Lord Regret's Price: A Jane Austen Space Opera, Book 3 (29 page)

More likely, the Queen wanted to keep everyone alive in case she needed to torture a few hostages in hopes of luring her back to protect her family. “I can sincerely thank you for that, Your Majesty. Samantha would have done a wretched job as Duchess. She’s too rigid and stuffy by far, and in her jealous rage she would have razed Wyreton to the ground just to spite me.”

“She always hated you,” Majel agreed. “Now. Are we agreed that you’re coming home at last?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Charlotte noted that the circle of Ravens had begun to tighten. Her pulse fluttered frantically, her palms dampening. She even allowed anxiety to widen her eyes and visibly quicken her breathing. It was important for everyone to believe she was frightened. Trapped. Alone. All dreadfully true for the moment.

Only she could feel the frenzied pulse of technology in her body, heightening her senses and promising the assistance of not one or two but three men determined to come to her aid. She didn’t look again, but she was sure Prince Gong had joined Sig and Gil’s efforts to break through the Ravens.

Without lazors, there was very little they could do to cut through their lines. All they did was risk their own lives. But if she delayed long enough, the shield would come down to give her access to the waiting ship.

Silently, she tried to communicate with them through her nanobots, even if she wasn’t sure how they could possibly relay such messages.
Protect yourselves and be ready to take cover. Soon!

“My lady, surely you’re not considering this,” the Emperor said, his pale face streaked with sweat. “If you need a way out of Zijin, I can promise you safe passage.”

His breathing was short and rapid, his hands shaking. Anxiety worsened his condition, and the doctor in her insisted his mysterious illness had taken a sharp turn for the worse. If she had time, she’d run some tests on the alien DNA he carried. She guessed that he suffered from an unknown deficiency thanks to the dragon heritage, just as the egg itself needed the alien proteins in the Imperial blood to hatch.

Weak and clammy, he wasn’t going to survive much longer, despite whatever deal the Dowager Empresses managed to eke out with Britannia.

“Shut up,” Ci’an hissed, even tugging on the long, full sleeve of his ceremonial robe. “She’s nothing to us.”

“I read Prince Gong’s full report,” he retorted, jerking his arm away, but so weakly that Ci’an still gripped the silk. “She’s been of great aid to us and all we’ve done is pay her back with attempted assassinations and betrayal. Without her—”

“Nonsense,” Cixi interrupted, hopefully to silence her son before he revealed too much about the private security work Charlotte had managed to do for them. “You’ve heard the Queen. She has nothing to fear. Nothing at all. Isn’t that right, Your Majesty?”

Majel’s hard smile slowly faded to the heavy-eyed glare that usually preceded someone’s head being separated from their body. But she remained silent, waiting for Charlotte’s answer.

In a soft voice, she said, “Her Majesty never promised there was nothing to fear. Far from it.”

“Bring her to me,” Queen Majel ordered. The Ravens began closing faster. Overhead, the ship engine’s roared, causing wind to rush and swirl the ladies’ skirts so that it was difficult to stand, even shielded by the pavilion. Cixi clutched at Ci’an, both of them screaming. The dome was down.

A platform descended just off the pavilion, connected to the ship by heavy chains. If they succeeded in dragging her onto that ship, she’d never see Sig and Gil again.

The men who’d been locked outside of the dome broke through the Ravens and ran toward the pavilion. Prince Gong headed straight for his nephew, a knife in one hand and a sword in the other. Gil limped, clutching his ribs, his lip bleeding and his left eye almost swollen shut. But he’d made good use of the jewelry she’d given him. Both sets of brass knuckles were stained with blood.

Sig, where are you?

She could feel him close, but the nanobots were so chaotic she couldn’t discern a direction.

“Hurry, Wyre. Get on the ship before we lose you entirely.”

Charlotte faced the holograph. “You never had me, Your Majesty.”

“Don’t be a fool. Lord Regret is still out there and he’s Queen’s Scorpion. He’s mine to command. If you don’t come willingly…”

Charlotte let out a derisive laugh. “An empty threat, Your Majesty. Sig would never hurt me.”

“Henry Sigmund Tudor will kill you this very moment if I order it.” The words rang louder, cutting through the shouts and the ship’s engines to ensure everyone—especially Sig—heard the Queen’s words. “I know his price. Only I can give it to him.”

Hearing his true name out loud was strange, but it didn’t horrify or shock her as the Queen had hoped. Raising her voice to match Majel’s, Charlotte called out, “The Duchess of Wyre loves His Royal Highness the Prince of Tudor and he loves me. He will never hurt me, let alone kill me.”

“You can’t control him. You certainly can’t trust him. Never fully.”

“Yes I can, and I do.”

Finally, she saw him, plunging over and through the Ravens just paces away, floating with flying leaps as the ninjas had done. He vaulted over the railing, landing softly and lightly on his feet like a cat, and with another soaring leap he was beside her, dragging her tightly to him as though he could pull her inside his body and shield her with his own bone and sinew.

Another scream, lower and somehow more terrible than the others before, made her turn. Ci’an fell to her knees, sobbing, and Cixi covered her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears, but she made no sound. They both stared at their son, who gripped an ornate knife in his hand. Blood poured from his slashed wrist and he staggered over to the egg. His knees weakened and he started to fall, but Prince Gong caught him, slowly lowering him to lie against the pedestal.

“Zijin shall have its dragon,” the Tongzhi Emperor whispered, fighting to draw breath. “The throne is yours, Uncle.”

“Oh, Zaichun,” Prince Gong whispered, his voice trembling with anguish. “I cannot do what you ask. Please, don’t do this to me. All of Zijin needs you!”

The young Emperor’s eyes fluttered. He clutched at the egg. “Please, little dragon. Let me see you before I die.”

As Charlotte lifted the scanner, the shell began to shimmer, pure golden light streaming through cracks crisscrossing the surface. It burned brighter, until it was painful to focus on the blazing egg, so she almost missed the pop and burst of liquid fire as the dragon hatched.

The small creature hung in the air, as transparent as Majel’s holographic image. The ghostly, winged shape hovered over the shattered shell, shining as brightly as the sun, illuminating the Emperor’s face. Then it launched over his shoulder at Prince Gong.

He recoiled, stumbling backward to fall on the floor, but the dragon had latched on to his face, tiny wings beating the air silently, claws buried in his skin. He screamed with pain, his skin burning with the creature’s energy, and it took advantage of his open mouth to burrow deeply into his body. He convulsed, his heels drumming on the floor.

Charlotte leapt free of Sig’s protective embrace and went to the prince’s aid. She scanned him, trying to pinpoint the creature’s location. If she could locate its target, then perhaps she could inject him with a paralytic, something that would trap the dragon until she could remove it.

But the creature had already melted into his body. It was like it had dissolved into thin air, only leaving behind a vibrant trail of energy to mark its passage directly to the prince’s heart. In a matter of moments, the alien life form had fused itself into his body so thoroughly that she doubted they could be separated without killing him.

“What happened?” Cixi asked, her voice reverent and shaken.

“The dragon is symbiotic. It needed a host. That’s why the princess’s blood alone wasn’t enough to cause it to hatch. It needed blood and a suitable host.” She looked over at the Emperor’s sprawled body and didn’t need her scanner to tell that he was dead. “The Emperor was already ill, or it might have chosen him. In fact, that’s probably how the Yellow Emperor originally ‘tamed’ the dragon of legend. He simply became a host.”

“What now?” Ci’an’s voice was dull and she stared brokenly at the young man she’d raised as her own son. “How can we go on?”

“We must,” Cixi replied. “Is Prince Gong going to recover?”

In answer, he opened his eyes and took a deep, loud breath. He didn’t ask what had happened—the memory burned in his eyes as brightly as the fledgling. He touched his face, wincing at the tender skin and scratches the creature had left behind. “You’ll have to rule without me.”

“But—” Cixi began, but he sat up and sharply cut her off.

“I always told you I refused to rule. That’s why I helped you secure the crown for Zaichun. If you and Ci’an stand together united, you ought to be able to keep the throne. Assuming you can keep Zijin out of Britannia’s clutches,” he finished bitterly, glaring at the holographic image.

Majel slowly clapped her hands. “Very entertaining, Your Majesties of Zijin. I had no idea the Imperial line hosted such an interesting alien life force. Why don’t you bring this young man to Londonium with you, Wyre? If I know you, and I do, inside and out, there’s nothing you’d like better than to strap him to your instruments so you can study the changes such a symbiosis will cause in his body.”

“You know nothing about me, Your Majesty.” Turning, she noted that Gil hesitated at the edge of the pavilion. He was the one thing she was certain Majel knew nothing about, and he wasn’t sure if Charlotte would want that knowledge shared with the Queen. Smiling, she held out a hand to him and he immediately stepped into the pavilion to stand with her and Sig. “For instance, you’ve yet to be introduced to my other lover, Gilead Masters of Americus.”

“How many worthless lovers does it take to rescue you, Wyre? They’ll end up the same way as the young Emperor. Dead. And it shall be solely your fault that they suffer.” Majel’s face hardened, her eyes glittering like obsidian. “With your silly taste for tea and silk, I knew the first place you’d go once you left Americus. I didn’t need to track my Scorpion to know you’d flee to Zijin.”

She held up a small box, her thumb hovering over a detonation switch. “You claim that the infamous Lord Regret would never harm you, but when I press this button you’ll all be destroyed. I’d rather have you home with me, but I’ll do what I must. You know me, Wyre. You know I don’t bluff.”

Charlotte smiled faintly. “I know you well, Your Majesty, and no, indeed, you don’t bluff.”

“Then get on my ship and fly home.”

“No.” She moved to join Sig, even taking his arm and pressing close to his side when he tried to move away to spare her if he did detonate. “I don’t bluff either. If you want to try and force me to Londonium, you’ll have a mess to clean up.”

“Charlie, please.” Sig gripped both her upper arms, squeezing hard as he glared down into her eyes. “Go. Don’t let her win this way. I couldn’t bear it if you were harmed for my sake.” He loosened his grip with one hand so he could lightly trace the faded marks on her neck. His voice quivered with anguish. “I don’t want to hurt you ever again.”

Releasing Gil, she reached up and cupped Sig’s cheek. “Dearest, you’ve never hurt me. I’d rather die with you now than ever lose you again.”

“Very sweet,” Queen Majel retorted. “Say your good-byes.”

“I love you, Gil.” Charlotte adjusted the scanner in her free hand to find the button she’d wired with a surprise this very morning. “And I love you, Sig. Whatever happens, you’ll always be Lord Regret to me.”

“Charlie,” he choked out, dragging her close in a desperate hug, unknowingly helping her hide the scanner between their bodies. “Please. Don’t do this.”

Gil pressed against her back and they held her shielded between the two of them, braced for impact. “If he goes, we all go.”

Only Majel’s sharp, disbelieving inhale told Charlotte that the Queen had depressed the button…and been sorely disappointed when they weren’t blown to smithereens. She turned her head enough to see Majel without lifting her head from Sig’s chest. “His price has been paid, Your Majesty. The last Scorpion Tudor is dead.”

“What? How?”

Sig stiffened against her, his eyes widening when the Queen threw the detonator aside like rubbish. “She killed us.”

“She tried,” Charlotte agreed amicably. “But I warned her she’d have a mess to clean up.”

He pulled away enough to draw something out of his pocket. Charlotte had never seen that locket before, but from the way Majel’s eyes narrowed, she knew exactly what it was.

Sig flipped it open and shook out strands of golden hair. Then he threw the locket on the floor and ground it beneath his boot until it made a satisfying crunch. “Scorpion is no more.”

With that, Charlotte pressed the button on her scanner. “Take cover!” she shouted the warning to Prince Gong and the Dowager Empresses, still kneeling and grieving over their son.

The sudden silence was deafening. The electromagnetic pulse had targeted the ship’s engine frequency, shutting it down without notice. She’d been worried about her nanobots shutting down accidentally, leaving Sig’s damaged heart to beat alone, but he swept her up over his shoulder and shouted for Gil to lead the way, so he wasn’t negatively impacted. She pushed up enough so she could look at Majel one last time.