“Is the Steward really the kin of either your mother or father?”
“Oh, no.” She shook her head and then had to put up a hand to steady her wig. “He was my dear Papa’s butler and he was named in his will as Steward if Papa should die. Many of the Nobles put up a fuss about it—I mean, a commoner and a servant without a drop of Royal blood ruling the planet? They were shocked!” she went on. “But then they came to see it as wisdom. For a faithful servant would never try to steal the throne for himself—he would only hold it in trust for the correct heir.”
“What about your mother, the Queen?” James asked. “Why couldn’t she ascend to the throne after your father died?”
“Oh, because the blood of the Very First Family came from my Father’s side,” Ka’rissa explained. “She needed to marry another Royal in order to hold the throne, but before a suitable one could be found, she…she combusted,” she finished in a whisper.
“I’m very sorry about the loss of your mother,” James said. Though he had never had a mother himself, he had seen how very much the other Kindred warriors who did esteemed and loved their own mothers. They seemed to be special people who had a great and important influence on the children they raised.
“At the time there was a bit of a scandal, because the Steward didn’t find a single suitor fit for my dear Mama—not even one from the Second Court,” Ka’rissa told him. “Some people said he wanted to keep the throne for himself, but that’s ridiculous of course. A servant can’t hold the throne—not forever, anyway,” she added.
“What is the ‘Second Court?’” James asked.
“Oh, it’s on the other side of the planet. There are plenty of people with Royal blood there, though I don’t know if any of them come from the Very First Family,” the Princess explained. “I wonder if the Steward has found me a suitor from there,” she added pensively. “Someone I don’t know, but who has Royal blood.”
“I suppose we’ll find out,” James said neutrally. But inside, it felt as though someone was simultaneously squeezing his heart and filling his stomach with cubes of ice. He didn’t like the idea of the Princess with another male—which was ridiculous and verging perilously close to having emotions, he was well aware.
But no matter how often he told himself that, he couldn’t seem to stop the sensations that swamped him. Still, he kept his face and tone neutral, though it was a struggle to do so.
This is my mission, he reminded himself. I’m only here to watch over Ka’rissa until she finds a mate and Joins with him. And that mate can never be me.
But he still wasn’t what the feelers called “happy” as they finally left her quarters and went down to the Throne Room to find who the Steward had selected to be her new suitor.
16
Rissa felt weak in the knees as she waited at the foot of the dais that held the tall, golden double throne where her father and mother used to sit. Her mind was filled with questions.
Who was waiting behind the double golden doors of the side entrance to the Throne Room? Who would the Steward approve to be her suitor? Would she like him? Would he be closer to her age, at least?
Rissa hoped desperately that she didn’t have to deal with another male who was either fifty years her senior or fifteen years her junior. It had been so awkward meeting both of her previous suitors and she had known at once that she couldn’t pick either of them. Yet, by the rules of the Court, she had been forced to wait an entire month, dancing with both every night and making polite small talk, until she could formally refuse them.
It had been quite excruciating in both cases and had taken up two valuable months of her time as her Heat Cycle grew ever worse. At one point, Rissa had even considered taking the older suitor—a Lord Hearwhat—as her consort, simply because she feared she might go up in flames in her bed one night if she didn’t have someone to slake her Heat.
But in the end, she couldn’t bear the thought of those thin, spittle-flecked lips pressed to hers or his liver-spotted hands crawling over her flesh. That was when she’d begun taking more than once cold bath a day and using the ice gel packs on her points.
Now she hoped desperately that the Steward had found her a man she could bear to be with, so that she could at last conquer her Heat Cycle and ascend the throne.
But no matter who he picks, it won’t be James, whispered a little voice in her head. And you know you won’t like whoever it is nearly as much as James.