Page 41 of Pawn

His mind raced through options, discarding each as quickly as it formed. He could confront them directly—but without proof, it would be his word against theirs.

Then he remembered the words of the young rebels in the alleyway. There were others in the underground movement who were closely placed to Linnea. Others who would help him.

Instinct told Zexx he knew one of them well. All he had to do now was find him.

ChapterThirty-Three

Linnea had been awake for over an hour already, sitting at her small personal desk with various policy documents spread before her. The early hours had always been her sanctuary—the quiet moments before the tower fully awakened, before demands and crises consumed her day.

Yet despite the stack of resource allocation proposals and security reports demanding her attention, her mind kept drifting back to Zexx. To his hands on her skin, his lips against her throat, the intensity in his eyes as he'd kissed her.

He'd stayed away from her quarters the night before, but she knew he was only being careful. Heat bloomed in her cheeks at the memory of his kisses, and she couldn't suppress the smile that curved her lips even as she tried to focus on the trade agreement before her.

A soft knock at her chamber door pulled her from her reverie. "Enter," she called, hastily reorganizing the neglected documents to give the appearance of productivity.

Zelia entered carrying a tray with her breakfast, but her movements seemed oddly stiff, her eyes carefully avoiding Linnea as she set down the tray.

"Is something the matter?" Linnea asked.

"I know I'm not supposed to say anything, Chancellor, but you've always been kind to me, and..." she hesitated, a blush creeping up her neck, "I think the Dothvek is good for you."

Linnea blinked, momentarily thrown by the non sequitur. "I appreciate your... assessment of the ambassador," she said carefully, "but what does that have to do with whatever has you so nervous this morning?"

She glanced over her shoulder again before replying. "There's going to be a protest later today. Against you and your policies. Against having the Dothvek here." Her fingers twisted nervously in the fabric of her dress. "They're saying it will be much bigger than the last one."

A chill ran down her spine despite the warming room. Zexx had been right all along—there was organized resistance to her leadership, and it was gathering strength.

"I should assemble my advisors immediately," she murmured, half to herself.

Zelia's face twisted into a frown before she could smooth her expression, but not quickly enough to escape her notice.

"Why did you make that face?" Linnea asked, her voice sharper than intended.

She looked genuinely frightened now, her eyes darting toward the door as if contemplating escape. "I've spoken too much already, Chancellor."

“Zelia," she said, gentling her tone. "Please. Whatever you know could be important."

She swallowed hard, then squared her slim shoulders. "I know I'm just an attendant, Chancellor, but I hear things. The walls in this tower aren't as thick as some believe." She leaned closer, her voice dropping even further. "You shouldn't trust the old Cresteks around you. Not when it comes to the Dothvek. Not when it comes to the peace."

Before she could press her for more details, the door opened and K’Nar entered with a stack of parchment scrolls.

The young woman squeezed her hand briefly, then hurried off. She cut her eyes to Linnea’s adjunct briefly before exiting with a quick bow, the door closing behind her with a soft thud.

Linnea sat motionless as K’Nar hurried forward, the breakfast growing cold before her as she processed what she'd just learned. Not only was there a protest planned for today, but apparently her own advisors—the "old Cresteks" around her—couldn't be trusted.

As K’Nar started talking about the latest water surveys, Linnea’s mind raced. If she couldn't trust any of the Cresteks in her government, who could she turn to? Zexx was one man—a formidable warrior, certainly, but still just one man. And as a Dothvek, his involvement would only further inflame those who opposed her leadership and the peace.

She could appeal to the Dothveks for help, she supposed. They would come to Zexx's aid, and perhaps to hers by extension. Their warriors were fierce, their loyalty to their own unquestionable. But how would she even contact them? The oasis village was days away across the desert, and any messenger she sent would be noticed by her advisors, who apparently were working against her.

Then it hit her—there were more Dothveks than just those on the sands.

Her heart thumped nervously as the idea took shape. The bounty hunter ship that had left their planet carried both Dothveks and Cresteks among its crew. They had established a communication system with them—the encrypted channel that Maya had used to contact her friend Cat. If she could reach them, explain the situation...

But the communications hub was at the top of the tallest tower in the city, staffed by technicians who reported directly to the security council—to Vellen. Accessing it without arousing suspicion would be nearly impossible, especially if, as Zelia suggested, her movements were being watched.

She could send Zexx instead—but no, he would be even more closely watched than she was. Any move he made toward the communications hub would trigger immediate alarm, especially with a protest against his presence already organized.

K’Nar hadn’t seemed to notice her distraction as he unrolled scrolls over the stone desktop. She rose from her desk and moved to the window, gazing out over the awakening city. The market square below was beginning to fill with vendors setting up their stalls for the day, unaware of the political storm brewing within the very heart of their government.

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