Under Different Stars (22 page)

“You’re pathetic,” I whisper to myself.

**

Unfortunately, I don’t have time to wallow in my pain. I spend the next several weeks wading through social gatherings at the palace. I fake smile at dinner parties, teas, and luncheons with the Regent, Rafe officials, and foreign dignitaries from Wurthem, Comantre, and Peney. I try to listen to every word that may have significance as to what’s happening within Rafe and outside its borders.

After each event, the Regent and I usually have a Q & A regarding who lied about what and what I was able to uncover covertly. And, if that’s not hard enough, these meetings always include Trey as my personal protection slash reminder that I suck at love. But, I look forward to these meetings in a sick, pathetic way because they are the few times that Trey and I say anything to each other. He asks me questions and I answer him, but when we’re alone, like in the skiff, neither of us has much to say.

That doesn’t mean that the common symmetry between us has gone away. On the contrary, now that we don’t talk, the attraction is all I can feel. I find myself counting when I am near him. I count how many times he glances at me or looks up when my name is mentioned. I count how rapid my breathing becomes when he walks into the room, or how much it slows when he leaves it.

Kicking off my heels and tossing my wrap on my bed, I reach up to try to catch the clasp on the exquisite necklace the Regent wanted me to wear to the dinner party this evening.

“Here, let me do that,” Aella says, swiftly releasing me from the heavy collar.

“Ahh, thank you,” I sigh, feeling like I can breathe again.

“This came for you while you were at dinner,” Aella says, handing me a card, while putting the necklace back in a box to take with her.

“Who is it from?” I hold still as Aella begins unhooking all the clasps on the evening gown of pale yellow satin.

“Ateur Braedan. He wants you to ride with him tomorrow.”

“Oh, that could be fun,” I murmur, having had a few riding lessons from my tutor, Tofer. “Is Victus going to be there, too?” Those two seem to always be together.

“No…he wants to ride with you alone,” she says, helping me step out of the gown.

My brow wrinkles. “Why?” I ask, while slipping into a pair of pajama bottoms Aella had made for me at my request. She also made up some thin t-shirts and tanks for me, but she always looks disapproving when I put one on, like now, because she says they make me look “human.”

“Probably because he desires you,” she replies, and I scoff, like she’s making a joke.

“Yeah, no, seriously, does it say?” I glance at the card.

“I am serious,” she smiles. “He’s sent several notes to you requesting to be your dinner partner or to take a stroll on the grounds with him.”

“He has?” I exclaim, shocked. “Why haven’t I seen them?”

“Security screened them,” she says, folding the gown in tissue and placing it in a box to be laundered.

“Security?” I ask, frowning.

“Mmm,” she says absently. “You get lots of stuff that never gets through. I had to send back a mountain of things from Haut Nim himself. Jewelry, furs, clothes, scents…you name it, he has sent it.”

“Haut Nim?” I ask.

“Haut Kyon,” Aella replies with an ironic expression. “He couldn’t get an audience with you if the entire Alameeda army shows up on the grounds, not that it stops him from trying everyday.”

“I thought he left,” I say honestly, feeling fear rush through me. “I haven’t seen him around.”

“The Regent agreed with Kesek Trey that Haut Kyon is too much for you to contend with while you’re trying to assimilate here. He’s been kept away for your protection,” Aella states, picking up the boxes. “Do you want me to agree to the ride with Ateur Braedan?”

“Uhh, no. I don’t really feel like riding,” I say, feeling awkward. “Oh, here…I asked the footman tonight for an extra piece of that cocoa fantasy cake you love,” I say, handing her the small box.

“You are my favorite Etharian, Kricket!” Aella says, happily taking the treat from me.

“Well, you’re Sergen’s favorite Etharian. When I told him that it was for you, he tried to give me the whole top tier of the cake.”

Aella blushes, looking delighted. “I’ll thank him tomorrow. Good night, Kricket.”

“Good night, Aella,” I smile, watching her place everything in a hover courier and program it to transport the cargo for her.

As I lie in my bed, I try to take my mind off the events of the evening by flipping mindlessly through the programs on the hologram vision. But, I keep focusing on the fact that things are getting entirely too scary to ignore. Seeing the alarm in Manus’s eyes tonight when I told him about the Peney ambassador’s lie regarding the breakdown in talks with the Alameeda over their renewed interest in the Tectonic Peninsula has me worried, too.

I’ve learned that the Tectonic Peninsula is a strategic area of land owned by Peney. It would be integral for mounting an offense against Rafe because it would allow Alameeda a staging point for their troops through its ports and airspace. If Alameeda secures it, then they eliminate the protracted resupplying of those troops.

After an hour of tossing and turning in bed, I throw my blanket aside with a huff. Getting up, I creep down to the first floor and head to the back of the house where the kitchen is located. I nearly collide with Drex and Fenton. They’re patrolling the halls of the manor with large weapons that look like machine guns, but can shoot projectiles, lasers, or electricity, depending on the need.

“What are you doing up, Kricket? Do you know what time it is?” Fenton asks, with a cheeky grin, eyeing my pajamas.

“I’m going to the kitchen…I mean the ‘keuken’ to see if there’s any venish left or if Wayra ate it all,” I say, smiling at him.

“He ate it,” Drex and Fenton say in unison.

“Oh,” I sigh disappointedly, “figures. Can I bring either of you back something?”

They both look at each other and grin. Drex says,  “Ah, no. We have to patrol the perimeter, but we’re playing fritzer later, if you’re interested.”

“Didn’t I already take all of your money, Drex?” I grin, backing down the hall.

“Yeah, you knob knocker, she already skinned ya. You want to keep bleeding coin, keep trying to best a priestess,” Fenton insults Drex. “She can probably see right through your cards.”

“Can you?” Drex asks, looking intrigued.

“I’ll never tell,” I reply, putting my finger to my lips before turning and walking toward the kitchen.

Going directly to the commissary unit, located on the kitchen wall, I browse through the pictures of entrée’s still available.

As I pick up the plate of savory pheasant, I nearly drop it when I turn and see Kyon sitting at the long, black soapstone table with his feet up on it. “Kyon!” I gasp, “You scared me! What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you. You’ve been ignoring me,” he replies, looking relaxed as he pulls his feet off the table. He sees me look toward the entrance to the kitchen and says, “Please sit. I came to talk to you.”

I set my plate down on the table across from him and sit down. “How did you know I’d be here?” I ask him, suspicious.

Kyon’s blue eyes meet mine. “Em Quinn said you didn’t eat much at dinner this evening. I took the chance that you’d be hungry later,” he smiles at me. His blond hair is pulled back from his face and the soft light makes it look darker—more golden.

“That’s interesting. Does the ambassador of Peney often spy for you?” I ask, feeling uneasy that Em Quinn is passing information about me to Kyon.

He relaxes in his chair; his massive shoulders block the seatback from sight. “When the need warrants it and it costs him nothing.”

I grasp my fork more tightly. “Interesting. So, why are you here?”

“I’ve come to talk to you about the growing tension between the houses. There is unrest. We’re on the brink of war, Kricket,” he says honestly, watching my reaction.

Fear threads through me with icy fingers. “Can it be avoided?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Alameeda is meant to rule Ethar,” Kyon replies. “You’re a part of that, Kricket. You’re of Alameeda, too.”

“Do you know how ridiculous you sound?” I see Kyon’s eyebrows draw together. “That sounds like comic book crap. Only complete morons want to take over the world.”

“The Brotherhood has a vision, Kricket. They want a peaceful world for their people.” His words chill me.

“Their people, but not all people,” I say. “What happens to everyone else?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know, but I’ll protect you when that day comes.”

Goosebumps form all over my body. “I can’t be a part of any of that, Kyon.”

“You’ll feel differently when the house of Rafe falls. I came here tonight to tell you that I have to leave Rafe. I want you to come with me.”

“I’ll take my chances here, thanks,” I reply, feeling myself growing paler by the second.

“You know that they’re just using you for your gifts.”

“And it would be different with you, how?”

“It
would
be different with me. I care for you,” he says, looking annoyed…but honest.

“I’m staying here. My friends need me,” I reply.

Kyon leans toward me calmly, setting his enormous hands on the table. “He doesn’t need you, Kricket. He’s going to commit to someone else and when he does, you’ll be dying to be anywhere but here.” The truth of his statement knocks the breath out of me.

“That’s not your problem,” I say, looking away from his piercing blue eyes.

“It is my problem,” Kyon replies with menace in his voice.

“I don’t want your help.”

“With your upbringing, I’m sure you’ve already seen that want and need are two very different things,” he states, rising from his chair at the table and pacing the room. “Rafe and Comantre can’t possibly hold out against us this time. You’re on the losing side.”

“What makes this time so different from last time?”

“Last time, there was a neutral house.”

“Peney? Peney is siding with Alameeda? Are they going to relinquish the Tectonic Peninsula?” I breathe, feeling panic rush through me.

“They will,” Kyon replies, frowning. “It’s war, Kricket, the likes of which you probably can’t even imagine…yet. Alameeda only needed a sign to rally around to get us here…and that’s you, Kricket.”

“Me?” I feel ill.

“Yes…the Brotherhood believes that you are the one spoken of in the prophecy. The priestess born of two houses that will bring about the demise of one, leaving one house to rule Ethar,” he replies grimly.

“Who—”

“Your mother was prolific, especially in the realm of precognition. She saw many things.”

“Which house will fall?” I ask, not sure if I can trust what he believes to be true because it sounds like a bunch of freaky nonsense. But, even if it is nonsense, if the Alameeda believe it, it can become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

“I was hoping you could tell me that, Kricket,” he replies speculatively. “Come with me now and I’ll work with you to develop your gifts.”

“I don’t think I want that gift, Kyon. Especially when it can be used to pinpoint future Rafe positions and predict their next move.”

“Ah, so you’ve learned what some priestesses can do?” he asks. “You’ll participate, either way…you just need to choose a side…unless, you want to play for both sides.”

“What?” My hands begin to shake beneath the table.

“You’re a survivor…maybe you don’t have to choose a side, but play for both teams. A little information here…a little there…”

“You know, you remind me a lot of a foster father I once had, Kyon.”

“Is that so?”

“It is. His name was Daniel—Dan “the man.” That’s what all his friends called him at the bar on our street. They’d all shout it, too, whenever he walked through the door. I loved him as a kid; I
actually
loved that man,” I say shaking my head. “He taught me a lot. He showed me how to hustle so that I’d never go hungry on the streets of Chicago. He was educated and he spoke well; he taught me to speak well. He also taught me scams that kept a roof over our heads. He was great, until I turned fourteen and Dan thought he knew a new way for us to make money. One night, he came home drunk from the bar. He brought some friends with him. He offered me to them for money. When I fought them off with one of their broken beer bottles, he nearly killed me before he passed out. You’re a lot like him, Kyon. It’s there in your eyes. You’ll do anything to survive. I’ve made my decision. I’m Rafe, screw Alameeda.”

Kyon’s expression is grim. “I’m nothing like that human! I’m offering you a way out, Kricket,” he says defensively. “The Brotherhood will begin a smear campaign against you if you stay, making it look like you’re the real reason they’re going to war. You’ll be reviled wherever you go—in Rafe, in Comantre, in Peney—”

“I’m used to that, Kyon,” I reply. I lift up my shirt a little and show him my shank scar on my abdomen. “What else you got?” I ask, dropping my shirt and crossing my arms.

“He’s got a few circas of vista to drug you into going with him, Kricket. Don’t you Kyon?” Trey says from the doorway of the kitchen.