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  Carina hated him for that. Hated him for telling her she wasn’t good enough because she was female. For telling her mother she was of no real use to him because the sons she’d given him hadn’t been enough. For bullying his new wife so much she rarely said a single word and avoided all eye contact. Hated him for being the source of so much terror and suffering, and for making her be a party to it simply because of who she was.

  Ciro Fardelle’s entire life was primarily grand theater. Much like her own, she supposed. Only he played a life-and-death game and didn’t seem to be moved by that at all. Carina had often thought her father acted like a small child who wanted cake, but as history often showed, he had so much power no one dared deny it to him. This tendency had become excessive over the last three Imperial years. Showing no indication that he understood how to pull back from this gorging of power, she despaired of the cost of his behavior.

  Lacking intelligence but not cunning and merciless greed for power, his hold on leadership of the Imperium had been absolute until this ridiculous aggression he continued to show toward the Federation Universes. He’d only gotten worse as the advisors of old had given way to new men in his inner circle. And now those advisors controlled just about every aspect of governance of Imperial law all across the Imperial Universes.

  The men around him were dangerous, devoid of compassion and filled with a greed for power that left her in a cold sweat when she thought about it overmuch.

  In his presence she was not the Carina who had those thoughts. In truth, her life was an act, too, though she had the intelligence to understand the gravity of her behavior. She was better than her father, better than his cadre of hard men who liked to inflict pain for sport. But her noble intentions wouldn’t save her if she let her guard down and made a mistake.

  As she turned the corner to enter his office, she reached up, flipped her hair back over one shoulder and stood tall. A beautiful woman would never stoop. She kept her eyes on her father on that ridiculous throne and smiled with a cock of her head and a flutter of her lashes. He warmed a moment, smiling back as he stood, holding his hands out. Something deep inside her wanted it to be real, but died a bit more when she remembered it never would be.

  “Darling Carina. Come in and greet Hartley Alem, I’ve just signed papers allowing him to court you.”

  Her mother’s hand on the small of her back reminded her not to let go of the illusion, but it was a trial not to spit in his face or to run screaming from the room. Instead, she turned to Hartley Alem, one of her father’s advisors, a man who’d engineered the bombing of several Federation outposts, a man who had his own personal torture chamber built into his home in the most inappropriately named Fortuna, a ’Verse several portals away.

  It was to this man her father had given her like a piece of jewelry. It wasn’t unexpected; after all, he’d been trying to marry her off for years. But it still shook her up. It was a vital reminder of what she was and what she meant. She was nothing but a chip to be traded. All for power. Hartley had wanted her, and her father wanted the power Hartley enabled him to keep. So he traded her away. Her mother had protected her the last three times he’d tried this, but they both knew it would happen eventually.

  Obviously, this was what her mother had warned her about. Swallowing the bile that’d risen, she forged ahead. “Do you believe yourself worthy of me, Minister Alem?” she asked, astonished her voice didn’t falter. He actually giggled, and nausea roiled through her. She’d never been this close to losing it before, had never felt so bereft and adrift. This was the one last thing; her limit had been reached. It sent her spinning as she furiously worked through how to feel about it. And then she began to plan.

  Hartley reminded her of the flat-faced, hugely muscled dogs the stableman kept in the compound to curtail the snakes. He was big and blunt and tried to hide his true nature with frilly clothing and so much jewelry he should have groaned at the weight. His pale eyes were bright as they darted over her body, lingering on her breasts. A sheen of sweat clung to his brow, and his fingers, heavy with large jeweled rings, twitched as he held back his impulse, thank the gods, to touch her. As his wife, she’d be at his side, attending to him as little more than a personal assistant. The idea of hand-feeding him repulsed her nearly as much as his touching her in a sexual manner. It could not be her fate to be tied to this man.

  “That is my sincere hope, my dear. Allow me to escort you to our meal.” He held out an arm and she placed a hand on it, allowing him to lead the way to the dining room where the late afternoon meal waited.

  She and her mother held the higher place of honor than Aila, the second wife, but she seemed to prefer the far end of the table anyway, and Carina envied that distance. As Carina’s brother got older, he’d sit there at her father’s right hand, his mother where Carina’s mother now sat.

  She saw her own future as she thought about how her mother would keep to her rooms more and more, her power fading as Carina was too far away to help and dependent on the whims of a brute. If she was lucky, she’d be able to convince Hartley to have her mother live in Fortuna. Most likely she’d need to get pregnant before he’d even consider it.

  Internally she shuddered in disgust.

  Carina just concentrated on serving the food to her father and Hartley. She hummed her agreement every few minutes and pushed her food around enough to give an appearance of eating. Hartley seemed mollified by being served by her, so he turned his attentions back to Ciro, and Carina breathed a sigh of relief.

  Her life wasn’t all bad. There were lovely things in her world, too. People who cared about her, took care of her. The table had been laid out beautifully. She did so love this part of their house, loved the staff who took such good care of her, had done since she was born. She sighted many of her favorites littering the menu. Roasted root vegetables with spiced oil, fresh loaves of bread, fried fish and game and sweet cakes to end with. The colors and scents dizzied her senses and she smiled, ever mindful to keep to a smirk rather than a full smile. But it pleased her, the way the table looked, the ritual of breaking bread with one’s community. All this would be wonderful if it were only with other people somewhere else.

  Carina desperately wanted to speak to her mother about this situation and what she was going to do about it. Fear and panic ate her insides as she kept a serene face. Her mother’s eyes remained cast downward for most of the meal, just like her father preferred it, but she knew her attention was on a solution for Carina. That connection, the love and trust they had, had saved her sanity many times over her life.

  Even so, the thought of that being her life, her future, a future of downcast eyes, of whatever sick, twisted bed sport Hartley preferred, of bearing children and having them be indoctrinated the way all children were, made her feel like bolting her lunch.

  She pretended interest and made small talk, the passage of time slow and sticky. Thankfully, once the food had been cleared, Carina’s mother stood up and smiled at her husband and then to her daughter. “I believe it’s time for Carina to take her leave. She and I have plans for the evening.” Esta curtsied deeply. “Thank you, dear husband, for this meal. Thank you, Aila for gracing our table.” She looked down the table at Ciro’s other woman and bowed. “Minister Alem, it will be our pleasure to watch you capture the heart of our daughter.”

  Alem took her mother’s hand and kissed her knuckles. Carina desperately wanted to give in to a full body shudder. Instead, she allowed him to kiss her cheek before nodding to her father and the others at the table and following her mother from the room, her guards trailing behind them.

  Her mother put a finger to her lips until she’d closed not only the outer doors to Carina’s common rooms but also her bedroom. Her personal maid swept the space for listening devices on a regular basis, so she knew it was as safe a spot as any to speak openly.

  Carina spun, yanking her hair free of the fripperies holding the fall of cascading curls. “No.” She didn’t yell, she didn’t throw
herself on the floor and howl, she simply said it with all her might. “There are things I am willing to endure, this is not one of them. Not without a fight.”

  “I had a feeling when I saw all the spirits he’d ordered served at the luncheon. But I didn’t know for sure. Gods help me, Carina, he kept it from me, elsewise I’d have said. I’d planned to talk to him about it earlier, but he was surrounded by his people, and I got distracted by something else.”

  The last thing she wanted to do was add to her mother’s list of things to feel guilty over. “I know that. I’d never think anything else. But it doesn’t matter. You couldn’t intervene forever. It was bound to happen at some point. None of that changes what is happening right now.”

  Her mother drew her into a hug, kissing her cheeks. “You are right. This will move at a fast clip. Hartley Alem will not be swayed; he’s wanted you since you were but a girl, and your father will need him now more than ever.” Esta began to pace.

  “Now that he’s gone and messed up this whole situation with the Federation you mean?” Carina whispered harshly.

  Her mother swallowed hard and nodded. “The skirmishes on the border grow worse by the tide. He draws us into a war that will cost many lives. You have no idea what he’s capable of. What he’s planning. This is not the place for you anymore. I have something. I know where we might get some help. We should be able to buy your way across.” Across to the Federation.

  Could she do it? Be free of a man she loathed and feared since before she could walk? Be free of a system seemingly obsessed with repressing her citizens with such brutality it stole her breath? Yes.

  Carina had given bits and pieces of information to Claira, her maid, for the last several years. Carina had a strong feeling Claira knew Vincenz somehow. They never spoke of it or of what happened to any of the information she passed along. It would mean torture and death for both if they were found out. But since the moment Carina had figured out Claira’s leanings and she’d let slip her ability to help out here and there, Carina had felt a small bit of hope every time she’d sent a packet away.

  “What is it?” she asked quietly, moving closer to her mother.

  “I can’t tell what it all is. The data is encrypted beyond anything I can untangle without the proper decoding program. What I could see from documents referring to the main data is that they’re plans. He’s building something. There are references to a laboratory. He’s had those men from his so-called science ministry here. It’s dire enough that he’s got it in a program more complicated than I’ve ever seen before.”

  Carina’s respect of her mother only grew, thinking about how long she’d been fighting back in her own way against Ciro Fardelle’s tyranny. If her mother was this afraid, whatever it was, was very bad indeed.

  “All right then.” She’d need to move now, no matter what. This information needed to be given to the right people. “I know who I can get it to if you can’t contact your source.”

  Her mother simply nodded. “I will see what I can do. You contact your person, too, and we’ll go with whatever we can get. We cannot fail now; we have to move forward as quickly as possible. The information I have will be enough, no matter who we can get to aid us. I’d planned to get it to them anyway; it’s imperative. This is meant to be. You must go; they need to know, and this will be the key to getting you there. The gods are watching over you, Carina. You have a destiny far, far greater than being a mere pretty bauble on a tyrant’s arm.”

  Just what was her father doing? Did she even want to know? “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right then, I agree.”

  “The laundry in the stables at moonrise, I’ll bring it there. I’ve loaded it into a subdermal chip so you can carry it undetected. Even better, they can’t get at the data unless you’re alive, which gives them great incentive to keep you that way. You’ll get it where it needs to go and deliver the message that the price for such a prize is your freedom.”

  “If he finds out . . .” Carina let the words trail off.

  “What else could he do that would be worse than watching him trade you to a monster like Alem? Do not hesitate in this. You cannot. If you do, you will fail, and we will all be doomed. He won’t stop. He gets worse every day. He has lost all sanity. If we don’t stop him, no one will. War is coming. Can’t you feel it? Even here, can’t you? You. Must. Go.”

  Her muscles hurt from the strain of forcing herself not to shake, and she built a wall around her feelings. “We have to see how they respond. If they agree, we insist you come, too, make it part of the agreement. If it’s dangerous for me, what is it for you? You’re in danger as well.”

  Her mother shook her head slowly. “We both know this information is more than enough. It will pay your way across and then some. Which is what I shall demand. As for me coming along, it can’t happen. I will stay here and keep them diverted as long as I can.” She paused. “This is my place, Carina.” She pressed her lips together as Carina’s world began to fall apart. “Your path lies out there. You will save us because you are meant to. My path lies elsewhere. Here.” She took a deep breath and stood tall. “I’m off. I’ll see you at moonrise.”

  With that, Carina watched her mother leave as her heart tumbled into her belly.

  Her legs gave way, and she simply slid to the floor. Could she leave her mother behind? Her innocent baby brother? Her people? In truth, she had much love for her people, not so much the nobles who fawned over her father and executed his every whim, but the everyday people she knew here in the Fardelle compound and all around Caelinus. She’d been to most every ’Verse in the Imperial territories and had met people from all walks of life. Would leaving them mean turning her back? Didn’t she have a duty to them? To stay?

  Carina had few options. As a female, her status was that of her father’s until she married. And then it would be the status of her husband. She had no power outside that. Her father would not protect her once she accepted a marriage contract. Vincenz tried to help, tried to make change, and look what had happened to him. Though she held out hope, she wasn’t entirely sure her big brother was alive anymore. Though his name had been erased, what he’d done remained burned in her father’s every action. Teams of assassins still hunted Vincenz down. She had to hold on to her belief that he was out there and working hard, at least living a good life. After all, her father still had assassins on his trail. But reality told her he had a good chance of being dead, too.

  The scent of her mother’s perfume hung in the air, and Carina felt as if everything was slipping through her fingers like smoke.

  She wanted to do the right thing. Pushing to her feet, she began to pace the small room. She’d taken the easy way before, each time when she remained silent to avoid causing a stir. She wasn’t proud that she hadn’t led a revolution, but she didn’t have to give up. She was faced with the opportunity to act and do her duty.

  Staying and marrying Alem wouldn’t help them. Her father seemed set on this insanity of provoking the Federation, and war wasn’t just a far-off idea, but each rise of the suns brought it closer. Her people would suffer if she couldn’t do something, and it didn’t hurt that she’d be far away from her father’s plans to join her life with that of a sadist.

  The contents of that data, even the little they did know, was terrifying. What had her father done? And what of her mother if she got caught?

  Her mother raised her to be strong even in the face of challenges. This was the biggest one of her life, and it was up to her to make something of it.

  She used the call to summon Claira as she began to pace.

  Chapter 3

  Carina left her guards outside the door, retreating into her bedchamber and closing those doors as well. In the pale light she crossed to her wardrobe, pushing it aside so she could stuff herself through the small space behind it. Sucking her belly in, she pressed the depression in the floorboard, exposing a crawl space. Pulling the wardrobe back into place, she turned
and moved down the narrow hall until she reached the hidden passageway just beyond.

  Here it was blessedly cool, the thickness of the stone around them deflecting the heat. There had been many times she’d come here just to enjoy a few minutes of total privacy. The silence and the solace embraced her, calmed her. Reminded her how rare such things were in her life.

  As children, she and Vincenz had used these secret spaces to move about the compound without notice of their parents or the guards. YaYa, their grandmother, had shown them the entrance in Vincenz’s rooms. Only later did they find the one in the rear of Carina’s bedchamber.

  It was impossible not to think fondly on those nights she and her brother had snuck down to the stables to give fruit to the animals and to play with the children of the staff. Oh, Vincenz, she sighed, missing him, wishing he were there to help make things right. She was really frightened of making a mistake. He’d know what to do.

  But he wasn’t there. There was no one else to do this but her, and she needed to buck up and do it. The Fardelle women were stronger than most knew. Her mother was taking great risks for Carina that very moment. YaYa had been the bravest person Carina knew. If they could do it, she could. She had to.

  It made a depressing sort of sense that the Fardelle women were always looking for a way to escape. YaYa, her paternal grandmother, had given birth to sixteen children and had insisted on raising them all herself. There were no wet nurses or nannies. But her grandfather had removed all his sons from her care when they’d been old enough to begin military training. Later, Esta was sent there as in infant, having been contracted to marry the oldest Fardelle when he reached the age of majority, and YaYa had become Esta’s mother, too.

  Women didn’t always fare well in their world. Her grandmother had disappeared shortly after Vincenz had escaped. One day she’d been there, running the household with her signature efficiency, and the next, she was gone.