B’sheer watched his charge work on the sheets of questionnaires set before her, his heart heavy with sadness. He had watch this urchin from the streets blossom into a fine young lady, and had come to love her the way he imagined a father might love his child.
“She knew the purpose for the testing was fake.” General A’nden whispered to him out in the hall before he left.
“She has always known more than she should.”
“She must not know this. We cannot give the Emperor any advantage over us.”
“So we sacrifice her?”
A’nden hesitated. “I intended another future for her.” He stared at the closed door as if he could see her through it. “But she will lack for nothing.”
B’sheer couldn’t even nod. The General went to his own appointments, and B’sheer entered the room, pretending not to watch her as he returned to his desk. She ignored him, her mind as closed as a prison gate. In that moment, he held gratitude for only one thing—the Xantis Tey prince seemed to be nowhere near.
The silence in the room disturbed him. Always before, except when engrossed in reading, she interrupted the silence with questions, searching for his opinion. She paid attention when he answered, taking his thoughts more seriously than any of his former students or clients. But now, even with a light probe, all he met was her shield.
An exceptional shield, that one. None penetrated it, even on the day she arrived as a twelve-year-old child. He caught few things about her that she wasn’t willing to share. Still, even though she hid it from her father, she never hid her intelligence from him. With her father, she acted more child-like. With him, she hid nothing, at least not her capacity to learn anything he taught.
Everything felt on edge today. Indeed, he realized, the whole world rested on what happened tonight. Under the pretense of needing extra guards because of the extraordinary number of guests, her father tasked her guards to keep her from disappearing into Null. Even so, she still managed it. If she refused to cooperate, who knew what the Emperor might do?
B’sheer had heard stories. All of them had. With his eye on Sector Five, the only Sector that forbade slavery, the Emperor had decided to make it his capitol City. He wasn’t above simply taking over, the Charter he was supposed to follow be hanged. He was Xantis Tey. He ruled absolutely, or thought he did. But B’sheer and her father knew Chalatta. If she ever got wind of what was about to happen, she would disappear, and no one would find her. The one thing that kept her in line, aside from the fact that she was Krindarwee, and it wasn’t like her people to rebel, was her trust in all of them. She believed all the adults around her loved her, and they did, but sometimes forces existed outside their control.
B’sheer’s attention was stolen by a sudden splotch of water on his desk. A tear? How long ago had he felt the urge to cry? He stopped the next one before anyone noticed, although he couldn’t stop the heaviness and burning in his chest. He pulled out some papers and pretended to work on them. They were old accounts, previous clients, their issues long settled. Sometimes it helped to save old paperwork. They made a good cover when he longed to be alone with his thoughts, or when he needed to hide his actions from others, or, in this case, his reactions to events beyond his control.
As he busied himself by making notes in the margins, Intergalactic Faj Prince, Salettin ba Tir, son of the Emperor and Empress Orvinet ba Tir, rulers of Nevia II, entered the room, wearing his usual sardonic grin. B’sheer hated few people, but he hated this young prince.