Lord Regret's Price: A Jane Austen Space Opera, Book 3 (20 page)

He closed his eyes, trying to block out her image, as though that would make her words dissolve as well. He’d always wondered how many of his kills might have been ordered by her via third and fourth parties, but he’d never suspected she’d planted some kind of bug on him. Horror made him open his eyes, to keep her in sight as though he could stop her somehow, some way.
We’re all trapped. What have I done? Why did I ever think I was safe and free of my bloody past?

“I know every breath you take. Every time you kill, the device records your location, your heart rate, your temperature, every nick and scrape you’ve accumulated over the years. As soon as Wyre disappeared, I knew it was you because the tracking device announced your presence in Londonium like a beacon. Every time you detoured to Americus, I knew. I knew where she hid and I waited for the perfect time to take her.

“So don’t tell me she’s not there. I scanned through your readings from last night and no one but the woman you love could have done that to your body. That’s also why I chose to contact you immediately, to ensure her safety. Your mother and father killed each other in the midst of their passion, and the readings I’m seeing warn you’re close to doing the same. I’ve got the readings from each of your seven hundred and ninety-three marks for comparison.”

She cocked her head to one side, her eyes glittering so that she reminded him of a great bird of prey spying its target from miles away. “Not quite the famed thousand deaths, but close enough. My patience knows no bounds, Henry Tudor, but if you breathe one word to her of this impending trap, I’ll know it. I’ll trigger the self-destruction mechanism in your device to eliminate you both. I’d rather see you both dead than lose her technology to anyone else.”

He sank to his knees, unable to remain standing beneath the onslaught of hatred and terror rattling about in his mind. All these years, he’d been afraid he’d lead a bounty hunter to her. Despite his care to never stay with her more than a day or two at most, he’d marked her location with a blazing bull’s-eye, returning to her year after year after year, while Majel waited like a fat, venomous spider on her web for the perfect moment to devour them both.

The caller dropped from his nerveless fingers but Majel still smiled up at him. “One day, Scorpion. And, remember, I’m watching.”

The screen blinked out, the connection dead. Sig drew in a shuddering breath. Another. His mind stuttered, frozen and broken into a thousand pieces. His greatest fears all realized, all come back to haunt him in one fell blow. Charlie was trapped by his love, as he’d been trapped the day of his birth. He couldn’t even kill himself to keep her safe because Majel already knew exactly where they were. As long as they remained in Xuanyuan they might be safe from the long arm of Britannia, but Charlie wouldn’t be able to hide for long. She’d only made it seven years on Americus. Eventually, Majel would find a way inside the Forbidden City, or she’d simply sit back and wait for one of the Emperor’s enemies to kill Charlie for her.

The idea of sending the nanobots keeping him alive to search out and destroy Majel’s device flickered through his mind, but then he discarded it. The tiny robots could easily devour metal and he had a rudimentary way of communicating with them. However, if Charlie had any hope of escaping this net, then Majel had to know exactly where he was. He could lead her away on a wild goose chase while Charlie escaped. Somehow. Assuming he could convince her to leave without him…

Without telling her anything.

Without her insistence that he flee with her.

Impossible. She loved him too much to believe a simple lie and he couldn’t tell her the truth or Majel would destroy them both. The Queen could swear on her firstborn child and he’d still doubt her sincerity that Charlotte wouldn’t be harmed.

We’re trapped.

He sat back on his heels and stared across the lush park of unnatural grass. It was fitting that he’d face the end of his life in this place, where countless women had been killed and used as fertilizer for an Emperor’s obsession with sea-colored eyes. He’d never advertised that he’d prefer to assassinate women, but most assassins had a problem killing the fairer sex. Never Lord Regret. How could he when his greatest regret was that he’d failed to kill his own mother to spare his father that task?

Now he realized that he couldn’t have saved himself anyway. It was too late. The moment he’d been born, he’d been marked as the future Scorpion. Queen Majel owned him as she’d owned his mother. Only his father had been free, yet he’d chosen to stay despite his wife’s cruelty. Weakness? Or had he truly loved her? Had Elizabeth Tudor loved her husband? Her son?

Numbly, he pulled the keepsake he’d carried with him since the horrible day his father had killed his mother and then turned that blade on himself. Sig had removed the bloodstained locket from his mother’s neck. The aged silver case bore a swirling
T
for her House. He flipped the locket open, even though he knew what was inside. He’d studied and stared at it for years, trying to decide what it meant.

A lock of his father’s golden hair, so like his own.

He pushed the hair aside to reveal the engraving on the inside case.
Scorpion.

He tried to bring up the horrors from his childhood, the nightmares that had rolled through his mind at night when he’d tried to sleep, but the memories had faded. He’d been tied up, yes. He’d been forced to watch his mother strike his father. She’d been vicious. He remembered that much. She’d enjoyed it.

As he’d enjoyed what Charlie did to him last night.

Maybe his father hadn’t been as brutalized as he’d thought. Maybe…

His brain suddenly fired up like a Razari engine shooting him to speeds never reached in deep space before. His father was free because he wasn’t a Tudor.

Gil wasn’t a Tudor.

Not once had Majel mentioned the other man.

Because she didn’t know he existed. She couldn’t know, because he was free. He’d never been part of her equation.

The truth blared in his mind, sending him stumbling up to his feet with renewed vigor. He shoved the locket back into his pocket. This must be how Charlie felt each time she experienced a breakthrough in one of her experiments.

Masters could get her out of here before it was too late.

Chapter Fourteen

Charlotte finished her tea and set the cup aside, turning her attention to the problem at hand. A dying, ancient dragon and an ailing, young Emperor. Were they truly connected by some mystical, magical bond? Would healing one truly cause an improvement in the other’s condition? If the old dragon passed into oblivion without ever waking again, would Zijin wink out of existence?

Honestly, she scoffed at any such medieval beliefs, although she had to admit that traditional beliefs were quite powerful. If the dragon died and the commoners became aware of its death, it might deal such a blow to their morale that they wouldn’t be able to stand against Britannia.

The maid silently returned to whisk away the pot as though she’d been watching and waiting from the shadows. All of the servants in the palace that she’d observed so far had the uncanny ability to practically disappear, scurrying quickly and quietly without a sound. Majel would approve.

Charlotte quickly poured herself another cup to delay the young woman. “I have some questions, if you don’t mind?”

The maid forgot herself enough to cast a wide-eyed look up at Charlotte before bowing her head and curtsying. “Of course, my lady. Shall I ring for Prince Gong or Her Majesty to assist you?”

Everyone she’d talked to thus far spoke flawless Britannian, including this young woman. It made her wonder how long Zijin might have feared some kind of invasion from Britannia. Or how long these servants had been trained to assist…and spy on…any foreign guests who might arrive.

Blandly, Charlotte asked, “Which Her Majesty would you call? One of the Dowager Empresses? What if I wanted to ask the young Empress, even though after last night I would doubt she even exists?”

The maid seemed to shrink, her shoulders tightening defensively. “Whichever you desire to converse with, my lady.”

That led her to believe the servant owed her loyalties to the prince. As the head of security, it made the most sense for him to have bugged their room. “Never mind. I actually wanted to ask you a few questions.”

“Me?” she squeaked.

“I’m fascinated by legends and myths, especially those about royal families. Can you tell me about the Imperial dragons?”

“The…the dragons? Surely Her Majesty—”

“No,” Charlotte broke in. “I want to hear the everyday sort of tales. The stories the people believe. Not what the Imperial family would tell me. Has the dragon always been the symbol for the Zijin Throne?”

“Since the Yellow Emperor,” the maid replied slowly, as though she was stating something every school-aged child in Zijin would know. “The Yellow Emperor defeated the Nine Li and brought civilization to Zijin. He gave us writing, mathematics and our calendar, as well as taught us how to grow our crops and tame wild animals, first by taming the mighty dragon to his hand. Some say the dragon was enchanted by the Li, and when the Yellow Emperor freed her, she transformed into a beautiful woman who retained all the powers of the mighty beast. All of the future Emperors were descended from them.”

“Who were the Nine Li?”

“Oh, they were awful horned beasts that roamed the system as demons. He drove them out and gave peace to these worlds.”

This Yellow Emperor could teach Majel a thing or two about how to take over an alien race and make himself a legendary god-king.

“In battle, the dragon flew to the Yellow Emperor’s call and blasted his enemies from the sky. For generations after, a dragon would appear in the sky to prove the Emperor truly was the Son of Heaven, though we haven’t seen a dragon for hundreds of years. Now they say perhaps the Emperor should sacrifice himself and bring back…” The maid’s face paled and she suddenly looked like she might throw up. “Excuse me, my lady, but I’m late for my duties.”

Charlotte let the poor woman escape. She had all she needed.

If the mythical dragon appeared in the sky during the Imperial procession, all doubts about the Tongzhi Emperor’s right to rule would be put to rest for good. No wonder his mother was so determined to wake this poor hibernating beast.

There might also be some truth to the legend of all the Emperors being descended from that original pairing, although she certainly didn’t believe the dragon was really an enchanted woman in disguise. Perhaps the original species of this system was able to shapeshift and the Emperor did sire the children of his line from her. Perhaps this dragon was a genetic throwback closer to the original pure species. She’d have to run some DNA analysis between the Emperor and the dragon to be sure. They might be related…

Someone screamed outside in the hallway. Charlotte jumped to her feet and rushed to the doorway. The young maid was on the floor, propped up against the wall. Blood dripped from both wrists. The woman who’d screamed ran back toward the opposite end of the hall, hopefully for help.

“Who did this to you?” Charlotte knelt down to examine the wounds, trying to decide how best to proceed. She didn’t want to use her technology unless she absolutely must. But the woman didn’t have to answer. The cut of the wounds was long, deliberately deep into the veins of her wrists. She’d already lost so much blood there was nothing even Charlotte’s nanobots could do, short of a transfusion.

“I did,” she gasped. “I…shamed…my family.”

Fury crawled through Charlotte until she wanted to scream, even while bile churned her stomach with guilt.
I didn’t want this to happen. Another person dead because of me.

Gil’s door flew open and rebounded against the wall as he came charging out. “Are you all right? Did someone attack you?”

She shook her head, holding the woman’s hand. Her skin was already clammy and her breathing erratic. She’d bleed out fast with both wrists slashed. Gently, she squeezed the woman’s hand. “I’m so sorry.”

The maid’s head slipped to the side, her eyes unseeing.

Charlotte stood and stepped into Gil’s waiting arms. “What happened?” he asked against her hair. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Oh but it was,” her words were muffled against his chest. “It’s always my fault. I ask too many questions.”

She made no protest as he led her back into her room. He set her back in the chair and poured a bracing amount of brandy into her cooled tea. “People are starting to die, so you must be close to the truth.”

She sighed and rubbed her temples. “Close, yes. I need access to their mainframe to be sure. I guess that’s one way to convince Her Majesty to let me near their computers. I can’t run detailed DNA analysis on my datapad—it would take way too long.”

Gil paused until she met his gaze, and then he gave a pointed look to the disruptor on the table, eyebrows raising. She nodded, giving him the all clear to talk freely. No one had overheard the poor maid’s betrayal of the Imperial family’s secrets. She didn’t have to die.

“The Emperor took me through a maintenance tunnel last night. I saw bundles of wires as thick as my wrist.”

“Good. I’ll give you some of my sniffers this time, in case he asks you to go again. See if you can plant one on the door leading into the tunnel to mark the way, and then plant more on the wires. They’ll lead us to the mainframe in case I’m denied access. But I think the Dowager Empress is desperate enough that she’ll make sure we get what we need.”