Hers To Cherish (Verdantia Book 3) (2 page)

“With
Narr, himself,” said DeTano. “One of our contacts said Narr was infatuated with Lady Alessa. He knows we look for her. He keeps her well hidden.”

“And just how do I get close to
Narr?”

DeLorion uncrossed his arms and tossed another paper into Ramsey’s lap. “The planet holds ‘gladiator games’ as entertainment.
Narr, the primary sponsor, is obsessed with the bloodshed and spectacle. He always invites the winner of the games to his compound for an orgy of celebration. That will be your best chance to find Lady DeAlbero.”

Ram sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. “Gladiator games.”
Shit.

“We took the liberty of entering your name,” DeTano said. “It’s ‘no holds barred’, but the
only weapons allowed are archaic. You will be familiar with all of them.”

“Should be right up your alley, DeKieran. You get to fight dirty.” Captain Rickard’s
feminine lilt spat the insult at him. “But this presupposes you’ll win.”

He’d forgotten her presence.
At her challenge to both his honor and his fighting prowess – all right, perhaps he had no honor, but the slur to his skills stung – Ram rose to his feet and turned to look at her. A wickedly satisfying thought formed. He threw a quick glance at DeTano. “A Blue Dagger goes with me, yes?” DeTano nodded. “I’ll take your job, on one condition.” Ram pointed at Steffania. “That Blue Dagger goes – as my sexual submissive.”

“No. Oh, no. No.” Steffania shook her head.

High Lord DeTano spoke over her objections. “Your condition is accepted, DeKieran. You will depart in twelve hours. We’ll outfit you and brief you with all the information we’ve gathered.”

“No! I can’t…
” Steffania’s voice trailed off at the High Lord’s stern look. “Sir, please.”

“Doral, will you please show Lord DeKieran to his quarters? We have arranged to put him in your old apartments. I need a quick word with Captain Rickard.”

When the door closed behind the two men, Ari turned to Steffania. “You fought at my side – risked your life to end the Haarb invasion of our planet. There is more at stake here than just a clod of dirt orbiting a remote sun. Verdantia lives.
She
is a sentient entity. To my knowledge, our
Senzienza
is unique among all known worlds. But
She
can only speak to us, manifest
Her
power, through a genetically select few. Lady Alessa DeAlbero is one of those few.”

His
quiet, impassioned speech impaled her on a barbed spike of guilt. The Haarb had systematically destroyed 500 years of careful genetic breeding resident in thirty-two Verdantian noble houses. It should never have happened. But for the corruption within the League of Federated Planets, it would not have.

T
he decision of Steffania and her mercs, The Blue Daggers, to switch their allegiance and fight for Verdantia and her people had been instrumental in swinging the outcome to the Verdantians. In return, High Lord DeTano had showered them with monetary reward and even more important, a welcoming planet to call home. He had given them lands, homes and an honored place in Verdantian society. For the Blue Daggers, this was unprecedented. As an elite military unit, after their usefulness was over, societies encouraged them to move on, unwilling to harbor such deadly fighters in their midst. The Daggers still believed Verdantia worth their sacrifice in blood and lives.

S
he closed her eyes in an agony of indecision. Her opposing desires of dedication to the
Second
Tetriarch
and her own vulnerabilities tore and clawed at her insides. Steffania glanced at High Lord DeTano then dropped her eyes, unable to hold his gaze. The Verdantians stood to lose everything if this mission failed. She could suffer a few weeks of uncomfortable interaction with Ramsey DeKieran in exchange for that. It was little enough to give for what the planet and her adopted society stood to gain. But still, there must be some other who could go in her stead. She felt compelled to object, despite the debt of honor and the ties of friendship.

“But
, sir,” Steffania sputtered. “You don’t know what that man will do to me! I can’t...this is far beyond duty.” She shook her head. “I can’t.”

“
You know how precious each aristocrat’s select genetics have become. We are but a single generation away from losing our ability to power the sigil towers, our sole protection from galactic marauders like the Haarb. Captain Rickard, you
know
what this means to the people of Verdantia. This is not an idle request.” High Lord DeTano ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Captain, what is it you can’t do? Show some skin and pretend you’re his sex slave?”

“
DeKieran will want more than ‘pretending’. Send someone else. Send a man.”

“
You have been through all the previous briefings. If there was time to bring someone else up to speed, I would. I’ll make it clear to DeKieran just how far this make-believe will go.” DeTano held her in a steady gaze. “I would consider it a personal favor.”

Steffania closed her eyes. A sick feeling
of resignation enveloped her. Her shoulders sagged.
I can’t believe what I’m about to say.
“All right. For Verdantia – for
you
, I’ll do it.”

DeTano nodded at her
, his face solemn. “DeKieran doesn’t know it now, but he’s going to need your skills. He’s going to need all the help he can get. We sent good people after DeAlbero. We never heard from them again. I can only assume they are dead.” DeTano broke eye contact with her for a moment. “You have the thanks of a grateful people. Just put on a convincing act. That’s all you need to do.”

Numb, s
he allowed High Lord DeTano to show her out the door
. DeKieran will know I’m not acting.

The flight clock in Steffania’s stateroom on the star luxury-liner showed an elapse of three days, six hours, fourteen minutes and seven seconds since she and Ramsey DeKieran had thundered away from the interstellar space hub orbiting Triton. From the time Ari DeTano had ushered her out of the royal apartments until now, anxiety had shredded her temper until she had reached a state of rabid annoyance.
All I need is the white foam at my mouth.
Forceful knocks tattooed her door. Ramsey DeKieran – again.
Will he never leave me in peace!

At least the High Lord had gotten them a
cabin with two separate bedrooms. She appreciated the extravagance. The staterooms on the
Queen of the Stars
luxury starliners were the epitome of sophisticated inter-galactic travel. She had to hand it to Quantum Starlines. Those people did classy extravagance exceedingly well. After briefing DeKieran on how to use the cornucopia of technological conveniences onboard, Steffania had locked herself in her en-suite bedroom, equipped with every possible on-board service. She had never left.

“You’ve been hiding for the past three days, Rickard. We will be on Vxloncia in another two. Sooner or later you will have to come out.” Ramsey knocked
again. “Captain, you’re just delaying the inevitable.”

Steffania sighed deeply. DeKieran was right. She’d donned the pathetic excuse for clothing that Vxloncia allowed its females the first day in the hope she’d become
accustomed to the nudity. She might as well face him now.
I’m doing this for Verdantia, for my adopted people, for the future generations of the Verdantian race.
She crossed to the door, unlocked it and then stepped back several feet. “It’s open.”

“Really, Rickard, I . . .” Ramsey’s voice died away as he walked through the door. He closed it quietly then faced her, a wolfish gleam in his eye. He walked around her slowly. “Nice. Very nice.” He gently fingered the small ruby hanging from the ring in her pierced nipple and she stiffened. “That’s not where I told the medico to put it,” Ram
drawled.

“I told him if he pierced
my clit I would kill him,” Steffania snapped back. Her building anger obliterated her discomfort in standing before him nude. The gilded thong and diaphanous skirts could not count as clothing.

He just shrugged
and grinned. “Most women like it.”

“How would you like your cock pierced?” she threw back.

He laughed. “The medico told me he didn’t pierce you at all.”

Steffania could feel her face flaming. “I, ah, I
...my nipple was already pierced,” she said quietly.

“Hmmm.” He circled behind her and stopped. His warm breath washed her shoulder. “Who else
wanted you pierced, sweetheart? Someone on Verdantia? Or did you do this for yourself?” One fingertip stroked lightly down the side of her neck. His low, commanding voice caressed her with intimacy. Her hard nipples tingled and gooseflesh stood up on her arms. Between her legs, the delicate tissue flushed with heat.
No, no, this is not happening.

Steffania turned and shoved him. She might as well have shoved the wall. She staggered back two steps. “I’m not your
Vxloncian
slaaf
. This is just an act. It’s not real.”

With a slow smile, Ram murmured
, “We’ll see.” He held out a velvet jewelry box. “Here, this is for you. You will need this on Vxloncia.”

“I am almost afraid to open it,” Steffania retorted. She turned her back to him and flipped the snap lid open. On a white satin bed
lay a wide golden choker of fine meshed links. It resembled a flat snake made of sumptuous precious metal. A small clasp linked the two ends. A tiny gold padlock to secure the collar around her neck lay separately on the white satin accompanied by a small charm – a golden gryphon with ruby eyes. The collar was a blatant, gloriously exorbitant, declaration of possession.

She stood motionless, staggered by how desperately she wanted to turn and beg Ramsey to put it on her. The fine mesh of the collar would meld itself to her in the most unobtrusive way. It was the sort of thing she would only notice when it was gone
; when the symbol of his possession no longer wrapped her neck in its heavy, secure embrace.
Oh, god, can I do this again? Can I handle the gutting disillusionment one more time?
She took a deep breath. She could do it – as long as she remembered that the collar around her neck meant
nothing
and DeKieran was not her true
dominus
. 

“You would stand out without some mark of ownership. Put it on just before we get off the ship.” His deep voice vibrated inside her.

It’s beautiful.
“What is the significance of the gryphon?” She listened intently for his answer but the silence stretched longer and longer. She turned to look at him. “DeKieran?” His expression was remote, his eyes shuttered.

“Put the collar on before we disembark,” he drawled. “Wear the
gryphon on your nipple ring – or not – please yourself.” He left her standing there holding the jewelry box.

What just happened?
Steffania stared after him, her brain turning over their dialogue, searching for a clue. Putting the jewelry box on her bed, she activated the voice command feature on the stateroom console. “
InterLinc
, this is stateroom 2004, access galactic web interlinc. Password, 07bluedagger180.”

Welcome
to galactic web interlinc, Steffania May Rickard. How may I assist you?

“
InterLinc, association: Gryphon, mythical animal, DeKieran, Ramsey, Verdantian male.”

Gryphon: old Earth mythology—half lion, half eagle, symbol of strength and unity.
Association: emblem of Verdantian noble house, DeKieran. Estates and holdings dispersed, Nuovo Terra solar date 4634. Lord Ramsey Melborn DeKieran last surviving male, struck from lineage Nuovo Terra solar date 4640. House status: defunct.

“That was not particularly helpful,” she muttered to herself then
thought of another way to phrase her need for information.

“
InterLinc
, time line, Verdantian male, DeKieran, Ramsey, thirty-two. Birth to present.”