“Certainly not!” Rissa exclaimed. “Well, that is, he does probably have enough Royal blood in his veins,” she backpedaled. “But I don’t think the Steward would seriously consider him.” She lowered her voice. “He has a dreadful reputation.”
“In what way?” James asked. “I thought it was only females who were concerned with their reputations on your planet.”
“Well, a female reputation is much more easily sullied and ruined,” Rissa told him. “But there are some things that can sully a male reputation as well.”
“What things?” James asked. “What has he done to, er, sully his reputation?”
Rissa’s cheeks got hot and she looked around the room, trying to make certain no one was listening to them.
“The…the maids will not go to his room at night,” she murmured.
The big Kindred raised his eyebrows.
“Why not?”
“Is it not obvious? Because he tries to…to kiss them. On the mouth,” Rissa hissed. “And you know what that leads to!”
She could feel her cheeks getting even hotter. She could not believe she was discussing such things—especially with a man. But then she reminded herself again that James was just a kind of robot and he was only trying to understand the customs of her planet. Still, it was quite embarrassing to be saying such things aloud.
The big Kindred’s frown deepened.
“So…he has tried to force his attentions on unwilling females?”
“That is the rumor, yes.” Rissa nodded.
James’s face was like a thundercloud now.
“Then you’re never dancing with him again!” he growled. “I won’t have such a male anywhere near you, Princess!”
“Oh, he would never try such a thing with me!” Rissa protested, shocked at the idea.
She had a fleeting moment of unease, as she thought of Prunella, but then she pushed it aside. Prunella had not been heir to the throne of all of Regalia Five. Duke Grabbington would certainly not dare to try kissing Rissa, the way he doubtless had the other poor girl.
“Such males will try anything they think they can get away with.” James’s face was dark with what appeared to be anger and disgust—though he wasn’t supposed to have any emotions. “I don’t want him anywhere near you,” he went on, frowning at Rissa.
“I can hardly help being near him if I have to dance with him,” she pointed out. “And anyway, he can’t try anything on the dance floor.”
“He was holding you much too tightly and making you uncomfortable,” James pointed out. “What makes you think he won’t try something worse if you dance with him again?”
“Because we’re in public!” Rissa exclaimed, nodding around the room. “Just look at this—the entire Court is nothing but a rumor mill. He cannot do anything to me with so many people watching.” She sighed as she spotted the approaching figure of the Duke. “Speaking of which, here he comes again. I suppose he thinks I have had enough time to cool down and now chooses to demand I dance with him again.”
“The Seven Hells he will.” The look on the big Kindred’s face was positively dangerous. He rose to his full height and took Rissa by the hand. Pulling her close to his side, he put an arm around her shoulders possessively and glared at the approaching Duke.
For a moment, she wished she could melt into his side and press her face to his broad, muscular chest, but that was absolutely impossible.
“Sir James, no!” she exclaimed, shrugging off his arm and taking a step away to put a proper distance between them. “You must not touch me so—it is most improper.”
He frowned.
“I’m trying to protect you—to show the Duke that you’re m…” He trailed off for a moment, frowning. “That you’re not free to dance,” he finished at last.
Rissa wondered what he had been going to say, but at that moment, Duke Grabbington arrived. He made another sweeping bow and said, with a smirk on his moist red lips,
“My dear Princess, you appear much refreshed—no longer overheated at all. I trust I may engage you for the next dance or three?”
Rissa’s heart sank but she opened her mouth to agree politely—after all, what else could she do? But before she could speak, James said,
“I think not. The Princess will be dancing with me for the next dance.”
“What?” Rissa stared up at him but he was already sweeping her onto the dance floor. “I thought you said you cannot dance!” she protested as he moved her into position and the music began.
“I couldn’t before the ball,” he said shortly. “But while watching you earlier, I analyzed the dance patterns. They’re not difficult to copy.”
Indeed, he was doing an excellent job, moving her expertly around the floor, not missing a step. He was remarkably light on his feet for such a large man, she thought.
Rissa danced automatically herself—she had been taking lessons from the age of two and could have done any of the popular dances in her sleep. But she couldn’t believe that the big Kindred had learned so quickly, just from watching!