CHAPTER 3
The next morning, Xaviara hurried to the office sub-section, hoping for praise from her boss for thwarting whatever sabotage was afoot. Instead, Manda was in a tizzy over preparations.
“Gloria agreed that I could be Lead on this negotiation,” she said. “We have to be ready to receive them.”
“Er,” said Xaviara, “what about—”
“They’re arriving this afternoon and I’m not even remotely prepared. Can you take notes?”
Xaviara pulled out her tablet, annoyed. She was hoping for kudos after the embarrassing incident with Piotr. “Yes.”
Manda plucked a tablet off a desk covered in a haphazard array of several. “I really need to consolidate these, don’t I? What am I saying? There’s not time for that. We have to get ready for the kadyyza.”
The treaty with the kadyyza was important for two reasons: both economies would benefit from increased trade, and it would put to rest a long-standing hostility that had cropped up over rights to mine particles from a space anomaly. Over a decade ago, the animosity reached a fevered pitch when the rivalry spiraled out of control into a full-on battle. Several hundred civilian human and kadyyza space miners died that day, referred to as the Day of Darkness.
As a result, both sides finally realized it was time to do something to mend relations between themselves. An interim treaty had been put into place, and both species’ governments pushed goodwill ads to the populace for years. This treaty was the final step in solidifying relations, so Manda’s nervousness was understandable.
“I think their quarters are ready,” said Manda, “but I want to check one more time. Plus the reception room! We have to make sure their flag is hung properly. We don’t want an incident like when I was an aide, when a coworker accidentally hung a flag upside down. Did you know that’s why relations with the mymni are strained?”
“I didn’t.”
“Also, don’t forget how to say their names if you have the occasion—surname, then given. Valkkh Camlan, for instance.”
“Yes, Manda.” Listening, agreeing—those were the things that would get on Manda’s good side. But Xaviara couldn’t stand it any more. She blurted, “What happened to Tom?”
Manda looked up from her tablet. “Tom?”
“The guy from last night? The one I caught with the suspicious mail?”
“Oh.” Manda looked back down. “I turned it over to Coalition security. Did they arrest him?”
“Yeah, about three seconds after I sent the mail. They busted in and hustled him out.”
“Wow.” The stream of words had been momentarily staunched. “They really move, don’t they?”
“I guess so. What about the sabotage?”
“What about it?” Manda swiped rapidly through kadyyza dossiers.
“Shouldn’t we be worried about it?”
“No, I’m sure they’ve got it under control. We have other things to do.”
“But what if—”
“Never mind!” Manda stopped swiping. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. Honestly, in all the years I’ve been with the Coalition, we’ve never had a problem with security. If a plot was afoot to sabotage the negotiation, they’ve squashed it like a bug. Promise.”
Xaviara wasn’t convinced. “Is someone from the security team coming with us to Imdali?”
“If they think it’s necessary, they will.” Manda went back to swiping. She stopped on a picture of the trincaar. “The prince sure is handsome, isn’t he?” She gasped, face reddening. “Sorry. I guess I hadn’t noticed before. This picture… It does him justice.”
“It does.” Xaviara glanced down at the dossier. Prince Camlan definitely was attractive, with his indigo skin, a perfect mix between the various colors of their species. But the man who caught her eye was his Captain of the Royal Guard, Nicholen. He had a rougher look to him—more military, with short cropped hair and a glint in his eye that made her stomach flip.
“But never mind all that.” Manda closed the dossiers. “We have more important things to worry about than men, don’t we?”
“Yes, we do.”
“All right, so as I was saying about the flag. Can you see to it personally?”
* * *
Xaviara spent the day checking off items on Manda’s list, along with the other three aides, Rosa, Kristoph, and her rival, Piotr. That afternoon, Manda jittered in the reception room, side-eying her aides for the tenth time.
“Fix your collar, Kristoph,” she said. “I’ve asked three times.”
Xaviara’s co-aide looked down at his shirt, shrugged, and smoothed a hand over it.
“Let me just do it myself!” Manda stalked across the room, popped the collar up and out, and then laid it back down.
The door opened. The four aides and the now-Lead, Manda, snapped into a straight line.
The blue-skinned alien who walked through the door first was short and muscular. Xaviara blinked as the room went watery, slid to the side, and then righted itself. Dizzy, she managed to hold in a gasp, although Manda gave her a sharp look. Xaviara blinked rapidly, accidentally taking a snap of the entourage.
Manda stepped forward to complete introductions while Xaviara held in a breath and waited for whatever sickness this was to pass. Now is not the time for food poisoning. But it wasn’t nausea. It was something else, a disorientation she’d never felt before. Finally certain she wasn’t going to fall over, she let out a breath and studied the group.
What she realized almost made her gasp again.
The trincaar was there, all right, but he was skulking in the back, while Captain of the Guard Nicholen wore the deep indigo cape and acted in the role Camlan should have.
What in the blazes is going on? Xaviara was certain the dossiers had shown something different. Camlan’s classically handsome face had stared back from the file marked Imdali System Trincaar, and Nicholen’s had glared from the file marked Imdali System Captain of the Trincaar’s Guard. And she’d seen audvids of the playboy prince in action! Partying, winking at the camera… But they’d switched positions.
Stranger still was that no one seemed fazed except Xaviara.
Completing the kadyyza greeting perfectly, Manda kissed her fingers and held them to the faux prince with the air of diplomatic politeness. None of the other aides look as confused or uncomfortable as Xaviara felt. Piotr and Rosa were both staring raptly at Nicholen, the fake prince, whose shoulders were rigid and movements stiff.
Should she say something? Why this ruse?
Part of Xaviara’s research for Manda had been into the special abilities the kadyyza possessed, besides the species’ psychic ability to sense emotion. A civil war had nearly wiped them out centuries ago, and as part of the truce, the leaders had genetically engineered the royal line to rule in fairness and justice for all, with an inborn loyalty to their people so deeply ingrained in their genes that it could never be broken.
Whatever the trincaar was doing, he believed he was doing it for the good of his people.
Far be it from me to unveil their little charade, decided Xaviara. After all, secrets were the trade of ambassadors, and it looked like she possessed one her human delegation knew nothing about. It might come in handy somewhere between the human solar system and the kadyyza one.
Satisfied, she looked up to see the fake prince’s bright, violet eyes boring into hers.
This time, she almost staggered at the weight of the muscular, handsome man giving her a searing once-over. He’s the real captain, she told herself. He’s just checking to ensure you’re not a threat.
But Xaviara’s heart fluttered faster when he held her gaze.
My, but he was well-built. She’d found him attractive when looking through the dossiers before—everyone fawned over the trincaar, but Xaviara preferred her men a little dangerous. Camlan seemed goofy, whereas Nicholen seemed the real backbone of this entire delegation. He was short but powerful, and despite his obvious discomfort, he moved with the grace of a predator. Beneath the official uniform of the royal family were muscles she could see herself falling asleep on.
What am I thinking? But she couldn’t look away from those brilliant violet eyes, as desire buzzed inside her. His stare penetrated her soul, and she bit her lip to keep from letting out a squeak. When he tore his gaze from her and settled it on Manda, she nearly sighed at the loss.
Oh, yes. For more reason than one, this was going to be an interesting few days.
* * *
The moment Nicholen stepped into the reception room, three things struck him.
First, the humans were impeccable in their diplomacy. He’d accompanied Camlan on these delegations off and on his whole life, and he’d never seen a single group so well-organized as this one seemed to be.
Second, he did not like the spotlight. Kissing the fingers of the Lead was a hell of an awkward thing for him, and he was certain Manda Aurellia was going to call him out any second. He almost regretted that she didn’t—at least then, this terrible ordeal would be over instead of only beginning.
And third, the aide in the back with the long, black hair who seemed distracted by something—the only break in protocol—was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
As if he didn’t have enough to concern himself with, he couldn’t keep his eyes from her face. She seemed young and sweet, but her eyes held an intelligence unmatched by any other person—kadyyza, human, or other—that he’d ever met. Manda, the Lead, was clearly a bright woman, or she wouldn’t have been given this important assignment so early in her career. But this aide, Xaviara—he rolled the name over in his mind; it reminded him of a beautiful winged insect in their home system—possessed a self-awareness that bored into him.
He chanced another look over at her. She was staring. When he met her deep, brown eyes, something sparked through him to settle in his groin. He nearly let out a moan.
These were absolutely the wrong thoughts to be having at a time like this. He would need to stay far away from her if he was to concentrate on the task at hand. Nicholen quickly looked back to the Lead, who’d been going through the customary greetings with the rest of the kadyyza.
“May we show you around the space station?” asked Manda.
Nicholen realized half a beat too late she was talking to him—the fake trincaar. “Please. We’d be delighted.” Ugh, I’m doing fucking terrible here. They’d think him slow, a poor representation of Camlan, if he kept this up. He didn’t agree with the trincaarit’s orders, but he would do as he was told. He’d better get his shit together.
But those eyes… That hair… Her straight posture and coy smile.
Involuntarily, he shuddered, covering it with a gesture to smooth over the hated indigo cape.
Focus, Nicholen. You career is at stake here.