He kept to the edge of the woods, so he wouldn’t be seen. If the palace officials or guards found out he was trying to get out of the palace, his entire job would be blown. But through the tree branches he saw a man chasing after a woman and pulling her down onto the ground.
Hall jumped forward, rushing to help her.
It was just instinct. If someone was getting raped or assaulted, you helped if you could. At least, he still did—especially after those weeks he’d spent in prison, where he hadn’t been able to do anything while all manner of cruelty happened around him.
He pulled to a stop when the woman kicked the man’s knees out. That was a very good move, bringing down someone much bigger and stronger than she was. This woman fought hard. You never knew how someone would react to being attacked. Freezing was just as natural an instinct as fight or flight—for both men and women—and that instinct had nothing to do with size or strength.
He started moving again, deciding he still better make sure the man was down for good, but then he saw a couple of the uniformed palace guards approaching with their swords drawn.
The woman was obviously safe now, so Hall stepped back into the shelter of the woods, watching as the guards came over and assisted the woman to her feet.
She was dirty but uninjured, while the man was writhing on the ground in pain.
It was only then that Hall realized the woman was Kyla.
He was relieved she was unharmed, and he was very impressed with her ability to defend herself. But he’d missed his chance to rescue her, to be the hero for her, which was really too bad.
It was like fate had determined that he would never get the chance to know her.
He was tempted to linger, to make sure she was all right and find an opportunity to talk to her, but his brain told him not to. He needed to get into the village so he could meet with Lenna, and the guards would be suspicious if he tried to hang around Kyla.
She was off-limits to him, and it looked like she always would be.
He was slightly shaky from the release of adrenalin from his interrupted charge to the rescue, but he shook it off and turned around.
The job was always the most important thing. He couldn’t afford to let anything else become a priority in his life—not if he was ever going to reach a point where he finally felt free.
***
When the palace guards helped her to her feet, Kyla was trembling so hard she could barely stand.
She recognized both guards, and she knew one of them by name.
Harley scanned her in concern. “Are you all right, Lady Kyla?”
“Yes.” She cleared her throat when her voice broke, and she wrapped her arms around her belly. “But this man needs to be escorted off-world. He obviously can’t follow the rules.”
The guards clearly understood what had happened, and they didn’t hesitate to haul the drunken man up, despite his loud protests, and put him in metal cuffs.
“Do you need help getting back to your room, Lady Kyla?” Harley asked. He was short, stocky, and normally quiet. His eyes were always kind.
“No, thank you. I’m a little shaky, so I think I’ll just walk it off.”
She mostly wanted to be alone. Adrenalin was still coursing through her, and her panic had halted so quickly that she couldn’t physically process it.
Her stomach churned queasily, and she felt a dull throbbing begin behind her right eye.
She needed to calm down quickly or she would get a migraine. She got them often, and they always knocked her out.
When the guards had disappeared with the grumbling would-be rapist, Kyla tried to take deep breaths and pull herself together. She needed to be where she felt safe, and there were only two places in the world where she felt that way. One was in her room. That was too far away, though, so she headed to the other one.
She reached the tree in just a minute, and she started to climb it. She had to move slowly, since she was still trembling from her earlier encounter.
For thirteen years, ever since she’d found this tree at ten years old, she’d sat on a big, flat branch shaped like a seat and looked out over the wall, watching the world go by beneath her.
It was a beautiful day, with warm air, vivid blue sky, and both moons full and visible, hovering just beneath the sun. All of the days here were mostly the same, since they were created by the sophisticated habitation generator, and Kyla was barely conscious of the beauty of her surroundings.
She could still smell that man’s breath. She kept imagining what would have happened if she hadn’t gotten away from him. In an attempt to feel better, she reached for the binoculars she kept hidden in a little hole in the tree.
The gardens of Evalon used to extend all the way around the village and much farther, but they’d been forced to reduce the size of habitable land on the planet a hundred years ago in compliance with Coalition policies about the limits of personal property. Now, the lush and lovely landscape—the white turrets of the palace buildings, fragrant orchards, and vast stretches of lavender fields—was much smaller than it used to be.
Kyla didn’t focus her binoculars on the palace or grounds, though. She focused them on the only road from the palace.
Since it was still early, a lot of the townspeople were still on their way to work in the specialty shops that filled the village. Since motorized vehicles weren’t allowed in the village or palace grounds, except on official business, tourists and locals either walked or were carried in hired litters. The village scene was as it usually was, except for the two guards who were walking that terrible man to the public launch port and docking station on the outskirts of town.
Kyla kept watching them until they were out of sight, blocked by other buildings. She took comfort in the fact that the man would never be allowed to come back to Evalon.
Out of habit, she refocused her lenses on the terrace of an outdoor café that was built high so it would overlook the palace grounds. It was popular with tourists who couldn’t afford to rent rooms in the palace, and she often saw interesting people there. As she scanned over a few families and couples, she wondered what it would be like to eat at the café, to wander the village, to vacation to another planet.
To do anything on her own, without the palace guards as escort.
She never had, and she probably never would. Her life had been dictated by her birthright, just as surely as her sister’s had.
Patrice was born to be the Lady Governor, the head of a decadent Court, the arbiter of taste and culture. She was born to launch a far-ranging search for a consort, something she’d begun more than five years ago now.
Kyla, on the other hand, was born to wilt away in the shadows of the palace, as the backup in case Patrice died before giving birth to a daughter, unable to do anything for herself until Patrice gave birth to an heir.
Kyla glanced over the other tables in the café, deciding to put the binoculars down and head back. She still felt a familiar faint throbbing behind her right eye that warned her a migraine might be coming on. The only way to dull the pain was with an injection she kept in her room. She needed to get back before the migraine came on strong. She was feeling more like herself now anyway, the adrenalin from before starting to dissipate. She gave the café one last sweep, deciding she was steady enough to walk back now, when she recognized a familiar face at the corner table.
He was one of the current Potentials.
There were always twenty or thirty Potentials in Court at any time, and they blended together in Kyla’s mind in a blur of broad shoulders, handsome faces, and fine clothes. The only reason Kyla recognized this man was because he’d been almost chosen as Patrice’s partner for the last two weeks.
He shouldn’t be at the café. Potentials weren’t allowed to leave the palace grounds or be in the company of a woman once they’d declared themselves—not until Patrice had rejected them.
This dark-haired man shouldn’t be here. It was against the law. Kyla straightened up and focused on his
face, unconsciously appreciating the well-chiseled features and charismatic smile. He was incredibly good-looking and had an air of almost unnatural confidence, as if there had never been anything he couldn’t claim. He had smiled and flipped his hands in showy resignation when he hadn’t been chosen last week.
Patrice had been stupid to choose the blond man for her weekly partner instead of this one. The overblown physique and bland handsomeness of the blond wasn’t nearly as compelling as this man.
But what the hell was he doing outside the palace walls?
As Kyla watched, a blond woman approached the table at which he sat. She smiled as she joined him, and they began to speak. The woman was very pretty in a no-nonsense way—in her plain trousers, boots, and jacket—but their conversation didn’t look romantic or even personal. It looked like business.
This man was up to trouble. Something was wrong. He should not be having a business conversation with an unknown woman when he was a Potential in the Court of Evalon.
Kyla searched his face but couldn’t read anything except interest and faint amusement. There must be more going on in his head that she just couldn’t see. She’d spent her life in the shadows, while her sister had gotten all the attention. Kyla knew how to read people. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t read this man.
The conversation only lasted three or four minutes, and then the man got up to leave. It was very strange. Maybe they’d just met up to trade information.
But what kind of information?
Instead of heading toward the closest palace gates, the man started toward the wall. Kyla immediately knew where he was going.
He wasn’t supposed to be outside the walls at all, and there was only one way to get back in without confronting the well-trained guards.
Kyla had found it as a kid and had snuck outside the wall a few times until her punishments after being caught had become painful enough to keep her inside. She had no idea how this man had found it so quickly.
The woods grew right up to the wall in one corner, and vines had grown up all over the stones. In the shade from the trees, one could time it right between the sweeps of the security drones and use the vines to climb up and over the wall.
She headed to the spot and sat down on a bench nearby. She had no idea why she was doing this, except she’d felt helpless when that man had attacked her earlier and now she wanted to do something to make herself feel stronger. She wanted to confront something—or someone.
She only had to wait five minutes before the good-looking, dark-haired man climbed over the wall with a strength and agility that was very impressive.
When he saw her on the bench, she caught a brief flash of surprise that he quickly hid.
This man was definitely a cool customer.
“Good morning,” he said with a broad smile that probably left most women breathless. Up close, she could see that he had remarkably vivid green eyes.
“What are you doing?” she asked, standing up and stepping toward him.
“Exploring.”
“You’re a Potential. You’re not allowed to explore.”
He sighed and gave her another smile, this one adorably sheepish. “Are you going to tell your sister?”
She was surprised he knew who she was. Most people didn’t even notice her. “I don’t know,” she admitted, telling him the truth.
His smile warmed. “I’ll convince you as we walk back to the palace.”
The throbbing behind her eye had intensified in the last few minutes as she’d been distracted by this man’s behavior. But she felt it now again, so strongly she covered her eye with her hand, trying to will the migraine back until she returned to her room.
“What’s wrong?” the man asked, his expression changing.
“Nothing.” She lowered her hand.
He didn’t look convinced. “Did something happen?”
It was like he knew what had happened to her earlier—or almost happened to her—but there was no way that was possible. “Of course not.”
“Let’s head back to the palace.”
“I didn’t invite you to walk with me.”
“Then I’ll walk behind you. We’re heading in the same direction, after all.”
She felt a tug of attraction and appreciation, despite her best efforts to hold this man at a suspicious distance. He must be used to charming the pants off any woman he encountered, but she wasn’t going to be one of those women.
She frowned at him and turned around, starting back to the shortest trail that led to the palace. As promised, he walked behind her, but she was intensely aware of his presence.
It felt like his eyes were running up and down her body.
She was wearing her normal outfit—a long tunic, riding trousers, and the new boots she’d just completed—but she suddenly wished she was dressed more attractively. It was such an unusual feeling for her that she decided her close encounter earlier had completely rattled her.
“I wondered if you could talk,” the man said, after a minute of silence.
She tensed. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I’ve been here two weeks, and I’ve only seen you at Court three times. You’ve never said a word any of those times.”
She felt a shiver of self-consciousness at the knowledge that he’d noticed her so acutely. She covered her right eye with her palm again as she walked. The migraine was coming on quickly. It was going to be full-blown before she reached the palace. She’d been a fool not to head back as soon as she’d noticed the first sign. “How do you know I haven’t said a word?”
“Because I’ve watched you.”
“Not the whole time.”
“No, but enough to notice if you’d spoken to anyone. You haven’t. I found it very strange.”
She was getting tired of his voice coming from behind her, so she paused until he fell in stride with her. “It’s not strange. Court is about Lady Patrice. It’s not about me.”
“Maybe. But other women seem to have a good time. Why not you?”
“It’s not my thing.”
“Pleasure isn’t your thing?”
“Court is not what I enjoy. All that sex and over-indulgence.”
“Sex isn’t you thing?”
She felt her cheeks warming, for no good reason. She wasn’t remotely embarrassed to talk about sex. It had been part of her world and culture since she was twelve years old and she’d first made her presence at Court. She had no idea why she’d be blushing at this man’s blunt question. “No,” she told him, feeling another shiver of fear as she felt the migraine intensifying. “It’s all…empty.”
“So you stopped having sex entirely?”
She frowned. “I never started. The whole thing makes me…sick. It’s my sister’s thing. Not mine.”
The man started to say something in reply, but he broke off when Kyla stopped abruptly, pressing into her eye with the heel of her hand. “Do you have a headache or something?” he asked in a different tone.
She swallowed hard. “Migraine.”
“You have medicine for it?”
“A shot in my room. It’s the only thing that works. I’ve gotten these for years.”
She felt the blood run out of her face as a wave of dizziness overcame her. It was very bad now, and she still had more than a mile to walk. It was brutally unjust of the universe to have her almost assaulted and then get a migraine in the same day.
The man stood quietly beside her as she took a few deep breathes. When she was able to lower her hand, he asked softly, “Are you okay?”
She managed to nod. “I just need to get back.”
“Okay.”
They walked in silence for a few minutes, until Kyla started to stumble as her eyes blurred over in pain. Pretty soon, she was going to start vomiting. She always did when the migraines hit her this hard.
The man reached out to put a supportive arm around her, the only thing that kept her from falling.
“You’re not allowed to t
ouch me,” she mumbled.
“This is an emergency. I won’t tell if you don’t.”
She leaned on him because she couldn’t help it, and it was strangely relieving to have his warm, strong body for support. He wasn’t as big as a lot of men in Court, but he was hard and strong and could easily hold her up.
Maybe it was just the contrast to how that other man had felt earlier, but she really liked how this one felt.
She wouldn’t have been able to keep walking if he hadn’t been supporting her, but soon the pain and nausea intensified so much her legs just wouldn’t hold her weight. She drooped against him, and he held her up with both arms.
“Should I go get help?” he murmured.
“No. I can make it. Just give me a minute.”
She tried to breathe, vaguely conscious of the fact that one of his hands was gently rubbing her back. It was entirely inappropriate. No man was allowed to touch her without permission, and this one wasn’t allowed to touch anyone at all until Patrice rejected him as a Potential. But she didn’t have the will to stop him. She didn’t even want to.
His hand slowly slid higher on her back until it was touching the bare skin at the nape of her neck.
She shivered as he gently massaged her there. She was dazed from the pain, but she was faintly conscious of a strange inner tug, somehow connected to his touch.
Immediately following it, she was washed with a deep wave of pleasure and relief.
The migraine wasn’t gone, but it was better. She collapsed more fully against his weight as the relief almost knocked her out. “What did you do?” she gasped.
“Nothing. Just massage your neck. I know I’m not supposed to, but I thought it would help.” One of his arms was wrapped around her, holding her up, and the other was rubbing her back through the fabric of her top.
“Do it again,” she panted, clinging to his arms and dazed from the sudden relief from pain.
He moved his hand back up to her neck and massaged the muscles there. It felt nice, relaxing, and then she felt that little inner tug again—almost imperceptible this time. The pleasure from it wafted over her, filling her body so deeply that she gasped helplessly.