The Savage King (20 page)

"Bye, Frank."

"Bye, kid."

Ulyssa turned off the communicator. She waited, unmoving, too afraid to look at Kirill.

Kirill scowled at Ulyssa's back, barely hearing the last of her words as she ended her communication. He felt like she'd kicked him in the gut. She was engaged! No matter that the man was a stranger to her. Why hadn't she told him? Was that the big secret she'd been keeping from him?

Something strange nagged at his brain about the conversation. It was something in her tone, a vibration he picked up on with his sensitive hearing. He sniffed the air, smelling her, pushing past the unique perfume of her body to dig deeper into what was happening. The jealousy left him and he smiled grimly. She was lying.

He didn't know what she was up to, but she definitely wasn't getting married. The grip over his heart released a fraction and he could again breathe. Keeping his voice stern, he ordered, "Come here."

"What?" Ulyssa's wide blue eyes turned to stare at him. Her lips trembled and she sucked it between her teeth to stop it.

"Come," he beckoned. "I want you to come to me."

"But," she frowned. "Didn't you hear what I just said? Aren't you?"

"What? Angry that you are engaged?" he questioned. He forced a light tone to his words as he shrugged. His dark gaze was steady as he looked directly at her. "Why should I be? I don't know the man. You obviously feel no loyalty to him for you have been with me."

"But--you're not...?" Her features fell. Her eyes moved to the floor, but not before roaming down his graceful body. She turned her back on him so he couldn't see the sudden tears in her eyes, the pain crushing her from the inside. He wasn't jealous at all. He didn't care. He didn't care. Nothing between them mattered to him. She was just a diversion. She was ... Ulyssa's heart stopped. She was a King's whore.

"Lyssa," he began. "I would remind you that you promised to stay three months in my home. Just because your ride comes early, doesn't mean you can get out of our bargain."

Ulyssa's stomach lurched. She didn't hear him over the strange buzzing in her ears. Her hand flew to her mouth and she ran for the bathroom. Seeing the toilet, she fell to her knees and threw up into the stone bowl.

Kirill rushed in behind her, helpless as he watched. Worry strained his brow. His hand reached to touch her but he held back, unsure how to give her comfort, unsure if it would be welcome. He knew she lied, but he didn't know why. It might just have been a way to let him know she wasn't interested. Had too many of his feelings shown the last time they were together in the office? He'd been trying hard to fight it. He'd been trying to let her go. Was the lie her way of telling him she didn't want him? Slowly, he took a step back. But he couldn't bring himself to leave--not until he knew she was all right.

"Lyssa?" he asked, the word a mere whisper.

"Don't," she mumbled, gasping for breath as the sickness subsided. Her heart couldn't take being near him at the moment. She choked back tears under the guise of panting. Her words a trembling whisper, she said, "Don't watch this. Just ... go away. I'll be fine. Humans get this stomach flu sometimes. It'll pass, but it's contagious. Just go away, my lord. I don't want you to get sick. I don't know how your body will react to this sickness. I know what I need and I can take care of myself."

"Are you sure? I can send a medic," he offered. His voice was tight, strained with worry but she didn't notice. She was too miserable.

"Yeah, I'm sure," she answered, reaching to pull the cord to flush so she didn't have to look at the vomit.

"How ... where does it come from?" Kirill was still loath to leave her.

"It just does. I haven't been eating right. I've been ... preoccupied. My body just needs to reboot." Ulyssa felt a wave of nausea coming to her again. Hearing his voice was pure hell. She needed him to go. Waving weakly behind her, she ordered, "Go. Get out! I don't want you watching me."

"Siren," Kirill said, so Ulyssa could hear him.

"Yes, my lord," the computer answered.

"If Lyssa has need of me, she has permission to summon me to her or to come find me."

"Yes, my lord," Siren said.

"I won't need you," Ulyssa mumbled bitterly. She pushed to her feet. Kirill watched her stumble across his home. She didn't even look at him. "All I need is sleep. You'd better get out of here. This can get pretty ugly."

Ulyssa knew she was lying. She wasn't sick with the flu, but she desperately wanted to lie down and wallow in self-pity. She wanted to curl into a little ball and sleep, to forget her assignment, to forget the biological weapons and the Medical Mafia, but most of all she wanted to forget King Kirill.

* * * *

"Siren, monitor Lyssa's life functions. Alert me if there is danger to her." Kirill said once he was out of the house. It was almost time to dine and he decided to make an appearance in the banquet hall. He'd been spending his evening meals with Ulyssa and he knew that was one source of the rumors about his over-attentiveness to his mistress. He was about due for a public appearance and now would be as good a time as any. It wasn't like he could go back home.

The banquet hall was filled and Kirill stopped to make small talk with the soldiers as he worked his way to the head table. Reid, Quinn, and Falke were already seated when he arrived and they nodded to him in greeting. Before he even made it to his seat, servants brought out a plate of food and a goblet of wine for him.

Kirill took his seat amongst his brothers. As he picked up his goblet, a hush fell over the hall. Kirill looked up. Taura was waving for silence. Linzi stood next to her. Slowly, the two women came forward.

"My King," Taura said, with a very dignified curtsey. She was a tall, stately woman with long willowy limbs--very characteristic of her Roane heritage. Her gown of gold shimmered as she walked. Her long, golden brown hair shone in waves down her back, mimicked by the hazel-gold of her almond shaped eyes. She was a beautiful woman and all could instantly see why Attor had chosen her as his first half-mate.

"Lady Taura, you grace us with your presence," Kirill answered, honoring her. They all teased Falke about his mother, but the truth was growing up she had been a mother to them all--especially when their own birth mothers had died.

"My King, Linzi has served her month in exile. I bring her before you now seeking absolution from her misconduct." Taura motioned to the dark temptress at her side. Linzi's gaze shyly met the Kings before turning to the floor.

"Granted," Kirill answered. He knew that her exile wasn't her fault. Neither one of them had any way of knowing that Ulyssa proclaimed herself his woman. He stood and motioned to his side. "Please, join the table so all can see that you are absolved."

"Thank you, my King," Linzi curtseyed. Taura led her around the table. Servants came forward to move the Princes' plates over to make room. Taura sat between Kirill and Falke. Linzi took her place at Kirill's other side next to Quinn. She shot the King a small smile and said nothing as a plate of food was set before her. She ate in silence.

Kirill studied Linzi her from the corner of his eye. She was a beautiful woman, but he found he wasn't interested. Turning back, he ate, ignoring the women as he thought of Ulyssa in his home, alone and sick. More than anything, he wanted to go back to comfort her.

* * * *

Ulyssa cried herself to sleep, not the wretched sobs she felt inside, but the silent unmoving tears of someone who locked their feelings within. When she awoke, the nausea of a broken heart was gone, but a passionless sense of duty replaced it leaving her numb.

She had no future with Kirill. She'd known it from the beginning. It was her fault for allowing herself to get so comfortable in his home. His family--something she'd never had--had drawn her in. Sure, they were only brothers, but they had taken to her--Falke by training her, Quinn by their walks and conversations, and Reid by his warm home and shared memories of the Var Princes' childhood.

Her memories were of school and the orphanage. Her childhood was a cot in the middle of a long hall, surrounded by the cots of other orphaned children. Her first happy memory was that proud day she finally got her own room at the Agency and didn't have to share it with a hundred other children, or when she got to take a particle bath and change in privacy. Her childhood didn't allow for modesty, for a sense of belonging. She had been a number--child 71577.

At the Agency, she'd been given a sense of purpose. It was a job in which her self-reliance came in handy. She was a survivor. That's what her folder said. Ulyssa Payne, survivor. She still wasn't sure what that meant, except that she was tough and could get through anything. With the Agency she got to travel. She got to make a difference. She didn't have to share anything. The only drawback was she was still a number--Agent 596.

"I can get through anything," Ulyssa said to herself, pushing from the bed with renewed purpose. "And I can get through this. I will get through this. It's just another assignment. Another day, another space credit in my bank account."

She stalked to the closet to change. Sliding on her pants and shirt, she went to the bathroom to clean her teeth with the handheld mouth sanitizer. Next, she pulled her hair back into a bun to get it out of her face. Satisfied that she looked ready to work, she said, "Siren, tell me where to find King Kirill."

* * * *

Ulyssa followed Siren's directions through the maze halls until she heard the loud murmur of a crowd. It only took a second for her to realize the hall was gathered together to dine. The clink of utensils on plates was unmistakable. Ulyssa slowed as she neared the opened hall doors. She'd never been to this part of the castle. Slowly, she came to the narrow slit that edged along the side, between the door and wall, where she could see into the hall without being seen.

Looking in over the banquet hall of soldiers, she craned her neck searching for Kirill. It didn't take her long to find him at the seat of honor at the head table. She froze, her breath sticking in her throat. Unable to move, she saw Kirill next to the dark woman, Linzi. His rich laughter rang over the hall at something she said, pouring down over Ulyssa like a rain cloud to further dampen her soul.

Ulyssa's lips trembled. She imagined there'd be invitation in Kirill's dark eyes when he gazed at the woman--the way he looked when he wanted her. Kirill had never taken her to this hall. He'd never even asked if she'd like to go and here he was sitting and laughing with another woman for all to see. It was too much. Breathing heavily, she covered her mouth and forced down a wave of nausea. In public he always acted ashamed of her, like she was a humiliation.

Ulyssa looked down at her body and for the first time she felt the oppression of feminine doubt. Was she so misshapen? Was she ... ugly? Fat? Frowning, she poked at the slight roundness her stomach. She had been lax in her training, but she hadn't necessarily been eating more. There wasn't so big a change as to make a difference in her overall appearance. Maybe it was her hair. Kirill often started at it. Perhaps it was an odd color for their kind. Maybe he thought it was ugly.

Hearing footsteps, she backtracked and slipped into a little inlet to hide. Two guards walked by, but she was too preoccupied to hear what they said. Then, as she watched, one turned to the wall and pressed his fingers to the circular pattern. Automatically, her eyes memorized the sequence. The wall opened and the guard pressed his hand to the screen that showed, not stopping in his conversation.

Vaguely, she heard Siren's voice say, "Trillon, off duty."

The guards kept talking as they walked away, one mentioning he was going home. The wall closed. Looking around, Ulyssa snuck forward and pressed the same sequence. The wall shifted and opened. She glanced around before reaching in to the computer. She was familiar with the system. It was an older mainframe, but one she could easily hack if she had the right codes. Typing with a fury, she skirted around the computer's basic security protocols, using the programmer's back door. Then, finding her name on a security list, she simply deleted it. Removing her hand as she heard more footsteps, she ran back to her inlet. The computer wall didn't close.

She held her breath and watched as a guard walked by, heading in the same direction as the others. He stopped and glanced around when he saw the open wall. Then, cursing his fellow Var for their laziness, he reached in and pressed a button. The wall slid shut and he moved on.

Ulyssa relaxed. She clung to the numbness she awoke with. Telling herself it was a good thing she'd seen Kirill and Linzi together, she burned the image in her mind. It would keep her strong. Taking a deep breath, and hoping the reprogramming worked, she jogged down the hall in the same direction as the guards. After a minute of searching, she got lucky and found the front entrance to the palace.

Being as Siren has sensors within the palace, there were no guards at the front entrance. Taking a deep breath, she walked through the gate. No alarm sounded. She was free.

The Var city outside the palace was a bustling maze of earthen streets and large rectangular home, whose walls and foundation were constructed of fired bricks held together by mortar. Many of the homes were two stories high with flat roofs. The grand design indicated that most of the Var population prospered.

Ulyssa saw a few people walking along the top of their houses. For the most part, they didn't even glance in her direction as she passed. There weren't many windows that she could see, but that served to her advantage as she slipped further away from the palace.

A few of the homes had a courtyard where she could hear the sound of young boys playing. Clay pots set outside doorsteps, some with flowers and other native plants. The streets were clean and orderly. Beautiful woven rugs hung outside in the sun, drying on lines. There was less intricate tile work than inside the palace, but the city was lovely nonetheless.

Thinking of the Var palace, Ulyssa glanced back over her shoulder and gasped. It stood tall against the blue-green sky. Square turrets reached high into the heavens, commanding the heavens over the city. It was magnificent. Her gaze automatically roamed, trying to detect which part would have been Kirill's home. Realizing what she was doing, she stiffened, turned her back, and didn't look at it again.