Lord Regret's Price: A Jane Austen Space Opera, Book 3 (14 page)

The Empress gave her a hard, brittle smile. “I don’t speak of just our dynasty, Lady Wyre, but all of Zijin. The dragon has always been a symbol of the Emperor, and our dragons are mystical, magical beasts. If he dies, I’m dreadfully assured that Zijin will fall, whether to internal strife, war against our greedy neighbors or your own Queen.”

Unfortunately, Charlotte couldn’t attempt to dissuade her about the Britannian threat, sick old dragon or not. “There is definitely danger on the Britannian front, but this poor beast has nothing to do with it.”

“It’s our belief, my lady. This dragon is magical, the heart and soul of Zijin. If he dies, so do we.”

Charlotte sighed. “Let me guess, you want me to try and heal it?”

“You are the legendary Lady Doctor Wyre, are you not?”

“I wouldn’t say legendary,” she grumbled, pulling a datapad out of her reticule.

After embellishing every story Gil knew about the indigenous tribes of Americus, he was more than ready to retire for the evening. Worry for Charlotte burned in the pit of his stomach, fed by strange foods and deceptively sweet wine. Yet every time he paused to catch his breath, the Emperor ordered another tale. Somehow he’d even unbuttoned the fancy linen shirt his lady had talked him into so that he could show off the scar that had so fascinated her their first night together.

Pretty soon he was going to run out of even made-up tales.

He paused again, his throat dry and raspy but the only drink before him was more wine. He’d accidentally on purpose spilled the last two glasses under the table. With danger lurking around every corner, he didn’t dare fog his brain with alcohol.

“Come,” the Emperor stood, tugging on his arm. “We have a secret to show you. You’ll love it.”

Gil allowed himself to be urged up out of the chair, but he deliberately swayed and slurred his voice. “Where are we going?”

The Emperor giggled like a little boy and definitely staggered out of the palace. Evidently he didn’t worry about too much alcohol inhibiting his mental faculties. “If Mother knew, she’d be furious.” He led the way to another chamber at the rear of the grand building. Although small, the room was just as luxurious as the public hall. None of the dozens of servants and ministers followed them, which sent a pulse of unease through Gil’s gut.

When the Emperor began disrobing, Gil looked about worriedly for the nearest exit. Or better yet, a witness.

“She’s always telling me ‘do this’, ‘do that’, ‘you must remember you’re the Emperor’. As if I could ever forget
that
. She won’t allow me to do anything I want. She had the audacity to contradict me before all my ministers, telling me I was…
wrong
.”

He dropped the priceless silk and ground it carelessly into the floor as he pulled the plain clothes of a dock worker out of a trunk.

Gil had the feeling he wasn’t going to like where this was headed. Not at all. Why would the Emperor need a disguise to walk about his own palace?

“I was tired of everyone dictating to me, especially the foreign merchants. So I kicked them out of Zijin.”

It took Gil a moment to track back through the conversation and figure out what the Emperor meant. “You barred the Britannian merchants from Hoeng Gong?”

The Emperor beamed at him. “I did. That was all my decision. Mother was so furious she embarrassed me before everyone, so that’s why I’ve been so cold to her. I warned her that I wearied of her constant demands and she’ll be moving to the Summer Palace on Bei-Jing as soon as your visit is over. I refuse to listen to her demands and arguments any longer.”

Interesting. Perhaps Cixi was the one who’d hired Sig, in order to have her own unruly and immature son assassinated. From all the rumors about the real power behind the throne—and his own experiences with powerful women—Gil wouldn’t put it past her.

“Uncle says it’s important that we have a finger on the pulse of the people,” the Emperor said. “He’s very wise, you know. If it wasn’t for Mother’s efforts, the Dragon Throne would have been his. Some days…”

He paused and for a moment Gil felt genuine sympathy for the young man. He’d been brought up in luxury, his every whim indulged as a young prince, and then thrust into a position of ultimate power at a very young age. He’d never had the opportunity to travel or meet regular, everyday people outside of his magnificent palace. He’d certainly never worked a single day in his life. He probably thought dressing himself was quite a feat.

“I wish I were Zaichun, the lovable and fun prince, and Uncle could be the dutiful Son of Heaven.” He sighed heavily while staring at the golden silk on the floor, but then his quicksilver mood changed to the laughing boy preparing to do something naughty. “When I’m outside, I can be Zaichun once more.”

“Outside…?” Gil was dreadfully certain he knew exactly where this was heading. The last thing he needed was to sneak out of Xuanyuan with the Emperor, who could be attacked and possibly killed, and they’d blame it all on him. Talk about an intergalactic incident.

Flashing a mischievous smile over his shoulder, the Emperor led the way into the next deserted chamber. Where the last room’s heavy silks and plump cushions spoke of casual wealth and decadence, this one was almost Spartan by comparison. No lounging chairs or cushions, no rich colors or carved woods, just a high table. The walls were a silver-gray, with no openings and no decorations. Stepping closer, Gil saw that electronic panels were embedded in the top of the table, the first overt technology he’d seen, other than the hovering levels.

The Emperor entered a few keystrokes and a door suddenly slid open where only a sleek gray wall had been just moments before. “This way.”

“Aren’t you going to take some bodyguards?”

He laughed again as they stepped through the door into a metallic tunnel. It was cold inside and their footsteps rang oddly in the silence. Bare industrial-looking lights stretched off in both directions. Elegantly drawn symbols were painted on the floor, but Gil couldn’t read their language. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to find his way back alone.

“We’re in a maintenance tunnel,” the Emperor replied. “No one comes in here other than the workers charged with keeping all the systems of Xuanyuan functioning seamlessly. The original Emperors didn’t like to see the technology everywhere. They thought it made them look less magical. So the tunnels hide the cables and computers used to keep the Forbidden City in the air. No one would ever expect the Emperor to tour these tunnels, so we’re perfectly safe.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes, while Gil tried to keep a mental tally of the lefts and rights. Luckily they didn’t make many turns before they exited at the docks where their party had arrived hours ago. The guards snapped to attention but didn’t say a word to stop them. They must be familiar with his disguise and this routine. “How often do you do this?”

“More and more lately,” the Emperor admitted. “Mother thought I was spending too much time with my Empress and so had us separated.”

“You’re married?” Gil couldn’t keep the shock out of his voice. “But you’re so young! Why didn’t we meet her this evening?”

“Mother hates her because she’s taking me away from her. Therefore Lady Alute has been banned to her palace on the fourth level and not even I am allowed access.” He laughed bitterly. “I’m the Son of Heaven but I’m not allowed to see my own wife whenever I wish. I have to follow a
schedule
. Now Mother has decreed that she doesn’t even exist and so when I ask to see her, the eunuchs stare at me blankly and offer to bring me one of my other consorts. They take
her
orders instead of mine.”

He slammed his fist against the wall with a ringing thud. “I don’t want the other consorts. I want the wife Ci’an helped me pick. I knew it was a mistake to show favor to her choice instead of Mother’s, but I tried to keep both happy. Instead, everyone’s unhappy, most of all me. The throne may be mine, but only because Mother put me there, and no one, least of all her, will ever let me forget it. I have no real power of my own. If I were older, or if I’d not been so sick as a child, and allowed to make a name for myself, then they might believe I could become a competent ruler. Instead, all they see is a weak, childish man ruled by his mother. Worse, they’re right.”

Unsure what to say to assuage the young man’s anger, Gil remained silent as they arrived at a small barge. It looked the same as the one in which they’d arrived. For all he knew, it was, or merely one of a countless fleet of Imperial boats. A man waited for them, bowing low and gesturing to the open door. They talked in their language briefly and the man bowed low again. Then they were seated and the man flew them out of the dock.

“I’m sick, you know.”

Gil jerked his attention back to the Emperor. This time, he made sure to belt himself in firmly so he wouldn’t end up on the floor again. “I’m terribly sorry, Your Majesty.”

“That’s why Mother wanted Lady Wyre to come to Xuanyuan. She hopes she may be able to help me since my own physicians have proven to be incompetent fools. It’s a tricky situation for her. She daren’t admit that I’m not well, yet she must if she’s to see me healed. Sometimes I think she honestly believes she can order me to be well and I will obey.”

“If anyone can help you it’s my lady.”

“You’ll speak to her for me? I can’t ask for her help directly or Mother will ban me to the fourth level and I won’t be able to escape like this, even for a little while. She can’t allow us to show any weakness.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. What are you symptoms, and I’ll pass them along to my lady discreetly.”

He dropped his head back against the paneled wall of the elegant ship. “Weariness. No energy. Weight loss, no matter how much I eat. I can eat so much my belly aches, but it doesn’t matter. I just keep losing weight and I’m weaker every day. My skin feels as thin as paper, light and unsubstantial. Some days I think I’ll just close my eyes and float away into the gray. It takes all my effort to hide how weak I truly am.”

Indeed, he seemed very different now from the laughing young man who’d plied him with wine and begged for another story. “I’m sure my lady can help.”

Straightening, the Emperor smiled slightly. “Half of me hopes she fails.”

Gil’s heart sank though he said nothing. It pained him to see such a young man so hopeless and unhappy, yet it seemed ridiculous at the same time for him to be so miserable when he had so much. He didn’t go hungry, he didn’t shiver in the cold with no clothing or home, he didn’t live in constant fear of being thrown in a dungeon. He didn’t slave for a meager wage, destroying his health for a few pennies to support his family. He could be so much worse off, yet anyone so deeply unhappy was poor, even if they were wealthy.

“Here we are,” the Emperor’s voice brightened, pulling Gil’s attention back to their little escapade outside the Forbidden City’s protective walls. At least listening to the Emperor’s symptoms made passage through the wormhole quicker. He only felt as though his head would explode, but at least he hadn’t thrown up the elaborate dinner. “I hope you enjoy my favorite pastime.”

They disembarked in what looked to be a warehouse district of Bei-Jing. The streets were littered with filth and crowded, even though it was night. The buildings stretched up story after story, stacked upon one another like a child’s building blocks, and often just as tilted, as though a stiff wind would send them all crashing down to crush the commoners below. “Well that depends, Your Majesty. Where are we?”

The Emperor grinned. “A brothel.”

Shaking his head, Gil followed him into the building.
This will be fun to explain to Charlotte. She might make me wear that cock ring nonstop.

Chapter Eleven

Sig had never had such difficulty finding his mark before. He still didn’t know whom he was to kill, let alone who’d hired him to do it.

After lurking in corners and wandering through the shadows of the various halls on this level, he finally gave up hope of running into a mysterious masked person with a note telling him the target. When he did encounter someone, they refused to speak to him. Some of the servants had actually run from him, like he was a Great White Terror come to destroy everything and everyone. He’d expected suspicious looks or even the threat of guards, not blank stares or simply flight.

It wasn’t like he could just come out and ask everyone he saw,
Are you the one who wants me to assassinate someone inside Xuanyuan?
If that didn’t cost him his head, it’d at least get him thrown out of the Forbidden City and barred for life. Even the
idea
of a threat to the Emperor could be a death sentence.

He found their rooms by listening to the constant tug of his heart. Held together by Lady Wyre’s dangerous technology, his heart always knew where she was. Galaxies could separate them and he was sure he could find her again. This close, he could practically feel her breathing inside his own body. He slipped into the chamber silently, not to hide from her, because that was impossible.

She felt him just as keenly.

However, her dark head was bent over her datapad, her fingers flying over commands, and though she lifted her head a moment in acknowledgment, he didn’t want to break her concentration. This was Charlie at her best and worst, wholly engrossed in deciphering some great mystery.

God help me when she finally decides to turn that full curiosity on to figuring out who I am.