The Star King (26 page)

Rom's throat closed painfully. He extended his right hand, despite his hold on Jas, and Joren grasped his forearm in the traditional familial greeting.

There was a commotion. The crowd of palace onlookers separated to allow a green-robed surgeon and his entourage past. A knot of capable assistants eased Jas onto a gurney. Rom and Joren accompanied them out of the vast antechamber and into a maze of well-traveled corridors. Everyone he passed stared, openmouthed. "The B'kah," some whispered.

Under his breath, Rom said, "You've taken a great personal risk by allowing me to stay. There'll be consequences when the others find out."

"I don't care a scarran's seed about—"

"Just save her, Joren," Rom interjected, his voice pleading and low. "That's all I ask. Save her and I'll trouble you no more."

* * *

A chime woke Jas, but the healing fragrance of Siennan incense was what finally coaxed her to open her eyes. It took a while to absorb where she was. The enormous bedroom was suffused with the soft glow of laser-candles. Three walls were carved from an opaque, almost luminescent material resembling white crystal, while the fourth was entirely open to the outside, a terrace overlooking a vista of desolate steppes awash in muted hues of ocher, pumpkin, and beige. Lush cushions and wall hangings kept the spacious chamber from feeling cold.

Floating on a sense of well-being—of having healed— she decided that Rom must have found a doctor, and a fine one, too, judging by the quality of her surroundings.

Another crisp
ting
of metal hitting a bell interrupted the silence. She rolled to her side. Her insides felt battered and tight, as though she'd done too many sit-ups— a
thousand
too many.

Across the shadowed room, a broad-shouldered form knelt before an altar. His powerful body was bowed humbly as he tapped his prayer wand against an ancient-looking engraved bell.

Sending his prayers to heaven.

Her throat squeezed tight. "Rom," she called huskily, lifting one hand. He whipped around and met her gaze. His expression revealed his stark relief and the intensity of his emotions. If there was any doubt that he loved her the way she loved him, it evaporated in that moment.

He strode across the room and eased himself next to her in bed, carefully and tenderly, as though she'd break if he moved too fast. He slipped his arms around her and murmured against her hair. "So how do you feel, angel?"

"One hundred percent better." Contentedly she tucked one hand inside his loose silken shirt to savor the heat of his skin. "How long have we been here?" she said softly. "And what did they do to me?"

"Three days. During which you underwent abdominal surgery and tissue regeneration."

"And I feel this good?" She hesitantly felt for scars and stitches. Her stomach was tender and a bit puffy, but as smooth as before. "Amazing."

He brushed his lips across her forehead. "The surgeon is a master. Among the best in the galaxy."

"Like this hospital, no doubt." The bedroom resembled her suite at the Romjha Hotel, only it was three

times as big and decorated on a more opulent scale. Wealth and good taste infused every fixture in the room, many of them works of art in their own right. "Where are we—Gorgenon Prime?"

She felt the muscles in his back tighten. "No. Mistraal."

She peered down at him. "We're on Mistraal? A ruling
Vash
homeworld?"

"Yes. The Dar Palace."

She searched his shadowed face for confirmation that he was joking.

"Gorgenon Prime did not maintain the facilities necessary to save you. Here, they did." He reached up and cupped her face with one warm, dry hand. "Joren Dar is my brother-in-law."

Words eluded her. The enormity of what Rom had done for her hit her hard. He hadn't wanted to go home, to involve himself in
Vash
affairs, even with Sharron's threat weighing on his conscience. Now here they were. "Did you tell them about Sharron?"

"Only Joren. We spoke yesterday."

She leaned toward him. "And?"

"He was shocked to hear Sharron survived. But even more so when I told him illegal weaponry is involved. I told him this is bigger than we thought, that all we value as a society is at stake. Now Joren is meeting with his advisers and intelligence officers to see if more can be learned."

Thoughtfully, she said, "So
Vash
intelligence didn't know about the Family of the New Day after all."

"They do now. At first light we'll leave. The star-speeder is packed with supplies and ready to go."

She pushed herself up. Her robe fell open and she clutched it closed, pressing the sumptuous, satiny blue cloth to her breasts. "I thought this was your sister's home."

"It is, but—"

"Did you tell her your plans?"

"No, but—"

"Good," she said with a sigh. "It'd be beyond me how a woman who hadn't seen her only brother in years could let him walk away after a three-day visit."

"Jasmine, we will leave at sunrise. I've already told them what I know. I have no place here."

"Phooey," she snapped. "This is
family."

"My presence here places my brother-in-law in an awkward position, should the ruling council find out."

"That's
politics. There's a difference."

He heaved a weary sigh. The entry door banged open and the melodic sound of children's laughter spilled into the room.
"Tajhar Rom, Tajhar Rom!"
Half a dozen bronzed, golden-eyed cherubs scampered to the bed, belting out shrieks of joy as they tugged on Rom's shirt.

"Who invited you into my bedchamber?" he demanded playfully as he bounded out of bed. "You will pay for this act of impudence." He grabbed the two lit-tiest ones, a boy and a girl, and tossed them onto the floor cushions, tickling them into fits of squealing giggles, while the older four danced around him, vying for attention.

"Parjhonian, Entok, Jon
...
Theea et Preejha."
A tall, graceful woman clothed from head to toe in white silk burst through the open doors.

Jas's heart leaped. She was a female version of Rom. She had the same gorgeous sculpted features, dark-lashed pale eyes, and nutmeg-hued hair, which she wore

braided and coiled on the top of her head.

The woman shooed the children away, her bracelet-adorned arms gesturing wildly as she scolded them in a lyrical and expressive tongue that had to be Siennan. After herding them outside, she shoved the double doors closed and slumped against them. Her golden eyes brimmed with wit and intelligence—and a good deal of curiosity as she gave Jas a thorough once-over. Switching to accented Basic, she said, "My heart sings to see you up and well," before launching into a rather flustered apology for the children's intrusion.

Jas protested. "Six children, and there can't be more than a year separating them. Frankly I don't know how you do it. I had my hands full with two."

"Ah, but my three are much older. Those ruffians are my nieces and nephews." She regarded Jas, then Rom, her gaze brimming with affection.

Rom introduced the women with a gracious sweep of his hand. "My sister. Dilemma Dar. Di, we call her."

Jas choked back a small sound of amused surprise.
Dilemma—how apropos.
Extending her hand, she said, "I'm so glad to meet you." With a challenging glance in Rom's direction, she added, "I
do
look forward to getting to know you better."

Predictably, his expression darkened. Oblivious, Di told him cheerily, "Everyone's gathering in the dining hall. You'd best help your wife prepare for the evening meal."

Jas gaped at him. "Your
wife?"

Rom groaned.

"You're .. .
married?"
she asked incredulously.

"There isn't a wife," he assured her.

Dismayed, Di cried out, "But you said—"

"I meant that Jas is my wife."

Jas's mind spun. "Would someone please tell me what is going on?"

Appearing sheepish, Rom crouched at her side. Taking her hand in his, he gave her a lengthy and convoluted explanation of the term
a'nah,
and why he'd thought it would benefit her. The emotional benefits were less clear. He hadn't mentioned a desire to make the arrangement legal.

And why would he? she thought, gazing around the spacious room, the silk carpets and gold-inlaid mosaics, walls that reflected light like an iced-over pond. The place was a castle. In
Vash
circles marriages were alliances between mighty families, not love matches with divorced housewives from backwater planets like Earth.

She gave a small, disappointed sigh.

Di's eyes sparked with mischief. "Dear brother, I rejoice. With your infinite charm, you have convinced this lovely woman to be your
a'nah."
She melted his narrow-eyed, big-brother frown with a sweet smile. "Do escort her to dinner—if she feels up to it." Nodding at Jas, she left the room in an elegant sashay.

When the door closed, Jas folded her arms over her chest.

Rom spread his hands. "What?"

"She loves you. And you love her."

He sighed.

"Still, we're leaving."

He walked away from her, twisting the signet ring on his finger. "If I stay, I fear I'll be forced to choose between you and my involvement here."

"You won't. Not if you convince the
Vash Nadah
to take over the fight." She gathered her robe around her

and climbed out of bed, wincing as she did so. "Listen to me. Even if you don't want to get involved with what's going on with Sharron . .. life's too short—if we get a day of happiness, or a week or month or year, we need to grab hold of it, because tomorrow's not promised to anyone. Stay a little longer, Rom. Please." She grasped his upper arms. "Just to recapture some of what you and your sister lost."

Rom closed his eyes to steady himself. In the sudden silence, a bowl of incense popped and hissed, and hushed voices emanated from outside the room. The heat of her skin brought to him her sweet fragrance, the scent of freshly laundered bed linens, and the faint tang of medicinals.

He opened his eyes to find her watching him worriedly. "We will stay here awhile longer," he said to her obvious relief. He knew not the consequences of his acquiescence, but something within him hinted it was what destiny had planned all along. "Meanwhile, I'll not squander the opportunity to talk my people into seizing the gauntlet, even if it requires my throwing it at their feet."

"If you think the
Vash Nadah
are stubborn, wait until you see me in action. They won't be able to deny us."

Dryly, Rom said, "An exile and an Earth-dweller conspiring to break down eleven thousand years of galactic pacifism. Should be interesting."

Jas didn't let his sarcasm deter her. Obviously the thought of participating in such an undertaking electrified her. "This is a campaign of good versus evil in its purest form. It's an adventure more ambitious and meaningful than any I've ever imagined." She took a breath to calm herself. "You won't be alone in this. I'll be by your side every step of the way."

Rom covered her shoulders with his hands and moved her to arm's length. "You'd do this for me."

Her voice softened with love. "I'd do
anything
for you."

Her devotion, her absolute faith in him, filled him with wonder. Others had abandoned him—but not her. Sliding the pads of his fingers along her jaw and under her chin, he tilted her face up. "Ah, Jasmine, I bless the day the Great Mother brought you to me, and every day since that She has allowed you to be with me."

Moisture glistened in her eyes. It seemed his admission had caught her off guard.

He gentled his tone. "I am grateful to you, Jas. For your purity of heart, your spontaneity, the way you make me laugh. And that, in my darkest hours, you've always admired me for what others disdained in me." He grazed his knuckle over her cheek. "Sometimes we don't say aloud all that we feel inside. Then the chance is lost and the words never said."