Descended

  “Really,” I said to Kristoff. “You don’t have to do that. I’ve been bathing myself since I was five. I can manage.”

  “No you can’t. Normally you’d have a female attendant for such matters but I trust no one at the moment.” He looked grim. “And I am trained to such service, as well as to guard and protect you.”

  “You are?” I said and then remembered how he’d washed and folded my laundry back home. “Oh, I guess you are. But I mean, you really don’t have to.”

  He frowned. “My Lady, there were two attempts on your life today. I want to check you over thoroughly and make certain I haven’t missed any injuries you might have incurred.”

  “Well…” I bit my lip and shrugged. “Okay, I guess if you feel like you have to.”

  His eyes softened for just a moment.

  “I want to, Charlotte,” he said softly. “I want to serve you—to make you feel better. This has been a difficult day for you. Please, let me tend to you.”

  When he put it that way, I could hardly refuse.

  “All right,” I said, biting my lip. “If you really want to.”

  “I do.” He turned and went into the other room, leaving me alone on the plush gray couch in my bra and undies trying to ignore the tingling of need that was turning into a throbbing between my thighs.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Kristoff

  We slept so deeply I didn’t waken until a pounding on the door shattered my sleep.

  “Captain? Captain are you up?” It was T’zorin’s voice.

  I sat up, my heart pounding. I was completely entangled with Charlotte—her silky limbs entwined with mine in a way that would be considered most improper—if not outright blasphemy—by the members of the Council of Wisdom. The Goddess-Empress was not to have such intimate physical contact with any but her Consort and that only after she was mated.

  Speaking of things the Empress wasn’t supposed to do with anyone but her Consort, I had been skirting dangerously close to the line last night the way I had pleasured her. I had told myself it was an act of service—just part of the bathing process. But if I was honest, I had to admit that it was much, much more than that.

  I could still remember the moment when she reached the peak—the way she called my name and clung to my shoulders as the pleasure overtook her. Gods, she was so beautiful—so wild and wanton and free. It almost hurt to remember it and yet I couldn’t forget—the look on her lovely face as she came on my fingers was burned into my memory forever.

  After that, I had wanted to be strong—to put some distance between us. But when she begged me to share her bed, what could I do? I knew it was weak to give in to my desire to be near her, but I couldn’t help myself. More and more I was having feelings for my new mistress I had never had for the old one. Though I had loved Sundalla the 999th with all my heart, our relationship had never been physical. With Charlotte, it was completely different—we had been drawn together when I was trying to save her from the Burning Blood and now it seemed impossible to extricate ourselves.

  Case in point, the way we’d slept entangled last night. I had been trying so hard to keep her at arm’s length for her own good. And yet, when I heard her soft sobs in the darkness, a part of me had melted. I had felt her pain, her wish for her home world as clearly through our bond as though she had spoken it aloud. I couldn’t resist holding her then, even though I knew it was improper and that it would probably only throw fuel on the fire that was our attraction for each other.

  As I held her close and stroked her silky hair, soothing her until her pain and misery changed to contentment and peace and she fell asleep in my arms, I had reflected that it was a good thing she couldn’t feel my emotions as I could feel hers. A good thing the bond between and Empress and her Guards was strictly one way.

  Because make no mistake about it—I wanted Charlotte as much or more than she wanted me and I was damn glad she didn’t know it. I no longer thought it was just a byproduct of receiving so much of her blood, either. I was deeply afraid that I was in danger of falling in love with my new mistress—which would be a disaster.

  I can’t love her, I thought as I disentangled myself from her gently and went to open the door where T’zorin was still banging and calling my name. At worst, if someone guessed my feelings, Charlotte could be brought before the Council of Wisdom to answer for her infidelity. At best, it would just be my own secret pain—a thorn lodged in my heart which pricked me every time I saw her with whatever Consort she ended up with. Even now, the thought of her sharing another male’s bed made a low growl of rage rise in my throat—a growl I had to swallow back down as I went to the door.

  “What is it?” I asked, opening it to find T’zorin standing there with a worried look on his face.

  “Captain, the Council has voted to move the time of the Trials of Ascendancy up by two hours,” he said. “Has no one told you?”

  “Not until now. This is Morbain’s doing,” I growled. “When are the Trials starting?”

  “In half an hour. I thought I’d better come tell you since you weren’t in the Grand Hall yet.”

  I swore loudly. If I didn’t have Charlotte in the Grand Hall in time, she would forfeit the challenge and Morbain’s candidate would be crowned by default.

  “Will she be ready?” T’zorin inquired.

  “We’ll be there,” I said grimly. “Don’t worry—and thank you for coming to tell me.”

  “I’m here for you, Captain. We’ll stand strong together.” He saluted. “And I want you to know I’m sorry about the exploding mug—I checked every other part of the guest suite but the undermaid had just brought the tray in before you came.”

  “And have you found out who the undermaid was that delivered the tray?” I asked sharply.

  He nodded. “But I don’t think she had anything to do with what happened. Some other agent was behind it.”

  “And I can guess who,” I said sourly. “T’zorin, there was something else—a scroll left behind one of the cushions. It was, ah…” I cleared my throat. “One of the historical documents—the one dealing with Sundalla the 887th and her chosen Guard. I think someone left it here on purpose for Charlotte to find.”

  He shook his head, frowning. “If so then whoever left it did so after I had already checked the room. I swear I was thorough in my sweep—something like that would not have escaped my notice.”

  “All right then.” I sighed. “We’ll just have to double security. I want a double guard posted on the True Incarnation’s door at all times. Make sure they’re males we can trust.”

  “Yes, Captain.” He saluted.

  “Good. Dismissed. I’ll see you at the Grand Hall.”

  He nodded and left with the look of a male who has much to accomplish and not much time to accomplish it in.

  I knew how he felt.

  Charlotte

  “Get up! We have to hurry.”

  “Wha…what’s going on?” I blinked blearily, trying to focus on what Kristoff was saying.

  “Morbain has gotten the Council to move the Trials up in hopes that you’ll forfeit by missing them,” he explained, all but pulling me out of bed. “Come, we can’t be late.”

  “Oh!” His words woke me up and got me moving. “But I don’t have anything to wear or—”

  “I’m taking care of that.” He was already typing rapidly on the holographic keyboard by the clothing-producing armoire. “Here—eat this.” He turned around for a moment to toss me a familiar looking tube.

  I groaned. “Not more nutrient paste!”

  “It’s all we have time for and you’re going to need your strength,” Kristoff told me. He threw a stern look over his shoulder. “Eat it, Charlotte.”

  I didn’t want to—I’d had plenty of the bland, meaty, cardboard-tasting stuff on the trip from Earth to Femme One but there didn’t seem to be much of a choice.

  Popping off the top, I squirted a cold, slimy mouthful onto my tongue and shuddered as I made myself swa
llow it. Despite its disgusting taste, my stomach growled and I realized how hungry I was. I’d hardly had anything to eat the entire previous day. I finished off the tube just as Kristoff finished typing.

  “This should work.” He drew a long, sheathe-like gown made of a shimmering silvery-gold material out of the magic armoire and held it out to me. “Quickly—we need to get this on you.”

  “I don’t know.” I eyed the gown doubtfully. “That looks like it’s going to be awfully tight. I’m not exactly as skinny as my competitor, you know.”

  “She’s an imposter,” Kristoff growled, pulling my nightdress over my head and starting to put the golden gown on me, despite my muffled protests. “And she’s too thin—this dress will show off your curves.”

  “Well, she’s not too thin for my planet,” I said, as my head popped out the top of the shimmering gold dress and my arms followed. “In fact, she’s pretty much perfection.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that she’s an imposter. Or that she isn’t one tenth as lovely as you are, my Lady.”

  He adjusted the gown and frowned thoughtfully.

  “Come look in the viewer.”

  He led me to another room where there was a 3-D mirror thing which showed how the gown fit. And let me tell you—how it fit was tight. It clung to my curves in a way that made me look like a too-full hourglass overflowing at both ends. The sheathe-like dress started right at mid-boob and then continued down, cinching in at the waist, clinging to my thighs and ending in a mermaid-bottom that started at my knees and belled out into a rustling mass of fabric in a kind of short train behind me.

  “Kristoff,” I protested, tugging at the top, which showed a lot more cleavage than I liked. “I really don’t think—I mean, this isn’t me at all!”

  “You need to look regal,” he said, frowning.

  “Well, I’m not going to look anything but crazy if I can’t move,” I said. “This thing is killing me!”

  “Here.” he made some kind of adjustment to the gown and abruptly I could breathe a little easier. It still looked much more revealing than I liked but at least I didn’t think I’d faint from oxygen deprivation while wearing it. “Well?” Kristoff asked, raising an eyebrow. “Better?”

  “I guess,” I grumbled. “But I’m afraid I’m still going to look crazy—look at my hair.”

  I have naturally wavy—almost curly hair that I normally keep confined in a tight ponytail at the back of my head. It’s just easier that way and I don’t want it getting in my face when I’m dealing with an emergency situation at the ER. Now, however, it wasn’t just in my face—it was all over the place. Belatedly, I realized that I shouldn’t have gone to bed with it damp—now I was paying the price.

  “I don’t have any makeup with me either,” I pointed out to Kristoff. “Not that I wear a lot but as my mom used to say, everybody needs a little help. Right now I look like a crazy woman in a pretty dress.”

  “Come here—we can take care of all that if we hurry.” He was already leading me into another room.

  “What? Are you a hairdresser and make-up artist too?” I asked, frowning. “That seems like a lot of training on top of being a bodyguard and a warrior.”

  “Naturally not—we’ll use the auto-coif. My old mistress had all the Guest Quarters fitted with them a few cycles ago.”

  As he spoke, he gestured to a round, black, circular platform in the center of the room. There was a control panel on the wall, again in those strange alien letters I would soon have to learn.

  “What am I supposed to do?” I asked, as he positioned me on the circle and went back to the control panel.

  “Just hold still,” Kristoff was already punching in commands. Suddenly, the circle I was standing on lit up and began to glow iridescent blue. Then a shimmering cylinder that seemed to be made of pure light descended all around me.

  “Uh…Kristoff?” I asked uncertainly. I wasn’t exactly feeling claustrophobic because I could see through the cylinder to where he was punching more commands into the control panel but, I still didn’t like being confined to a small area.

  “Hold still,” he ordered again. “I’m setting it for the lightest application. Your beauty doesn’t need much augmentation.”

  “Application of what?” I demanded and then the light cylinder moved inward and I had a feeling of warmth that seemed to envelope me from the top of my head all the way to the bottoms of my feet. Speaking of which, I didn’t have any shoes on. Why were we worrying about hair and make-up when I was still barefoot?

  Before I could point that fact out to Kristoff, I felt the strangest sensation all over my face. It was like a thousand butterfly wings caressing my cheeks and chin and lips and brows all at once—a light but continuous fluttering all over. It wasn’t unpleasant but it was unexpected and I had to steel myself to hold still as Kristoff had ordered.

  At the same time, I became aware that something was tugging at my hair Not just one something though—about a thousand somethings were pulling gently, doing something to my unruly waves that I couldn’t begin to guess. Again, it didn’t hurt, but it did feel weird. Like someone was lifting every stand of hair on my head at once. What the hell was going on?

  I didn’t have long to wonder because the whole process took less than a minute. Almost before I knew it, the shimmering light was withdrawing and the iridescent blue circle I was standing on faded back to black.

  “What just happened to me?” I asked, when it seemed safe to talk. “I meant that was weird. Did that machine comb my hair or something?”

  “More than that. Come back to the viewer.”

  Kristoff was looking extremely pleased with himself as he led me back to the 3-D viewing room. What I saw made me suck in my breath in surprise.

  “Oh,” I whispered, putting a hand to my cheek. “Is that really me?”

  From the neck up I had been completely transformed.

  My face was lightly but expertly made up. My eyes had been turned into smoky, sultry green jewels and my lips and cheeks had been touched with purest carmine red. My hair was swirled into an elegant up-do with little curling tendrils artfully arranged to frame my face.

  I felt like I was looking at a stranger—a really pretty one but a stranger nonetheless. I hadn’t looked this good even when I dressed up to go to prom in high school or when I was in a friend’s fancy, formal wedding.

  “This is…amazing,” I whispered, reaching up to touch my other cheek. “I can’t believe that’s really me.”

  “It’s really you, my Lady,” Kristoff murmured. “The dress and all the work of the auto-coif are simply like the setting to a beautiful jewel. They haven’t changed a thing—only enhanced it. And now we have to go or we will be too late.”

  “Okay—oh, wait!” I said. “I forgot—I don’t have any shoes on.”

  Kristoff cursed and looked at the chronometer on his wrist.

  “I knew I was forgetting something! But there’s no time now—your dress hides your feet, at least.”

  “But—” I started to protest but he was already taking me by the hand and leading me out of the guest suite.

  As we left, a group of guards dressed much like he was—(and when had he had time to get into his uniform? I didn’t know)—fell into position around us, completely surrounding us on all sides.

  “Who are they?” I murmured to Kristoff as we rushed down the broad hallway—the black marble floor cold under my bare feet.

  “An honor guard. They will accompany you everywhere you go until I’m certain you’re no longer in danger,” he said. “Come—the Grand Hall is just ahead. We’ll be just in time.”

  “But the Trials!” I exclaimed. “You never told me anything about them! What are they? What am I supposed to do? I mean, I’m assuming it’s nothing too physical or you wouldn’t have dressed me up like this but I just don’t know—”

  “You will see,” he said, giving me a swift glance. “Truly, my Lady, it’s better if you know nothing about them unti
l you encounter them. Just remember, whatever happens and whatever you are asked to do, do it without fear. You are the True Incarnation and no harm will befall you. Do you understand?”

  That sounded kind of ominous but we were already at the large, gilded double doors that led to a hall crowded with people. Very tall people, as it turned out. Anyway, there was no more time to ask questions—I decided I would just have to trust him.

  “Yes,” I said. “I understand.”

  “Good,” he said and pulled me into the room.

  Chapter Twenty

  Charlotte

  I hadn’t been sitting on the couch long, listening to the rushing of water in the other room, before I decided to try and get more comfortable. I started to stretch out and reached for one of the puffy cushions that littered the plush gray surface of the couch. When I moved it, something long and slender rolled into view.

  It was a long, golden cylinder about the length of my forearm and the width of one of my fingers. It looked a little like a baton because it had two golden spheres on either end of it.

  I started to reach for it, then I remembered the innocent-looking coffee mug. Heart pounding, I opened my mouth to call for Kristoff and that was when the strange golden rod came to life.

  There was a buzzing hum and a screen that appeared to be made entirely of light suddenly projected out of it. The screen was about a foot long and two feet high and for a moment it was completely blank.

  I didn’t know what to make of it. Was this yet another assassination attempt? Should I be screaming my head off for Kristoff and diving under the couch?

  Then it flickered and a small figure, about the size of a Barbie doll appeared on it, rendered in perfect 3-D. She was clearly someone important because she was wearing an expensive looking jewel encrusted gown and a crown on her head. She had blonde hair about the color of mine and deep green eyes.