Page 120 of Crown Prince's Mate

“I see.” My voice is flat. My first meeting with the woman who will be my mother-in-law, and without so much a“how do you do?”she’s telling me what to do.

“The Pentaris system is known for its pride. If this war drags on… as long as Obsidian threatens us, we need this marriage to appear completely legitimate. Your territories are essential. Doman will not dishonor you publicly. But you will have to accept that you are the second woman. That he will find his Mate and be with her.”

“How do you think Doman will feel about this?”

“He will understand. His duty is the Aurelian Empire above all. The Bond is more than just a way to produce offspring, Adriana. It offers many more changes. It will elevate him to the man who will one day be Emperor of all that I have.”

“You ask a lot of me.” I force down the humiliation, keeping my voice calm. I try to think this is only natural. That to Queen Jasmine, this is a marriage of power and politics, and nothingelse. She has no idea the connection that has grown between the triad and I, or that I can be Bonded to him. But she must sense that Doman cares about me—and she doesn’t want him to waste his time on a woman who can never bear grandchildren for her.

“And I give much in return. That is the way of the Aurelian Empire. I’ve learned in these centuries. When I took the throne, I was naïve. I thought I could change the nature of people. I could not. And that’s why I need this to be your idea. It can’t come from me. Doman is honorable above all, and he would not shame his wife. You need to make him see that this is the way to victory, and to peace, for our Empire and your system as well.”

She stands, and I do as well. I may be taller than her, but her presence seems to fill the entire garden.

“I brought you here to see your nature, and if you could be trusted.”

“I didn’t become Prime Minister for myself. I’ll always do what is best for Pentaris. As long as I have your word that my people will not be insulted, and that any arrangement is kept out of the public eye, I can accept.”

“Good.” She spits in her hand and proffers it to me. “An old custom, from my scavenger days on Bugra. We would seal deals like this.”

I hesitate, and she raises her eyebrow. “Ah yes. The algae methods of Etherion.”

She catches me by surprise. I didn’t know that anyone outside of my territories knew of the poisoning method designed on Etherion—poisoners gaining immunity over long years chewing micro-doses of algae until their saliva is deadly. A shiver goes through me.

I can’t tell if she’s threatening me, suggesting that if I hadn’t gone along with her agreement, that I might be removed, or if she’s merely showing me just how deeply her intelligence networks pierce.

“You know my planets well.” I spit it my hand and shake hers. We both eye each other, and as we meet each other’s eyes, I swear I see a tinge of sadness.

“I like you, Adriana. I’ve watched your career with great interest, from when you were a local politician on Virelia to your meteoric ascent. When I started as Queen of the Empire, I wanted to be someone like you. If anyone could bear my firstborn son’s children, I wish it could have been you.”

I’ve long learned to spot false flattery. Her sadness feels real.

“That’s the way of fate, Queen Jasmine.”

I leave her behind in the gardens, walking into the palace, and the moment I’m out of sight I wipe my hands off on my shirt, shivering.

I see why she is able to run an Empire. There’s a coldness to her, an ability to detach herself from what she wishes was reality to decide what is right. As I trace my steps back through the hallways, I look for a bathroom, but of course, the only one I find is for men. I knock and call out a quick“anyone in there”before entering, and I can barely see over the counter as I wash my hands, then make my way back to the landing bay where the Imperator rests.

Titus and Gallien are in deep conversation, which stops as I approach. They are next to one of the sleek, predatory attack ships of the Empire, beam weapons glittering with the promise of violence.

“What happened?” asks Gallien. He’s perceptive, that one, and though I tried to keep my face blank, he senses something is off, especially when I come back without Doman.

“Nothing. I'm sure Doman won’t be long. So, how are we getting to Bruton’s home?”

“Reaver,” answers Titus, slapping the side of the ship. “Come on in,” he says, as the side of it, seamless, opens with a slight hiss. As we walk inside together, I wonder how the pilots onFrosthold are faring with the alien ships. Pentaris seems so very far away, and I miss even that hostile planet of ice.

Titus leads us through the hallway to the blast doors of the cockpit, and inside he motions me to one of the Aurelian-sized seats in front of targeting controls. I pull myself up, watching out through the viewing bay until Doman strides from the palace, chatting with his fathers.

I’m glad that Queen Jasmine isn’t with him.

When he gets into the cockpit, I spin the chair and give him a hard look.

“Oh, come on. Was it so bad?”

“Worse.”

He grimaces. “What did she say?”

My heartrate quickens. Gallien is watching me carefully, his intelligent grey eyes piercing my being.

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