The show was for my benefit and I knew it. She could have used the standard voice interface and let the ship set up a course automatically, but she chose to show off for me instead. She wanted me to know that she knew how to pilot a starship by herself for some reason.
I watched, fascinated, wondering about her.
“Lady Vere—”
“Willow,” she said, leaning over very close. “We’re going to be in very close quarters for the next day. Please don’t stand on formality.”
“Day?” I asked. “Only one? So it really is that fast?”
Nodding, she said, “It really is that fast. Noir had it built specially — there’s no other starship like it.” Her chocolate brown eyes turned to me and caught my gaze. “If he knew you stole it, he’d have you killed in a heartbeat.”
She was right; every fiber in my body told me so. And she had me over a barrel because of it. I had stolen the starship, and she could turn me in if she wanted. Except she didn’t seem to have any desire to turn me in. In fact, she’d helped me leave New Rome. Why? What did she want with me?
For a brief, panicking second, I imagined that Prince Vere knew nothing of the murders, and that Lady Vere was behind them instead. It made sense, if she didn’t believe that her husband was invulnerable as he thought himself. She would want to ensure that Prince Vere’s succession claim was as strong as possible, and what better way to do that than to eliminate his competition for him?
I realized that I hadn’t seen or heard Prince Vere in the hatchway, only Lord Noir. I had assumed it was Prince Vere, but could it have been Lady Vere instead? Had she returned to the ship while I was searching it the first time, and I just missed her by coincidence the second time around?
Then there was the fact that she had a burner. Why?
My knees started shaking. Had I delivered myself into the hands of a murderer?
I swallowed hard. There was nothing to do but try to find out where I stood. For the first time in a very long time, I was alone without Lord Oswald, hurtling through space at the mercy of someone I barely knew. I was frightened.
“What do we do now?” I asked.
She laughed. “Nothing. Just relax. We’ll be in Oasis late tomorrow night. Let’s get some sleep.”
She got up and showed me to the captain’s cabin, complete with a private bathroom. “I’ll be ... uh ... right next door,” she said, lowering her eyes shyly, “if you need anything.”
I thanked her and declined.
She smiled and left me alone.
It was still early yet, so I amused myself going through Lord Noir’s personal effects in his cabin. I managed to break into his cabin computer, a skill I’d acquired while in Lord Oswald’s employ and found useful occasionally. One of the more interesting items was a list of special comlink codes and an encryption algorithm that Noir used for coded messages. I memorized them, figuring they’d come in handy if I got into a tight spot while on the Raven.
The most interesting thing I found, by far, was a schematic of the starship. I was able to trace the circuits of all those interesting buttons and gadgets. Over the next couple of hours, I learned as many facets of the starship that I could.
The reason I couldn’t open the hatch was that it was gencoded. There was even a special circuit that set off a lethal electrical shock if the hatch detected forcible entry. Or exit, I presumed. I shuddered with the realization that I’d been very close to perishing just trying to get off the ship.
I also found out that it was a good thing I didn’t say anything in response to New Rome’s queries. The controls were voice-activated. Despite Lady Vere’s insistence on setting our flight path manually, she had effectively logged in to the system when she answered New Rome for me. Her voiceprint was already registered with the system, so the ship allowed her to set the course to Greengarden. And she voice verified the course change, too, I realized upon reflection.
Had I tried to respond to New Rome, my voiceprint would have failed, and all sorts of intruder-detection safeguards would have gone off. By the time I finished interpreting the schematics, I was terrified to set foot outside the captain’s cabin. This ship was a lethal weapon to any unwelcome visitor.
I tried to get some sleep, worried that the Raven would kill me in my sleep. What if I’d overlooked some odd little circuit that matched my snoring to Noir’s recorded snoring?
For that matter, was I sure there was nobody else on board? My search had turned up empty, yet Lady Vere was asleep just next door. Maybe there was some unknown assassin on the yacht, too. Just in case, I slipped a blue hair in an inconspicuous crevice of the doorway, where it would surely be dislodged should the door open. Since the locks weren’t gencoded for me, it wouldn’t stop an authorized person’s access to the room to kill me, but I felt a little better knowing I could at least detect someone’s entrance.
Despite my nervousness, I managed to slip off to sleep, staring up at the ceiling.
Moments later — at least that’s what it seemed like — I was aware of a slight shaking in the bed. I woke somewhat, but I was still groggy.
Not so groggy that I didn’t recognize the feel of someone sliding under my covers, though, and tugging my pants down.
I felt Lady Vere’s warm breath on my neck, and then she pressed up against my side. I felt her bare nipple brush my arm as she put her lips close to my ear. “I decided that I needed something,” she whispered, and nibbled on my earlobe.
That got me fully awake all over. I tried to move my arm, but found she’d straddled it. All I ended up doing was moving my hand somewhat, which brushed a rather intimate part of Lady Vere’s anatomy that I probably shouldn’t have been touching.
Lady Vere moaned.
I tried to pull my hand away, but she squeezed her thighs together to hold my hand there. She moaned again and purred.
“Lady V—”
“Willow,” she whispered, and laid a finger across my lips.
“Lady Willow. I can’t do this.” I wrenched my hand away.
She giggled, then climbed on top of my stomach, straddling me, grinding her hips into me. She reached behind her with both hands and tested my resolve. “I think you can,” she said demurely and bent forward to take my hands and pull them to her small breasts, which fit perfectly in my huge hands.
She tried to slide further down and reposition herself for a more engaging pleasure, but I let go of her soft breasts and grabbed her equally soft buttocks, keeping her in place.
“Okay, I can,” I admitted, somewhat breathlessly. “But I shouldn’t, Lady Willow. It’s not right.”
I had to admit, though, it was all talk. We were out in space, alone, where nobody would ever know what had happened, and she was a very attractive woman. And very persuasive. I’d unwittingly watched Lady Redwing parade half-naked before me, and I’d reluctantly spurned half-naked Jewel, Empress of the Eighty three Worlds of the Eternal Empire, all in the name of righteousness.
Frankly, I was getting tired of being strong in the face of temptation. Why did I do this to myself? Was I saving my affections for Lady Redwing, who’d never return them? Why?
I hadn’t found my desire this powerful since the time on Oasis my Lord and I spent at Highland Lassies, when we dressed up in kilts and the ladies blew our bagpipes all night. And deep down, despite the fact that Willow was married — to Prince Vere, no less, my Lord’s rival in the emperor’s court — I really wanted her.
She moaned again and said, “You wouldn’t want Noir to find out that you’re on his ship, now would you?”
I gave in and let her slide down, while my interest was still high.
***
I woke in the morning refreshed and alert, for a change. I hadn’t slept that well since Lord Oswald had received the call to New Rome more than a week before. Disoriented, I silently gave thanks for this blessing, trying to remember what I’d done that deserved such a deep sleep, blinked my eyes and looked around the strange room I was sleeping in.
> I jumped up from the bed, naked and fuzzy-headed, as the night’s memory starting coming back to me.
What was I thinking? Bedding Prince Vere’s wife couldn’t bode well for me, I was sure of that.
Although she seemed to enjoy herself last night....
No, no, no. That wasn’t the point. I glanced around the cabin, not recognizing the room.
Noir. Noir’s starship, the Raven.
Rushing to the door, I found my blue hair barely mussed. I breathed out a sigh of relief with the realization that it was just a dream. A really, really nice dream, but … not real.
I flopped back down on the bed and buried my face in the blanket, thinking.
Yesterday, everything had seemed so clear. Lord Oswald convinced me to check out Noir’s starship, I got trapped and foolishly tried to fly out of there with no plan.
Viewed in the cold light of morning, it seemed incredible that I’d done all of that. It was very unlike me. But then, there was a woman involved.
Lady Phoenix Redwing. The woman I admired greatly, and vowed to help her find love with my Lord.
Lady Willow Vere. The woman who’d stirred me like no other, then starred in my most recent fantasies, rather explicitly.
Okay, two women involved.
Hannah once told me that men would do virtually anything for the woman they loved. They’d climb mountains, endure excruciating torture, even practice celibacy willingly.
I looked at her incredulously through my twelve-year-old eyes and stuck my tongue out at her.
“That, too,” she said slyly, and never explained.
A few years later, when I understood her comment, I found myself giving the same lecture to a school friend whose name I’ve since forgotten. He thought love was a one-way affair, that women had to prove their love by doing whatever a man asked of them, but it was a man’s right to treat women any way they pleased. He was a history buff, and he cited several periods of Old Earth’s history to support his assertation.
We came to blows eventually; his views were very foreign to me. It didn’t help that he leered at Hannah when he thought I wasn’t looking. Twelve-year-old boys can be overly protective of their sisters, but I know better than to underestimate Hannah now.
Women had the upper hand in any relationship, as evidenced by the fact that so many women throughout history — both Old Earth’s and the Empire’s — found a way of getting men to do their bidding for them.
Lady Vere was a good example. Obviously, she’d had some training as a starship pilot at some point. Yet, she had married Prince Vere and become a society lady. Why didn’t she pursue a career as a pilot? She could have been wealthy and independent. Then again, wasn’t she wealthy and independent now? And she accomplished that without the hassle of the daily grind as a career pilot. If she decided to bear children, she’d still remain wealthy and independent. As a pilot alone, she’d give up some of that wealth to the late stages of pregnancy and the early stages of nursing. And she’d give up some her independence to the child-rearing.
She had neither of those problems as the wife of Prince Vere, favored heir to the Eternal Empire.
It was all a question of priorities, and Willow had gotten hers straight before deciding what she wanted to do with her life. More than likely, she led Prince Vere down the path to matrimony without him ever knowing exactly why he was doing it.
Hannah was right; we did do anything for the women we loved.
I certainly had.
I stole an imperial senator’s starship and then colluded with a prince’s wife to cover up the theft, even though both the senator and maybe the prince could have me tortured and murdered for either crime. And all for the love of a woman.
What Hannah didn’t tell me was that we’d do it even if the women didn’t love us back.
Was what I did so wrong if it was for Lady Redwing?
I wasn’t sure I had any dignity to lose anyway.
Lifting my head from the bed, I imagined Willow next to me.
She’d lay on her stomach, her bare back exposed almost fully. Her head would rest on a pillow facing me, a sweet smile on her lips. Her platinum blonde hair would fall around her head in a mane, some of it covering her face while she slept.
Sighing, I called out her name softly without thinking.
The door fluttered open a few seconds later and Willow smiled sleepily at me from the doorway. “Good morning,” she murmured.
I found it interesting that she didn’t show any signs of noticing that I was naked, even after I hastily covered myself with the bed sheet. I found it even more interesting that she didn’t seem to find the surroundings unfamiliar.
Perhaps I was just too sensitive to surprises.
I blinked, telling myself that what I’d dreamed last night was because it had been a while since I’d been with a woman, but I didn’t believe myself. I’d dreamed it because I wanted to, and I knew it. Lying to myself didn’t serve any purpose except self torture.
“I’ll make breakfast,” I said, a little embarrassed by my nakedness because she wasn’t, and she closed the door so I could dress.
I found her waiting in the galley, intending to make my all-out-for-guests number three breakfast, but I couldn’t find all the ingredients, so I settled for a basic breakfast with some type of eggs I’d never seen before and grilled mystery meat.
One advantage of living in the Eternal Empire is that you always knew what you were eating was digestible, even if you didn’t know what you were eating. Over the years with Lord Oswald, I’d eaten an incredible variety of food that I never recognized. I’d learned not to ask too many questions.
Willow thought my breakfast was wonderful. Mentally, I thanked my parents for their gift of nine meals, and Hannah for teaching me the value of improvisation.
“Why are you here?” I asked Willow after a few bites.
She looked surprised. “Shouldn’t I ask you that?”
I hung my head and stared at my breakfast. “You’re right. I’m the intruder, not you.”
Reaching out to pull up my chin, she looked me straight in the eyes and said, “You’re not an intruder; you’re my guest.”
She smiled, and so did I.
“I need to fetch Lady Redwing for Prince Oswald.”
She considered this for a moment. “Why?”
I explained, trying to be as diplomatic as possible, given that she was the wife of my Lord’s chief competition for control of the Eternal Empire. I hadn’t intended to tell her about Lord Sumter’s murder, or our almost-interlude with the empress, but she was so easy to talk to, I ran my mouth more than I should have under the circumstances.
She nodded when I talked about her husband’s tigerdeer hunt, but I would have been surprised if she hadn’t heard about it already. When I mentioned Jewel, her nose twitched and her bright countenance faded, her lips resolved into a hard, straight line.
“That woman,” — she spat out the word — “is a tramp. She sleeps with just anyone. I hear she doesn’t even wear any underwear, so she can get in a quickie wherever she is.” Willow’s eyes sparked fire as she spoke about the empress.
“Red panties,” I corrected absently. “Crotchless.”
“Really?” Willow looked amused. “It figures. Slut.”
I suppressed a smile and wondered if she knew about the rumors that Prince Vere was bedding the empress regularly. One thing that was remarkably consistent about rumors was that the objects of the rumors were usually the last to hear them.
Something must have shown in my face, because she glanced at me and said, “I know what you’re thinking. Do I know about Hunter and Jewel?” Her eyes flashed again. “Of course I know. Everybody knows. Except Hunter, of course; he’s too stupid to realize they’re talking about him behind his back. He thinks everyone loves him just because he’s handsome.”
I felt myself coloring slightly, once again getting embarrassed on behalf of Willow, because she wasn’t.
“I’ve never caught
them at it, nor has anyone else that admits to it, so I can’t prove anything....”
Except that Prince Vere and Empress Jewel both wore identical blue sapphire earrings, as if they were a matched set.
Willow pointed a finger at me and said, “It’s Noir you have to watch. He’s up to something, but I’m not sure what.” She put her finger down and stared off into space for a while. “Have you noticed that an awful lot of heirs have had accidents recently?”
I swallowed. True to rumor form, she apparently hadn’t heard the rumors about Prince Vere’s involvement with the murders yet. I politely informed her I hadn’t noticed the accidents, but now that she mentioned it, it did seem odd.
At first, I dismissed the suspicion that she was personally involved in the murders, but after some reflection, I reversed my decision. If she was the murderer, what better way to squash my suspicions that with a question like that?
It occurred to me that Willow still hadn’t answered my original question. Why was she on the Raven?
I asked, “Who was with Lord Noir in the jumpport just before I tried to lift off?”
Willow laughed. “That was me. I asked if I could borrow the Raven for a while, just to fly around. It relaxes me.”
So that was why she was aboard. Lord Noir had promised to take care of the red tape so she could take off, and she’d returned to the ship, closing the hatch behind her.
Slapping her hands over her mouth to try to contain her laughter, Willow closed her eyes, which began to tear from the exertion. Eventually she composed herself and grabbed my arm. “Noir’ll just die when he finds out I left Eternity!”
I stared at Willow. “What will he do when he finds out?”
“Oh, nothing,” she said, dismissing me with a wave of her hand. “He’ll call me on the comlink, I’ll tell him I needed a little time alone, he’ll live with it.”
It struck me that Willow didn’t view Noir as a threat at all. Why not? Did she have some kind of hold over Noir? Every other heir seemed terrified of Noir, but she seemed to think he was harmless. Why?
I tried to put those suspicions out of my mind and we finished breakfast in relative silence.
Ninth Euclid's Prince Page 16