Scattered Suns - Kevin J. Anderson [9]
Even though theirs had been an arranged marriage, a political alliance, Peter loved her desperately. Estarra—having been plunged into the same strange world of governmental alliances, manipulations, and power struggles as he—had opened herself to him, and now they shared their hearts, their secrets, and their plans.
Basil Wenceslas did not know the half of his problems.
In the grand reception halls of the WhisperPalace, guests reveled far into the night, listening to music, offering toasts. Protocol officers had coached the King and Queen in every moment of the evening. Polite and acceptably sociable, the royal couple spent the correct amount of time with each important guest, but they remained only as long as was politically necessary. By the time Peter and Estarra returned to the Royal Wing, both of them were exhausted and edgy.
Over the past several months, Chairman Wenceslas had been annoyingly effective at cutting Peter out of any real participation in Hansa politics. Like Old King Frederick before him, Peter’s place was merely for show, and the Chairman never let him forget it. When he tried to think for himself, when he attempted to be a real leader instead of a puppet in a colorful costume, Basil punished him severely. During his youth, Peter had not truly appreciated his freedom. Back then he had been poor, but happy, with a loving family, taking pleasure in the small joys of daily life. But he knew full well he could never slip away, nor could he go back to being the street-smart commoner he had once been.
Now he was trapped, friendless except for Estarra and possibly the Teacher compy OX. And he had to be very, very careful. Basil had already tried to assassinate him once.
The couple had no sanctuary even in the WhisperPalace. When they reached their private quarters, Peter and Estarra found the Chairman waiting there. He too had slipped away from the reception just long enough to ambush them.
Dapper and unflappable, Basil sat in Peter’s favorite comfortable chair. In an adjacent chair by a small table, Eldred Cain hunched over papers and a datapad. The pale and hairless deputy paused in his discussion of details with the Chairman; it seemed he took advantage of every free moment. Seeing the two enter, Cain straightened his papers and stored the analysis in his datapad.
Peter drew a slow breath to cover his surprise and anger at finding the man there. “Why don’t you make yourself at home, Basil?” He modulated his tone, showing only a hint of his displeasure so as not to invoke Basil’s wrath. “Were all the normal conference rooms booked at this time of night?”
Basil rested casually, as if he considered himself welcome anywhere. “Business hours never end in the Hansa, Peter.”
Peter struggled to mask his hostility toward the Chairman, although he would never forgive the man for attempting to kill both him and Estarra, and for orchestrating the murders of his whole innocent family. “Then by all means, let’s get down to business, Basil. It’s been a long day, and I didn’t see your name in my appointment book.”
“I always have an appointment.” Basil marked his place in the report he was reading and handed it to his deputy, who added it to his stack. “I came to inform you of a change in plans. Prepare to embark on an important trip, a visit of state that Hansa officials consider necessary.”
After removing Estarra’s gem-studded shawl for her and draping it over a sculpture of a fat man holding a bowl