“Do you really think people are going to support the return of the monarchy?” he demanded, with a gesture toward the windows, to the billions of Realm citizens out there. “What about the Tellaran Council? What about the people of the other worlds? The ones who don’t have royalty ready to climb over the backs of the people to reach the throne?”
“Heirs will be found for those worlds. Even the Tellaran royal family left a few offshoots when they were wiped out. As far as the Tellaran Council goes, those who will oppose us won’t see another sunrise. And,” she said with a quick smile behind her as the door opened. “some have actually been our allies all along.”
“Gods,” Jolar whispered when he saw who stood in the doorway”
“You see, Jolar?” Jasa asked. “We really do have people everywhere.”
Arissa took a step back. “Where’s Bruscan?” she asked stupidly.
Larner’s smile disappeared. “I don’t know.”
“Why—why did you do this?”
Larner gave a slight frown. “Do what?”
Arissa swallowed. “Kill all these people.”
“I didn’t.” He tilted his head. “Then you didn’t kill them?”
“No,” she whispered. He really hadn’t. She glanced around at the ruin of Bruscan’s office, his home. “If you didn’t—What are you doing here?”
A look of mild surprise crossed his face. “You asked me for my recommendations for suppliers.”
“What?”
“For the Fleet contract your husband is administering.” Larner pulled a small datapad from his pocket. “I have researched and complied a list of six companies that I recommend. I came to discuss my findings.”
He offered the datapad to her.
Shakily she took it. She glanced at the list. He had included their holdings, earnings projections for the next five years, personnel profiles . . .
“That’s why you’re here?”
“Yes.” His flat gaze went to the body of the chef in the hall. “Does she look afraid? I wish I knew what people were feeling,” he said longingly. “I don’t know unless they tell me.”
Arissa gave a short, half-hysterical laugh. “I wish I didn’t know how they were feeling. I can’t stop.”
He looked at her, his eyes intently focused on her. “Is it something you could teach me?”
Arissa swallowed. “I don’t know.”
“I study people’s faces. I can make their expressions but I don’t know when I ought to.” His glance went over her face, his slight frown returning. “Are you afraid now?”
“Yes,” Arissa said. “Very.”
“Of me?”
Arissa reached out and brushed his peculiar, rigidly structured mind. He felt emotions of his own but he was baffled by the expression on her face.
“No,” she said, her shoulders falling. “No, I’m not.” Arissa took in the destruction of the house. “You didn’t find Bruscan?”
“No,” Larner said mildly. “But I didn’t search the whole property. It is possible he is here.” Larner took a step back. “I have an appointment in an hour. Good evening, Mistress Legan. Feel free to contact me about my recommendations.”
I can’t feel anyone but Larner. If Bruscan’s here, he’s dead. If he’s not dead I have no idea how to find him and no time to figure out how.
Larner was going to walk away from this carnage without a thought and continue on with his evening. He wasn’t a man who would be swayed by her appeals for help, not using any of the means at her disposal.
She couldn’t go to SerSec, the only evidence she had that Jolar was in danger at all was telepathic.
“Wait,” Arissa said quickly, realizing there was something Larner would be agreeable to doing. “If you have a shuttle, perhaps you could drop me somewhere?”
There was only one other person on Sertar who could help her save Jolar now.
Someone with no reason to help me—and every reason not to.
Thirty-one
Larner’s shuttle lifted off behind her. It was full dark now, the courtyard deserted around her as Arissa ran for the door of the mansion. She slipped on the marble stairs, hammering on the estate’s door even as she caught herself against it.
I know you’re here!
Frantic, Arissa pounded again. Surely there were security eyes focused here, they could see her out here, she was sure of it.
I know you’re here!
After an agonizingly long moment the door opened.
“Arissa?” Kemma frowned, her alarm rippling. The Ornament was dressed for an evening in. Her brilliant gold-red hair was loose around her shoulders and she was clad in a silver shimmersilk tunic and trousers, a dark blue wrap around her shoulders against the evening chill. “What are you doing here?”
“You have to let me in!”
“Of course.” Kemma stepped aside to allow Arissa into the foyer, then closed the outside door. “Come on, come in here,” Kemma urged leading her across the foyer and into a sitting room. “What’s wrong?”
Arissa barely glanced at the parlor’s gold and green décor, the sinuous lines of the furniture. “I need your help.”
“My help?” Kemma’s frown deepened. “What do you need my help with?”
Arissa wet her lips. “You’re a Seer, aren’t you?”
Kemma’s face went white. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It took me a while to figure it out,” Arissa said in a rush. “You’re so good at handling people, you always know exactly the right thing to say.”
Kemma’s nostrils flared. “I’m an Ornament,” she said tartly. “When I get paid to put something in my mouth, I guarantee you, it’s not a foot.”
“That could just be your Ornament training,” Arissa agreed. “But from what Lian says you’re an amazing card player.”
Kemma gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “So I’m lucky! It happens.”
“No,” Arissa said. “I think you’re a good Ornament, a good card player because you know how people are feeling, maybe even what they’re thinking. You knew on the Queen’s Light that Jolar and I were new to each other, not married for years like we said. You thought we were on our honeymoon.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Kemma said coldly. “You two were all over each other. It was an honest mistake.”
“You slipped the day we went shopping in Tano-Sertar. You said I was new at shopping. There’s no way you could have known that.”
Kemma’s green eyes narrowed. “I’ll tell you what I do know. I know you’ve been lying about a lot. You’re not who you say you are, Arissa, and neither is Jolar. He’s your lover but he’s not your husband, is he?”
“No,” Arissa admitted. “I met Jolar a couple of weeks ago on Tellar. He brought me to Sertar. He’s—we’re—investigating . . . something.”
Kemma was watching her warily. “So what do you want from me? Money?”
Arissa hesitated. She wasn’t sure what she needed. Jolar was in danger, she had to find him but she had to rescue him too. “Maybe.”
Kemma’s sense suddenly became heavy with resignation.
“I’m sorry, Kemma,” Arissa said sincerely. “I consider you a friend.”
“Yeah,” Kemma said. “I’m sorry, too.”
“Kemma,” Arissa began, squaring her shoulders. “Listen, I’m a—”
Someone’s behind me!
Arissa didn’t even have time to turn. She arched against the pain in her back as the blaster bolt hit her.
Just before the world went black she felt Kemma’s absolutely genuine regret.
Jolar’s stomach sank as Rekan entered then closed the door behind him, his last hope for Arissa’s safety now crushed.
“Councilor d’Barat.” Jolar’s lip curled. “What about your oath to the Tellaran Council? To the republic?”
Rekan spared him smug glance, his own blaster holstered at his hip. “You didn’t think I would side against my own kind, did you? I have every reason to want to
see my birthright restored.”
“What about her?” Jasa asked sharply. “Arissa?”
“Safely locked away at the embassy.” Rekan assured as he came into the room. “I saw to it myself.”
Jasa gave a satisfied nod. “And the other matter?”
“Milin’s dead.”
“You killed Bruscan?” Jolar cried. “Gods, why?”
“I didn’t have anything against him personally,” Jasa replied, and to her credit she looked regretful. “But like you, he was working for Dacel. He might have been motivated to interfere if he discovered he couldn’t reach either of you. I didn’t—we didn’t work this hard to have things go wrong now.” Jasa gave Rekan a smile. “Did we?”
“Just a few more hours,” Rekan said softly. “And all those years of work will bear fruit.”
Rekan pressed a kiss to Jasa’s mouth and then stood protectively at her side.
“Ah,” Jolar murmured. “Now I understand.”
Jasa gave him a half smile. “You mean why I don’t mind about your little plaything?”
“My apologizes, Jasa,” Jolar said with false humor. “You didn’t send that Utavian to kill me on Tellar. Rekan did.”
“No, he—” Jasa glanced at Rekan and her nostrils flared. “You tried to kill Jolar?”
“More than once, actually,” Jolar said. “He tried again at Danlen’s estate. Those Utavians he sent killed everyone. They leveled the place trying to kill me.”
“They said they had killed you.” Rekan briefly bared his teeth. “I should have told them to bring me your body—” Rekan narrowed his gaze “—or eyes, as proof.”
“You—?” Jasa pushed him from her side. Rekan’s face reddened and he caught himself against a chair.
“What about Cenon?” she demanded.
“Our Sertarian allies will find another royal princess—or prince,” Rekan said sharply, leveling his gaze at her as he straightened. “You know it was doubtful that Cenon would ever be well enough to produce an heir. We don’t need the thorny question of succession coming so soon. Besides we’re better off with someone easier to control than Danlen was proving to be.”
“That’s why,” Jolar said, shaking his head. “It wasn’t for money or power. Danlen had all that. He loved Cenon. He wanted her to be crowned Princess of Sertar. That’s why he was so eager I think well of him. We were supposed to be allies.” Jolar raised an eyebrow at Jasa. “Or even family, I suppose. Once everyone started producing little heirs to marry off.”
Rekan gave Jolar a narrow glare, his grip tight on the chair back. “We don’t need him any more either.”
“He’s Prince of Zartan,” Jasa snarled. “Our prince. Of course we need him!”
Rekan straightened. “We can choose another to be prince.”
“He means himself,” Jolar said in mock helpfulness. He gave a nod in Rekan’s direction. “He’s a Zartani aristocrat too, in case you’ve forgotten. Kill me, take my crown,” Jolar raised his eyebrows, “obviously you’ve already helped yourself to my betrothed . . .”
Rekan’s lip curled. “As if you were deserving of her. As if you were ever faithful.”
“Not to Jasa,” Jolar agreed. “Not for a moment. And you know, Jasa,” he continued, folding his arms. “I’m feeling less and less guilty about breaking our betrothal contract with every passing minute.”
Rekan took a step forward. “Breaking—?”
“Gods, you didn’t think I wanted to marry her, did you, Rekan?” Jolar gave a short laugh. “I actually have Jasa to thank for making it to Commander’s rank. If I hadn’t been so reluctant to make my vows to her I would have left the Fleet years ago. But, you know, the retirement package works out to an extra thousand a month, so I guess I can’t complain.”
“I never did care for your so-called sense of humor, Jolar,” Jasa snapped. “I suggest you keep quiet now or I will stun you ‘til this is over.”
“If he broke the betrothal contract—” Rekan took Jasa by the shoulders, searching her face. “I know you don’t want him. Beloved, why are you doing this?”
In a moment of heart-wrenching clarity Jolar saw the way out of this. The way to end Jasa and Rekan’s treason, the way to keep his promise to Dacel, the way to protect the republic he’d worked so hard to protect.
And the only way to save Arissa.
Someday, gods, let her forgive me. And though the thought almost made him nauseous, he begged, Arrena, let her find someone to spend her life with, to care for her as I wanted to do.
Jolar stepped beside Jasa. “Because Jasa needs me to frack to make her dynasty. Oh, come on, Rekan. Haven’t you figured out that she aims higher than even Princess of Zartan? She wants her pretty backside,” Jolar threw an appreciative glance at Jasa’s rump, “on the Tellaran throne to rule it all. For that she needs a Zartani prince who can make claim to the Tellaran crown too and become king. And to be blunt, that’s me, not you. Go on, Jasa,” Jolar invited. “Explain why my seed in your belly is so much better than his.”
“Jolar,” she warned, her voice low and dangerous.
“Is that true?” Rekan demanded, his grip tightening on her, his eyes furious. “That’s what you wanted him for? Because you thought I wasn’t good enough?”
“He’s our prince!” Jasa said impatiently, shrugging off Rekan’s hands. “He has the best claim to the Zartani crown and the Tellaran throne! Or have you forgotten what this is all about?”
“You know, Rekan,” Jolar said. “It’s kind of fun for me to see Jasa showing her temper to someone else for a change.”
“Shut up, Jolar!” Jasa hissed.
Rekan pointed at Jolar. “I didn’t do this so I could bend my knee to this son of a sular cow!”
“Why does everyone always bring my mother into things?” Jolar asked. “Don’t you understand, Jasa? He’s been working behind your back all this time. Two days ago Rekan sent Utavians Danlen thought were his allies to kill him and his wife – he probably got Danlen to let them past the security grid by saying they were extra guards to protect Cenon. He wants me dead so he can take the crown.”
“What did you expect?” Rekan demanded, his face red and furious. “That I was just going to let you get into bed with him?”
“You mean ‘back into bed with him’, don’t you?” Jolar asked. He feigned a frown. “Wait, he knows I’ve been fracking you all this time, doesn’t he, Jasa?”
Rekan’s face went almost purple.
“Oh, I guess not.” Jolar smirked. He put his hand over his heart and gave an abbreviated, mocking bow. “Well, my word as your prince, Rekan, she was always quite sated by the time I pulled out.”
Snarling, Rekan drew his blaster and took aim at Jolar’s heart.
In the next instant Rekan collapsed to the floor, unconscious from Jasa’s stun bolt.
Jolar sighed. “Now that is a shame.”
Jasa shot him a cold look. “Don’t worry. It’s a light stun. He’ll come around in a minute or so.” She shook her head at Jolar in disgust. “You think you’re so clever. That you could get us to argue, try to turn us against each other.”
“Oh, I wasn’t trying to do that at all.”
Jasa frowned, searching his face. “You wanted him to kill you.”
“Hard to keep those good souls fighting in my name after you’ve shot their prince.” Jolar gave a sardonic smile. “Without me your whole scheme is fracked, isn’t it?”
“Then how fortunate I was here to save you, darling.” Her blue eyes narrowed. “I’d forgotten how stupidly self-sacrificing you can be. And—just in case you think about doing that again—remember that you’re leaving your little bedmate to my tender mercies when you go.”
Jolar felt the blood drain from his face.
“I see. You thought that, with you dead, I’d have no use for her at all and I’d . . . what? Let her go? Oh no,” Jasa purred. “If you do succeed in taking yourself off the playing board, I give you my word, you’ll hear her screams all the way from th
e spirit world, Jolar.”
Thirty-two
Arissa came to, groaning.
She tried to bring her hand to her throbbing head and discovered she was tied to the chair she was sitting in. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision.
“What—?”
Kemma stood nearby, her body half turned away, her arms folded, her brow creased with worry.
Lian’s face was grim, a blaster held at his side.
“What—” Arissa shook her head. “Gods, what are you doing?”
“Actually that’s a good question, Lian,” Kemma said tightly. “What are you doing?”
“What the hell was I supposed to do?” Lian demanded. “She knows!”
Kemma ran her hands through her russet hair. “And now what? You’ll kill her?”
“Wait.” Arissa wet her lips. “Wait, please. You don’t want to do this.”
Lian’s face was taut. “Of course I don’t! But your husband, or whoever he is, is an investigator of some kind. So who is he? Military? TelSec? You know about Kemma—that’s why you came here. You came to blackmail her—or worse—because she’s a Seer!”
“No!” Arissa shook her head sharply. “Because I am!”
Kemma’s head whipped around. “What? What did you say?”
“I’m a Seer!” Arissa cried. “And I came here, Kemma, because I thought you would be the one person in the Realm who wouldn’t kill me!”
Lian took a half-step forward and Kemma quickly put her hand on his arm. “No, Lian, she’s telling the truth.”
“She can’t be, Kemma!” he insisted. “There aren’t any other Seers except you!”
“Oh, this is just fracking incredible!” Arissa choked out. “I hide my whole life and when I finally admit what I am, you don’t believe me?”
Kemma knelt to look up at her, her hands resting gently on Arissa’s knees.
“Hiding?” she asked urgently then, in a tender, sisterly gesture, Kemma brushed the ringlets out of Arissa’s eyes. “Who? Who hid you?”
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