Under Different Stars (16 page)

“Most of them are…crystal, but there are a few nims, too.”

“I have a million questions about Earth,” she says, looking excited again. “Maybe, when we have more time, we can talk about what it’s like there.”

“Sure,” I say casually. “If you’re going to be my assistant, we’ll probably be together a lot.”

“Mazi is going to be so annoyed that she passed up the chance to be your liaison,” Aella gloats. “I’ll find you something to wear that will tell everyone that you’ve
arrived
, while you cleanse.”

“Uh, okay,” I murmur as she reaches out enthusiastically and ushers me to the lavare that is located next to the commodus in my room.

After showering, I’m given a long robe to wear while Aella weaves my hair into intricate patterns. Adjusting an automatic make-up artist, she hands me the box that looks like a viewfinder. “Close your eyes,” she says when I put it to my face.

“Already learned that the hard way,” I reply, smiling while closing my eyes and hearing her giggle as she clicks the button to apply a coat of cosmetics to my face.

“What do you want to project tonight?” she asks, walking into the closet and eyeing the clothes.

“Uhh…I want to project confidence…” I reply, following her in.

“Okay, what else?”

Thinking, I add, “I want to say…‘I’m a boss…I don’t get controlled—I control.’”

Aella’s eyebrow rises as she gazes at my clothes, “Most of this is tailored to look your age—light colors and demure cuts, but you don’t act your age…or look it. Let’s try this. It’s a little daring, but it will work for you, if you own it.” Putting on the sleeveless, blood red silk gown with an internal corset, I turn towards the mirror, seeing the gown hugging my contours in slim, elegant lines.

“This is what I’m supposed to wear to dinner?” Fear begins in the hollow of my stomach and creeps to my extremities.

“This is dinner with the
Regent,
” she corrects me. “He’s meeting with several ambassadors this evening I’m told.” Pulling out almost nude-color heels with red soles, she hands them to me. “This outfit says, ‘I own my destiny.’”

“Would Gizelle wear this dress?” I inquire as I study myself in the mirror and wonder again who I am.

“She couldn’t afford it,” Aella replies with a grin.

“Yeah…well, we have that in common then,” I reply with a grimace. “Am I ready?”

“Yes, I’ll take you down to Thea. She’ll want to take you herself to the Gold Dining Room. It’s in the amethyst passage where the Regent resides.” Leading me out into the hall, Aella begins giving me a tour. “This is the west arcade, we call it the ‘lilac crypt;’ it houses the single females and is a restricted area. Everyone needs to have permission to be here.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s for royal females.”

“So?”

“So…you’re to be protected.”

“Are you single?”

“Yes, I’m only thirty,” she says, rolling her eyes like a teenager.

“You’re thirty? Uh…of course,” I try not to show my surprise as I attempt to cover up for the fact that I thought she was my age. She looks like a teenager and she acts really young, too. “Do you live at the palace?”

“Yes, I have a small apartment in a separate building on the property. I’ve been working here as an undersecretary to the courtier’s office—you know, doing correspondence and arranging accommodations for visiting royalty,” she smiles.

I don’t know, but I’m intrigued. “Really? Does it pay well?” I ask, wondering what I can do here.

“A liaison to you will pay really well,” she says, grinning and nudging me with her shoulder.

Smiling back, I ask, “Who pays you?”

“The Regent’s office,” she replies. “We all work for the Regent.”

Walking together down the grand staircase I had climbed earlier, I catch a glimpse of pale blond hair on the gentlemen milling around the area near the bottom of the stairs. I nearly stop, seeing Kyon approach the steps and wait for me to descend, but I raise my chin instead as my heart drums frantically in my ears.

CHAPTER 14

MY NEXT DEAL

Watching Kyon’s eyes devour every inch of me as I move down the elegant staircase, he says, “Kricket,” when I reach the bottom step.

“Kyon,” I murmur, inclining my head in a civil greeting. He looks tall and buff in a long, elegant coat and black, tailored matching trousers. His crisp white shirt is tied with a white neck cloth. His coat is belted at the waist and if I didn’t already know that he’s a
total
knob knocker, I might’ve found him appealing.

Moving aside, he allows me to descend the last step before he takes my hand, placing it on his arm. To Aella, he says arrogantly, “I will escort Fay Kricket in to dinner. You may leave.”

Fear shines in Aella’s eyes as she assesses the massive enemy soldiers surrounding us. She shows some courage when she raises her eyebrow to me in question. Refusing to let Kyon intimidate me as he towers over me, I say, “I’m fine, Aella. I’ll see you later.” Appearing conflicted about whether she should leave me with Kyon, Aella gives the Alameeda a wide berth as she skirts them to head in the opposite direction.

Allowing Kyon to guide me down the marble tiled hallway, I keep my eyes straight ahead of me, but I can feel his attention on my face. “I’m surprised to see you here, Kyon,” I say, noticing no less than six Alameeda fall in step around us.

“Is that so?” he asks, a note of irritation in his voice.

“Mmm. It’s funny how you turn up in the most unexpected places. Night clubs, restricted airspace, here…why are you here?” I ask, watching Rafe courtiers staring at us in outright disbelief as we pass them.

“I’m here for you,” he says quietly, and the tensing in his arm increases.

“For me? What can you possibly want with me?”

“You belong to me, Kricket. I’m here to take you home,” he replies and he’s not lying. He believes every word he just said. “I’ve come with ambassadors from Alameeda and Wurthem. We’ll work out the terms for your release. It will be just a matter of negotiations.”

“Hold up…can you go back to the part where you said I’m yours? Because that’s where I stopped listening to you!”

“I have been awarded your suit by the Alameeda Brotherhood. You’ll become my consort when we return to Alameeda,” he replies, and my eyes flicker to his, seeing desire in his stare as his blue eyes rest on the cleavage above my gown.

I wrinkle my nose. “Yeah, that’s not happening.” We continue to walk together while I feel him stiffen. His jaw tenses, too, making the planes of his face even more masculine.

“It will happen. You should never have run from me. We could have avoided all of this.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Kyon, but I’m not going to agree to be your consort in this or any other world that you try to drag me to.”

“Your agreement is not required,” he counters, a small smile gracing his lips.

“That’s the most repulsive thing I’ve ever heard,” I reply. “What’s wrong with you? Can’t you find someone else to haunt because I’m
clearly
not into you?”

“You clearly need me, Kricket. Why are you allowed to roam around here without a proper escort?” he growls, glaring menacingly at everyone who passes us.

“What do you think will happen to me?” I blurt out, showing him my annoyance. “I can take care of myself.”

“You’re female. How can you possibly take care of yourself?” he asks in an equally annoyed tone.

“I’ve taken care of myself for years!” I’m completely offended.

“If you take care of yourself so well, then why are there bruises on your neck?” he looks deadly.

“That was a misunderstanding…” Turning another corner, I almost stumble as I recognize the group milling around at the end of the corridor. My pulse quickens as Trey’s handsome, violet eyes turn to meet mine. He looks incredible in a long, black, tailored jacket that is belted at his waist, just as Kyon’s is, but Trey has a long sword-like stick holstered to his belt. It looks like some kind of weapon with a blunt, silver tip. Standing near Jax, Wayra, and Victus, Trey looks the most dangerous; his jaw tenses above his white, tied neck cloth as his eyes shift from me to Kyon at my side.

Feeling weirdly fragile all of a sudden, I blush while we approach the Cavars. They’re staring at me like I’ve grown another head, so I incline my chin in greeting, saying, “Greetings, Etharians. Look who I found roaming the halls.”

After inclining his head to me, Wayra says, “Kricket, you should just ignore the trash you see lying around. There are people here that will clean it up for you.” He places his hand on the club sheathed in his belt to emphasize his words.

Feeling Kyon stiffen more, I smile at Wayra. “You never did give me a recurve, so diplomacy was all that was left to me.” Jax and Wayra grin, but Trey and Victus don’t. Seeing the brothers side-by-side, they are nearly identical, except Trey has broader shoulders than Victus, which is probably due to lifestyle choice. Trey also has military tattoos, which Victus lacks.

“Where are your Regent escorts?” Trey asks me, appearing as annoyed by my current escort as Kyon was when he found me alone.

I use a casual shrug as a cover for dropping my hand from Kyon’s arm. I become almost breathless with relief that he’s going to let me go for a second. “I don’t know. Ustus said he’d see me at dinner. Is this the Gold Dining Room?”

Kyon’s blue eyes narrow dangerously as he addresses Trey. “Are you responsible for the bruises on her neck?”

“I am,” Trey replies, staring back at Kyon and he’s not lying—he must really think he’s responsible for the restraint put on my neck by the Regent agents.

“I should’ve made sure you were dead. What did they do, regenerate you?” Kyon asks. He takes a step closer to Trey as his nostrils flare in anger.

“Something like that,” Trey replies smoothly. He takes a step nearer to Kyon as they do that male stare down thing.

My mind whirls, realizing that Kyon and Trey must’ve fought each other in the war between Alameeda and Rafe. “Trey is not responsible for the bruises on my neck,” I state quietly.

“Is he responsible for bringing you here?” Kyon asks me in a tight voice.

“Yes,” I answer, watching his frown deepen.

“Then, he’s responsible for your bruises.”

“No, I’m responsible for what happens to me and what I do next,” I correct him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m hungry because I’ve been running through the jungle for the past few rotations and eating protein bars that taste like cat poop.”

Dismissing Kyon and shifting toward Trey, I ask, “Do you think they’ll be serving pheasant?” Taking his arm, I wait calmly for him to lead me into the Gold Dining Room.

Looking down at my hand on his arm, Trey seems to relax a little, losing some of the tension he had as he smiles. Kyon, on the other hand, looks like he’s about to have a tantrum.

As Trey leads me away from Kyon, I whisper to him, “Why are you here?”

“We were all summoned by the Regent,” Trey replies, his eyes focusing on mine. My heartbeat speeds up more, seeing how lovely his eyes are.

“Oh,” I murmur, tearing my eyes away from his and feeling disappointed that he didn’t come here specifically to see me.

We enter the Gold Room together and it doesn’t fail to live up to its name. Every fixture in the high-ceilinged room is golden, not to mention the gold chargers beneath the dinner plates lining the long, highly-polished, wood table.

At the other end of the room, a group of three men are standing by the mantel of the fireplace. The taller, athletically built, commanding man is definitely Rafe, judging by his dark Rafeish-brown hair.
This must be the Regent. The smooth skin of his face is unblemished and lightly tanned; he’s used to being outdoors and active, but I can’t tell what he does to make it so. His short hair doesn’t cover his eyebrows and barely touches his collar in the back—closer to a military cut than I’d expect. His attentive violet eyes watch me. He smiles at something the man next to him says, but it seems more calculated than genuine; it also makes him extremely handsome and younger-looking than I’d first thought—maybe late thirties in human terms.
He doesn’t need to be a regent to get a lot of what he wants,
I assess,
he’d just have to employ that smile.

He’s dressed elegantly, just like Trey, except that his belt is larger, with a bigger, shinier, buckle in the front. The other two men he’s with don’t look Rafe, judging by their hair, which are blond and light brown. “His name is Manus. He’s the Regent. You need to make him see you as a Rafe citizen—make it hard for him to treat you like a commodity,” Trey coaches me. His mouth nears my cheek and I shiver again as I react to him, remembering the taste of his lips against mine. Heat steals to my cheeks as I acknowledge his comment with a nod.

“How do I make him see that I’m not a commodity?”

“Just be you…but be respectful.”

“Do you know the blond with him?” I murmur, tilting my face nearer to his and feeling a surge of desire for Trey plow through me.

“Yes, his name is Nark…” Trey trails off when I begin giggling. “What’s so funny?” he asks me, his breath tickling my ear, causing crazy things to happen inside of me.

“Um…where I come from, a narc is someone who tells your secrets,” I reply, seeing him smile.

“That’s apt then, because he’s an Alameeda ambassador—he has many secrets. You’ll address him as Em Nark,” he advises, and I giggle again. “Try not to laugh when you speak to him. He has
no
sense of humor.”

“You’ve met him?” The Regent is still watching me from his conversation with “
the Narc.”

“We’ve met a few times. He likes to gamble, let’s leave it at that,” he says, making my eyebrow arch before gazing back at them.

“The other?”

“Is Sam.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“That’s too normal a name for you guys,” I smile.

“He’s Wurthem,” Trey shrugs.

“Ah. Ambassador?”

“Yes, but he’s an Alameeda puppet.”

“I hate puppets—they’re creepy,” I reply softly, feeling his hand tighten on my arm.

“Yes,” Trey agrees. “Let’s make sure you don’t become one.”

Nearing the Regent and the ambassadors, Trey and I stop in front of them. I mimic Trey as we both kneel in a sign of respect to the leader of the Rafe clan. Em Nark immediately speaks up, as I begin to rise. “Kricket, you do not need to kneel before Haut Manus. You simply incline your head to him as a sign of respect.”

Trey narrows his eyes at the ambassador while I watch Manus studying me. “With all respect, Em Nark,” I say, smiling, “Manus is not only my Regent, he is also my guardian and therefore I will show him my respect.”
For now
, my mind whispers.

“You are an Alameeda priestess,” Em Nark responds sourly, frowning at me.

“I’m a Rafe citizen,” I keep smiling, “and I’ve just returned home.”

“We have been discussing your home,” Em Nark says, his pudgy face jiggling. “We have not decided where you will reside.”

“Is that so? Let me pull up a chair then so we can continue the discussion,” I watch his face go from pale to flushed.

“Perhaps there will be time to hear your thoughts on this matter after dinner, Fay Kricket,” Manus says, his eyes softening in the corners as they take in everything about me.

“I will look forward to dessert then,” I reply, seeing a real smile twist Manus’s lips. Trey leads me away from them so that the others can be introduced.

“That was perfect, Kricket,” Trey breathes in my ear, guiding me over to the table. A member of the Regent’s staff indicates that I’m to sit on the opposite end of the table facing the Regent. I reluctantly let go of Trey and the security I felt at being by his side wanes with each step I take. Trey is much closer to the Regent’s end of the table. An attendant pulls my chair out for me, but as I begin to sit another member of the Regent’s staff rushes over and whispers in his associate’s ear.

“Fay Kricket, please excuse me, but you’re to dine next to the Regent this evening,” he says in a formal voice, gesturing to the other end of the table.

“Oh,” I murmur, my eyes find Trey’s as he stands by his seat next to Victus. His eyes widen in surprise, too. I thank the footman as he escorts me to the other end of the table. Seating me beside the Regent, who’s at the head of the table, I smile at him when he takes his seat. Everyone else sits as well and I cringe, realizing that Kyon is next to me, too.

A footman approaches my seat, carrying a mahogany box. Holding it out to me, I gaze at the polished box that has two holes in the front of it, having no idea what I’m supposed to do with it. Reaching out, I attempt to take the box from the footman, and the look of surprise that crosses his face as his grip tightens on it is almost comical.

“Fay Kricket,” Trey says from across the table from me, “that is a basiness. You place your hands in the holes and it will clean them.”

“Oh, my bad,” I reply, turning back to the footman holding the box. Tentatively, I place my hands in the box, feeling warm steam shower them. I smile as I glance back at Trey. “Who invented this?” I ask. “It’s very clever.”