It was so sudden, I almost forgot and said What?!
“He’s looking over here,” Alvek hissed in my ear. “We have to make it look real. Kiss me, Exkella!”
And his body was twisting, letting me sink further back against his shoulder, his mouth coming down possessively on mine—
God! Jagor!
I gave a kind of panicked moan as our lips met, and then we were kissing, his hand coming up to smooth through my fake, blonde hair. My body froze, but I didn’t push him away.
I have to....
You can tell a lot about someone by their kiss. He was urgent and strong; the need to make it look good, even if I was passive. And underneath all that, something else. I felt the movement, at the very corners of his mouth – a tiny twitch of a smile, swiftly hidden. It wasn’t all for show.
And however much I didn’t want it, however true I was to Jagor, something about the kiss sent a fine, shining thread of passion straight down to my core. He wasn’t Jagor; was so utterly different, in fact…was that why?
He broke the kiss, leaving me gasping. The white-haired man had moved away. Alvek eased me up to sitting; I couldn’t meet his eyes for a moment.
“I’m sorry, Exkella,” he said humbly. But there was an undercurrent in his voice. He wasn’t that sorry.
“I have to go,” I said stiffly, and stood. He sighed and unclipped the leash, but just as I turned to go he caught my hand and stared up at me, his meaning clear: You don’t have to do this.
I stared back at him, wondering how much he could judge through the mask. Could he see how scared I was? How desperate I was to get going and take those first few steps towards the white-haired man: because if I hesitated, I knew I’d never go through with it.
With a last, long look, he grudgingly released me…and I plunged into the crowd. I forced Alvek from my mind, forced myself to concentrate on what I had to do. How would I attract his attention? Approach him? Shed what few clothes I had right in front of him? Dance?
I could see him now. Facing away from me, that long, shining white hair unmistakable. I started to panic: however I approached him, it would seem suspicious; he’d guess.
And then I remembered how he’d been when I met him, back in this same club weeks before. How I’d tried to resist him, and how that had only encouraged him. A horrible, sick calm descended on me. I didn’t need to approach him at all. I had to do the opposite: make him think he was doing all the chasing. I had to make myself prey.
There are few things worse in life than not being able to see your fear. Did you ever walk into a room knowing there was a spider in there, and search every corner, terrified, until you found it? Imagine walking into the same room with your eyes tightly shut.
I walked past him, deliberately looking the other way. Waiting for him to notice me, the hairs rising on the back of my neck, my spine tingling as I imagined him looking at me. I was a deer, caught in the hunter’s scope, completely unaware. I thought I could feel his eyes on me, sliding down over my shoulders, my ass, my legs. I was almost panting with fear: could he see that?
“You,” and I recognized the voice immediately. “Come here.”
I turned slowly, as if uncertain if it was me he was talking about. He was lounging like a king on a throne, flanked by his second in command and his soldiers. Every eye had been drawn to me by his words; it felt like a spotlight had been thrown on me.
I had to resist. I glanced away into the room, as if debating. As if there was another owner who would save me.
“I gave you a command!” he said.
I took a deep breath and walked towards him on legs like wax.
“I saw you with another, just now. Did he finish with you already?”
I was right in front of him; close enough to touch. I looked in the direction of Alvek and nodded.
“Don’t worry,” he told me, smirking. “I’ll last much longer.” He sat back, studying me. “I always did like blondes. Come, sit on me.” He gave a nasty chuckle, and his retinue obediently joined in.
I sat. It was utterly different to when I’d done it with Alvek; that had felt merely wrong, like I was cheating on Jagor. This was like putting my head between a monster’s jaws.
“There,” he said, and his hands closed on my thighs. “Much better. You’re a nervous one, aren’t you?” He suddenly moved his mouth to my ear, and I jerked in shock. “Skittish. But I know what you’re like on the inside. I know what you came here for tonight.”
I could feel the cold fear knotting inside me.
“You want more than your husband can give you, hmm?” His hands were on my arms, now. Rubbing. “Has he been treating you too kindly, perhaps? Do you need to know what it is to be a slave, again?”
My whole body was tense – I wasn’t even shaking, I was so tightly wound.
“Get up,” he said. I stood.
“Take off your clothes for me,” he told me. “For us!” he corrected, indicating his entourage with a sweep of his hand. It wasn’t enough for him to see me, I realized. He wanted to command me – to dominate me – in front of his underlings. I felt reality cracking open the protective shell I’d built around myself. I couldn’t go through with this, couldn’t show myself to this man. I glanced towards the exit of the club. I could run, and be out of the place in minutes. This whole idea had been a bad plan—
His phone rang, and I stood, frozen, while he answered it.
“What? No, he can’t: I don’t want them talking.” He smirked. “Remind him he isn’t the prince anymore.”
My heart suddenly slammed into my throat.
He looked at me; saw I was still dressed and put his hand over the cell phone’s mike. “Are you disobeying me?” he asked mildly.
I can’t!
He’ll have me thrown out! I have to listen to this call!
With shaking hands, I unfastened my bra. I saw his gaze rake over my body; saw him grin. He started speaking into the phone again, but he kept watching me.
“Tell him he’ll see them tomorrow at the palace. When are you taking him? No, do it earlier. Four. The roads will be quiet. Keep it low profile; just the SUVs.”
I hooked my panties down my legs and slowly slipped them off, leaving me in suspender belt, stockings and heels. The white-haired man motioned me closer with one finger as he finished the call.
“You can do it without me. Any word on the Exkella? I’d dearly love to have her under me, before this is over.”
He reached up and gripped the ring on my collar, tugging me until I was standing between his spread knees. With one hand, he traced down the length of my spine. My breasts were inches from his face.
“Fine. Keep looking.” And he hung up with a theatrical sigh. “Now. How shall we sample you first?” he asked.
I felt the panic rise in me. I had what I needed, but now I was going to have to…. He was gripping the ring of my collar: I could try to pull away, but that would only excite him more. I looked around the club. Even if I screamed, no-one was going to help me: not with the soldiers there. I was in too deep: he was going to—
The radio strapped to one of the soldiers suddenly blared. He talked into it, at first dismissive and then with growing panic. “We have to go!” he told the white-haired man. “Now! We’re under attack!”
The white-haired man let out something like a snarl, but released my collar and stood. The soldiers closed in around him and the crowd moved quickly aside to let them pass. As I scrabbled on the floor for my clothes, the man looked back over his shoulder and blew me a kiss.
Alvek waited until I had my bra and panties on before he stepped out of the shadows. “I had people outside,” he told me. “When I saw him hang up the phone….” He trailed off. “I didn’t want to wait any longer. Did you get what you need?”
I nodded quickly. “They’re moving him to the palace. Tomorrow at four, in SUVs.” Speaking felt odd, after so long spent mute.
He squeezed my shoulder. “You did well, Exkella. Let’s get you out
of here, before they realize it’s just a couple of men taking potshots at their cars.”
***
When I’d shed the mask and collar and dressed, I met Alvek outside. He had a car with him – an old, battered saloon. It felt strange to be in a normal car again, with its mess and lived-in feel, after weeks of spotless limos.
“So who are you?” I asked.
“I was with the army, until all this happened. Most of us were.” He was silent for a second. “Exkella, most of the soldiers involved in the coup…they’re not bad men. Their leaders have told them that the military’s in control, and they point their guns where they’re ordered.” His fingers tightened on the wheel. “Even at rioters.”
“But you?”
“I met the Prince a few times. I was liaison to the palace for a little while. I know what kind of man he is.” That certainty, again, in his eyes. “It’s not his fault things aren’t perfect.”
“Can we win, though? Can we get the kingdom back?”
He shook his head. “Honestly? I don’t know. Ask someone who’s planned a revolution before. But I know it starts with getting the royals to safety. If they’re executed, those bastards can re-write history any way they want.”
***
He took me to a hotel, a once-grand place now slowly fading and rotting. It was out-of-the-way enough to be private, and the owner was a friend who’d closed down “for refurbishment’ so Alvek’s men could use it as a base. When we arrived, Alvek ordered everyone into the lobby and introduced me.
There were just thirty of them. Some were little more than teenagers, armed with handguns.
I pulled Alvek to one side. “You can’t be serious! You’re facing an army!”
“When you’re facing an army, a thousand men won’t make a difference. This is about hearts and minds: we need the public to support us, and the army to switch sides. They have to get behind the royals. We need Prince Jagor.”
I thought back to all Jagor’s doubts about his popularity. He already blamed himself for everything that was wrong in Asteria. I believed in him…but would everyone else?
“How will you do it?” I asked, still looking at his ragtag band of men.
“We’ll ambush them on the way to the palace. And you will stay here. Before you argue, this is far too dangerous, Exkella.”
I hesitated, but nodded. I’d never shot a gun in my life: the club had been terrifying enough.
“I’ll bring him back to you. In the meantime, you should rest.”
***
There was almost a full day before the rescue. I got one of Alvek’s men to get a message to Telessa at the other hotel, to tell her I was safe and to stay put. After that, there was nothing to do but wait, sleep and eat. The hotel owner had kept the chef on, and at mealtimes I ate downstairs with Alvek’s men. The first time I did it, they all went silent as soon as I walked in.
For a moment, the fear took hold. I thought they’d heard bad news about Jagor and didn’t want to tell me. Then one of them nervously pulled my chair out for me – the one at the head of the table.
I’d got so used to life on the run, I’d forgotten that I was still royalty, or close to it. One of the soldiers – Dagus, a skinny kid who couldn’t have been more than nineteen – asked me to sign his rifle. I laughed, and then realized he was serious: he had a silver Sharpie ready for me to sign the stock. I scrawled my signature and wrote “Be Safe’ underneath.
***
The next afternoon, Alvek and almost all of the men left on the rescue mission. I’d never known what it was to wait before. No phone calls, no updates, no rolling news coverage I could obsess over. Just an empty hotel room and a well-meaning rebel soldier who kept knocking and asking if I wanted anything.
I sat there going quietly crazy. Four O’clock came and went. By ten past, I was pacing the room. By half past, I was pacing the hotel.
Five O’clock came. Then six. Even the men they’d left to guard me were getting nervous. I was standing in the lobby, fingers knotted in my hair, unbidden thoughts oozing into my mind. Things had clearly gone wrong – maybe very badly wrong. Alvek and Jagor were dead; probably the others, too. Had it been a trap? Had the white-haired man recognized me after all, fed me false information? Was it all my fault?
Jagor burst through the door, not six feet from me. There was a single second of stunned silence where we both just looked at each other. Then I was in his arms and kissing him.
“Don’t ever leave me again,” I said seriously, when we came up for air. I was crying. When had I started crying?
“I won’t,” he told me, clutching me close.
We hugged for a few silent, glorious moments. Alvek’s men came trooping in, grinning at us, and I realized guiltily that I should have asked something first. “Is everything alright? Is everyone—”
“We’re fine,” said Alvek. He was clutching a hand to his arm, and I saw that he was bleeding.
“Alvek was shot in the arm,” Jagor told me. “I’m in his debt. We both are.”
“I know,” I said, and wiped my tears away. “We have to get you to a hospital,” I told Alvek.
He shook his head. “It’s a through and through,” he told me. I nodded, as if I knew what that meant. “I know a doctor who can patch it up. One of the men can take me: if you two are okay without me?”
Jagor pulled me close. “We’ll be fine.”
Alvek gave us a number we could reach him on. A landline number: the coup leaders still had the cell network shut down, except for the numbers they reserved for themselves. I’d started to appreciate, in the last few days, how reliant we’d been on technology. By taking away the cell network, the military had made it next to impossible for anyone to organize a protest, a riot…or a revolution.
Just before he left, Alvek bowed low to both of us. “Your Highness. Exkella.” Those blue eyes again, full of respect, full of belief in us. I’ve never felt so unworthy.
***
Upstairs, we fell onto the bed and just held each other, as if making sure the other one was real.
Eventually I said, “I’m worried. About Alvek and his men. If they go up against the army, they’ll be slaughtered.” I bit my lip. “What are you going to do?”
He sighed. “I can’t leave my parents here.”
“You have to – do what we talked about. Leave with me, come back when it’s safer.”
“When will that be?” I had no answer to that. He sat up. “Lucy, I’ve had time to think about this. I don’t think I can run anymore. I know I can’t convince you to leave on your own – if you want to stay with me, stay. But my people need me.”
I was silent for a moment. “You’ve never called them that before.”
“What?”
“’My people.’”
I was so proud of him – he was getting ready to lead, however much he secretly feared he wasn’t the man for the job. But I couldn’t see any way he could win. “They have an army, Jagor,” I whispered.
“I know.” That Asterian stubbornness again. He’d die before he’d give up.
I knelt beside him on the bed and wrapped my arms around him protectively. “Those men downstairs will follow you into battle. Even if they can’t win.”
“I know!” he shouted, jumping to his feet. “But what else can I do? I don’t have an army, I don’t have an air force, I can’t just call up an air strike.…”
Something darted across my mind. A business card being handed to me, in Paris.
He saw me frowning and thought it was him. “Lucy, I’m sorry: I’m just—”
“What if you could just call up an air strike?”
“What?”
“What if we called in outside help?”
He shook his head. “Lucy, we don’t have treaties with anyone yet – certainly not with the US.”
“Not the US: the French! You have all sorts of deals happening with them, right?”
He sat down on the bed uncertainly. “Lucy, they want to deal with
Asteria, the country. They have no loyalty to me. They may just decide to talk to the new rulers.”
“But the country’s in disarray. You’re still the Prince of Asteria.” I handed him the hotel phone. “Only one way to find out. Call them. Call them and tell them we need their help.”
He stared at me. “We’ve ruled our own affairs for hundreds of years. If I bring in the French to win back the country for me, there’ll be consequences. It’ll color how people see me. And the French will expect something in return.”
“Do you want your country back with strings attached…or to leave it in the hands of those bastards?”
A long, long moment. Then, “Give me the phone.”
I passed it to him and left the room. Some things you need support for; some you need to do on your own.
***
An hour later, he found me down in the lobby. I’d tied my hair back and was trying to clear the place up a little – the hotel owner had only kept a skeleton staff on and thirty men make a lot of mess. Medenko probably would have said it was unseemly, or inappropriate for the Exkella, but I figured it was the least I could do. Dagus, the skinny kid, was helping: seeing me taking out the trash didn’t seem to have done anything to diminish my mystique: he was still following me around like a love-struck puppy.
I knew it was done as soon as I saw Jagor’s face. He looked tired, in a way I’d never seen before. I followed him quickly back to the room.
“They’re coming,” he said as soon as we were inside. “Troops, and tanks, and whatever we need. Air strikes, if it comes to that.”
I felt the lurch of doubt inside. What had I started? But Jagor came closer and pulled me into his arms.
“It’s over,” he told me. “The Asterian army’s no match for the French. They know that. They’ll back down. We may even be able to settle this without any more bloodshed.”
“And the cost?” I asked quietly.
He pressed his lips together. “Bearable. I’m going to talk with them again in a few hours: they want us to sit tight until then.” He sighed, and then smiled. “Stuck in a hotel room with my exkella.”
Asteria - In Love with the Prince Page 29