The story:
Andi Markriss hasn’t exactly enjoyed being the houseguest of the planetary high-lord, but her company sent her to represent them at a political wedding. When hotshot Sectors Special Forces Captain Tom Deverane barges in on the night of the biggest social event of the summer, Andi isn’t about to offend her high-ranking host on Deverane’s say-so—no matter how sexy he is, or how much he believes they need to leave now.
Deverane was thinking about how to spend his retirement bonus when HQ assigned him one last mission: rescue a civilian woman stranded on a planet on the verge of civil war. Someone has pulled some serious strings to get her plucked out of the hot zone. Deverane’s never met anyone so hard-headed—or so appealing. Suddenly his mission to protect this one woman has become more than just mere orders.
That mission proves more dangerous than he expected when rebel fighters attack the village and raze it to the ground. Deverane escapes with Andi, and on their hazardous journey through the wilderness, Andi finds herself fighting her uncomfortable attraction to the gallant and courageous captain. But Deverane’s not the type to settle down, and running for one’s life doesn’t leave much time to explore a romance.
Then Andi is captured by the rebel fighters, but Deverane has discovered that Zulaire’s so-called civil war is part of a terrifying alien race’s attempt to subjugate the entire Sector. If he pushes on to the capitol Andi will die. Deverane must decide whether to save the woman he loves, or sacrifice her to save Zulaire.
The excerpt:
This is the most absurd thing I’ve ever done
as assistant planetary agent for Loxton Galactic Trading—standing in as a
bridesmaid in a borrowed puce dress because some other girl failed to show up. Andi
Markriss sighed, feeling the garment binding too tight across her chest. I didn’t mind representing the company as a
guest, but this is way outside the line of duty.
Early afternoon on
Zulaire was too warm for an outdoor ceremony, but the Planetary High Lord’s
spoiled daughter Lysanda didn’t care to be ready any earlier in the day. Her
guests’ comfort wasn’t a consideration.
An inch at a time,
Andi shifted from her assigned spot into the shade cast by the towering stone
pillars. How did I get talked into this?
Oh, yes, Lysanda wept, and her mother made vague threats about her husband
reviewing our shipping contracts. As the musicians played, Andi turned,
watching Lysanda pace toward the dais in time to the music, smiling for her
groom-to-be.
The local priest took a deep breath and
launched into a lengthy blessing, invoking the deity and relating the history
of the planet’s three Clans—Obati, Shenti and Naranti. Andi chanted along with
him under her breath. Overlords, Second Class
and Neutrals, as her boss had told her when she’d arrived on Zulaire six
years ago. Easy to keep them straight that way, he’d said, but don’t ever slip
and use the nicknames out loud.
“This
young pair from two of the highest families will cement our peace,” the priest
proclaimed, lowering his arms and beaming at Princess Lysanda and her intended.
“Their offspring will embody the union of Obati and Shenti blood.”
Applause
from the crowd, led by the bride’s mother, made the officiant blush. As he
bowed, Lysanda blew her mother a kiss.
That ovation will spur him to more oratory
for sure. Andi smothered a sigh, wiggling her aching toes, held too tight
in the borrowed silver sandals. I thought
the last three weeks of engagement parties, picnics and games out here in the
summer compound were endless, but this ceremony tops them all.
“The
bride and groom will now light the symbolic candles.” The priest led the pair
to the side altar, where a trio of candles—blue, green and ivory—had been set
into massive golden holders. Representing the three Clans, the candle ritual
reinforced the political symbolism of this ceremony. Everything symbolic on
Zulaire came in threes, Andi thought, watching the couple light each candle in
turn.
Sneezing
violently as the slight afternoon breeze carried colorful but pungent smoke
from the burning tapers in her direction, she earned herself a glare and a
hissed “Shh!” from the woman standing next to her. After taking a deep,
cleansing breath of the fragrant bouquet she’d been clutching, Andi gave the
other attendant a faint smile.
Lysanda
had argued long and hard with her mother earlier about allowing Andi to
substitute for the unaccountably missing handmaiden. Only the fact that without
Andi to partner him, an important groomsman would be omitted from the ceremony
swayed the decision. Good for Loxton’s
business networking that I’m here. The Planetary Lord’s family owes me personally
now for preserving the precious symmetry of Lysanda’s wedding party, at the
cost of my aching feet. With a flash of amusement at the ludicrous
situation, Andi smiled. Lucky for the
princess, I accepted the invitation on behalf of Loxton, not my portly boss.
Tuning
out the priest’s new recitation of more sacred writings, since the man had a
nasal voice and a tendency to repeat himself, Andi studied the intricate
carvings in the shiny black stone wall of the pavilion across from her, details
brought to clarity by the slanting sun’s rays.
The
bas-relief depicted a stylized sun above a giant, multitrunked malagoy tree—each
trunk symbolizing one of the three Zulairian tribes—Obati and Shenti locked in
an eternal struggle to rule the planet, jockeying back and forth for thousands
of years of bloody history. All the while the Naranti stayed neutral, filling a
perpetual peacemakers’ role, as their god, Sanenre, had legendarily decreed.
Symbolic of their Clan’s allotted role in the planet’s history, the Naranti
trunk was at the center of the tree, supporting the other two.
A
skillfully carved herd of three-horned urabu grazed beneath the sheltering arms
of the malagoy, the alpha buck depicted
in a watchful stance, stone face staring at the occupants of the dais. The image of these legendary
creatures, with their sweeping triple horns, was found everywhere on Zulaire,
even on the Planetary Lord’s seal. Beloved symbol of the god Sanenre, legendary
bearers of good fortune and blessings, the gazellelike animals were extinct now,
of course, hunted for the ivory of their sweeping horns.
Lysanda
and her betrothed were repeating vows after the priest.
Apparently as
bored as Andi was, the youngest attendant at the ceremony, just a toddler
really, came across the platform with unsteady steps, reaching for Andi, her
favorite playmate of the last few weeks. Missing her nieces and nephews, who
lived far away in her own home Sector of the galaxy, Andi had been happy to
skip a few adult entertainments to amuse the young ones of the house during her
stay.
After a quick hug,
the little girl plunked herself at Andi’s feet, leaning against her legs. Pulling
the flower garland from her glossy curls, she picked the petals off the
blossoms while humming the processional tune off-key. The priest began to wrap
up, raising his voice to override the toddler’s song. Andi stared out over the
crowd.
Quite a few empty chairs. A surprising number
of high-ranking Obati guests had failed to arrive, which had driven the bride’s
mother into an angry tirade shortly before the ceremony. The failure of the
missing bridesmaid and her family to show up had created another firestorm.
Lady Tonkiln had a long memory for social slights.
It’s been an odd summer, that’s for sure.
Andi would be glad to see fall arrive, when business always picked up and she
could get back to the office, dive into the complexities of intergalactic
trading and leave the socializing to others. And decide if it’s time to leave Zulaire for another assignment. Six years is too long to stay on one planet,
if I want my next promotion. I wish I didn’t love it here so much.
Of course, no one
had expected Planetary Lord Tonkiln to leave the important business of ruling
Zulaire for his daughter’s handfasting. He’d be at the formal wedding later in
the year, held in the massive shrine at the capital, to accept the Shenti
groom’s petition for marriage to Lysanda. His oldest son, Gul, had been
scheduled to stand in for the ruler today, but in typical Gul fashion, he
hadn’t shown up.
His careless
attitude to responsibilities had been one of the reasons Andi had never let
their casual, off-and-on-again affair become more serious. Charming as he was,
Gul was unreliable.
Glancing along the
fringes of the crowd where the invited Shenti guests were sitting, she saw
everyone attentive, focusing on the glowing bride and handsome groom.
The Naranti
servants clustered at the rear of the outdoor pavilion looked bored. I suppose they just want to get this over
with so they can clean up.
Well, me, too. I want to get out of this
dress. What a wretched color Lysanda picked! Andi sighed. I’m glad I can wear my own clothing tonight
at the reception, when I present the Loxton corporate bride gift.
And still the
ceremony continued. The bride gazed soulfully at her fiancé while he knelt,
serenading her with a traditional Zulairian love song. As if she hadn’t been making fun of this very part of the ritual less
than an hour ago. What a little actress.
This was a coolly
negotiated union of the ruling Obati family and an influential Shenti house to
further cement everyone’s power. Lysanda
and her groom are doing an excellent job of portraying lovebirds for the crowd.
Both loving the spotlight. How fortunate he can sing—the family didn’t
have to hire someone to carry the tune for him. Andi blinked, turning her
full attention back to the couple as her own most favorite moment of the handfasting
ceremony arrived—the giving of the bridal shawl. In the old days, she knew,
these shawls had been hand-woven, selected by the groom with much care to
symbolically enfold his chosen one in his love. Lysanda’s shawl followed
current fashion in the capital – machine-made, trimmed with three kinds of
lace, the two family crests outlined in semiprecious gems—all about the show,
not the emotion. Two attendants carried the unfolded shawl to the groom,
displaying the embroidery and jewels for the guests to admire.
Still, it was the most romantic aspect of this
particular ceremony. Andi suppressed a somewhat wistful mental picture of an
unknown man wrapping her in one of the traditional, simple shawls. She took another deep breath of the
flowers’ perfume. What is with me today,
all this nostalgia for the dreams I had as a kid? Romance, a husband, children…
Traveling around the Sectors doing business for Loxton is the wrong career if I
want to settle down. I already made that decision, no looking back, no regrets.
Maybe after I make Sector vice president, I’ll decide on a different course.
No telling how old she’d be by then.
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