by Vicky Savage
Together we walk around the building to where Josh and my driver wait patiently under the eaves of one of the shops. I pile into the carriage without acknowledging either of them. I’d like to tell Ralston to ride up front with the driver so I can be alone, but then I’d have to speak to him. He climbs inside and takes the seat opposite mine. I can barely stand to look at him. Folding my arms across my chest, I lean my head against the high-backed seat and close my eyes.
“Are you cold?” he asks. “Would you like my coat?”
“No. Just tired,” I say, not opening my eyes. Turning my head away, I pretend to sleep, while my brain grapples with all the implications of my new knowledge of him. Ralston didn’t maliciously try to hurt me. I know that. He can’t help it, he’s just a machine. Regardless, I’m consumed with feelings of anger and betrayal. Neither of us speaks a word all the way to Warrington Palace. The moment the carriage comes to a halt in the courtyard, I dart out the door and hurry inside to my room.
Setting the shower knob to scalding hot, I stand beneath the spray for as long as I can endure it. Could things get any more confusing? I thought I had it all figured out, and now I feel adrift at sea. I belong with Ryder, of that I’m certain. So why did Narowyn have to lay a big guilt trip on me? Like I’m being unfair to him and myself if I marry him. Did she think she was helping me? Or was she just playing me—using reverse psychology or something? Knowing I’ll never see Asher again, makes me sad. He’s a sweet guy, and I’ll miss him.
Then there’s Ralston. I thought he was my friend. Now I find out he’s just an instrument of IUGA, an organization of highly questionable motives and means. I fired him once. I just may need to do it again.
Wrapping up in my robe, and sinking down on top of my bedcovers, I close my eyes. Sleep would be nice, but Mother’s expecting me at dinner, and Ryder’s coming tonight. I need to put on my game face and get through this evening somehow.
Ordinarily, my time gossiping with and being pampered by Maria is immensely enjoyable, but tonight I just want to get the groom and gab session over with as quickly as possible. I can’t really tell her what’s on my mind—like, Hey I just found out my best friend’s a robot. Then it hits me, I may never have a best friend again for the rest of my life. Someone who knows where I really came from and what I’ve been through. The thought leaves me depressed. Goddamn Ralston! Sensing my foul mood, Maria works efficiently and quietly, and soon has me presentable for dinner at the palace.
“The queen has requested that you visit the music room before dinner to see the beautiful wedding gifts that have arrived for you,” she says. “I believe you will be pleased. There are many exquisite and exotic things.”
“Thanks, Maria.” I pat her hand. “I’m going to wait for Ryder, but we’ll be sure to go by.”
She curtseys and quietly closes the door as she leaves. Pacing my room, I feel at loose ends. Running my hand along the smooth wood of the princess’s hope chest, my thoughts wander to my upcoming wedding. A flurry of butterflies reminds me how much I’m looking forward to it, but part of me wishes all the hoopla was over and Ryder and I were already married and living together.
A knock at my door pulls me out of my reverie. “Jade, may I come in?”
It’s Ralston. The butterflies drop like lead pellets to the bottom of my stomach. What do I do? Send him away? Tell him to go to hell? Or use him the way he’s been using me for whatever information I can wheedle out of him?
“Come in,” I call.
He opens the door and leans in, looking handsome and human in his formal dinner attire. “I came to check on you, my dear. You seemed downhearted after your trip this afternoon. Did everything go all right?”
“Yes,” I say curtly. “It was rather enlightening, actually. I learned some things about IUGA that I didn’t know before.”
His brow creases. “What did the Transcenders tell you? Did they imply that IUGA will not keep its bargain with you? I assure you IUGA is operating with the utmost of integrity where you are concerned.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What about you?”
He seems mystified. “What do you mean?”
A butler walks up behind Ralston and clears his throat. “Excuse me, sir,” he says nodding in my direction. Ralston steps away from the door. The butler stands at the threshold and bows. “Your Highness, Chief Ryder Blackthorn is here to see you.”
“Thank you. I’ll be right there.”
Following the butler out, I brush past Ralston. “Please excuse me,” I say coldly. “My fiancé is waiting.”
“Jaden …” Ralston says.
I flash him a withering look. He’s not supposed to address me informally in front of the servants. Automatons shouldn’t screw up like that.
“I beg your pardon, Your Highness,” he says. “May we continue our conversation later?”
“I’ll let you know.” I turn and walk away.
Ryder waits for me in the main foyer. The sight of him floods me with relief, and I rush to greet him. He attempts a bow, but I fling my arms around his waist before he can right himself. “What’s all this?” he says, laughing.
“I missed you today.” Looking up into the handsome face that never fails to set my pulse racing, I take his hand. “Come with me. Mother sent word that some wedding gifts have arrived. She wants us to have a look at them.” We make our way through the maze of hallways to the music room.
I’m astonished to find the room utterly transformed. Furniture and instruments have been removed, and rows of long tables have been set up. White floor-length cloths hung with royal bunting cover the tables. Gifts of all shapes, sizes, and substances have been arranged on top. Ryder ambles to the first table. Removing the card from the silver holder in front of a pair of tall, ornate candlesticks, he reads it to me. “From Lord Robert and Lady Jocelyn Bard. Venetian Candlesticks.”
Lord Robert is on Mother’s Council of Advisors. “Hmm, pretty,” I say. “We can use those. What’s next?” I pull the card from the holder in front of the neighboring gift, a porcelain sculpture of a naked young woman embracing a fawn. “From Dr. and Mrs. Carl Pressfield. Wood Nymph.” I tap the card against my hand. “I don’t think I know them.”
“They’re from Unicoi Village. He heads the new Keowe Hospital.”
“Oh. Beautiful.” We move on to the next gift. “What in the world is this?” I say. It looks like a small furry replica of a fargen, with a flat, leather-upholstered back.
“No idea.” He picks up the card. “From The Right Honorable Justice Kent. Fargen Footstool.”
We both laugh. Ryder takes it from the table and sets it on the floor. “Someone has a sense of humor,” he says.
“Where will we ever put this?” I grasp a handful of skirts and step up onto the stool. It raises me to nearly Ryder’s height. “Come here,” I say.
He draws near, and our arms automatically entwine around each other. Nuzzling his neck, I drink in his glorious scent. “Mmm. This may come in handy after all,” I whisper near his ear. My hungry mouth finds his delicious lips. Passion and electricity meld our bodies together. His sweet kiss is a healing balm for my aching heart. And, all at once, everything snaps into sharp relief. I know I’m meant to be with this man, no matter how great the sacrifice. Good luck to the Transcenders, and to hell with Ralston, I can make it on my own as long as Ryder’s with me.
The clack of footsteps on the marble floor causes my eyes to flutter open momentarily. Two gift-toting servants enter the room and scuttle back out again, after spotting Ryder and me locked in an embrace. I laugh, withdrawing my lips from his.
“Aah,” he moans. “I am counting the days until I make you my wife,” he says hoarsely.
“And I’ll be the best wife ever.”
He arches a brow. “Really? Does that mean you’ll do exactly as I ask, and no longer run headlong into perilous situations?”
I screw up my mouth. “Um … No. It probably doesn’t mean that. But I’ll make it up to you afterwards.�
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He laughs. “That’s the best I can hope for, I suppose.” Taking my hand, he helps me from the stool. “We’d better examine the rest of these items and see if there is anything else of use here.”
Replacing the mini-fargen on the table, he says, “I regret that I must leave before dessert is served tonight, love.”
“Why?” I ask, disappointed.
He places his hands on my shoulders and gazes into my eyes. “I should not be telling you this, but I will not keep secrets from you. Alexander is coming clandestinely to my house tonight to see Meli and the baby. I must be there when he arrives.”
I’m instantly afraid for him. “Ryder, please be careful.”
Inclining his head, he smiles tenderly. “I shall, my love. I’ll not take unnecessary risks now that I belong to you.”
I suspect that’s a little dig, but I let it pass because I want him to be safe. “What if the tunnels are being watched? What if he’s followed?”
He twines a tendril of my hair around his finger. “All appropriate precautions have been put into place. I promise you, nothing will go awry.”
“Ah, there you are,” Uncle Harold says striding purposefully into the room. “The queen is waiting dinner for you. Please come along at once.”
I hate it when he orders me around, but he won’t be a problem much longer, so I bite back the stinging retort loaded on my tongue. “Thank you, Harold. Please tell Mother we’ll be right there. We’re just looking over our gifts, as she requested.”
“Very well.” He makes a small bow and marches out.
“Are you still coming with me to the Enclave tomorrow,” I ask Ryder.
“Yes, of course. What time do you wish me to be here?”
“Around ten, if that is all right. Father’s expecting us in the early afternoon. I plan to spend the night. Can you stay as well?” I ask, hoping it will be easier for us to steal some time alone at Father’s.
His mouth twitches slightly as if he’s thinking the same thing. “Yes, I shall stay the night. Now, let us not keep your mother waiting any longer. We’ll examine the rest of these glittering treasures another day.” He holds out his arm and I take it, confident that, no matter what anyone else thinks, I’ve chosen the right path for me.
FORTY
Waking early, I dress in riding clothes, looking forward to the day’s journey with two of my favorite men: Ryder and Gabriel. What I’m not looking forward to is seeing Ralston. He knows I’m pissed about something, but I haven’t decided yet how to tell him that I know he’s as devoid of a heart as the Tin Man.
On my way to the kitchen for an early breakfast, I poke my head outside and see the courtyard already bustling with activity in preparation for our trip. We’re returning Father’s empty wagons to him, now that the firearms have been destroyed. Already hitched to their teams, they stand ready under the shady trees.
A number of Royal Guardsmen are in various stages of strapping on armor, saddling horses, and securing weapons to their sides. Mother insists that we take a small regiment of guards with us, since the road to the Enclave has been plagued with a spate of additional robberies and assaults lately. A rumor made the rounds at the palace that Uncle Harold’s reputed band of thugs was responsible for some of these offenses, but it died quickly when some of the robbers were arrested and turned out to be nothing more than ragged forest dwellers.
With some misgivings, last night I confessed to Mother the reason for my trip to the Enclave. I told her about the two royal decrees I plan to have Lord Balfour draw up: one to remove Osrielle from the line of succession, and the second to cancel Uncle Harold’s appointment as Lord High Steward. She was a taken aback, but she didn’t argue with me. She’d be hard pressed to deny that, at this point in time, Lady Lorelei is the more suitable heir to the throne.
“It is my fondest hope that you and Ryder shall have a strong, intelligent daughter who will succeed to the throne after your own long and distinguished reign, darling,” she told me. “I trust your judgment in this matter, but please break it gently to your Uncle Harold. Assure him that it is only because the girl is so set against ever becoming queen that you have taken these dramatic steps.”
I promised to be tactful with Uncle Harold, but I didn’t tell her I planned to send him packing back to Hempstead at the first possible opportunity.
The aromas in the kitchen are heavenly, especially the frying bacon. I wonder vaguely if the food producers in Arumel have developed a decent substitute for bacon. A vegetarian diet would probably be tolerable, but I’d dearly miss my favorite crispy, salty breakfast meat. When she sees me enter, Cook salutes with her spatula. This is as close to a curtsey as I’ll ever get from her. I nod and smile. Snagging a plate from the shelf, I scoop up scrambled eggs and potatoes directly from the pans on the twenty-burner stove.
My favorite seat is at the worn and scarred wooden table by the fake fireplace. A kitchen helper sets a mug of hot coffee next to me almost as soon as I’m seated.
“Would you care for cream, ma’am?” she asks.
“Yes please, and sugar.”
Eating in the kitchen is one of my favorite things to do at the palace. It’s warm here and always bustling with fragrant activity. Relaxing in the corner, lost in my own thoughts, I’m virtually unnoticed by the staff. My mind wanders to the day ahead. It may be a little awkward with Erica’s mother, Mrs. Hornsby, at Father’s house, but she’ll have to get used to seeing Ryder and me together because I hope we’ll be frequent visitors to the Enclave.
“May I join you, Princess?” an unwelcome voice breaks through my silent thoughts.
“Sure, Uncle Harold. Have a seat.”
“I’m told you are taking an excursion today. May I ask where you are going?”
“To the Enclave to see my father,” I reply between bites of eggs.
“And may I ask the purpose of your trip?”
My eyes meet his. “To see my father.”
“Yes. Lovely. I would rather enjoy seeing John again myself. I’ve nothing pressing on my schedule until tomorrow. Perhaps I could join you?”
“We’re spending the night, Uncle Harold. We won’t be home until late afternoon or evening tomorrow. I have a few business matters to discuss with Father. I’m certain you’d be bored.”
“I see,” he says. “Well then, I’ll just tend to things here in your absence.”
“That would be great. Thanks.”
He hoists himself out of the chair, bows, and exits the kitchen, snatching a muffin from a basket as he goes.
I gulp the rest of my coffee and head back to my room to retrieve my sword and a few other things for the trip. Ryder’s waiting for me when I reach the courtyard. He’s wearing his black hardened-leather armor today. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in it since my return.
He greets me with a bow and a kiss to my palm. “Did you sleep well, love?”
“Yes, and you?”
“Yes. But where is your armor? The road to the Enclave is rather treacherous these days.”
“It’s too hot and uncomfortable,” I say. “I have my katana, and Mother has half the Royal Guard coming with us. I’ll be fine.”
“Then I shall remove mine also.”
“Ryder, don’t do that because of me. Do whatever makes you comfortable.”
He unbuckles the armor and pulls it off over his head, placing it in the bed of an empty wagon.
My new guard, Josh, leads Gabriel into the courtyard sporting a decorative scarlet and gold blanket and the princess’s elaborate saddle. Patrick would’ve known to dress Gabriel down for the long journey, but I don’t send him back. I just take the reins and mount up.
The Guardsmen take twenty minutes or so to get mounted and into travel formation. The civilians, Ryder, Ralston, and I, plus a handful of others having business in the Enclave, are positioned in the middle of the pack, with soldiers literally surrounding us. I studiously avoid eye contact with Ralston, and have no intention of speaking with hi
m until I’m good and ready. The wagons bring up the rear as we clatter down the palace drive, underway at last.
The journey to the Enclave is even longer and dustier than normal with the fleet of armed escorts along. It helps to have Ryder with me to pass the time, but I’m tired and bored before we even reach the halfway point. It’s quiet and creepy riding through the burned-out area. The devastation conjures up bad memories for me and probably most of the others. Ryder turns sullen and silent until the lush green of the forest is visible once more.
With the charred landscape at our backs, the air around our group lightens considerably, and conversation picks up. Not only are we again surrounded by gorgeous, inviting landscape, but it’s our signal that the Enclave is not far now.