Page 13 of Crown Prince's Mate

Just a shred. I never would have thought they would capture a pregnant woman, keep her locked up, using the Bond between her and Obsidian against their foe. That is their most egregious sin. That is how I know that they are not human, that Queen Jasmine has become as they are, cold, calculating brutes whose only purpose is conquest.

That is how I know the Bond can corrupt a mind, can mold you into something you were not.

The three Aurelian princes are cold, sitting perfectly still, not even a flutter of movement, staring straight at me without blinking.

They are quiet, but I know there is a fierce, unheard conversation happening between them, weighing my words, deciding their response, communicating telepathically.

Prince Doman leans in. “No. You have my word, we will not use the Planet-Killers against any planet of the Pentaris cluster.” The game is up, and there’s no more dancing around his deadly cargo.

I keep myself rigid, but inside, there is a huge weight lifted off me. Prince Doman may be a monster...

But he is a monster with rules, a monster with honor, unlike the Fanatics of his species who threw off everything, following their War-God. I know him. I know him better than anyone except his own battle-brothers. I felt that when I felt his being, flooding through me, this hard edge of honor like iron.

“We ask of the Pentaris cluster only safe passage. An agreement, strong enough to hold any… rogue human nationalists in check. You know our cargo. You know how delicate it is. And you know that your territories give us the best route to our destination.”

Beside me, still silent, Aeris stiffens. Her face is pale, and she swallows, fear painted on her.

I shake my head. “You’re talking about taking the Planet-Killers into space controlled by the Fanatics. I cannot allow it. Using those weapons on their planets will kill every human subjugated by them. Billions of lives.”

“You have my word of honor, we do not plan to use the Planet-Killers against Obsidian’s planets. They do not have the weapons themselves. This is purely deterrence.”

My mind races. I piece it together. The only other species with the deadly weapons are the Toad Kingdom, who waged war against the Aurelians over a thousand years ago, a deadly battle that saw entire systems turned into empty space.

“The Toad Kingdom is bound by law not to use them.”

“Laws that have been broken. They have been testing their fleet. That cowardly species senses weakness, and they strike. You must know they are slowly probing your borders, flying through the contested space between your kingdom and theirs. We are bound by honor, but they are not. With the threat of the Planet-Killers, they could force you to surrender to them.”

I let his comment that our democratic system is a kingdom flow over me—he did not mean it as an insult, a small mistake in his speech that tells me he hadn’t been planning to reveal all this to me.

“We are escorting two Planet-Killers to the border, to use on the uninhabited planet of X4-Z. We will take it out of existence, and the Toad Kingdom will know that our fleet is still functional. That was the reason for their tests. Not to use them—but to see if we could respond in turn. If we do not show them we still have the capabilities, and the will to use them, they will see it as weakness. My species will not fight a war on two fronts. Not if it can be avoided.”

I’m surprised by his openness. I can’t tell if it’s a new ploy. I doubt even his top generals have the full extent of this information.

Unless there is more he is hiding, key details that I will ignore, thinking I have the full story.

“May I speak, your highness?” asks Aeris, breaking her silence.

“Aeris of Etherion. Please do,” says Doman, with respect he doesn’t grant me.

“I beg of thee, do not perform your demonstrations.”

Doman slides his long finger against the marble of his armrest, considering her words.

“We have a great respect for the seers of your planet. Do you have a vision, to share with us?” Gallien’s voice has an urgency he can’t conceal.

“Yes and no,” replies Aeris. “Our visions stretch out into the future, a thousand different threads. They are never clear. The threads of the future ripple and spread out into eternity.”

Doman looks over at me, then her. “Well, if you have nothing concrete to add…”

“That is just it, Prince Doman. The threads are alive. They tense and they reverberate. At least, they always have.”

The three Aurelian princes stiffen, ever so slightly. They focus on Aeris with an intensity in their gazes as if they are preparing to go into war, awaiting her every word.

“Each vision, more threads go dead.”

“Dead? What do you mean, dead?” Doman’s voice is cold and hard.

“Flat. Forever. A dark age, royal triad. An age of darkness, that cannot be called an age, because ages end. There are infinite futures, your highnesses. I have seen them all, like a torrent of a raging river poured into the thimble of my mind. Our visions are murky because of our human limits. We only gain a few key insights. I have seen futures of war, of peace, but now, I see futures which are no future at all.”

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