Page 103 of Crown Prince's Mate

He knows I’m right, but he hates it. Finally, he breaks his focus from the hallway, turning to let those burning blue eyes linger over me, and marches away, leaving the three of us.

Gallien takes up his position at the hallway while Titus suppresses a groan, his jaw clenched as he lays back on the table. His chest is sealed up, without even a mark, and only the blood pooling over his body and down to the floor gives any indication he was wounded—though his marble face is pale, the stoney hue looking thin and fragile.

The robotic arm moves down to his forearm, and Titus clenches his hand into a fist as a syringe jolts into his veins and starts to replace what he lost. It’s hypnotic, watching the fresh blood pumping into him.

My smart-watch is flashing red with urgent calls from the Pentaris council. I hover my finger over the coms request, knowing they’ll have gotten the news of the assassination attempt and they need to see their leader alive and well.

“Gallien, what’s the report from my ship?”

“No casualties. The worst injury was a broken leg. Other than that, minor wounds in the panic. The War-God's triads were sent for you. They ignored everyone else.”

“I’m the link between Pentaris and you. And if they killed me on your ship, you’d be expelled from our territories. I’ve got to take this,” I say, holding up my flashing watch.

“Go ahead.”

“It’s private.”

Gallien shakes his head, scanning left and right, while Titus, through lidded eyelids, is clutching the hilt of his weapon tight. He expects triads to appear in the med-bay itself. “I’m not leaving you alone. Not when Obsidian could shift in more troops. Take the call here.”

“Fine.” I open the call, my smart-watch beaming out the images of the same set of faces I faced when this all began. Itseems like a lifetime ago. My plans to halt the betrothal, the rituals of each planets, planting the seeds on Virelia, it’s all a blur, like it happened to someone else. The five reps are joining in on holo-vid call, each on their respective planets, but in the safety of their homes, far from the battle lines, none of them looks secure.

“Are you okay?” Gunnar bursts out the question the instant I join the call, not giving me a chance to compose myself. “Where are you? Your damn Administrators are refusing to send me your location. I’ve got a fleet ready to escort you back.”

“I’m in a med-bay on the Imperator. It’s not private – you are on the call with Gallien and Titus. I’m unharmed. No fleet necessary, I’m in good hands. Titus himself took a blade to the chest to keep me safe, but he’ll survive, along with all the citizens onboard the warship. The Imperator has top of the line med-bays.”

I take a deep breath, centering myself, my words far off and analytical. “I’m going to keep this short. The Planet-Killer test went without any problems. Obsidian used the energy signal of the test to track our location and send his assassins, who were cut down by Aurelian troops. The system is fully operational. The Toad Kingdom’s sensors will have picked up the energy surge, and they’ll know we’ve got Planet-Killers guarding our borders. They will not encroach further. Not with the Aurelian Empire backing us.”

Aeris’ double-lidded eyelids are wide. She hasn’t blinked the entire time I was speaking, and she’s staring at me with apprehension and fear.

With a shiver, I realize she’s scared of me. Scared of what I’m capable of, and my part in the tests.

“There was no collateral damage,” I state, to reassure her, and all of a sudden I feel very, very tired indeed.

“Are you sure?” Her soft voice, barely more than a whisper, carries. She is in a glass room, the murky oceans a backdrop.

“I’m sure.”

I try not to think of that tiny point at the epicenter of the weapon’s strike point.

Or the feeling of being watched, that something, somehow, was staring through that tiny point that should not be, and witnessed us.

“What did you see?” Aeris pushes. I wonder if she’s had another vision, deep in the caves, or if the Krakens have retreated from even her. I can see myself in the holo-vid feed. While each of the representatives are in the clothes of their home planets, I’m a mess, my shirt ripped, my hair tangled, the sterile walls of the med-bay gleaming in the backdrop. I look exhausted.

“I saw a weapon more powerful thananyoneshould have. And I’m glad it’s on our side. I’m going to go now. I need to recover.”

Aeris leans in. “Wait. I need to ask you?—”

Gunnar cuts her off. “She just went through an attempt on her life. She needs to rest up. She can deal with the bureaucratic red tape later.”

I shut off the feed. I should be contemplating Gunnar’s new respect for me, and what it means for planetary relations for him to think of me as a fellow soldier. What Aeris might have seen in the depths, and what she’d say if I told her the truth.

After the adrenaline dump, all I want to do is curl up in Titus’ huge arms.

The injured Aurelian’s heavy-lidded eyes blink open. He grunts, pulling at the robotic arm, which beeps in protest before withdrawing the syringe, the last spurt of fresh blood landing on his wrist as it retreats back up into the ceiling. “Obsidian should not have been able to do that. Theprecisionof it.”

Heavy bootsteps, and Gallien steps back from the door as two triads of guards, called in to protect me, fill the hallway. I sit heavily on the floor, finding security with the back against my wall. Gallien deactivates his blade and squats next to me, his back straight. “Those triads were on a one-way trip. No way back. True believers, double branded on their foreheads. The kind of soldiers who worship Obsidian as a God. They were willing to die for a chance to assassinate you.”

“How did they know I was here?”

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