Page 17 of Star Prince

“Not entirely.” Rom’s tired smile was maddeningly enigmatic. Without further comment he waved toward an open set of double doors and led Gann through a vast chamber, where a floor of Siennan marble reflected lavish tapestries and pieces of furniture—all ancient and priceless—encircling a saltwater fountain stocked with rare sea creatures. Such grandeur was breathtaking to those viewing the palace for the first time, but such trappings of wealth and power did not intimidate Gann. He had grown up amid this wonderland. His father was a member of the previous king’s elite guard, as was his father’s father and the thousands of years of Truelénne men who came before him. The loyalty Gann felt for Rom and his family went beyond friendship, beyond the years they had served on the same starship during Rom’s exile. It was bred in his bones.

The men walked silently. Gann studied his uncharacteristically subdued friend, wondering suddenly if this mysterious summons translated to a family emergency. “How is Jas?”

Rom’s eyes lit up at the mention of his Earth-born wife. “Very well. She looks forward to seeing you. In fact, she’s chilling several bottles of Red Rocket Ale as we speak.”

Gann had hoped as much; he found the Earth beverage delicious. And he wasn’t alone. Beer wasswiftly becoming a sought-after libation across the galaxy, making Jas’s longtime friend, Dan Brady, creator of this royal favorite brand, one of Earth’s wealthiest businessmen.

Gann made another bid to determine the root of Rom’s concern. Rom was close to his children-by-marriage and treated them as if they were of his own blood. “Ian and Ilana—I trust they are well?”

“Yes.” Rom leveled him with a perceptive, if somewhat worried gaze. “All are healthy, thank the Great Mother. But you are correct in assuming the reason I brought you here is not aVash Nadahmatter. In fact, it’s quite personal. A predicament of lost and found, you might say.Found,I pray, with your help.”

A surge of anticipation quickened Gann’s pulse. Life had lacked a certain…sparksince he and Rom had parted ways upon his friend’s ascension to the galaxy’s throne. Whatever Rom required of him now, it was bound to be good and, he hoped, exactly what he needed to lift him from his doldrums of late. Though he couldn’t help wondering why a king with an immense army and security forces trained in covert operations at his disposal would need an aging warrior’s help.

His curiosity soared higher as he trailed Rom to where soft music emanated from a sitting area hidden behind a screen. Here the walls were whitewashed and plain, the tile floor strewn with cushions, all glowing in the light of Sienna’s threepockmarked moons framed in an enormous skylight. Mementos from Rom and Jas’s travels, along with framed holo-images of their families, graced shelves and ledges clearly installed for that purpose, making obvious the intimacy of the couple who lived there.

A stab of longing blindsided him as an image blossomed in his mind’s eye of a private retreat like this, shelves stacked with holo-images of a wife, children. He frowned, then cleared his throat. Family life was for other men; that was the way of it. Serving the B’kah was his calling, a choice he had made long ago, duty over personal wishes, if not consciously then by birth. Why, then, had regret tainted where only pride dwelled before?

Because the tedium of your life is chipping away at your sanity, that’s why.

Stiffly, he clasped his hands behind his back. It was blasted obvious that he needed this mission. Thisadventure.He hoped it was good.

“Gann!” A woman’s accented singsong voice mercifully dragged his thoughts outward.

Clutching three frosty bottles in her hands, Jas breezed into the room. Immediately her presence lifted his spirits; her energy and zest for life were contagious. She stretched up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek in the overt display of affection characteristic of Earth-dwellers, as her exotic black hair, common on her homeworld if nowhere else, swung over her shoulders.

He pressed one hand to her back and returnedthe kiss, on her cheek, Earth-style. Then she stepped back to gaze at him. Smooth and elegant in her simple white gown, she looked every inch Rom’s queen, though he knew she still flew as an active starpilot in Sienna’s space wing. “I bet you could use a beer,” she said.

He grimaced. “I could use ten.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling.” Delight shone in her eyes. The bottles were passed around, and conversation filled the cozy room. “Like old times,” Jas said after a bit, grinning up at him before exchanging a deeply affectionate glance with Rom.

When the couple’s eyes met, their smiles slowly faded.

Rom set his bottle on a nearby table. “It’s time I explained why I summoned you here.”

Gann dipped his head. “I await your orders.”

As custom dictated, the men waited until Jas sat before they, too, settled onto the carpet, arranging plump cushions for comfort. Gann leaned against his pillow and crossed one long, boot-clad leg over the other.

“Few know the frontier better than you,” Rom began. Gann’s muscles thrummed as they did during a rousing game of bajha, the sword game played to hone instinct and the senses and practiced in complete sensory deprivation. He had looked forward to a possible extended stay planetside, but running a personal mission for Rom, particularly in the remote and unpredictable frontier, sounded far more intriguing. “Out with it,B’kah. What particularly corrupt and misguided soul would you like me to apprehend? Or is it a cache of stolen personal objects that requires my expert interception?” Grinning eagerly, he tipped his bottle for a swig.

Jas sighed. “Our niece ran away. We’re sending you after her.”

Gann almost choked on his swallow of beer. Jas’s intense expression indicated she was not joking, and the expectancy bolstering him drained away. Valiantly he attempted to keep his disappointment from his voice. “I’m to fetch a runaway princess?”

“Yes. Tee’ah Dar, Joren and Di’s daughter. Joren thought—prayed—she was here.” She pressed her lips together. “If only she had come here...”

“Jas,” Rom said gently, taking her fingers in his.

Her voice was fervent and low. “She must have been so unhappy. I wish she had told me. I might have been able to help her, to intercede with her parents, to offer alternatives to…this.” She sighed. “I met Tee’ah right before the war, seven years ago, when Rom and I were living in the Dar palace. Unlike us, Joren and Di maintain the old traditions. They raised Tee’ah in seclusion.” She squeezed her husband’s hand. “Rom and I are working to change the customs that have outgrown their usefulness, like the ones keeping women like Tee’ah so isolated.”

“But all this must be done slowly,” Rom said. “Or we’ll aggravate the mistrust and resentment that isnot so well hidden by some members of the Great Council.”

Jas continued. “I kept in touch with Tee’ah, but only occasionally—via viewscreen, never in person. I gave her advice and encouragement, solicited or not, just as I do with my daughter Ilana. But there’s a huge cultural difference between a royalVashfemale confined to a palace and a career-minded young woman living in California, and I failed to account for that. I filled her head with ideas…with possibilities. Now she’s headed into danger she’s little prepared for. I can’t help feeling responsible.”

Gann set his empty bottle on the floor. With a silent sigh, he resigned himself to the nursemaid duty it seemed he was acquiring. What the B’kah asked of him, the B’kah received. Such was his duty, and honor allowed him no alternative. Moreover, he didn’t like the idea of an innocentVashprincess in the clutches of disreputable frontier primitives any more than her family did. “I only glimpsed her briefly—seven years ago. What does she look like now?”

Jas handed him a holo-image. The princess, a grown woman, gazed innocently back at him, her posture erect, her long red-gold hair woven ornately in the traditional way atop her head.

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