Unbound

by Evangeline Anderson

  “Thank you, Varin.” Brynn drew a deep breath and looked at him gratefully. “That means so much to me—more than you can know.”

  Once again she had the urge to hug him and once again she pushed the urge away. She was still wearing the ridiculous gown and he was still bare-chested. Not only that, he’d just endured the Goddess alone knew how much agony, inflicted on him by that damn pain collar even though he had only been doing his job in protecting her. Yet Brynn knew if she said anything about wanting a hug, he would hug her even though it hurt him.

  I can’t hurt him anymore, she thought, wrapping her arms around her bare shoulders protectively. I can’t! But, oh, how she longed to be held safely in his arms!

  With an unhappy sigh, she settled on the edge of her bed. It probably wouldn’t be safe to hug him anyway—who knew if they were being watched?

  “I guess there’s nothing to do now but wait,” she said in a low voice.

  “That’s right, little one.” Varin blew out a breath. “Just sit here and wait for the bad news. But don’t worry—I won’t leave you.”

  “Thank you, Varin.” She looked up and gave him a small, trembling smile. “Even with everything else that’s happening, knowing that you’ll be with me makes me feel better.”

  “I’ll be there, all right,” he promised, his bronze eyes blazing. “I’ll never willingly leave your side. That I swear.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Now then—since we’re all at ease, I think we can begin.”

  The King settled himself more comfortably in the plush, richly upholstered chair in his private apartment which was hung with tapestries depicting a zanther hunt in gold and silver threads. The Queen settled beside him on an equally rich sofa with pearlescent blue silk pillows embroidered in vermillion flowers.

  Sovereign Ysldred X’izith sat stiffly across from them, his long legs splayed out at awkward angles.

  “You said in your message that you were very interested in the Princess because of our excellent bloodlines.” The Queen leaned forward eagerly.

  “Yes, well—we do come from a long line of royalty.” The King sounded smugly impressed by his own lineage.

  “Yes—such genetic perfection and compatibility with my own species is difficult to find.” X’izith nodded stiffly. His right eyeball rolled, apparently looking at the wall while his left jittered, trying to focus on the royal couple.

  “Oh, genetic perfection! Did you hear that my dear?” The Queen fluttered importantly, preening at the compliment.

  If she or the King noticed the strange way X’izith’s eyes seemed to move independently from each other or the tiny thread of drool hanging from one corner of his thin, red mouth, they certainly didn’t show it. The riches they were hoping to get were of paramount importance—any strange little foibles of the male proposing to take their daughter off their hands and pay handsomely for her into the bargain were not their business.

  “Now, the sum you mentioned for the Princess’s bride price in your message was…a-hem, most impressive,” the King said. “Would you be paying that all in gold ore like the kind you included to show your interest, or do you have other assets you’d like to use?”

  “If gold ore is acceptable, I have a surplus of it at the moment,” X’izith said, nodding stiffly. “But there is a problem we must address before I can make payment and take possession of the Princess.”

  “Oh? And what’s that?” the Queen asked anxiously. “I’m certain we can fix any issue you have, Sovereign.”

  “It is the matter of her…” X’izith seemed to be groping for words. “Her maiden barrier. Is it intact?”

  “Brynnalla was raised at the convent of the Sisters of Chastity and Obedience so I can assure you with certainty that she is intact. A true virgin,” the Queen said eagerly.

  “The fact that she has been with no other male is acceptable,” X’izith buzzed. “But in researching your people, I have learned that females of the royal and noble families have exceedingly tough barriers within their reproductive canals. Is this so?”

  The Queen nodded cautiously.

  “In some cases, yes. But that was mostly in the past—modern females such as myself…” She preened some more. “Have little difficulty in, ah, accommodating our husbands on the wedding night.”

  “Any barrier at all is unacceptable,” Sovereign X’izith declared. “It will impede implantation—I will not take her with the barrier intact.”

  “Oh, as to that…” The King cleared his throat. “We did have…methods of dealing with this problem in the past.”

  The Queen leaned forward and patted X’izith’s boney knee.

  “Don’t worry, my dear Sovereign. We can arrange for an old-fashioned deflowering—tonight if you like. I believe we still keep the equipment down in one of the storage dungeons—don’t we, my dear?”

  “Yes—I believe we do.” The King nodded cordially, smiling as though he and his wife hadn’t just decided to torture their only daughter in order to sell her to a complete stranger.

  “In that case, if the barrier is removed, I will be happy to, ah, take the Princess off your hands.” X’izith nodded eagerly. “Tonight will be optimal.”

  “All right—if you can produce the payment in full, you can have her tonight.” The King nodded.

  “Naturally, I have the ore with me in the treasure cache of my ship,” X’izith said. “I have brought it all the way with me from my home planet of Zhymur.”

  “Oh, Zhymur…it sounds lovely,” the Queen said vaguely. She stood and nodded at X’izith and the King. “Well, if you two males would like to arrange for the transfer of the bride payment, I’ll go order the Court Physician to get the deflowering equipment ready. It might be in fairly good working order already, you know—we had been talking to the Sultanate of Yorbic Beta who also disliked the idea of a maiden barrier to contend with.” She smiled brilliantly at X’izith. “Of course that was before we received your message and were so very impressed with your, ah… credentials, Sovereign.”

  “Yes, most impressive.” The King nodded heartily. “Go see to it, my dear,” he said to the Queen.

  “And please do not be lengthy,” X’izith added. “I wish to take possession of the Princess as soon as possible.”

  “We’ll have her ready to go in no time,” the Queen promised, as though she was simply getting the Princess packed for a trip. As though she wasn’t about to hurt her only daughter cruelly and deeply and then send her off with a stranger wounded and vulnerable. But of course, Brynnalla’s ancestors had endured deflowering—it used to be a regular part of the pre-joining rituals. They had all survived that and their subsequent marriages and Brynnalla would as well. And if she didn’t, well…the Queen shrugged to herself. It was no business of hers. At least the palace would have a new bathing wing—that would be an excellent consolation for the loss of a daughter she barely even knew.

  She was about to go when the King called her back.

  “Wait, my dear…” He held out the small, silver remote he’d used to subdue Varin earlier. “Take this in case the Princess’s Kindred guard gets troublesome again.”

  “A good thought—thank you.” The Queen took it. “I don’t know what possessed you to buy her such an expensive guard in the first place anyway.”

  “I’ve often wondered that myself.” The King sighed. “Of course it would have been necessary to protect her better if we hadn’t had the Crown Prince to take her place.”

  “Yes, thank goodness for my dear, sweet Rolando.” The Queen smiled sweetly at Sovereign X’izith. “A pity my son could not be here to meet his sister’s future husband, Sovereign. Maybe you can meet him someday.”

  “Perhaps…” X’izith buzzed. “Perhaps even sooner than you think.”

  “Um…of course—if you and the Princess should ever come to visit.” The Queen smiled and nodded. “Well, I really must be going if we’re going to meet your schedule.”

  “Please do,” X’izith gave a jer
ky nod of his head. “I am most eager to have the Princess alone on my own planet.”

  “You’ll have her before you know it,” The Queen promised and bustled out of the room.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Here—your Lady-mother the Queen says you must put on this outfit and then you’re to follow the Court Physician down to the dungeons.” Lady Tasmina thrust a plain white shift at Brynn.

  “What? Why?” Brynn took the garment, looking at it uncertainly. It was sleeveless with thin straps to go over her shoulders and a straight skirt that would fall to her knees. It looked more like an undergarment or a sleeping garment than anything she would wear in public outside her chamber.

  “Just put it on.” Lady Tasmina gave her a pitying glance. “I’m not allowed to say anything else.”

  Brynn was still wearing the pale golden ball gown. She would have taken it off earlier but she and Varin had talked right up until the moment when Lady Tasmina had rapped on the door, saying she had a message from the Queen. Reluctantly, Brynn had sent the big Kindred to wait out in the hall outside her corridor.

  Now she wished he was still here, so she could draw strength from his presence—but she feared her head lady in waiting would grow suspicious if she called him in. So she kept her silence and turned her back stiffly to change. She struggled out of the ball gown and, leaving it in a pale gold puddle on the floor, slipped the white shift over her head. The silky material was thin enough to show her breasts and the small patch of curls between her thighs which made Brynn feel nervous and exposed.

  “There,” she said, turning back to her head lady in waiting when she had it on. “Now what is all this about?”

  “I told you, I’m not allowed to say.” Lady Tasmina sighed. “Please don’t ask again, Princess.”

  “But I—oh!” Catching sight of herself in the 3-D viewer, Brynn gasped. The thin white gown had a large slit in the back of it that went from the hem all the way up past her buttocks.

  “What is it?” Lady Tasmina sounded bored.

  “There’s a tear in this gown—see?” Brynn pointed at it. “I can’t wear it.”

  “You can and you must.” Lady Tasmina took her firmly by the arm. “Come—your Lady-mother is waiting and you know the Queen isn’t known for her patience.”

  “No!” Brynn pulled away from her pinching hand. “I can’t go out in public like this—not even to go down to the dungeons. And why do I have to go to the dungeons anyway?”

  “The Queen just told me to get you dressed and bring you—I’m not allowed to say why. Here.” Lady Tasmina grabbed the plain gray robe Brynn usually wore alone in her chamber—which reminded her of the one she’d had at the convent—and pulled it over Brynn’s shoulders. “Now you’re covered. Let’s go.”

  She grabbed Brynn’s arm again and marched her out of her chambers where a retinue of men at arms was waiting to escort her.

  Brynn began to feel frightened. Why had the Queen sent a group of armed guards to take her to the dungeons? Was she in some kind of trouble? She looked to Varin, who was standing silently outside her door, a dark, suspicious look on his face.

  “Varin,” she asked. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know, Mistress, but I’m here by your side,” he growled, eyeing the guards mistrustfully.

  “Actually…” The captain of the men at arms cleared his throat. “We had orders from the Queen that your slave was not to accompany you, Princess.”

  “I don’t care what your fucking orders are—where she goes, I go.” Varin seemed to grow even larger and more menacing as he glared at the other male.

  “Oh, well…” The captain fell back a step, licking his lips uncertainly. “You…you’d better be careful, Kindred. I am under orders from her Majesty the Queen herself!” His hand went to his blaster but Varin didn’t move.

  “You dare to think of discharging a blaster so close to the Princess?” he snarled. “You think that’s a smart move? I wonder what her Majesty would have to say about such reckless methods of protecting her only daughter?”

  “You…I…” Clearly the captain was at a loss for words. He and the other men at arms looked at Varin uncertainly and even Lady Tasmina, who was usually so laconic, looked worried.

  “Now, now—you can all calm down. Everything is quite all right, Princess.” Doctor Bri’geth, the Court Physician came walking around the corner, his shoes tapping briskly on the flagstones. He was a kindly older man with stooped shoulders and gray hair and he was almost always smiling whenever Brynn saw him in the halls of the palace. But there was no smile in his faded blue eyes now. He looked serious and sad—which frightened her even more.

  “Please, Dr. Bri’geth,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. “What’s happening?”

  “Come along and I’ll tell you.”

  “The Princess isn’t going anywhere until we find out what’s going on,” Varin growled.

  “I’m afraid she must come with me so that I can explain.” Dr. Bri’geth frowned. He had always been so kind to her that Brynn couldn’t help trusting him.

  “It’s all right, Varin,” she said. “I’ll go. But only as long as you come with me.”

  “I won’t be parted from you, Mistress, I swear it.” Varin fell into place behind her, forcing the men at arms to back up a pace.

  “Good, then. Let’s be going.” The Court Physician looped Brynn’s arm through his and before she knew it, she was being led from her own private chamber, along the long stone corridors, down five flights of steps, and into the belly of the palace—the dungeons.

  It was dark and gloomy and damp with low stone ceilings and cobwebs in the corners. Brynn shivered, wishing she had on thicker shoes. Her little night slippers couldn’t keep her feet warm on the freezing flagstones.

  “All right,” the Doctor said, stopping before a pair of plain wooden doors, leading into two different cells. “Now listen to me, Princess—I have orders from your Lady-mother to prepare you for your husband-to-be.”

  “My husband to be?” Brynn felt her heart sinking. So her mother and father had decided to sell her off to Sovereign X’izith after all. What was she going to do? “Prepare me how?” she asked, her voice shaking.

  “Yes, prepare her how?” Varin growled, coming up to stand beside her.

  “That is not your business, Kindred.” The doctor frowned at him stiffly. “This is between the Princess and myself.”

  “Not if you’re planning to hurt her it’s not.” Varin crossed his arms over his broad, bare chest. “Explain what in the Seven Hells we’re doing down here, Doctor, or I’m taking the Princess back up to her own chamber where I can keep her safe.”

  The Court Physician looked almost as nervous as the captain of the men at arms had but he licked his lips and spoke to Brynn, clearly trying to ignore Varin’s threatening presence.

  “All you need to know is that this is necessary for your future joining,” he said, fumbling open the door to the right-hand cell. “I’ll explain everything, Princess, if you’ll just follow me.”

  “Why?” Varin growled. “What’s necessary?”

  “Just come in and be quiet a moment,” the Court Physician ordered. “All will be made clear.”

  Brynn followed the physician hesitantly into the dungeon cell, aware of the comforting presence of Varin at her back.

  “What’s in here?” she asked and then looked around to answer her own question.

  Against one wall of the dungeon was a pair of thick iron manacles, their chains embedded in the stones. They looked rusty and old as though they hadn’t been used in a long time, but still horribly solid and strong. In fact, nothing in this room looked like it had been used in years—everything was covered in dust and cobwebs.

  “Now to begin with, I need you to sit in this chair.”

  Doctor Bri’geth was on the other side of the long, low room, gesturing to an old, iron chair with a tall, straight back and arms. Brynn noticed leather straps hanging from the tarnished, silver a
rms but they weren’t what held her attention—there was no seat on the chair—only a thin iron rim around the edge. It had a solid bottom like a throne so there was no telling what the purpose of the interior hole was.

  “What is that? And why does it have a seat like a privy?” Brynn demanded. She was beginning to get extremely nervous now. It was cold and damp in the cell and the low stone ceiling and dim lighting from only one small, flickering glow in the corner made her feel claustrophobic.

  There was a strange mechanism which looked rather like a lever with a crude control box attached to the back of the chair. Brynn didn’t like the look of it—the chair or the controls that went with it. They seemed ominous somehow.

  Varin had come up behind her and was peering into the hole of the strange rusted iron throne-chair with a grim look on his face.

  “Get back from it, Princess,” he said. “Don’t get anywhere near that damn thing—I know what it’s for and you’re not having any part of it.”

  “What is it for?” Brynn asked, feeling fear creep up her spine.

  “It’s a throne of deflowering.” A new voice—her mother’s voice—came from the doorway.

  “What? I…I don’t understand.” Brynn shook her head.

  “I do.” Varin put himself between Brynn and her mother. “You cannot do this, your Majesty,” he said warningly. “The King swore to me it would not be done.”

  “He said no such thing,” the Queen snapped. “He simply said it wasn’t usually necessary nowadays. But as the Princess’s new suitor doesn’t wish to bother with her maiden barrier, it’s necessary now.”

  My maiden barrier? Brynn’s heart started pounding. Was this what deflowering was about? But what could the iron throne with the leather straps have to do with it?

  “It’s not going to happen,” Varin growled at her mother. “Brynn is innocent…delicate. You can’t do this to her!”

  “I can do whatever is necessary to secure the Princess’s future.” The Queen spoke coldly and there was a warning glint in her eyes.