The Emperor's Bride (Belles & Bullets Book 6)

by Caylen McQueen

  “This servant's name is Quan,” he said with a bow. “And you are the epitome of kindness, Your Ladyship.”

  “Really?” Jun's nose wrinkled at the thought. “I haven't said anything especially nice, though.”

  “You have a gentle spirit. Your servant can tell.”

  As she sipped her tea, Jun studied him in the corner of her eye. Quan was short and slight, but he was growing a meager mustache, so she struggled to guess his age. She assumed he was a few years younger than her, possibly seventeen or eighteen, but she wasn't sure.

  “Have you been crying, Your Ladyship?”

  When she heard his question, Jun sighed. She would have rather been alone, but Quan seemed friendly, so she hated to send him away. “Yes, I suppose I have.”

  “I hope this servant isn't being too intrusive, but... why are you sad, Your Ladyship?”

  “Because I don't want to get married.” The words flew from her lips, even though it was a potentially dangerous truth to reveal. “And you don't have to keep calling me Your Ladyship. It's too strange. Call me Jun.”

  “Why wouldn't you want to get married... Jun?” When he called her by her name, Quan grimaced, as if doing so was painful for him. “You were chosen by the emperor. Isn't that supposed to be an incredible honor?”

  “Imagine yourself in my situation for a moment, Quan. Would you want to marry the emperor? Would you want to kiss his lips and share his bed?”

  A sneer flickered onto his nose. “N-no. This servant doesn't think that would be a desirable fate.”

  “And that's precisely how I feel!” Jun exclaimed. “So I'll probably be crying for the rest of the day. And I'll be crying tomorrow, most likely. I'll be crying until...”

  Jun's voice trailed off when she saw the serving boy kneeling beside her bed. “Would you like this servant to help you escape?”

  “No! I couldn't ask you to do that! I wouldn't want anyone to put themselves at risk for me!” Despite her answer, Quan's offer was tempting. If he knew how to sneak away from the airship, how could she not take advantage of that? “But... I would like you to stop using the word servant.”

  “What word do you want this commoner to use?”

  Jun breathed a weary sigh. Quan seemed determined to disparage himself. Before she could reply, their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a well-dressed, heavily armed man. Without a word, he stomped to Quan's side and dragged the boy to his feet. “What do you think you're doing, scum?” The man screamed the words into Quan's ear, making his eyelids flutter. “Don't you know who this girl is? This girl is the future empress, and she doesn't have time to waste with the likes of you! What makes you think you're worthy to speak to her? I should give you a thrashing for this!”

  “This servant is sorry!” Quan whimpered. “Very sorry, sir!”

  The man held Quan by the neck as he jostled him to the door. “Do you think you deserve a thrashing, boy?”

  “This servant probably does, sir,” Quan squeaked.

  “How many lashes would you say you deserve? Ten? Twenty? Thirty?”

  “Please!” Jun had to interrupt. “Don't beat him! I asked him to stay and talk to me. I was... lonely.”

  “Is that so, my lady?” The man's eyes narrowed as he considered her claim. “Then... I suppose I can spare the boy.” He shoved Quan through the door and slammed it behind him. “The next time you get lonely, my lady, you should seek a more suitable companion. Someone such as myself.”

  “And who are you?”

  The man pressed his palms together and bowed deeply. When he dipped down, his long black locks poured over his shoulders. His eyes were as beautiful as they were dangerous, and the grin on his lips suggested he was a bit of a rogue. “I'm Prince Feng, my lady. The emperor's son. Well... I'm one of the emperor's sons, I should say. He has several. But I'm one of his favorites.” With a wink, he added, “I daresay I'll be one of your favorites as well.”

  “I doubt it,” Jun turned away from him. “You treated that boy so terribly!”

  “That boy deserved it,” Prince Feng shamelessly sat on the end of Jun's bed and ran a finger along her bare calf. “He's not worthy of your company. I am.”

  Jun jerked her leg away from him. “And why's that?”

  “Well, I'm a prince, for one. Until tomorrow, you're a nobody. Right now, you aren't worthy of my company. You should be glad I'm letting you breathe the same air as me.”

  When Feng leaned down to kiss her foot, Jun leapt from bed and sprinted away from him. “I'm supposed to be the emperor's bride, you know! I'm your father's bride! And you're being inappropriate!”

  “Do you think I care?” Prince Feng lethargically rose from the bed and stalked her around the room. “You know, I saw you in the courtyard the other day. I was hoping my father would choose you, Shuchun Jun. It's been a long time since I've seen a woman as beautiful as you. My father has good taste. If I wanted a wife, I would have chosen you for myself.”

  “Um...” She didn't quite know what to say. Feng was half his father's age, and he was certainly handsome. She could hardly deny he would have been a more appealing husband—even if he was slimy and caddish.

  The prince suddenly pinned her against the wall. When he tried to lean in for a kiss, Jun ducked under his arm and ran across the room. “You know, I could catch you if I wanted to,” said Feng, who looked amused by Jun's evasion of him. “It's not as if you can go anywhere. The door's locked, my dear. You can't escape.”

  Jun shoved a table in front of Feng, blocking his pursuit. But it was only a temporary obstruction. As he said, she had nowhere to run. “Please leave me alone,” she begged him. “Please. It's bad enough that I'll have to endure your father's advances.”

  “I know. And it's a shame he gets to have you first. Lucky him. But I will have you too, I can promise you that.”

  “You don't mind sharing a woman with your father?”

  “Not at all.” Feng shrugged. “Hell, I've done it before.”

  “And you don't see anything wrong with sleeping with one of your father's wives?”

  “Should I?” The prince threw back his head and laughed so loud, he nearly made himself choke. “Once again, love, I've done it before.”

  Jun shrieked, “But that's twisted!”

  “The women didn't seem to think so.”

  When he had her cornered, Jun kicked his shins. Undeterred, the prince shoved her against the wall, crushed his pelvis against her body, and buried his lips against her neck.

  “Ahh... you smell so sweet,” he whispered against her collarbone. “And your skin's so soft. I feel intoxicated.”

  Jun groaned as the prince dragged his tongue along her shoulder. “Please don't do this.”

  “Don't pretend you don't like it.” Lifting her up, Feng slid a hand under Jun's robe and groped her bare thigh. “My father will be doing all this and more, you know. And you won't be able to stop him. I've heard he's a terrible lover, by the way. And he won't be gentle. After one night with him, you'll be begging me to show you how a real lover treats his lady.”

  Jun had to remind herself he was a prince, or she would have been tempted to spit in his face. “I doubt it.”

  “Well, you seem to be in an unpleasant mood, so I'll leave you be... for now,” the prince said as he set her on her feet. “But you haven't seen the last of me.”

  When he moved to the door, Jun breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She certainly wasn't sad to see him go.

  “Oh, and the next time you take a bath, I'll be the one who bathes you,” Feng promised her as he slipped into the hall. “That's just something else we have to look forward to, Empress Jun.”

  Four

  Josiah Cole took a final drag from his cigarette before he flicked it to the ground and crushed it beneath his hard leather boot. In his long black coat and matching bowler hat, he exuded an air of danger. His height and build were somewhat average, but there was something about the way he carried himself that made him look like t
rouble was in his blood. He walked with confidence, and he carried himself like a man who was twice his size. And, of course, he was heavily armed.

  As he walked down the dusty roads of Busybee, more than one fawning female breathed a dreamy sigh as he passed. His crystal blue eyes made him irresistible, and his disarming smile could challenge the chastity of even the most virtuous women.

  “Josiah!” one of his many female fans called to him as he passed. “Josiah, it's Mary! Can you talk to me for a bit?”

  Josiah touched the brim of his hat in silent salutation, but he didn't stop walking. “I'm sorry, Miss Mary. Believe me, I'd love to, but I can't. I'm real busy.”

  “Awwww!” Mary shrilled with disappointment. “Well, if you ever have some free time, pay me a visit! I miss you, Jo!”

  “Josiaaaaaah!” Not a minute later, another young lady was crying his name. “Josiah Cole, where have you been? My bed feels cold without you.”

  Her comment turned his pale, freckled cheeks a bit red. “I, uh... I feel the same way, Miss Rosita. The next time I'm in Busybee, I'll be sure to pay you a visit.”

  “But you're in Busybee right now!” whined a pouty Rosita. “Can't you spare a moment of your time?”

  “I'm afraid I can't,” he regretfully informed her. “But the next time I roll through town, I'll owe you more than a moment. How's that sound?”

  Rosita didn't look satisfied, and neither did the next woman he had to reject. It was no surprise that he was in high demand with the ladies of Busybee. No matter where Josiah went, it was always the same story. In every street of every town, the women practically threw themselves in his path. He didn't even have to flirt; in fact, Josiah was terrible at flirting. The women always came to him. Always.

  When he reached the saloon, Josiah briefly removed his hat and scratched his scruffy blonde hair, which could look a bit ginger in the sunlight. His light beard was also a touch ginger, and it concealed a perfectly chiseled chin. Before he passed through the swinging doors, Josiah's gaze was pulled to the left, where a busty saloon girl was practically choking a young man with her tongue.

  It was his brother.

  “Hey!” Josiah thrust his hands into the pockets of his coat and swaggered to Flynn's side. “Hey. Boy. Get your tongue outta that girl's mouth and let's go. I need you.”

  Flynn tried to pull away, but Emma Cross wasn't ready to let go of him. Her fingers clutched his curly brown hair so tightly, he couldn't pry himself off.

  “Hey... Flynn? Did you hear me?” Josiah snapped his fingers three times and motioned toward the saloon's double doors. “We need to talk.”

  “Mmmmfffmm!” Flynn tried to speak, but his words were muffled by Emma's relentless lips. “Mmff mffm mmm!”

  Josiah grabbed the collar of Flynn's coat and dragged him away from the disappointed girl. “Damn, Flynn!” Josiah commended his little brother as he shoved him into the saloon. “You can't even talk to girls, but you still got one obsessed with you? I'm impressed.”

  Flynn didn't say anything, he simply nodded. He was impressed with himself too.

  Josiah clapped a hand on Flynn's shoulder and led him to Nicky Gunn's table. At the moment, Nicky was alone, quietly counting his winnings. Rollie went to the bar to flirt with a girl, while Jim Valentine stepped out to relieve himself.

  “Hey! Amberley!” Josiah exclaimed as he sank into the chair next to Nicky. “Amberley, I need you for something.”

  “Not Amberley,” Nicky hissed a sheepish reminder to his friend. “Gunn. Nicky Gunn.”

  “Whatever you say. Now, listen...” Josiah pulled his brother into the chair beside him. “I have a plan, you two, and I want to get you in on it.”

  “Sure. I'm in.” Flynn had no idea what his brother was planning, but he would have followed him anywhere. He was only nineteen, and Josiah was nearly a decade older. Respect for his older brother made him follow without question.

  “So, here's what I'm going to do...” Josiah pulled his companions' heads into a huddle and dropped his voice to a whisper. “I'm going to rob the hovertrain.”

  Nicky's eyebrow shot up. “Hoverwhat?”

  “Hovertrain.” Josiah slammed a newspaper on the tabletop and directed their attention to the page, where the hovertrain was briefly mentioned in a tiny article. “It's a new invention, apparently. It's a train that doesn't need tracks. Not a lot of people know about it yet, and I think there's a good reason they're keeping it a secret. The other day, I heard an interesting rumor. Apparently, it's transporting a lot of money.”

  “And you think this rumor's valid?” Nicky asked.

  “I do. I trust my source.” Josiah's blue eyes went wide and wild as he discussed his plan. “We need to ride up to the train, jump on board, and get to the lead car, because that's where the money's stashed.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Flynn said with a nod. “What about you, Nicky? You in?”

  “Yeah... naaaaah...” Nicky clenched his teeth and shook his head. “I think I'm gonna sit this one out. It sounds sketchy.”

  “What's sketchy about it?” Josiah sounded offended. “I already told you... I trust my source! You do know I'm only doing this to get your damn brother out of jail, right?”

  “Yeah. And I appreciate that, Jo. But I'm in the middle of the biggest winning streak of my life.” Nicky slammed his ten-gallon hat on his head and leaned back in his chair. “I'm not going to walk away from that for some half-cocked plan. There might not be any money on this thing!” He jabbed his finger against Josiah's newspaper article. “I'll get Pat out of jail, but I'll do it my own way. With gambling.”

  “Yeah. 'Cause that's worked out so well for you in the past!” Flynn heckled him. “Every time you get on a winning streak, you end up losing everything.”

  “I'll be more cautious this time! I just need a couple more wins, and that'll be that.”

  Josiah gave his bearded chin a few rough strokes. Ever since Patrick Amberley got himself locked up, Josiah felt like Patrick's little brother was his responsibility. The sooner he got Pat out, the sooner he could wash his hands of “Nicky Gunn.”

  “I hope you're successful with your train thing, though,” Nicky continued, “Oh, and by the way, when you return, I'll probably be down at The Hole. I'm going to try my luck over there.”

  “The Hole?” Josiah groaned into the palm of his hand. “You're liable to get yourself killed over there, you know. It's dangerous.”

  “I'll be careful! Damn! You two are acting like a couple of disapproving mothers! Why don't you have any faith in me?” As he ranted, Nicky shoveled his money into the pockets of his coat.

  “Maybe 'cause I've had to save your ass from more than a few scrapes?” Josiah flatly replied. “And when I get back to Busybee after the hovertrain job, I'll probably have to save your ass again... assuming you're not dead already.”

  “I'll be fine!” Nicky insisted. “Now... get out of my face. You two are killing my fun.”

  Before leaving the table, Josiah stole a shot of whiskey from Nicky. Without another word, he left the saloon with his brother.

  “You really think Nicky will be okay at The Hole?” Flynn asked as they passed through the saloon's swinging doors.

  Josiah's shoulders popped into a shrug, as if Nicky's fate was no concern of his. “Oh, probably not. But I can't babysit that boy forever, can I? I'm not his mommy.” With a snort, he added, “Thank god.”

  * * *

  Josiah Cole mounted his dappled gray steed, raised the monocular, and scanned the area. He and his brother were perched on the highest hill as they awaited the hovertrain's arrival. So far, there wasn't a single sign of life on the barren plain, apart from the screeching buzzard that circled overhead.

  “See anything yet?” Flynn asked, leaning forward to give his bay's ears a scratch.

  Josiah shook his head. “Not yet.”

  “What if it never comes this way?”

  Josiah sneered at his younger brother's skepticism. “Oh, it'll come. You ju
st have to be patient.”

  “But what if it doesn't?”

  “It will.”

  “But what if it doesn't?” Flynn asked the question a third time. “If it never comes, then I left Emma Cross and got sunburnt for nothing. I'm not going to be happy.”

  “Pick a hat with a wider brim next time,” Josiah barked some idle advice. “Now have some faith and stop complaining!”

  Another ten minutes ticked by, and then another. Josiah checked his tarnished pocket watch, and a few minutes later, he checked it again. If his source was correct, the hovertrain was running twenty minutes late.

  “So...” After a long period of silence, Flynn finally spoke again. “At what point do we give up and ride back to Busybee?”

  “We don't.” His older brother's answer was firm. “Be patient, dammit.”

  A few minutes later, Josiah's staunch patience was rewarded. He heard the hovertrain's low whistle before he saw it appear. The next time he raised the monocular, his thumping heart punched against his breastbone. The hovertrain consisted of roughly ten cars connected together, and each one was shaped like a massive silver bullet. Every car was powered by its own steam engine, and on the back of each bullet, there was a large smokestack from which the engine's steam escaped. Josiah's plan was to rope one of the smokestacks and climb aboard. His brother had already been briefed on the plan, so there was nothing left to say except for, “You ready, Flynn?”

  His brother quietly replied, “Sure am.”

  As soon as the hovertrain reached an appropriate distance, Josiah screamed, “yah!” When he flicked her reins, the speckled gray mare raced down the hill in the direction of the speeding train. Josiah and his horse charged at top speed, and as they neared their destination, the older brother readied his lasso. He planned to climb aboard one of the middle cars, but when the hovertrain made a sharp and sudden turn, Josiah had to make up some ground. Because it wasn't restricted to a track, it was impossible to predict when and how the hovertrain would move. As it glided forward, the train looked a bit like a desert serpent, only it was slithering a few feet off the ground.