A Forest of Stars - Kevin J. Anderson [224]
“Daniel is not my brother,” Peter said, derailing all of her other questions.
“What do you mean? I was beginning to open up to you, Peter. Now I learn that—”
“My name’s not Peter, either,” he interrupted. “This is going to take a while.”
Later, they lay naked next to each other, languidly comfortable on soft sheets, the room lit only by pastel glows of distant torches. Estarra clung to Peter, still feeling the deep ache from Beneto’s death.
While he caressed her as a husband and a lover, instead of as King, they both talked at length, glad to have someone with whom they could share. Peter ran his fingertips along the left side of her face, across her eyebrows and then down her cheekbones to her chin. He was desperate to have someone he could trust within the byzantine politics and loyalties of the Hansa.
Barely able to believe what he was telling her, but incapable of doubting him, Estarra listened to his husky voice, saw the tears in his eyes—artificially blue eyes, according to his story. He told her how he had been kidnapped years ago and held in hiding while Basil groomed him to become the next King. “I only discovered later that the Hansa intentionally killed my family.”
Her eyes were wide. “Do you think we’re in any danger?”
He kissed her warm shoulder. “Yes, Basil has made veiled threats—against you, to keep me in line, and against me directly. I never thought he would take such a chance before, but now that he’s introduced Daniel, I’m not so sure. Maybe I’ve already done too much damage. Basil controls enough that he could poison us or stage an ‘accident’ anytime he likes.”
Estarra pulled him close, offering her strength and feeling the warmth of his body against hers. Maybe she could talk to Sarein about this…or maybe not. “Then we’ll both just have to keep our eyes open.”
Still, she felt like a very small fly in the middle of an extremely large web.
116
OSIRA’H
Even during nighttime on Dobro, blazers and interior illumination strips lit the Designate’s residence with all the brilliance and safety of day. Osira’h never had cause to worry.
The seasonal wildfires had been extinguished by loyal camp workers, but the air still smelled unpleasantly of smoke and ash. The simmering coals in the burned, desolated area occasionally glowed orange in the shadows.
The young half-breed girl stood at the window in the upper level of Udru’h‘s residence, the only home she had ever known. From here, she could make out the embroidery of lights that marked the breeding barracks.
“There you are,” said Udru’h in his rich, strong voice. “I should have known I’d find you looking out the windows again.”
Osira’h smiled at him, her large eyes sparkling. “And thinking.” And trying to understand the strange presence, the vague longing thoughts that seem to emanate from somewhere in the camp.
An hour ago, they’d had a fine meal together, just the two of them, in a small dining alcove. The Designate did not enjoy gaudy ceremonies and frivolous decorations; he often liked to eat his dinner with Osira’h, especially when she had done a particularly good job in her training exercises for the day.
He was never harsh with her, never angry, but never lax, either. From the time Osira’h could speak, he had drilled her and encouraged her, making certain the little girl understood with her whole being that the fate of the Ildiran Empire might rest upon her abilities to merge Ildiran and hydrogue. She could not let him down.
Osira’h took a deep breath, feeling pride swell her chest. She wanted nothing more than to please him. “I like looking out there, as far as I can see. It makes me think of everything far away. Someday, will we go to Ildira so I can visit my grandfather the Mage-Imperator? I would like to see the PrismPalace.”
The Dobro Designate gave her a small but significant smile. “In the best of times, we can show you all the glory of the Empire, Osira’h.” Then his face grew somber. “But if you and I fail now, there won’t be an Empire left to see.”
He put his hand on her shoulder.