Page 39 of Company of Thieves
“No, if you want me with you when you meet your father, then I’ll be there.” I eyed Delilah, taking a firm grip on my resolve. “It won’t be a long ride.”
He said nothing, just hoisted me up into the saddle before taking charge of the white monster. I rode behind him as we went out to meet the imperator’s entourage, Delilah’s trot slow enough that we’d drifted to the back of Alan’s company by the time we stopped where the airship had landed. I noted that one of the men led Sampson, but didn’t have a chance to ask why before Yussuf, a guard Alan had assigned to accompany me, helped me off Delilah. I was just thankful I’d managed to not fall off despite her bone-shaking trot, and even steeled myself enough to pat her neck twice before moving up to where Alan stood, his arms crossed, his legs braced wide. With his turban, and the rich gold fabric embroidered with birds of prey, he looked every inch the fierce Prince Akbar.
He didn’t turn his head when I stopped next to him, but he did poke one elbow out. I tucked my hand in it, feeling oddly touched by the gesture. From what Alan hinted, I suspected his father would not be any too happy seeing him with me, but the fact that he didn’t try to downplay our relationship—burgeoning as it was—warmed me to the tips of my toes.
“Dammit,” I said under my breath.
“What?” he asked just as softly, his eyes firmly fixed on the people who streamed out of the airship.
“I think I’m falling in love with you.”
He said nothing for a moment, then turned to glare at me. “You choose now, this moment, when my father is literally seconds away from us, to tell me that?”
“Sorry,” I apologized, patting his arm. “It just kind of burst out of me. I didn’t mean to discombobulate you when you’re distracted.”
“I don’t even know what ‘discombobulated’ means, and yet, it doesn’t matter, because I have no time, absolutely no time to deal with the fact that you are deliberately trying to make me insane with words I don’t know.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” I said out of the side of my mouth when he turned his attention back to the incoming group of people. “Think of it more as something to chew over when you’re bored.”
He gave a little snort of laughter that was immediately stifled. I slapped a serene expression on my face, moving with him when he strode forward, the entourage having halted about ten feet in front of us. He stopped in front of a large, fleshy man in white-and-gold robes, poufy harem pants, and a fierce grizzled beard.
“You are welcome, Father,” Alan said, bowing, then released my hand and stepped forward to kiss his father’s cheeks. The imperator studied him with black, shiny eyes that instantly filled me with distrust.
“My son, you look well. But why do we speak in English?”
“Thank you, I am well. You do me great honor with your visit,” Alan replied, and then gestured back toward me. “My woman is American. She does not speak Kazakh, and I would not have her miss a word from the great Imperator Aurangzeb III. Hallie, I would present you to my father, the Imperator.”
Smooth, I thought to myself, taking the hand Alan offered me, and made my best curtsy, not that I was exactly sure how to make one. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Imperial Majesty,” I said, hoping I was remembering the form of address correctly.
“Ah, indeed,” the imperator said, his eyes crawling over me in a way that left me wanting an immediate bath. I kept my smile, wanting to do Alan proud. “She is a beauty, my son, even though she is unfortunately marked.”
I opened my mouth to tell him that I didn’t consider being freckled as “unfortunately marked,” but snapped my teeth closed, remembering that I was there to support Alan.
He acknowledged the compliment with a bow of his head and, with my hand firmly in his, turned to lead his father to the horses, but stopped when the imperator spoke again.
“I have with me a most important visitor, one whose comforts I know you will see to as well as you do my own.”
A man sidled out from the collection of twenty or so courtiers and guards, all of them male. I stiffened at the sight of the long face and coppery hair of the man when he stopped in front of us, his eyes widening at the sight of me.
“Etienne Briel is the leader of those who would see the British emperor brought to heel,” the imperator said, his voice fat with pleasure. “We have drawn up an accord so that we might better work together to bring an end to William VI’s influence on Europe.”
“What?” The look of mingled fury and horror on Alan’s face said a lot, but although his grip on my hand turned painful, he managed to get himself under control quickly. “You take our enemy to your bosom?”
“Is it not said that an enemy held close cannot strike without harming himself?” the imperator countered, and I knew, I justknewhe was enjoying Alan’s discomfiture.
Alan could not protest his father’s actions. I made sure to drop my gaze to the ground in hopes that my hair would hide my face from Etienne. He couldn’t have had much of a glimpse of me at El Kef, so perhaps he wouldn’t put two and two together.
“Indeed,” Alan said at last, and stiffly gestured toward the horses. “We have much to discuss. Would you care to try out my stallion, Father?”
“Naturally I would, but I believe we should allow that honor to our esteemed guest,” the imperator said.
Etienne made a smarmy little bow, and was about to reply when the white devil reared up, screaming and thrashing the air with his polished hooves. Once the two grooms had him under control again, Etienne murmured that he would not dream of denying the imperator the pleasure of such a fine beast.
“Chicken,” I murmured softly. The jerk of Alan’s hand in mine showed he heard me, but he said nothing, just led me back to where Delilah stood with her head hanging low, looking more than half-asleep.
The imperator evidently possessed Alan’s way with horses, because he charged past us, the white horse prancing and tossing his head, but more or less in control. I could feel his gaze on Delilah, scorn curling his lips. And it was at that moment that I threw fear to the wind and, with head held high, didn’t wait for Alan to walk me through the usual procedures. I patted Delilah on her nose, slid my hand over to her neck, and then got into the saddle before Alan could hoist me up.
He stood with his hand on my thigh for a moment, his gaze as blue as a sapphire in a pool of clear water; then he mounted Sampson and rode after his father.
