A Forest of Stars - Kevin J. Anderson [119]
59
KING PETER
King Peter’s selection of a bride should have been a joyous occasion, but Basil Wenceslas, with smug confidence and autocratic style, ruined the entire event. “You might as well be pleased with it,” he said, giving Peter a sharp look, “because there’s nothing you can do to change the matter.”
The young King slumped into a comfortable seat in the Chairman’s HQ penthouse offices. Peter wore the royal crown—yet Basil could snap his fingers and royal guards would hustle the King through underground passages to the pyramidal corporate headquarters.
“Why are you frowning, young man? The Hansa considers this a reward for your years of adequate service. You deserve a blushing young bride, a lovely body to warm your bed at night, to keep you company when you have no other royal duties.” Basil sounded frustrated.
Despite years of brainwashing attempts, Peter had stopped being tempted by the magnificent lifestyle with its comforts, fine foods, and diversions. “Let’s not pretend that you’re rewarding me, Basil. Everything you do is for the Hansa. Do you think you can manipulate me more easily with a Queen? Is she a spy of yours, someone who can slip a knife in my back some night if you get annoyed with me?”
“Estarra of Theroc?” Basil laughed, then wagged his finger back and forth. “Peter, the acquisition of your bride and the resultant advantages—both for yourself and for the Hansa—have nothing to do with keeping you in line. You are simply playing a role at my command. Don’t forget who you are.”
Peter narrowed his blue eyes. “I won’t forget.” I am what you made me. You caused the transformation, Basil. Whether you like it or not, I am no longer Raymond Aguerra. I am King Peter.
“So, who is this Estarra of Theroc?” Peter asked, pretending acquiescence.
“She is offered as a marriage alliance with the Therons. It may sound somewhat medieval, but such things have been happening in politics since the dawn of civilization. In fact, some might call it an honorable tradition. It has certainly averted plenty of wars.”
“In that case, maybe you should arrange for me to marry a hydrogue princess.”
“Don’t tempt me, or I may do exactly that,” he said with a completely humorless smile. “I just attended the ceremony in which Ambassador Sarein’s brother Reynald was named the new Father of Theroc. Now his younger sister Estarra has reached marriageable age, and she is an excellent match for you. Trust me, she’s perfect.”
Trust me? “As I recall, King Frederick never had a royal marriage. Neither did Bartholomew, though one or two of the earlier Kings had a token Queen.”
Basil leaned across his desk, looking stern. “None of the others reigned during a war. We’ve had over five years of privation since the ekti embargo was imposed. This wedding will boost morale, and we can milk it for months. Sarein stayed on Theroc to attend to several important details, but she is returning soon—with Estarra. From what I can tell, she’s quite”—he waved his hand with a small flourish—“adorable and charming. The people will love her.”
“Just as they love me,” Peter said ironically. “You’ve made certain of that.” Knowing he was defeated and wanting to talk over the matter with OX, Peter heaved a heavy sigh. “Let me see what she looks like.”
Basil handed him a flatscreen, on which an image dissolved through several different candid portraits, some solemn, some staring off into the distance. Estarra had a pert nose, pointed chin, and pale brown skin. Her hair had been pulled into an arrangement of slender stylized twists and adorned with colorful threads. Her eyes were enormous and captivating. Whether through some trick of photography or because of a sudden imaginary connection, Peter thought she was staring at him. Estarra was striking. She looked innocent, but not at all vapid or stupid. That was a relief, at least.
“She’s beautiful, Basil, I’ll give you that. I look forward to meeting her…and I’ll