Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Doubtless the rebels below knew that the Prince and his two sons were protected by their Force Bubbles—the sides of the bubbles could be seen shining and reflecting rainbow patterns in the light. But both Isla and the other son’s wife—Prunella—were unprotected, and that made them targets.
There was no time to think—I rushed forward and grabbed Isla in my arms. Turning my back to the crowd, I held her close, trying to shield her completely with my body.
I heard the crack of an old-fashioned projectile weapon—probably the only thing this crowd could afford—and felt the thump…thump-thump! of several antique bullets burying themselves in my belt shield wall.
At the same time, I heard a cry and saw Duchess Prunella fall to the ground, clutching her side.
“Shooting! They’re actually shooting at us!” the Prince exclaimed. He sounded extremely fucking surprised. I wanted to ask him what he thought was going to happen if he taxed his people to death while he lived in opulent luxury himself. People get tired of that shit eventually and you can’t blame them.
I could feel Isla trembling in my arms. She turned and buried her face in my chest and I heard her whispering over and over.
“Don’t let me go! Don’t let them get me!”
“No, baby,” I told her, forgetting protocol completely. “No, I won’t—I swear it!”
I rushed her away from the balcony and back into the staging room. I was keeping my eyes peeled for insurrectionists. With a crowd this big and angry, who was to say they hadn’t already breached the palace and were looking to kidnap or kill every Royal they could find?
I didn’t know what I would do if the mob was inside. They would be between me and my ship and there would be nothing I could do but die fighting as many of them as I could to keep Isla safe. I…
Sark stopped recording and rubbed his temples roughly, trying to massage away the tension he still felt.
Luckily, the palace’s defenses had held, but the Royal Family had been in complete disarray. The Prince had been shouting that he wanted the traitors caught and publicly hanged. There had been a flurry around Duchess Prunella too, and she had been carried away to the hospital wing of the palace. Sark still had no idea if she was even alive or not—there had been an awful lot of blood, he thought grimly.
The entire time he had held Isla, trembling in his arms, and that ass, Le’rank, hadn’t come over to check on his wife once. He’d been striding around, giving orders to the guards—well really, just repeating his father’s orders—“Check the premises! Be certain the palace is secure! And find that lunatic who dared to spew such seditious nonsense!”—and he hadn’t even spared Isla a single look.
Finally, after the palace was declared secure, Sark had taken his shaken charge back to her rooms. Isla had thanked him in a trembling voice for saving her life and had disappeared into the fresher—not that he blamed her.
Sark had already decided there wasn’t going to be any massage tonight. He knew his contract stipulated that he was to touch Isla nightly, but she had already been through enough trauma. He’d be damned if he would add to it by touching her when she clearly didn’t want to be touched.
And if Baslik Le’rank had a problem with that, it was too damn bad.
FOURTEEN
From the diary of Lady Isla, wife to Lord Baslik Le’rank of Telmar Two of the Orinthian System:
I nearly died today.
My hand shakes as I write those words. And yet, despite my brush with death, the fear and horror are not what occupy my mind.
I have had the First Sign.
Nana told me there would be three signs to let me know my glow was about to come on. All this time with Baslik I have never felt even one of them—I feared it was my fault, that maybe I was not a Moonstone goddess after all, despite my coloring. But today I felt the first of them—it was unmistakable.
It happened just after the assassination attempt, which was a horrible shock. I remember that I looked down at myself and saw a bright red dot on my abdomen. I didn’t know what it could be but it looked like blood. I wondered for a moment if I was bleeding somehow, but I didn’t feel any pain.
Then Sark rushed over and grabbed me. I heard a weapon being fired and he made a deep noise and I felt his body jerk as he absorbed the blows that had been meant for me. Then he brought me away from the balcony and everyone was screaming and shouting and wailing and bleeding.
Poor Prunella didn’t have a bodyguard to save her as I did, and they carried her away on a stretcher with blood all over her dress. It was horrifying. Though I am not good friends with my sister-in-law—for Baslik forbids it—she is a kindly soul and we always have polite words when we are at state functions and family dinners together. To see her all bloody and gasping for air…