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James frowned.

“You were perfectly within your rights to refuse unsuitable suitors. Why would the Steward pick males of such wrong ages in the first place?”

Rissa shrugged.

“I do not know. Possibly because he is old and tired and doesn’t remember what it’s like to be young and wish for someone you care for to hold you.”

She looked up at him shyly, thinking of how the big Kindred had held her all night. Then she reminded herself that James was a cyborg without emotions and holding her had probably meant nothing to him. Besides, he would never be approved as a suitor—he had no Royal blood at all and his skin had not the least bit of Sheen to it.

“Well, I think you ought to find out more about the slaking process so you can choose a suitor accordingly,” he said decisively.

“Oh, but that is forbidden knowledge!” Rissa protested.

James frowned again.

“No knowledge about your own body should be forbidden to you,” he growled. “It’s ridiculous! It’s—”

But just then there was a brisk rapping at the door and Liza stuck her head in again.

“Oh my Lady!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “You’re wanted in the Throne Room at once!”

“The Throne Room? At this time of day?” Rissa frowned. “Whatever for, Liza?”

“It’s the Steward, himself!” Liza’s eyes were wide. “Whispers among the servants have it that he’s read the latest Breadcrumbs and he didn’t like what Lady TittleTattle had to say about rumors flying against him for not finding you the right kind of suitors!”

“Really?” Rissa was already on her feet. “I didn’t know my Uncle read the Crumbs.”

“Well, it seems he does, my Lady,” Liza exclaimed. “And rumor has it he’s set to announce a new suitor for you right away!”

Then she scurried away, leaving Rissa feeling breathless and slightly ill.

15

“You’re overheating, Princess.”

James looked at her flushed face in concern as he helped her fit the elaborately curled silver-white wig over her own hair, which had been bundled up into a skull cap. It was the smallest wig he could find, but it would still put much more weight than he liked on her delicate neck. And now she was pink-cheeked and panting, adding to his worry for her.

“I am quite well, James,” she said, which was an obvious lie. “It’s only that I am so nervous as to who my Uncle should have chosen for me! If I don’t like them, I am obliged to wait an entire month before I can refuse them and he can name another. And I don’t know if my Heat Cycle will allow me to wait that long!”

“Here, let me cool you down. Just sit quietly for a minute,” James instructed. Taking her by the shoulders, he pushed her gently down into the dressing room chair and began to cool his hands.

“But my Uncle…the Throne Room,” she began.

“You’re all ready to go so we have a little time,” James said firmly. “Enough time for me to cool you down, Princess.”

They already had her dressed in a pure white gown with pearl beading and a long cape attached at the shoulders. She had been forced to wear the ice gel packs over her nipples as well, because though they had been cool all morning, they had begun heating up at once as soon as Ka’rissa had been summoned to the Throne Room for the announcement of a new suitor.

James was beginning to think that her Heat Cycle was tied to the messy emotions all feelers had to contend with. If only he could help her by installing an emotion damper like his own, he felt fairly certain that would take care of her problem.

But when he thought of her lively, lovely face without emotions, he found he couldn’t really wish that at all. Ka’rissa smiling was a delight to see and when she laughed, it gave him that warm feeling in his chest that he was beginning to enjoy very much. Even when she was sobbing she was lovely, he thought, as he stroked both hands—which he had chilled for the purpose—over her face and neck, which were hot and feverish to the touch.

“Oh James, thank you,” she whispered and he felt some of her heat fading. “You are so good to me.”

“I am here to protect you, Princess—both from outside threats and those which come from within,” he told her. “But I still say we must find another way to control your Heat Cycle. I’m concerned that you might heat up past the point where I can cool you down just by touching your face.”

“The only way to control it is to marry.” She looked up at him again, her lovely amber-brown eyes filled with worry. “I do hope my Uncle has chosen someone who isn’t too old or too young or too awful this time!”

James frowned as he slowly withdrew his hands.


Tags: Evangeline Anderson Science Fiction