“Yes,” Peter said, deciding to let Paznowski do most of the talking.
“Whenever the Princess tells you that she desires to spend the night with you,” Paznowski elaborated, “wait for her here. She’ll give you a signal when she’s ready to receive you. Naturally, if she’s told you that she won’t be coming, then you don’t need to wait before retiring.”
“I understand perfectly,” Peter said dryly.
“And Lady Helena was moved to Barranca House this morning, so we’ve kept our part of the agreement.”
“So my aunt told me. I plan on going to see her tomorrow.”
“Certainly,” Paznowski said smoothly. “Barring any ceremonial activities, your days are your own—just so long as you return here in the evening. You can attend to your business with no interference from your imperial connections.”
“It’ll be pretty difficult to visit our branch offices if I have to be back here every night.” That circumstance had bothered Peter more than anything about his agreement with the Emperor, but he hadn’t been in a position to argue.
“Surely you have assistants for that?” Paznowski said jovially. “And there’s always the com.”
Peter agreed absently. There was no point in mentioning that there were some things he didn’t care to discuss over the com.
“Shall I tell the Princess to expect you for dinner tomorrow night?” Paznowski asked.
“No,” Peter said, amused. “I need to see my brother and my aunt, also.” Paznowski had unwittingly revealed more than he intended. A groom who was going to spend the night with his bride could tell her himself whether he would be home for dinner the next day.
Unconcerned, Paznowski seemed pleased at Peter’s answer. “Fine, fine. Whatever you need to do, Count. I’m sure you’ll find the Princess to be a most understanding wife.”
There was no answer Peter was willing to make to such a comment, so he said nothing. The sitting room lights blinked twice, and Paznowski put down his drink.
“That’s the signal,” he said, offering his hand. “Allow me to congratulate you on your marriage, Count, and to wish you a most pleasant evening.”
Peter shook his hand with a cynical smile. After the other man had gone, he put down his own drink and walked through to the dressing room. He undressed quickly, slipping on the nightshirt that had been laid out for him, and then took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders, and opened the door to the bedroom.
It wasn’t merely dark, it was pitch black. Many of the palace rooms had no windows for security reasons, and his suite was no exception. All of the rooms had adequate illumination, however. In fact, they had sensors so that lights came on if anyone walked across the floor, although at night this illumination would dim considerably. This room appeared to be different, as it stayed pitch black as Peter advanced hesitantly across the floor, stepping carefully toward the place where he remembered the bed to be. The door closed behind him with an almost soundless whoosh.
A rustling sound told Peter the bed was occupied. He hadn’t been completely sure that it would be. Apparently, Emperor Lothar acknowledged no limits in his effort to maintain the fiction that his sister had a husband.
Peter wondered who the woman was in his bed. He prayed that she wasn’t being forced in any way. He rather hoped the Emperor would be content with simply hiring a prostitute to play the part of his brother-in-law’s bride.
He bumped his foot against the bedpost and cursed softly. There were more rustling noises, and Peter sat carefully on his side of the bed. Whoever it was had moved over to leave him room. A faint scent of perfume reached him, a delicate fragrance quite unlike the heavy scent Vinitra had been wearing earlier. Peter groped for the bed covers, pulled them back, and slid into bed without coming into contact with anyone.
She must be right up against the far side of the bed. He would have to reassure her.
“Hello,” he said gently, not certain how to begin.
“Shh!” she whispered urgently. “Don’t talk.”
Were they under observation? It seemed excessive to Peter. Where else could he go?
“It’s all right,” he whispered back. “You don’t need to be afraid. I won’t touch you.”
“No! No! Please! You have to touch me. Please!”
Her fear was obvious and Peter had no doubt that it was genuine. He reached out in the darkness, found what felt like a shoulder, and pulled her close against him.
“You don’t want to do this and neither do I,” he whispered in her ear. “Can’t we just lie here together?”
She was warm and soft in his arms, and Peter thought he could feel her heart beating in terror. If she were a prostitute, they must have threatened her to make her so afraid.
“No, that’s not enough,” she whispered back. She put her arms around him and clung to him in desperation. He could feel that she was trembling. “Please! You know what we have to do.”
He moved to embrace her more thoroughly and her hair brushed his face. It was as soft as silk, and the feel of it brought back memories of a woman of whom Peter had once been fond, a woman he had known well when he was younger, and a good deal less cynical. Somehow he didn’t think that this woman was a prostitute.
He stroked her hair, and the scent of her perfume became stronger. “Are you sure?” he whispered. “How would anyone know?”
She clung to him even tighter. “Please, please! He said—” She broke off. “We have to.”
He pushed her gently back against the pillow, held her face with one hand while he kissed her delicately.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“It’s all right,” she whispered back.
He kissed her again, and when she didn’t resist, he made it more passionate. When he ended the kiss, he moved his mouth to nuzzle her neck, and then slid one hand down her torso, stroking her gently and making soothing noises, as if she had been a small child. She didn’t object, and after a few moments, she put one hand tentatively on his shoulder and began to caress him back. She had stopped trembling.
He went very slowly, afraid to alarm her. After several minutes, she seemed more at ease, and Peter became bold enough to remove her gown. She helped him with it, and then began to tug impatiently at his nightshirt. Peter pulled it off quickly, and then embraced her again, suddenly inflamed by the feel of her body against his, both of them naked. She gave a little gasp when he embraced her and pulled her close, but she didn’t try to pull away, and he continued his efforts to arouse her.
When he was certain she was ready, he mounted her as gently as he could, knowing as soon as he entered her that she was a virgin, that Antonio’s perfidy extended even to this. She gave a small, strangled cry, and Peter held her tightly.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered again. “My god, I’m sorry. They had no right to do this to you.”
“It’s all right,” she gasped. “Please don’t stop!”
He realized that he had succeeded in arousing her, and he did his best to ensure that she achieved satisfaction, continuing to stimulate her even when his own climax came swiftly. When he was sure that she had climaxed also, he pulled away from her.
“Are you all right?”
She said nothing, and he realized she had probably nodded but he couldn’t see.
“Yes,” she said. “Oh, yes.”
He slid down beside her and pulled her close, cradling her with one arm. “What’s your name?”
There was a brief pause, and then she whispered softly in his ear. “I can’t tell you. Just call me Princess.”
He held her by the back of her neck so that he could kiss her forehead gently. She had a small mole behind her left ear; Peter could feel it with his thumb. “Will you sleep here,” he asked quietly, “or do you have to go now?”
She put her head against his chest. “I’m supposed to sleep here with you.”
“Go to sleep, then, Princess. I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“I’m not,” she said softly. “I’m
glad it was you who was first for me.”
He held her close and listened to her breathing in the dark until finally, he fell asleep.
• • •
It wasn’t dark in the room where Antonio waited for Vinitra. Although Peter Barranca only suspected its existence, there was indeed a hidden door in his bedroom that led to a narrow corridor that let out in this part of Antonio’s suite. The new Emperor had had the hidden passage installed as part of the renovation of suites for his sister and new brother-in-law, and then he had sent the workmen who built it to a remote province to build a summer palace that he would never occupy.
A second hidden door clicked open and Vinitra entered. Antonio got to his feet. She wore a filmy nightgown that left her shoulders bare.
Antonio had never seen her look more beautiful. “Vinnie! Oh, Vinnie, you can’t know how much I’ve longed for this moment.”
She came to him eagerly. “Oh, Tonio, it’s wonderful! It doesn’t hurt when you touch me.”
“I’ll have to hurt you a little, darling,” Antonio said solemnly. “You understand that, don’t you?”
“Yes. It’s all right. It’s only for this one time.”
He took her by the hand and led her to his bedroom. He dimmed the lights slightly, and then slowly he began to undress her. Vinitra stood still, as compliant as a child, and let him unlace her gown. When it dropped to the floor, she was completely naked, her black hair falling around her bare shoulders and partially covering her small, high breasts.
“You’re so beautiful, Vinitra,” Antonio crooned, kissing her neck and running his hands over her back and her buttocks.
She pushed him away gently. “I want to see you, too, Antonio.”
He shed his nightshirt in seconds, and then embraced her. When he kissed her, she tilted her head back, opened her mouth, and let him thrust his tongue into it.
“Please,” she said. “Please make love to me, Tonio! I want you so badly.”
He picked her up and carried her to the bed, and laid her down as he had before, when she was unconscious. This time, however, Vinitra responded eagerly, and Antonio quickly became aroused and then impatient. He pushed her down gently, spread her thighs apart and then paused to look down at her.
“This is a solemn moment for the Imperium, my darling,” he said, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Almost a sacred moment. For the first time, the du Plessis dynasty will fulfill its destiny. It’s right that this should pain you, Vinnie. Great moments in history are often painful. You can scream if you like, but you mustn’t move or it might spoil it for me.”
“Yes, Antonio,” she said, equally breathless. “Yes, I’ll do as you say. You know I’ll always do as you say. Please, do it now!”
He held her down by her shoulders and thrust into her as hard as he could. Vinitra put her head back and screamed as the pain ripped through her.
“Yes, Vinnie,” Antonio crooned lovingly as he thrust again and again. “Scream, my darling. Ah, god, this glorious moment will never come again! Let me hear you scream.”
She sobbed a little, and clutched him convulsively. Antonio climaxed quickly and then pulled away from Vinitra to move his mouth down to stimulate her further. Vinitra protested but Antonio pushed her hands away and didn’t listen. He kept going, caressing her soft, moist flesh with his tongue, reveling in the salt taste of her virgin’s blood. Vinitra gasped in surprise, at first, and then as he continued to probe and suck and stroke her, she moaned with pleasure, and finally she screamed again, in ecstasy this time.
“Yes, Antonio, yes, Antonio! My god, I love you so much!”
He knelt on the bed beside her and looked down at her intently.
“Look at me, Vinnie,” he ordered. “Open your eyes and look at me!”
She obeyed him, and he put one hand possessively on her breast.
“I swore to you that you would beg me to touch you one day, and now you have. I swear to you today that no man but me will ever touch you, Vinnie. You are mine and only mine. You can’t even touch yourself unless I allow it. Do you acknowledge this?”
Her eyes glowed. “Yes. I’m yours and only yours. No one but you will ever touch me. I swear it, too, Antonio. Oh, my darling Antonio!”
He lay down beside her and pulled her against him. “Rest for a little while, and then I’ll take you again, at least one more time. I want you to have my child very soon, Vinnie. It’s our sacred duty to the du Plessis dynasty to have a child.”
She laid her head on his chest. “Yes, Antonio. Whatever you think is best.”
Antonio stroked her breast, enjoying the freedom to put his hands anywhere that he chose.
“I shall have to do something nice for Paznowski,” he said. “He really is a very clever man.”
Chapter Twelve
The morning the Queen Bee was due to come out of spatial fold near the system that included the planet Decos, Thaddeus went to the bridge in case Nadya Inshahn wanted his help. Her abilities as an astrogator didn’t worry him. He had checked her previous course calculations and knew they would return to normal space in the right place. But he remembered his first few times plotting a course on his own, and the temptation to change his mind because he wasn’t confident in his own decisions. Ability was one thing, and experience was another.
Thaddeus tried to be unobtrusive, but his efforts were wasted because within a few minutes of the cessation of folded space around the Bee, they were flooded with incoming messages.
“Sheesh,” Niels Trudeau said. “What are we? Message central?” A moment later he frowned as an encrypted message flashed on his monitor. “This one’s for you, Thad. Your name is the only part I can read.”
Thaddeus ran forward and stared at the codes on the screen.
“I’ll get it on my own com, Niels,” he said, starting back toward the door to the lift.
“Sure thing, Agent Jenner.”
Thaddeus didn’t bother answering this sarcasm, but headed down the lift to the brig on level four. He had made a point to always carry his ThreeCon-issued com clipped to his belt, ever since he had caught Soulange Chao studying it covetously. It was twice as large as was normal for a portable com, but then it could communicate from incredible distances, and cost more than twice his annual salary.
There was no one in the brig. Maddy didn’t bother staffing it when it was unoccupied. Once he was inside a cell, Thaddeus turned his com on and initiated communication with the Bee’s post office. His encrypted message arrived promptly.
Thaddeus decrypted it, watched it three times, and still had trouble believing it. He was still staring at the screen when there was a perfunctory knock on the door and it opened almost immediately. He wasn’t surprised when Maddy stalked in.
“I assume you were notified that Emperor Lothar is dead?” She leaned against the wall, as there was very little room on the bunk beside him.
He nodded. “Amazing, isn’t it?”
“Was there any word on Napier? There was no mention of a rebel guardsman in the public announcements.”
“No,” Thaddeus said absently. “My sources had no news of Alex. Did your clients contact you?”
She shook her head. “They must be lying low. I don’t know who the eight men were who were killed in the attack, but I have trouble believing the rebels I met were guerrilla material.”
“You’re probably right, but you never know.” He stood up and snapped his com shut. “How would you feel about turning around and heading right back for Degollado?”
It took her a second to react, and then she blinked. “What?”
“What would it take to get you to go right back into spatial fold and head for the Degollado system?”
“No way!” she said sharply. “And it’s no good looking at me with those sad, brown, puppy dog eyes. You may be the best lay I’ve ever had, but this is business.”
“You say the most romantic things,” Thaddeus murmured. “This is more important than business.”
“Like sh
it!” Her face contorted into a scowl. “Meeting my payroll is the most important thing. The Bee isn’t just my bread and jam, it’s a livelihood for thirty-seven people. We’ve got a hold full of electronic components, luxury textiles, and biomass. It’s all legal for once, and I’m not losing a chance to make a credit from it.”
“Everything is legal on Decos,” Thaddeus said, “and the high tech terminals you’re picking up there will never see the customs sheet at any port in the Degollado system.”
She glared at him. “Have you been snooping into my systems?”
He shrugged negligently. There were still secrets he had to keep from her, but this wasn’t one of them. “I’m a spy, remember? And I was bored and had nothing to do.”
She uttered a crude epithet on his ancestry.
It didn’t faze Thaddeus. “You could be right. Will you turn the ship around if I can guarantee that your cargo will be paid for in full when we get to Degollado?”
She blinked at the offer but shook her head. “I have a deal with a buyer here. You don’t get ahead in business by skipping out on your customers.”
Thaddeus debated. In the scheme of things, the cargo in the Bee’s hold was a drop in the intergalactic bucket compared to what ThreeCon had spent trying to unseat the du Plessis. “Very well. How about if you tell your buyer delivery has been postponed but you’ll cut his cost in half? ThreeCon will make up the difference?”
She appeared to consider this point. “They might go for it,” she said slowly, “but I’d still be out for a round trip to Degollado. It’d be damned expensive at maximum fold. Do you know what that does to fuel efficiency?”
He knew very well, but he saw no point in debating numbers. “All right, we’ll pick up that tab, too,” Thaddeus said. “Can we please go now—and quickly?”
“Why?” She stared at him intently. “Why do we have to go running back to Degollado, generating max fold the whole time? Do you think Napier could still be alive?”
Thaddeus considered how much he should tell her. “I don’t know about Alex. I don’t hold out much hope for him. But in any event, we have a contact in the Degollado system who’s more than a week overdue for check-in.”
Shades of Empire (ThreeCon) Page 23