravatedly fingered the zoom control to wide angle to get a better look as he retorted.

  “You do not just yell and demand entrance to the Prime Magistr …,” the vid angle finished re-focusing, offering Dalis his first look at the female cradled in Sila’s arms – Dalis caught his breath and punched the security release at the same time, “What happened?!” the old steward immediately demanded.

  Sila rushed in and Dalis gaped at the sight of Rafal’s female lying limp in the Black Guard’s hold.

  “Seal it!”

  Sila’s voice brokered no room for argument and the predator in him was riding at the forefront – Mischief seemed lost, confused, not sure if he should be afraid of Sila or for the female as Dalis quickly resealed the entrance, giving Sila instructions as he did so.

  “At the end of the passageway, the main chamber cannot be missed,” Dalis’ fingers danced nimbly over the control panel to relock the hatchway as he spoke.

  Dalis took a moment to try to calm Mischief as he spoke, but his focus was not on his altre at the moment – it was on Rafal’s self-proclaimed mate.

  “What do you need, beyfendi?!” Dalis shouted at Sila even as he made his way down the passageway.

  Mate? MATE? But the Prince can have no mate!

  Dalis ignored Mischief for now.

  “Source nourishment! She said that you had some!”

  Dalis froze mid-stride.

  Source nourishment?!! Dalis, how can Rafal’s female or mate or whatever need source nour … Oh, Makers, Dalis! Is she . . . ?!!

  Oh, Makers! – Dalis thought to himself, doing his best to ignore his confused altre – Chiyoto had drunk it all this morning! His replenishment he had purchased for himself was synthetic, and she could not drink that …

  Dalis stopped at the door to the chambers as Sila delicately laid the petit female on the large bed within.

  Dalis? Wha
t is wrong with synthe … oh, Dalis! Has Rafal chosen …

  Blissfully, Mischief fell silent into puzzling mode as Dalis approached the bed.

  “All that remains is synthetic, beyfendi,” Dalis walked slowly toward the bed – both he and Mischief wary that they were the only non-predators in the room.

  And he stiffened and felt Mischief cower backwards as Sila snarled gruffly in aggravation.

  Dalis shivered, but he found his courage in the fact that his Prince had decided this female was his mate. He took a deep breath.

  “Can she partake, beyfendi?” he held out his arm as he rolled up his sleeve, “We would gladly …”

  Sila stood abruptly and cut him off.

  “She?!! SHE?!! How dare …,” but Sila stopped abruptly as his Hiroto hissed and berated him mercilessly inside – he could almost feel the chestryl’s talons tear at his gut.

  They do not know, my Sila! Show aegis for they are Prince Rafal’s koruyucu!

  The Guard’s posture and growling voice had Mischief completely balled up inside of Dalis as the elder steward bravely stood his ground, although his muscles visibly fought him on the decision to do so. Dalis really had thought the male was a good choice for Rafal’s safety, but now …

  Stop your kahrolasi yelling, and show aegis NOW, my Sila!

  Mischief whimpered and shivered – tail covering all that he was. And just as Dalis began to back slowly toward the door and away from the bed – away from the threatening and deadly Sila and whatever predator lurked inside of him – the Black Guard fell silent and dropped to one knee, his right arm crossed over his torso with talons displayed, his gaze never leaving Dalis’ frightened eyes.

  “Our apologies, Dalis,” Sila’s voice was soft and whispered, “We were too worried for Hanfendi Chiyoto and forgot ourselves. Hiroto and I will always protect you both with our lives.”

  Dalis braced himself on the door frame as he re-gained control of his breathing and nodded in the affirmative, although Mischief was not yet ready to unroll himself.

  Sila continued as he remained on one knee – his show of aegis held firmly in place.

  “Your offer is generous, brave one, but we are of mixed heritage,” Dalis nodded his understanding as Sila turned back to the unconscious Chiyoto and began to prop her head and upper body up on multiple pillows, “Please bring us a knife and a cup.”

  Dalis internally tried to reassure Mischief – who seemed thoroughly convinced that another predator other than the chestryl lurked nearby and was determined to remain “hidden” – and had barely turned to leave the room when the Black Guard gently issued another command.

  Look around you, my Sila. Look at the décor – it begins here.

  Dalis watched as the suddenly transformed guard took a long, hard look around the bedroom chamber before he added a command.

  “And contact the Prime Magistrate about his female – he should be here.”

  Because Hiroto was right – this room was a very pivotal location that needed Rafal and his Chiyoto together.

  “Yes, beyfendi,” Dalis’ breath was ragged, and he certainly needed to sleep – this had been one of the longest days of their life.

  Chapter 22

  Rafal walked through the area where his Chiyoto’s essence was the strongest – his beast pushing him forward to not slow down because the beast sensed no actual presence in the vicinity.

  It seemed the beast was sure their mate needed them.

  And Rafal certainly needed to hold her to reassure her that he did, indeed, wish to mate with her, and that all of this tension in the Empire would certainly ease once he took the throne.

  At least he would take even further steps necessary to quell some of the problems.

  Just as he had proclaimed to her Runa, Rafal was not his sire – his beast growled quite vocally in agreement.

  As he was about to activate his wrist comm and check in with Sila, his olfactory caught her peppermint and musk pour out from the hatchway that unlatched to his left. An almost lustful smile peeled across his face with the revelation that she was near as he glanced at the entry-ident before entering the kilise.

  Why would his Chiyoto have needed to visit the ki …

  Rafal’s thoughts were cut short when the bustling make-shift medical ward met his searching eyes instead of the expected silence of a reverent place of meditation and prayer.

  Just as he and his beast had begun to process the scene before them – a scene that was laced through and through strongly with their female’s unique scent – a lacing that set his beast on edge even further as the need to hold Chiyoto grew exponentially with the vision of so many injured – Rafal’s senses were assaulted with a strong mixture of fear and aggression approaching from the left.

  The Prime Magistrate turned to face a flustered yet no less determined Blood-borne gnysue – his beast somewhat amused at the male’s tombul stature as neither he nor his thaintarr posed them any threat.

  His beast’s amusement? Was that really what he sensed? Such a strong enough connection between them had never actually …

  His beast growled at him rather than through him – the growl meant for Rafal’s knowledge only. A mock? A tease? Rafal shook his head slightly with his own amusement at the fact that there actually seemed to be a true line of communication developing between him and his beast.

  And Rafal agreed that the gnysue was definitely amusing although he wondered about the male’s aggressive tone . …

  Before he had more time to wonder, the gnysue made his concerns known.

  “Prime Magistrate,” the gnysue’s voice actually bore the huskiness of his animal – not a threat to Rafal, but he did have to hold his face tight to hide his entertainment with the intrepid male, “It is best that you leave here.”

  Rafal could feel the animosity begin to emanate from the gnysue, and his beast growled low in warning, but Rafal ignored them both. He understood the gnysue’s objection to his presence to be an emotional one borne of the fact that this attack had been targeted at the mostly Blood-borne quarters and commons area. And he understood his beast took the gnysue’s aggressive tone to indicate a challenge or, at the very least, a lack of respect.

  But the fact that peppermint and musk still hung so heavily in the air kept him calm, and he worked diligently to keep his voice sounding gentle, if such were actually possible for him.

  “We are looking for someone, Gnysue,” Rafal even inclined his head out of reverence for the keeper of faith and historical doctrine, “And the hakim will be along shortly to tend th …”

  A growl emanated from the husky gnysue, and Rafal had to admire the male and his animal’s tenacity – the entire Empire was well aware of Rafal’s beast, and, yet, this male challenged him. Rafal would not belittle that challenge – no matter the insignificance of the threat but neither would he be deterred in the case of locating his Chiyoto.

  A low rumble rolled up Rafal’s throat – just enough to make the rotund gnysue stiffen and his eyes widen with a mixture of fear and consternation as he responded.

  “The maalchie has already been here” – the gnysue mimicked spitting to the side – “Said he would return with bags for many of them” – Bweldon held Rafal’s gaze as he finished – “But we need not him nor his bags now.”

  Curiosity flowed readily from Rafal’s beast as the Prime Magistrate raised a questioning eyebrow.

  “I see,” Rafal’s voice bore out the curiosity he harbored – that he was sure the gnysue could read in his eyes.

  The Prime Magistrate’s calm yet inquisitive reaction seemed to fluster the gnysue further as Bweldon stammered forward in frustration, but Rafal was not sure to whom the portly being spoke. Was it his animal, perhaps? And Rafal was sure he could feel his own beast chuckle . . ?

  “No, he most likely does not know, but he should leave,” frustration colored Bweld
on’s cheeks as he broke eye contact with Rafal and continued speaking to … some one, “His presence is upsetting some of …”

  But Rafal’s patience had reached their end.

  “I will leave, Gnysue,” Rafal let his frustration show – the smell of Chiyoto surrounding him without being able to touch or to hold her to him was beginning to gnaw at both him and his beast, “Just as soon as you show us where Hanfendi Chiyoto is.”

  The gnysue’s face underwent the strangest transition that Rafal had seen in some time. In a matter of what could not be more than the blink of an eye, the stout gnysue’s tenacious attitude transitioned from mumbling distraction to surprise and, finally, to hard and completely emotionless.

  Which is where it stayed – as if set in stone – every muscle and nerve ending in Bweldon’s body frozen in time. His aggression as well as his fear seemed to dissipate into nothingness – he might as well have been a statue.

  “There is no one here by that name, Prime Magistrate,” Bweldon’s voice seemed almost rehearsed, monotone.

  The growl that sounded from Rafal was anything but controlled or monotone.

  “You are a really bad liar amidst so much evidence,” Rafal stepped forward and jerked the gnysue’s chin so that their eyes met once again, but this time Rafal’s beast’s shown in his eyes – the emerald therein almost completely engulfed with the beast’s crimson. Rafal let his beast mix with his voice, “We scent her everywhere, Gnysue! Now, wh …

  The gnysue’s face of stone turned to incredulity as a childish smirk of defiance lit his wrinkled face with his interruption.

  “Now who is the liar, Prime Magistrate?” Beligerent was the best word to describe what Bweldon had become as he raised his voice and eyes to meet Rafal’s threatening growls – all eyes and attentions in the room turning to the two of them, “Hrrmmpph. Scent indeed. There. Is. No. One. H-”