Lord Regret's Price: A Jane Austen Space Opera, Book 3 (11 page)

She nodded her agreement, but it was too late to turn back. “We’ll just have to hope we don’t have to find a way to escape on our own.”

Even when they finally passed through another archway, it wasn’t to meet the Emperor’s party. Another equally large courtyard awaited, this one decorated with fanciful statuary. Dragons and phoenixes in flight and repose guided them along the white-marble path. They even crossed a stream of flowing water with a delicate arching bridge. The happy gurgle of the stream and the peaceful trek made it seem like a dream.

Am I really here, in the Forbidden City, nearly ready to meet the Emperor?

Again, the courtyard walls soared upward, giving soldiers an impenetrable perch high above to eliminate any encroachers. Ahead, a massive stairway led up a white-marble mountain towering over the courtyard. Two red carpets stretched up the stairs, each wide enough for a carriage. In the center, something was carved into the marble steps.

“Only the Emperor crosses the dragon.” Prince Gong pointed to the intricate carving. A sinuous scaled dragon wound its way up the stairs.

Charlotte slowed her step, wishing she hadn’t tightened her corset quite so much. Plus that gave her more time to process everything she was seeing. So much gorgeous artisanal work. So very little technology. Odd, when the entire space station was a glowing example of exquisite technological advances.

Even the soldiers on the walls were armored like in olden days. It wouldn’t surprise her if they carried swords and pistols instead of lazors or ion cannon. Yet she’d seen the massive cannon protecting the wormhole exit, and the Imperial assassins’ technological advances had certainly been impressive. Xuanyuan itself was an incredible testament to man-made technology, yet this part of the palace grounds was deliberately primitive.

At least on the surface.

Curious, she touched the locket again to load a small amount of nanobots onto her gloved fingertip. Then she pretended exhaustion, pausing to brace her hand against a particularly fearsome dragon’s gaping jaws. “A moment, Your Highness. My current fashion choice has left me winded.”

“Of course, Lady Wyre. The climb is considerable.”

She breathed as deeply as possible despite the constriction around her rib cage and then set out again. Since Gil had her arm, she even pretended to lean on him a little more. He certainly didn’t mind.

Finally, they reached the top of the staircase. The party stopped again to stare.

Ahead, a massive palace of wood and gilded columns rose from the white-marble plaza. The tiled roof gleamed like pure gold, sharp peaks decorated with dragons and other creatures. Marvelous, yes, but then Charlotte’s eyes went up to another palace that hovered above the other. She craned her neck back and thought she could make out yet another palace even higher above. How far up did they go? How did they hang one above the other as though they floated on air?

Her mind raced through scientific alternatives. They’d already shown their understanding of positive and negative charges. Perhaps each palace was like a gigantic magnet, placed so the poles opposed one another. She couldn’t imagine how they’d managed to generate enough power to infuse such a massive electric charge, though. Not for long-term usage like this. Some kind of hover technology based on air flow? But there were no roaring sounds of wind or generators.

Perhaps it was something simple.

They could be using some kind of superstrong clear plastic to give the illusion of hanging palaces, one above the other. Perhaps the same material as the dome. Nodding to herself, she decided that must be the solution. She’d be interested in the chemical composition of such an ultrastrong polymer, but she was confident it must be similar to Londonium’s original dome formula before they’d moved to a magnetic field. Though she wasn’t arrogant enough to assume they hadn’t developed something that worked even better than her formula.

If they had, she’d definitely copy every note she could find about it.

Regardless of the technology, it made a fantastic impression. The Emperor was the Son of Heaven. Naturally, his palace must appear to hover magically in the air, inside a divine city that also floated unmoored in deep space.

“
Tài Hé Diàn
,
the Hall of Supreme Harmony,” Prince Gong said. “Our largest building in Xuanyuan.”

Nine arched doors led them into a spacious, ornate hall. Every inch of the surfaces was covered in carvings, tiles and gold. Thick pillars were wrapped in golden dragons glittering in the old-fashioned lamps and candles. She had to admit the soft glow did look magnificent, making the fanciful dragons seem to come alive, sparkling in the light.

The massive Dragon Throne loomed in the center of the hall, covered in the ornate beasts, naturally. Even Majel’s throne wasn’t as ornate or as large. Her entire council could join her on that dais with room to spare.

“Only very formal ceremonies are still held here, like coronations and weddings. I hope you’re not offended that the Emperor isn’t receiving you here.”

“Of course not.” She smiled, trying to keep her conversation as authentic and open as possible so he wouldn’t be suspicious of all the things she kept touching. “Honestly, I’m quite relieved that there won’t be pomp and circumstance. May I take a closer look at the throne?”

“Be my guest.”

Even the Dragon Throne got a bug, just in case there was some unusual technology lurking in the gilded monstrosity that she ought to know about.

“Above, you can see the Xuanyuan Mirror.” Prince Gong indicated a large chandelier hanging above the throne, from which hung several large balls. “Legend says that if a false Emperor takes the throne, the Mirror sees the usurper and will fall to crush him.”

“So if I sat on the throne,” Sig drawled, arching a brow at Charlotte, “that big ball would fall on me?”

“So they say.” The prince grinned. “Of course no such calamities have ever been recorded. You’d be the first, if you wish to give it a try.”

“I think I’ll pass this time.”

Charlotte suspected he was thinking,
I have a contract to complete first.

As the prince led them behind the throne, she couldn’t help but wonder whom Sig had been hired to assassinate, and by whom. Zijin politics were complicated enough without worrying about who might not survive the next few days. Yet she wouldn’t press him for details.

He had to know that he could trust her. If he wanted her to know, he’d tell her.

Although waiting for him to approach her might finally put her in her grave where Majel had failed.

Sig enjoyed the tour just because Charlie ate up every single detail. Her eyes glowed as brightly as the antique lamps on the walls. Animated, she asked endless questions, which Prince Gong surprisingly answered for the most part. He had amazing patience and fortitude to deal with a woman of Charlie’s immense curiosity.

I hope he’s not the one I’m supposed to kill, because I rather like him.

Though he’d killed plenty of people he liked.

“If you’ll come this way, we’ll proceed to the next level.” Prince Gong led them behind the massive throne to a small dark door. They all stepped inside with room to spare, though it was dark and close like a water closet. He pressed a small button on the wall and the floor began to rise. “The lifts are powered by turbines beneath the main structure.”

The roof slid back soundlessly and they rose into seemingly nothing. Sig reached out and felt a clear plastic, rounded tube. “I don’t particularly care to be rising twenty feet or more in the air with only plastic keeping us afloat.”

She squeezed his arm and laughed softly. “Then I highly recommend that you not think about the plastic dome providing our oxygen and keeping us from tumbling away into the vacuum of space.”

“Plastic may be a misnomer in this case,” Prince Gong replied, returning her smile. “The material’s actually a hybrid between polymer and glass. It makes for a lasting impression when the Emperor descends from the upper levels for a ceremony. To the people waiting in the courtyard below, it looks like he’s floating on thin air.”

“The Son of Heaven,” Charlie whispered. “So how many levels are there above us?”

“There are currently four levels. First, the public level, which is available for ceremonies. The Emperor’s advisers and clerks meet with him in the Hall of Supreme Harmony.”

“Public, as in anyone can come through the wormhole?”

The prince smiled apologetically. “My mistake. Public, as in whomever the Emperor has invited to enter Xuanyuan. He rarely leaves the city himself, so the best way to keep his finger on the pulse of Zijin is to meet regularly with his advisers.”

Perhaps it was one of these trusted advisers whom Sig had been contracted to kill. He didn’t think so, though, unless the person was very, very powerful. In his research of the current political situation, no single adviser had the power to sway the Emperor. That was left to the Dowager Empresses. Maybe the Emperor wanted to cut that leash and rule on his own. Few assassins would kill a woman, but that had always been Sig’s specialty.

“This level is more private. It’s a place for the Emperor to pause and meditate before a ceremony.” The elevator didn’t stop, but Sig didn’t guess they were missing much. From the glimpse he caught of the interior, it was very much like the larger hall below, just more subdued. The elevator stopped on the third level and the prince indicated they should disembark. “This level is for more intimate gatherings. It’s considered an honor to be invited to meet the Emperor here for dining.”

Charlie laid a hand on the sliding door to halt their exit. “Are there any particular customs we ought to know about so that we don’t accidentally commit a faux pas?”

“It’s very simple, my lady. Never turn your back on His Majesty. Otherwise, pay him the same respect and courtesy you would to your Queen and all will be well.” Then he turned and looked at Sig and his friendly demeanor sharpened to a honed edge. “Of course, your men must now surrender their weapons without argument to the Imperial guards. No one enters His Majesty’s presence while wearing arms.”

“Of course,” Charlie replied easily, giving both of them a nod. They’d prepared for this eventuality, but it didn’t mean that either of them liked the idea of sitting by helplessly while someone was trying to kill her.

With a hard smile, Gil handed over his ancient, six-barreled pistol to the waiting guard. He accepted the gun and the other guard stepped back to allow Gil entry.

They didn’t question whether he had any other weapons, which made Sig suspicious. Were they simply complacent and trusting? Or had they all been scanned before they ever stepped foot off the elevator? As he handed over his pistols and started pulling out his hidden knives, the guards carefully counted each one, making him highly suspect the latter.

It’d be interesting to see how many of his truly secret weapons they’d picked up on the scan.

He handed over all his normal blades—six in all, nowhere close to how many he usually carried, because he feared he might not get them all back—but the guard didn’t step aside.

Sig tipped his hat back and pretended ignorance. “I’m sure I’m not carrying any more knives.”

Prince Gong coughed politely. “Perhaps you forgot the items tucked into your boots?”

Chuckling, Sig bent down and pulled out the long, thin wooden needles he’d hidden along the inner seam of his boots. “Exactly, how silly of me. I forgot that Lady Wyre asked me to carry her knitting needles for her.”

The guard motioned him on. Barely, Sig suppressed a smirk that might speak of too much arrogance. He could kill with his cravat, let alone the steel spikes in the toes of his boots, the garrote in his hatband and the fast-acting poison in his snuffbox. All he’d have to do is toss a little powder into his mark’s eyes and the person would drop dead in minutes.

However, protecting Charlie from the black assassins would prove more difficult. Thankfully she’d prepared some surprises for the ninjas if they made an attempt again. Somehow, though, he didn’t think they would. The message had been received. Someone didn’t want her inside Xuanyuan, but it was too late for that now.

The game was afoot.

Chapter Ten

Charlotte was used to extreme displays of wealth and power, but, she had to admit, even she was impressed by Xuanyuan’s display so far. The guards gave her a cursory glance but didn’t ask to examine her reticule. Surely they didn’t blindly dismiss her as a physical threat simply because she was female, but she was afraid that very well might be the case. She almost wished she’d stuck a small pistol into her bag, just as a test, instead of taking the time to disguise all her protective devices as normal feminine items.

She stepped into the hall slowly so she could evaluate who was present and how they were positioned.

Directly ahead, the Emperor was seated on a golden throne only slightly less magnificent than the formal presentation one on the lower level. He looked much younger than she’d expected. He might be nineteen years of age, but his slight frame and youthful face made him look like a boy barely out of the nursery. The throne and the heavily embroidered golden robes made him gleam like the sun itself. His black hair was wound and coiled on top of his head, held in place with golden ornaments elaborate enough for Queen Majel.