Queen of the Stars (The Royals of Adriel Book 1) Page 5

  Glover went off and soon returned with the spirit, which was Kalcoonian blue liquor called ‘tamfonite’. Nicks took up the decanter and poured out a glass, and he pleasantly asked, “Perhaps the princess would care to join us? After all, we did save you from marrying a smut.”

  Although escaping wedlock was a bright spot in all this—and yes, she privately agreed that Taylor Gray was a smut—she only glared. He grinned sardonically and then his lips pursed, his loathing for her clear in his eyes. Caught in a stare down, the hair at the back of her nape began bristling, reminding her of her mortality …

  Clearly, he would just as soon strangle her as look at her! What had she ever done to cause such hatred? She had done nothing—he simply was evil and she was good. A surge of abhorrence rushed through her breast, but she vehemently kept her gaze on his. She didn’t want to die just yet, but vowed that she would rather die than let this lowly man achieve whatever it was that he wanted from her ransom.

  His straight white teeth flashed. “No? You’re off to your quarters, then. Smith … ”

  Nicks motioned at Smith, the brown-haired crewman who was in charge of her care, and he came near and grasped her arm to escort her. Outraged by his tainting touch, Sarra shoved his hand away. She rose and kept her chin high while she followed him from the bridge, down the passageway to her royal cabin. The door quickly slid apart. She glowered at his smirking brown eyes and moved into the room, whirling as the door glided shut. She opened the door again, and her suspicion was confirmed when she saw him standing guard on the outside. This was to be her prison cell.

  She gave to him a contemptuous hiss and moved away from the door, closing it. Now alone, she allowed the tremors to ripple through her. She let herself react to the overwhelming events, feeling the impact of her helplessness, of her fears. She went to the port, but the sight of the endless stars gave her no comfort.

  Leaning her brow against the port, she shut her eyes tightly. An image of her father’s worried face came to her inner vision. She prayed that she could somehow reach him with the power of her mind.

  “Father! Hear me! I am unharmed. You be safe. Please!”

  She straightened, and moved aimlessly about the luxurious chamber, trying to think of a way to escape. She could think of nothing but the omen she had seen in the commander’s green eyes.

  That one, above all the others, was the one to fear.

  Sarra sat on the bunk, placed her palms on her face, and cried.

  ***

  Alma hid behind the window’s protection, watching the multitude threatening the palace’s main gates. Rumors of a royal assassination had filled every ear. The throngs had long since gathered at the estate’s borders, shouting and chanting in their unrest.

  Her tears had dried tightly on her weathered cheeks. She was afraid for the beloved princess and for what her abduction would do to the king. The passing of the hours had drained her of her emotions, leaving her with nothing but despair.

  King Ellis was on his feet, robust in his panic and rage. He ruled like he did before his illness had weakened him, snapping his commands to his men.

  An advisor warned, “A riot is imminent, Your Majesty! Your subjects want answers and I can’t hold them any longer! What shall I tell them?”

  Ellis paused from his pacing to roar from his bellows. “Tell them the truth! We’ll catch her kidnappers and feed them to the masses!”

  The man bowed and left for his duty. The highly agitated monarch went to stand near one of the four lidarscopes, carefully keeping watch over the technicians who studied the codes and gold blips that infiltrated the round green monitors. As the computers replayed the USFC’s recording of the Revolutionaries’ escape, the team searched for any clue they might have missed, for anything that would help them find Princess Sarra.

  Ellis had been appalled to learn that the rebels were much more intelligent than his advisors had thought. His throat tightened while he listened to the recording again, to his daughter’s voice as she bravely spoke about the rendezvous, perhaps suspecting that the ship’s comm was on. But, her abductors had wanted their words heard. A FAS pilot discovered the rebels’ trickery, avoiding the laser bolts and getting close enough to see the buoy that emitted an illusion of a disabled ship. A squadron then concentrated on the Vincula Sector, searching for the ship’s royal signature code; it had been another clever trick. The revolutionists succeeded with their true plan, simply escaping off into deep space.

  The man who monitored telecommunications said, “No word of the Revolutionaries’ demands yet, Your Majesty.”

  “They will come. Keep listening!”

  Ellis clenched and unclenched his fists. No one had truly believed that the barbaric clan would be so bold to abduct the princess royal. His precious child was in the hands of assassins! Yet, he knew that they would hold her hostage. If they had wanted her life, they could have taken it with how easily they had penetrated the palace. He would get his Sarra back—his FAS squadrons were searching everywhere. All branches of the USFC had been informed immediately, and the entire Urania Solar System, military and civilian, would help find her. If not because of loyalty, because of the riches the safe return of Her Royal Highness The Princess Sarra would bring.

  Lord Taylor Gray, who sat fidgeting in a chair in the corner, leapt onto his feet, unable to contain a flare-up of rage. “How dare they! Those smuts—they stole my bride! My wedding night!” he whined.

  Ellis’ jaw snapped together twice before he could find his voice. “Guards—take him from my sight!” he roared, pointing a damning finger at his future son-in-law.

  “What?” Taylor whispered, quite bewildered as the two stern soldiers each grabbed one of his arms, hustling him from the room. “Wh—what did I do?”

  With thunder on his brow the king moved to the window and surveyed the distant throng. He felt the gentle touch on his back and turned toward Alma. The woman failed in her noble attempt to show reassurance in her tearful eyes. He took her arm in his and patted her hand, fighting back his own emotion.

  They both stood there quietly, knowing mutual vows: ‘If the Revolutionaries harmed but a hair on beloved Sarra’s head, they would know torture before death.’

  “And,” he muttered while he peered up at the vast twilight sky, “they will know death.”

  ***

  Sarra’s dark-blue eyes stared unseeing at the distant glowing stars. For hours she had sat in the chair by the port, watching while the craft sped like lightning within the infinite, slowly changing heavens. She had always wanted to explore space—but not like this.

  She couldn’t even try to escape until her abductors docked at their mysterious destination. This was a Class Elite-A ship, or CE-A, and twice before she’d been on board it with her father. She knew the controls well enough but couldn’t pilot it alone; it required more than two hands. A CE-A is a common luxury cruiser, having seven large cabins, and this one had been designed for her comfort if ever she needed to flee from danger. How ironic that the assassins had the helm.

  She did have an idea that came to her while she had rested, but she had little hope in enacting it being locked up here. If she could get at a computer panel on the bridge and send out a transmission, someone would decipher her message and know the vicinity in which to find her. But, if caught in the act she’d surely be punished—or even killed.

  Wearily Sarra shut her eyes, concentrating on finding a way to overpower the dangerous men. She kept seeing images of their commander’s threatening face.

  Startled when the door slid open, she jumped up. Hastings entered and laid a tray down on the table before her. She acknowledged him with a lift of her nose and turned to the sky.

  “You seem to think that my hands are dirt,” he uttered, offended. “You had best eat this and not waste fine cuisine like you did this afternoon.”

  Sarra remained silent. She would not do this man the honor of her voice.

  “It’s your choice. But you’ll be awfully hungr
y before we get to Myrrh, Your Highness.”

  After he left, a smile spread slowly across her crimson lips. “Myrrh!”

  Adriel and Myrrh were close allies. Not only were the two worlds like twins, both sharing the same solar orbit on a parallel plane, their governments were in harmony together. On the average the trip takes almost two days since a spacecraft must avoid the intense solar radiation winds by taking a wide arc around to the other side of the sun. Surely the news of her abduction had already reached there because any transmission would travel faster than this ship, at the speed of light. She with her fair skin would stand out on a planet where most of the colonists were of a darker complexion, of Arabian descent. The people would help her—she’d be free!

  Discovering a ravenous appetite, she took a bite of her sweetflower salad and found it perfect on her tongue.

  “Perhaps everything will be all right, after all.”

  ***

  Sarra floated in the languorous place between sleep and awareness. Her arms were wrapped around the soft pillow but in her dream she glided within the stars, peacefully … One sun was set apart from the others, blazing upon her eyelids, prompting her to wake—

  “What?” she gasped and bolted up.

  Her gaze fleeted to the dim light in the ceiling and dropped to the corner chair where a presence sat, cloaked in shadows.

  “The princess awakes,” the rich voice mocked. “And what—without the kiss of her prince?”

  Her pulse swept into a fast motion as the man became a tall silhouette.

  “Perchance Lord Gray is within another woman’s arms this moment but is sending his amour to you?”

  The commander came into sight and Sarra lost her breath. As his brilliant green eyes struck her, she fell back and turned her face away. She couldn’t move, feeling the heat that passed from his weighty stare onto her flushed skin. Fearing the sight she presented, her throat grew tighter. She wished that she hadn’t changed into the nightgown she had found in her wardrobe. She was utterly defenseless with her hair all tousled about her arms and waist, her breasts straining against her gown, the pink satin tangled and twisted around her hips and thighs, giving him an ample view of her calves.

  He chuckled, coldly. “To rape the Princess Royal of Adriel. The king would surely have more than my head. Sit up!” he snapped. “For you are tempting.”

  She did, shivering violently. She privately commanded her tremors to quit, but her limbs wouldn’t obey.

  He sauntered over to the table and spilled a draught of blue liquor into his glass. She was dismayed to discover that he had been watching her quite some time, for the decanter had been full when she had last seen it and now was half-empty. He filled another small goblet and moved near. When she didn’t take his offering, he pushed it into her hand. Her fingers tingled from the brief contact of his touch.

  “Join me,” he quietly prompted. He lifted his glass in a stiff toast and then downed the contents.

  Because she feared that her trembling would cause her further embarrassment, she complied and gasped as the fiery spirit slid down her throat. She coughed and choked and he lifted a golden brow as if patiently waiting to see if she would continue to live. She finally regained her composure, her cheeks burning in her chagrin.

  Silence fell over the cabin, making her tension even more unbearable. He loomed above her menacingly and she fought off an overwhelming desire to cringe. Bravely she met his eyes and tried to glare regally. He ignored her hostility while his gaze traveled from her head to her toes in a rude, leisurely motion. She desperately wished that she could be unaffected, but his scrutiny brought a feeling not unlike anticipation. He looked genteel with his straight blond brows and piercing green eyes, his cheekbones wide and high and his lips firm and yet sensual. It was the threat of his savagery—the darkness of his demeanor that made her heart beat furiously. He contemplated her expression, his intensity growing. She didn’t know what he saw on her face but hoped that it was the fearless courage she was striving so hard to present.

  Suddenly he turned and moved to the table. He took a dark bundle of cloth from it and came near to drop it in her lap.

  “Put this on,” he commanded.

  Sarra swallowed nervously and fidgeted with the soft material. “But I have a wardrobe on board,” she managed to protest.

  “I don’t care. Wear this.”

  Meekly, she slid onto her unsteady legs and hurried toward the bath.

  “You’ve time to bathe before we reach Myrrh. And pin up your hair. Call if you need my help.”

  She glanced back to see him close one eye in a wicked wink. She slipped through the doorway and flicked the lock, his laughter echoing beyond.

  Sarra dropped the bundle onto the vanity and leaned upon its edge, her head bent and her palms supporting her weight as the adrenaline flowed like hot sparks within her belly. Now that she could breathe again, she couldn’t get enough air. She looked at the mirror and saw the fear in her wide dark-blue eyes, the quivering of her bottom lip and the blush in her high cheeks. She considered the whirlpool bath and shook her head. After almost two days in captivity, she longed to bathe, but only a door protected her from that man.

  She opened the bag and found a masculine shirt, a pair of leggings, and boots within. Although the clothes were clean, she grimaced, for their black color was the same as what her abductors wore, what she was discovering was the Revolutionaries’ colors. She resigned herself to her humiliation, suspecting that if she didn’t obey him there would be dire consequences. With a sigh she disrobed and saw her reflection.

  Sarra sensed that she wasn’t the only one who glimpsed her nakedness. Although she was alone, she felt like he watched her—not physically, but in his mind’s eye he lustily appreciated how her soft golden hair flowed across her full breasts and down her flat waist, the tresses touching her gently rounded hips. Bewildered, she tightly folded her arms.

  “That’s foolish!” she whispered, but snatched the shirt and hurried into it, shielding herself from his invisible eyes.

  The manly raiment—surprisingly—fit her quite well. The leggings and long-sleeved shirt hugged her snugly, down to the mid-calf boots. She found her hairpins in the vanity drawer and worked her tresses into a coil at her nape. She critically inspected her appearance, concluding that she looked ridiculous, looking like a rebel.

  Stiffly she sat down in the chair, trying to get a grip on her decorum. When the buzzing came at the door, she jumped up, wishing that there were a place to hide.

  “Princess,” Nicks warned. “Are you going to make me come in there and get you?”

  Sarra scowled, ashamed of her cowardice. Above all, she must retain her dignity.

  She opened the door and he was there, so close that she could feel his heat. His eyes grew warmer while they ravished her, and when he noticed the clothing he arched a brow, silently amused.

  “Wh—where are you taking me?” she breathed, amazed that her voice could sound so little.

  “You’ll have answers soon enough.”

  She was powerless as he caught her wrist and made her follow. He paused to take a simple black cap off the table and she flinched having it thrust onto her head. His large hand pushed at her back, guiding her from the room, and with his disturbing presence behind her, she hastened up the passageway.

  On the bridge, he thrust her down into a seat and strapped her in. Her gaze followed his swagger as he moved to inspect an automated control panel and then disappeared into the command chair. She scarcely noticed that Smith sat down beside her to keep watch over her, or that the rest were having a merry time laughing at her for wearing their colors.

  When she saw the large port, she was struck with awe. Planet Myrrh was becoming larger with every passing moment. The beautiful blue-green orb gleamed against the dark of space, illuminated by the sunlight. Mist began to softly strike the ship as it entered the turbulent atmosphere.

  Sarra shut her eyes, hearing Nicks confidently relaying his
orders, preparing to land. She was certain that the hours ahead would be the ultimate test of her spirit, the challenge of her lifetime. She must be strong if she were to survive.

  The vow came so passionately that she murmured it aloud.

  “I’ll escape—or die trying.”

  Chapter 5

  Myrrh was a sight every living thing should behold. Sarra remembered when she had been here before, under less dire circumstances. This was a planet rich in beauty, one that proudly spread out its majestic mountains and rolling verdant valleys, the ancient meteorite crevasses and rain forests, and the vast crystal-green seas that ruled this wilderness orb. The meadows sported flowers of every breed and color, flooding the land with paradise. The air itself was an experience, for the blue sky was filled with a spicy fragrance, a unique scent that inspired the world’s name. This wonder would idly roam the countryside, breezing into the villages where the inhabitants often marvel at the feel of the invisible silk softly touching the skin.

  One such lucky city was Aladdin, the most populous on the continent of Nefer. Just as the Earthian tale, Aladdin was mystical, a place where even the most fantastic dreams were said to have come true. With its elaborate structures that were round like cones, and the artistic architecture, it had a blend of medieval cultures but with all the newest conveniences. One had little need for technology, for being surrounded by nature, by the warm blooms and lush, white and green trana trees, perhaps all that was needed to live was the air.

  Sarra, however, could scarcely breathe, forced to stumble on ahead of her captors down the long corridor. Her surroundings didn’t concern her now, for she only cared about her own survival. The Revolutionaries had landed the stolen craft on Myrrh with no problems. The USFC directed thousands of starships every day and obviously didn’t suspect the new signature code, since the ship, no doubt, posed as another licensed and respectable one that was out in deep space. They had docked in a private landing bay on the outskirts of Aladdin. She glanced out the hall’s window, at the ivory and gold cones that were tiny in the distance. If she could find a way to escape to the city, she would run to King Erasmus, the ruler of Nefer, and his protection would keep her safe.