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Authors: Eric Nylund

BOOK: A Game of Universe
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Sir Benjamin’s eyes lit up. “Precisely!”

14

T
he air was full of music—flowing from the orchestra at the far end of the ballroom—and thick with perfume oozing from the nobility who circulated and gossiped and adjusted their finery while they waited for the first dance.

We dance a few waltzes to make the natives happy, slip out, and have the ambassador show us Osrick’s grave,
I told my personalities.

Across the room, Virginia wore the gown of blue silk instead of the red one I had suggested. She was stunning. Her hair was up, but loose, so that ringlets brushed both cheeks, and a triple string of pearls clung to her lovely throat. Noblemen, all smiles, clamored around her.

There was no denying the burning in my stomach was raw jealousy, but I couldn’t go to Virginia; I was supposed to be here for the princess, to marry her. Something odd struck me about Sir Benjamin’s explanation. If Osrick had the power to crack the planet and imprison the Bren forever, then why did he make his curse so easy to dispel? And why hadn’t Princess Lilian been married off yet? There had to be a catch.

The King and Queen stepped onto the floor for the first dance. The orchestra played Chopin, and the royal pair moved in a simple box step. After a dozen measures, the King stopped and bowed to his mate, then they uncoupled, spun around, and rejoined with the positions of their hands reversed. This odd waltz continued, jumps and dips sprinkled in seemingly at random, yet it looked quite graceful.

Was I expected to know this sequence of steps? I rested my hand on the sword the ambassador insisted I wear. It was gold and so long it nearly touched the floor. I’d likely trip over it the first time I crossed my legs.

Celeste?

I am here to fulfill your needs. What is your desire?

You know damn well what I need. You must handle this, but you must promise that the Grail comes first—not one of your sexual adventures.

I’d never get you into trouble,
she said innocently.

Reluctantly, I yielded my body to her. We passed one another in my mind, and she caressed me, aroused memories of when she was alive, and when we were lovers. I caught the scent of her perfume,
Seven Moons,
then I slipped down a dark tunnel. The music became muted and distorted.

Using my eyes, she watched Princess Lilian across the ballroom, encircled by ladies and flanked by two guards. Her silver gown was cut low enough to provoke interest, yet covered just enough to conjure forth an equal portion of curiosity. The bodice about her slim torso traced the outline of her hips, then joined a long train that cascaded about her legs and flowed behind her.

She is a nymph come to the surface for a breath of air,
Celeste thought.
Her dress is a veil of water that catches the light, and clings to her body.

The princess noticed me watching her and met my eyes, then returned to gossiping.

Celeste turned to the ambassador, who had not left our side all evening, and asked, “Tell me more of the princess. What is she like?”

“She comes from two royal lines,” he replied, “the Geulfs from the highlands, and the—”

“Forget that political nonsense, what is
she
like?”

He yawned, still groggy from our interrogation. “She is a woman of many talents, Prince Germain.” He added in a whisper, “And an accomplished sorceress.”

“I believe we have not been properly introduced,” Celeste said to him. The first waltz ended then, and she strode across the floor, over lustrous gold circles and seamless black marble. The ambassador hastened to catch up.

The princess’s friends parted for us, while the ambassador quickly recited, “Princess Lilian, may I present Prince Germain of Earth. Prince Germain, allow me the honor of introducing the Princess Lilian of Castle Kenobrac.” Celeste made me bow and say, “Truly, in all my travels I have never laid eyes upon such loveliness. Seventy worlds have I seen during my quest, and not until this moment have I encountered feminine perfection. Might I beg the honor of your first dance?”

That’s laying it on a bit thick,
I said.
Couldn’t you think of something original?

“Original” rarely works as well as unabashed flattery,
Celeste explained.
She knows your feelings now. There’s no guesswork involved.

My feelings?

Princess Lilian gave her head a little toss and sent a wave of sable hair over her shoulder. “Your words are kind, Prince Germain. I would be honored to dance with you; however, I am afraid there are several others who have inquired before you. If you do not mind waiting.”

“Point them out to me,” Celeste declared, “and I shall duel them all for the pleasure of your company.”

Her smile waxed and her cheeks flushed a pale lavender. “There is no need for that, prince. I’m certain they would not wish to fight
you.”
She held out her gloved hand, and Celeste took it, holding it like a fragile piece of crystal.

Didn’t the ambassador say that the princess was still sick? That Osrick made her invented disease real? How contagious was she? I saw no obvious blemishes, nor sensed any fever on her brow; indeed, her skin was smooth and taut and the color of the sky after a rain—clean and vibrant.

We paraded to the center of the ballroom, where all the court watched. Celeste didn’t see them; she could only gaze into the princess’s lovely eyes, which were several shades darker than her skin. When she looked down and shaded them with her thick lashes, they turned black.

The second waltz began.

Celeste placed my right hand about her waist. The princess stiffened as if no one had touched her there before, as if we did something taboo. Beneath the fabric of her dress, Celeste and I felt her firm body—hot to the touch. She relaxed, a bit, then started to revolve about me in time to the music, pushing me away with her right hand, while clasping me tightly with her left.

“Your appearance at the castle has ignited much gossip,” she said. “Many doubt you are a prince at all.”

“Oh? And what do you think?”

“I
know
you are nobility,” she answered and carefully examined my face, “a prince, or even a king perhaps. You have a regal bearing about you.” We let go of each other, turned a full circle, then rejoined. Again, she pushed away with one hand, held on with the other; half of her attracted to me, the other half repelled. “I would venture to say,” she added, “that you have never been commanded in your entire life.”

What should I have Celeste tell this girl who looked fifteen, yet was two centuries older than me? How much did she suspect? Her features were innocent, but her eyes—she couldn’t hide what was in them. They were deep water, stormy, full of intelligence and awareness.

After five more measures of the waltz, the princess inquired, “The woman you came with, the Lady Virginia, are you related to her?”

Celeste dipped the princess halfway to the floor, then brought her up and answered, “The Lady Virginia is the captain of my ship, a servant, and nothing more.” Celeste said this “nothing more” with a finality that disturbed me.

“I see.”

“Your husband?” Celeste asked, “the poet prince, where is he this evening? I have not seen him.”

“My husband?” Her smile vanished. “You must mean the gentleman who sat on my left when we received you. He is not my husband at all, but my cousin.”

It was a conspicuous lie, one that told me more than the truth would have, one that Celeste was thrilled to hear.

Our hands released. I bowed to her, she curtsied to me, and when we recombined, closer than before, the repulsion, her pushing away, had not half its former strength. Even though my senses were dulled, Celeste’s attraction was unmistakable. My skin flushed, and we breathed in deeply, relishing Lilian’s perfume: roses and wine.

“Your dancing is flawless, Prince Germain.”

“A grace inspired by the beauty I see before me, equally as flawless.”

Celeste and the Princess Lilian are engaged in another dance,
the psychologist whispered to me,
one that has nothing to do with feet.

Three more beats, then, “This quest you are on,” the princess said, “it tantalizes me. Might I be of any assistance to you?”

“That would be most difficult, for I am burdened with a curse as I have explained. I may not reveal the nature of what I seek.”

“A curse …” She considered this word for a moment. “I have some meager talent with magic. Perhaps I may determine the nature and strength of the spell you are under. And perhaps”—her smile reappeared—“together, we might find the object of your quest?”

Get out of this, Celeste. We don’t have the time to waste.

“How might this be accomplished?” Celeste asked.

“My mother is a most proficient sorceress. She possesses an amulet that may overcome the magic that silences you. It enhances one’s memories and mental abilities. I might persuade her to allow me to borrow it for you.”

I had the feeling that I had seen, or perhaps used, an amulet similar to the one her mother wore, the tiny black and gray idol. Like Virginia and the
Grail Angel,
it was exceedingly familiar. It annoyed me that I couldn’t place where I used it or why. The memory was elusive and ethereal, then gone.

“Your offer is most generous,” Celeste made me say, “but are you certain there would be no danger to you?”

“None at all. Shall we rendezvous in my chambers, after the dance?”

“Your chambers?” Celeste almost came to a halt on the dance floor.

The princess cast her eyes down in perfect practiced modesty. “Where my magical trappings are, good prince.”

“Of course, a splendid idea.”

Celeste! What are you doing?

To refuse her would be a serious breach of courtesy. We wouldn’t want to offend anyone.

The music ended, we bowed to one another, then Celeste asked, “I shall see you again this evening?”

“I look forward to it.”

We escorted her back to her attendants, exchanged bold smiles, then headed for Virginia. Celeste grabbed her arm and said to the noblemen flirting with her, “Excuse me, gentlemen, but I must have a word with the captain of my ship.”

Celeste dragged her onto the dance floor.

My good woman
, the psychologist interjected,
your actions will certainly make this princess jealous.

I don’t need a shrink telling me my business.

Listen to him,
I said.
We’re wasting time.

This will only take a second.

Virginia whispered to me, “I told you, I can’t dance.”

Celeste ignored her protest and took her hands as the music started. “Just follow my lead, honey.”

We waltzed.

Virginia was only a second behind the first spinning maneuver. The bioware that enhanced her guesses made her a better dancer than she realized. “What are we doing out here?” she asked.

“We need to talk,” Celeste made me say.

Stop this now!
I cried.

“I no longer need you here.”

Celeste bowed to her; Virginia curtsied to me. “I don’t understand,” she said.

I struggled with Celeste for control of my body, but her position was secure; this was her area of expertise. Jealousy and rejection were her playthings.

It’s for your own good, honey. Fifty-five and I have it all worked out.

What do you mean “worked out”?

“Let me spell it out for you,”
Celeste whispered back to Virginia. “You can forget all that crap I said earlier.
You’re right. I will be going back to the Corporation after this mission. There is no place in my professional life for you. I can buy a dozen of your kind.”

Celeste please, no.

Virginia tried to break away, but Celeste gripped her tight. From my mouth came: “Don’t make a scene and keep smiling. If you jeopardize my mission now … that would be most unfortunate.”

Virginia’s eyes narrowed.

“You see,” Celeste purred, “I have made arrangements with the princess, and I will not be needing your services, at least, not in bed. I still require a pilot, however.”

“You bastard!” she hissed.

Celeste laughed softly. “I needn’t remind you that we have a verbal contract for the next six months, so please listen carefully to my orders. After our dance, I want you to return to the
Grail Angel
like an obedient employee.” With a smile and a perfectly even voice, she added, “If you can’t handle that, I swear, I’ll blast your brains out.”

Tears welled in Virginia’s eyes. “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” she said.

“You better believe it,” Celeste replied and squeezed her hand even tighter, “or I might have to arrange for a demonstration of how serious I am. Do you understand?”

Her strong chin trembled, then she answered, “I understand.”

The dance was only half over, but Celeste made her finish it. I tried again to repossess my body, to explain to Virginia that the words I’d spoken were not mine, but it was no use. I screamed but no one heard. We waltzed silently, mechanically. Celeste kept my mouth frozen in a smile.

The music ended and we bowed to one another. Virginia barely contained her tears when she lowered her head.

Celeste glanced to the princess, who watched us with great interest. When we turned back to Virginia, I saw her running to the back of the ballroom and out the servant’s entrance.

Don’t do this,
I whispered.
You can have both women. I’ll do anything—just go after her.

Too late. It’s done. Moreover, I don’t want both. I want the best, and that is the princess. Keeping your commoner pilot around only complicates my seduction.

But she’s more than my pilot, she’s

She’s what?
Fifty-five demanded.
The geisha isn’t running the show anymore. We made a deal. She gets rid of that spy for me, and I get her the princess. Now, we’re all going to take a stroll down to the catacombs, so you can forget chasing after your girlfriend.

We only have your best interests at heart,
Celeste said.
Virginia wasn’t right for us. But the princess, she has a title, power, and wealth. A much better catch.

I know you think Virginia is a spy,
I said to Fifty-five,
but if you let me go after her, I’ll give you control for the rest of this mission.

Stop your whining, junior. It makes me sick. I’m in control now, but I don’t want to run the whole mission. I need you to deal with all the ghosts and Grails, the magic; that’s your area of expertise. Try and think like a team player.

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