Win

  “Where’s everyone else?” I say.

  “Gracie and Laronda should be coming here either today or tomorrow, and Dawn is—”

  But Manala interrupts by waving her hand back and forth in the air. “Oh, no . . .” she says. “Oh, no, bad Khemji!”

  Aeson stands up, wrinkling his forehead and shakes his head. Then he starts laughing helplessly, while the cat continues moving around his legs and purring loudly.

  And in the next few seconds, as the circulating air in the hallway reaches me, loaded with an awful ripe smell, I understand why.

  Khemji has passed gas, in a big way.

  Chapter 23

  “Oh no, My Imperial Princess Manala, you brought this infernal cat here during a meal? How could you?” Keruvat says with a chuckle as soon as we all return to the living room.

  The eos bread service is laid out, and everyone is holding plates and glasses.

  Aeson and I head to the sofa, with Manala in tow, shooing Khemji in, who does not appear to need any prompting and simply runs after Aeson’s legs like a trained puppy.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Manala hurries to explain. “Khemji should behave very well, and not bother the food dishes or beg for food—I made sure and fed him very, very well right before leaving the Palace—”

  Xelio looks at Manala with amusement. “Well, that’s the problem right there, My Imperial Princess,” he says kindly, in a tone which I’ve never heard him use before with anyone, very gentle and brotherly. “Now that Khemji has had his eos bread, he is going to need to use certain unholy elimination facilities intended only for cats—”

  “Oh, no!” Manala blushes and puts her hands over her mouth. “I didn’t think!” And she continues to look at Xelio, while turning a deeper red.

  “Well, it certainly explains the air in the hallway,” Aeson says, keeping a straight face, and taking a seat on the sofa. Before I have the chance to sit next to him, Khemji the giant cat springs up on the sofa in my spot and then keeps going, and jumps directly in the Imperial Crown Prince’s lap.

  “Oof!” Aeson says, wincing.

  “Whoa, hard landing, Kass! Hope it didn’t impact the Imperial ability to have children,” Keruvat says, with a sympathetic wince.

  Oalla elbows Ker to be quiet.

  “Aeson! Are you okay?” I exclaim, not sure if I ought to laugh or be worried.

  But Aeson merely shakes his head and chuckles. He then takes the elephant-sized cat with both hands to shift Khemji’s position, and continues to hold him with practiced ease in one hand, while rubbing him behind the ears and then under the chin. In seconds, the engine-loud purr resumes—so loud, it can be heard all across the room.

  “Come, Gwen,” Aeson tells me, patting the now empty spot on the sofa next to him. “Sit right here and don’t be afraid, the animal is tame and harmless.”

  “Oh, I’m not afraid,” I say, staring down at both of them, my Bridegroom and the cat, with fascination. “I was just worried for a moment that Khemji literally crushed you. Are you sure you’re okay with him there—”

  “Takes more than one fat cat to damage Kass,” Erita says, keeping her full mouth in a very controlled line. “Don’t worry, your man is hardy, and will give you many children.”

  I start to blush at that comment. And then I turn quite accidentally to glance behind me and suddenly realize . . .

  What happened to Hasmik?

  I turn around all the way and see that apparently Hasmik has not come into the room with us. Instead, the girl shyly stands at the threshold, watching everyone present. Seeing me notice her, she tentatively waves with one lowered hand.

  “Hasmik?” I say. “What are you doing? Come in, please!”

  “Are you sure? Is it okay for me to be here, Gwen?” she says quietly, glancing around at all the astra daimon who also were her former RQC Instructors. She must be feeling extremely intimidated right now, I realize. Oh no!

  So I turn back and march past the food tables and the servants and the seated daimon. I approach Hasmik and take her by the hand, pulling her with me.

  “Of course it’s okay, it’s more than okay, you’re my friend, and so is everyone else here! Let’s eat, girl!” I say.

  Hasmik follows me to the sofa and starts to sit down next to me. However, she nearly trips over Xelio’s long legs, which he has casually propped up on a low table between the sofa and the chair, directly in her path. Xelio reaches forward quickly with one powerful hand and stops her from falling over his feet.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry!” Hasmik exclaims, straightening, as Xelio releases his hold on her upper arm.

  “No harm done,” he says calmly, watching her with his black eyes.

  “I did not see . . . I hope I did not hurt you.” Hasmik pales slightly.

  “Let’s consider this—you are not Khemji, and this is not my lap. So, all is well,” Xel says, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Now you, on the other hand, seem to have a history of getting your feet in trouble. That ankle has healed properly, I assume?”

  “The what? Ankle?” Hasmik wrinkles her brow in confusion and glances down anxiously at her own feet. And then she says, “Oh! Oh, how did you—you remembered!”

  “You fainted due to a badly sprained ankle while Kass was punishing the Yellow Quadrant. As incidents go, it was rather unforgettable. It stands vividly in one’s memory, linked together with the shoelace incident,” Xel says with mocking amusement. “Isn’t that right, Kass?”

  Aeson turns to him while absentmindedly stroking the back of Khemji’s head. “What?” And then he recalls with a thin smile. “Ah, yes. It was a day of bitter retribution for the Candidates of Pennsylvania RQC-3.”

  “Oh, that was awful!” I exclaim, thinking of that fateful Combat class, and how Hasmik got singled out together with select others to stand on one foot in punishment for sub-par performance, while she happened to have a serious ankle injury. I had tried to help her stand by holding her hand, but it didn’t help—Aeson, the cruel taskmaster, saw us and almost had both of us disqualified for cheating. The only thing that helped was Hasmik fainting from pain and being sent to the doctor, and Xelio putting in a good word for me. . . . It’s amazing that Xelio remembered all of it now!

  “I was hard on all of you that day,” Aeson says thoughtfully.

  “Oh, it’s okay . . .” Hasmik says with a sudden worried expression. She glances from Aeson to Xelio, and her fingers clasp nervously at the edges of her shirt. “I understand. . . . You lost good people—your friends in that horrible shuttle explosion, so you were upset, My Imperial Lord. If I lost my friends, I would be too!”

  “How very understanding you are,” Xelio says mockingly, craning his neck slightly to watch her sideways with his intense narrowed eyes. “Fact is, Kass was a real prick that day, and it’s a good thing you fainted when you did. Because it’s quite possible, if things had gone differently, neither one of you two sweet Earth Candies would be here now. Not to mention, Kass would’ve disqualified the future love of his life due to his own idiocy.”

  “Ah, keep talking, Xel. . . .” Aeson shakes his head, but I can tell he is still thoughtful, in the way he glances at Hasmik, and then at me—with a guilty look, of all things. And I must say it’s such a lovable guilty look, out of such beautiful lapis lazuli blue eyes, that it melts my heart. . . . Aeson is feeling bad about what happened back then, I realize.

  Poor Hasmik continues standing, not daring to move from the awkward spot she’s in.

  But Xelio snorts suddenly, dissipating the tension. “Come, sit down, don’t be shy,” he tells Hasmik, pointing to the empty spot on the sofa next to me and directly across from him. “It’s ‘Hasmik,’ is it not?” he adds with a wicked smile. “Here, have something tasty and enjoy the Imperial hospitality.”

  Hasmik nods and then perches on the sofa next to me with a self-effacing smile. I immediately squeeze her hand and offer her a big plate.

  Manala meanwhile, the only one of us still not seated, lingers nervously
behind Aeson’s spot on the sofa, peeking over his shoulder at Khemji. “Want me to take him, Aeson? Should I take him?” she whispers loudly near his ear.

  Aeson shakes his head. “It’s fine for now. Get your food, and I’ll hold him.”

  “Maybe I can hold him?” I say bravely, putting my hand on Khemji’s silky belly fur. Khemji turns his head at me and blinks slowly, continuing to purr loudly. He then does this funny twitch thing with his right hind leg, up in the air.

  “We can both hold him!” Hasmik says helpfully from my other side.

  “If you stretch him out lengthwise, all three of you can hold him,” Oalla says with amusement, picking up a glass of steaming lvikao. “Though, I don’t envy the one who gets the tail end.”

  Ker chuckles. “Just keep it turned away from us here. Its aim is potent.”

  Aeson raises one brow and keeps his lips tight against a smile. But the corners of his mouth are betraying him. And he continues to hold the cat with one hand while Manala gets her plate filled, and sits down to eat.

  Khemji soon tires of being held and rubbed, struggles and gets down from Aeson’s lap, and starts moving around the room like a little fat pony. Manala springs up and follows him closely.

  “It’s okay, I won’t let him knock anything down,” she says, glancing back at us.

  All the daimon watch her in amusement—and the servants look on in trepidation—as for the next few seconds she chases the cat around the room. For his size, Khemji is amazingly fast, and gracefully avoids collisions with inanimate objects in his path, not to mention the feet of the estate staff.

  While this is all happening, Aeson leans in to me and says very quietly in my ear, “The place on my lap is free. . . . You can occupy it, instead of the cat. . . .”

  I turn to glance in his eyes, and the intimate look there makes me blush.

  For the next few minutes we continue eating in a relaxed friendly atmosphere, keeping the conversation light. Maybe if we smile and laugh enough, the reality of my grim situation could be forgotten for a little while—and it is.

  But eventually the eos bread is over, and it’s time to get back to work. The four daimon have their own business this afternoon, so they make arrangements to meet with me for training for the next several days, starting with Erita who will return to work with me on defense weapons tomorrow. The rest of the schedule will rotate Xel and Oalla every other day.

  “Today was just the beginning, Gwen. We’ll train you hard, and we’ll make you invincible,” Oalla tells me with a comforting nod, as they get up to go.

  “Thank you, im sen-i-senet,” Aeson says to them with a formal nod.

  My brothers and sisters, in Atlantean.

  “Thank you so much!” I add, watching them leave.

  “We should be getting back too,” Manala says, as soon as the others are gone. “But first, Khemji really needs to go outside, Aeson. Please?”

  Aeson chuckles.

  And so Hasmik and Manala and I put the body harness back on Khemji, and the three of us step outside into the invigorating, oxygen-abundant air and the sun-washed rich greenery of the estate gardens—Hasmik and I both wearing dark wraparound sunglasses, of course, with Aeson’s strict insistence—and with Manala holding the leash. Khemji manages to fall over only three times. . . .

  Aeson follows closely behind, and places his hand on my back, giving it a sensual caress that sends all kinds of wild currents racing through my body. I find that I’m so super-sensitized to his lightest touch now, that I tremble at the steady pressure of his fingers and flattened palm, the warmth of which I can feel through my t-shirt.

  “After this, we do weight training,” he tells me softly, as we stand and watch his sister and Hasmik fuss over the big black cat that immediately starts digging in the dirt.

  “Okay,” I say breathlessly, smiling up at him like the love-struck fool that I am. Good thing my embarrassingly mushy eyes are hidden behind these dark shades.

  When Khemji is done with his cat business, Aeson simply picks him up, with surprising ease, and carries him back to the hover car that’s waiting at the private landing airfield, next to a security detail car.

  Gennio’s already inside, ready to drive them back, having spent the last hour with the servants.

  “Why didn’t you come in to have eos bread with us, Rukkat?” Aeson says, peering inside the hovering vehicle, after securing the cat in a special seat harness.

  “My Imperial Lord, I was unsure how long the Imperial Princess would take, so then I got to eat in the staff quarters, thank you,” Gennio says politely, with a bow of his head.

  “All right. Take care of my sister and fly carefully.” Aeson nods at him casually.

  “Bye, Aeson! Bye, Gwen!” Manala says, from the inside, as she and Hasmik buckle in, then hold onto Khemji, who sticks his big head through the harness and just looks at us with his round golden eyes.

  Hasmik waves enthusiastically at me. “Gracie and the others will come tomorrow!” she reminds me yet again. Apparently my siblings and friends are taking care of various business matters today, and I will learn more about it later.

  The hover car starts up, and lifts soundlessly up beyond the trees, followed by the security vehicle. In seconds they disappear into the blazing white sky, blending with the other air traffic along the virtual lanes.

  Aeson and I return inside.

  The bulk of the morning and afternoon is spent back in the main dojo gym, training with weights. Aeson oversees me carefully, making sure I take frequent breaks. Even so, I find that I am completely exhausted after just a few minutes of each session—my muscles tremble uncontrollably with effort, I am pouring sweat, and hyperventilating.

  “That’s enough for today,” Aeson says to me at last, as I climb off the training bench and barely stand. The room seems to be swimming around me.

  In answer I only make an unintelligible sound, and wipe the back of my hand against my soaked face and forehead.

  Aeson puts his hands on my upper arms and squeezes gently, then sweeps his palms higher to press my shoulders.

  “I’m all sweaty and gross, sorry. . . . I need a shower,” I mumble, blinking in exhaustion, and looking up into his steady intense eyes.

  “Nothing wrong with sweat,” he replies, with a faint smile. “It means your body has worked hard. And it makes you . . . glisten.” And he reaches out to move moist strands of my hair that have come loose from my ponytail and are now stuck to my skin. He sweeps his fingers lightly, but then his palms flatten against my throat and start sliding down to my collarbone and chest. All the while, his gaze consumes me. . . . And now his smile has disappeared, replaced with focused intensity.

  At his touch and his look, I shiver. . . .

  And just this once in my life, despite being all sweaty and disgusting, and just a soggy tired mess, I also feel raw and beautiful.

  Aeson pulls me to him suddenly, and presses me, full-body, into a hard embrace. He does not move, does not attempt to kiss me, just crushes me to him. . . . He holds me against his body, while his arms go around me, and his strong hands slide lower, for the first time moving past the curve of my lower back and continuing lower yet, cupping my bottom.

  I make a surprised little sound, and at the same time hear his own breath shudder and catch sharply, as he continues holding me there and does not let go.

  And just like that, desire washes through me like a tidal wave. . . . My ears fill with a rush, my pulse starts thundering. . . . Honestly, I lose my mind.

  I wrap my arms around him, feeling his strong back with my hands, and squeeze him as hard as I can, holding on to him for dear life, wanting him as much against me as he does.

  We stand motionless for a few long seconds, our sweat mingling, soaking through our clothes, feeling our common body heat course back and forth between us, even with the barrier of clothing separating us—a strange, maddening bond.

  With my ear against his chest I hear his forceful breathing, his violent hea
rtbeat pounding in his chest. Such a contrast to our stilled, frozen embrace. . . . The realization of how much he wants to move, and how much he is holding back, comes to me powerfully.

  “Gwen . . .” he whispers. “I—I need to—”

  “I know,” I reply breathlessly, my fingers digging into his back. “Me too.”

  There’s no need for an explanation, we both know—our bodies know.

  With a shudder we come apart.

  It’s time for dea meal, so I grab a hot shower that soothes my aching muscles, not to mention my heated mind, while Aeson goes to change and cool down also. When I emerge from my bedroom, wearing a fresh set of clothes, squeaky clean and somewhat restored by the hot water, and find my way to the living room, I find Aeson. He is also nicely cleaned up, in a crisp dark shirt and pants, his golden hair still damp from the shower and falling in neat elegance behind him. And he’s talking on his wrist device to someone.

  His back is turned as he paces, speaking in a commanding tone in Atlanteo, while the estate servants are setting up our meal table and the dishes, discreetly keeping out of his way.

  From what I can understand, Aeson is talking to someone in the Imperial Executive Council, and I hear snatches of conversation: something about Earth, something about “tomorrow’s meeting,” something about “critical measures” and “the urgency of the impending situation.”

  My first instinct is to wonder if any of this has anything to do with my family back on Earth.

  “We’ll continue this conversation tomorrow morning,” Aeson concludes to whomever is on the other end. And then he ends the call and turns to me. Before his face relaxes into what I recognize to be a deceptively calm mask, I note a grim darkness in his expression.

  “Gwen,” he says. “Let’s eat.”

  “What was that about?” I ask, as we sit down at the cozy table and the servants begin to serve the dea meal. “Anything new about my parents?”

  Aeson gives me a steady, thoughtful look. “Not exactly. . . . I have to go back to the Palace early tomorrow, in order to attend a meeting of the Imperial Executive Council, in regard to some urgent matters. . . . The IEC is the ruling governing body of Atlantida, together with my Father.”