Rebel's Honor(51)

The new corporal stepped back in obvious surprise.

"So this is it?" she asked. "Can I at least gather my cloak? I guess Chenayan dungeons are cold, droughty places."

He cleared his throat and held out a golden tray, on which rested a  hen-sized, blue-and-gold egg. He bowed before setting his offering on  her table. Then, to Lynx's astonishment, he smiled at her. "Sorry to  disappoint you, Your Highness, but perhaps you will get a chance to  visit the dungeons another day."

He's teasing me! Genuinely joking with me! It was positively refreshing.  Lynx choked out a laugh. "As you say, Corporal. Maybe another day."

She waited for him to leave before picking up the curious egg. Made from  gold-plated enamel, it was encrusted with sapphires and diamonds-or ice  crystals made to look like gemstones, her cynical side decided. The top  was hinged like a lid.

She cracked it open, not knowing what to expect-gold yolk or velvet  lining perhaps-but certainly not the ray of brilliant white light that  blasted out at her. It looked identical to the beam from Axel's informa.  She tugged on the corner the way she'd seen Axel do. Her breathing  hitched as an image of Emperor Mott's face appeared before her.

His voice rang out clear and sharp as if he were in the room with her.  "Princess Lynx of Norin, your behavior disappoints. I told you to bed my  son, but instead you played with my nephew. As much as you relish  Axel's kisses, he cannot give me a grandson. His talents lie in other  areas, such as leading the raid on Norin to bring me your parents'  heads. You may have forgotten my threat, but I have not. If you do not  present me with blood-stained sheets the morning after your wedding to  my son, Axel will leave Cian for Norin. You can expect your parents'  heads soon thereafter."

Lynx dropped the egg as if it were a viper. Her stomach cramped, doubling her over with pain.

Then anger took over. Had Axel betrayed her?





Chapter 33





Felix was struck by how pale and exhausted the handsome crown prince  looked. That changed when Lukan saw the image of Axel and Lynx kissing.

Face infused with red, the crown prince hissed, "So it's true. Morass  was waiting outside my apartment for me. He told me Axel and Lynx spent  last night talking about the Dmitri Curse and that Axel kissed her." His  fists clenched-an unusual action from Felix's wimpish nephew. Perhaps  Thurban's voice was finally goading Lukan into manhood? "I came here to  find out if he was lying."

From his nephew's tone, it was obvious Lukan regarded the kiss as the  greatest sin, not Axel's breach of security nor the threat of the Dmitri  Curse renegade.

But Felix didn't have time to worry about those details now. Morass's  betrayal, again, was troublesome in the extreme. Felix was using the  obsequious cretin to test an improvement to his ice crystal programming,  but clearly, his tweaks had failed.

Yet another thing to rectify after this meeting.

"Yes, it's true, Lukan." Mott half-rose to his feet and then slumped back down. "And Axel's indiscretion is all thanks to you."

"Thanks to me?" Lukan shouted as his hand lashed out toward the image. "How am I responsible for that?"                       
       
           



       

Eyes calculating, Felix pursed his lips and settled back, hopefully to  watch an argument fomented through the skillful use of Thurban's voice  in Lukan's and Mott's heads.

Mott didn't disappoint.

"Lynx rejects your advances, so what do you do? Like the coward you are,  you desert her at a ball." Mott thumped his fist so hard on the desk,  the legs groaned. "When the hell are you going to learn that if all  conquests were easy, we could halve our army and spend the savings on  chenna?"

"I am not responsible for what Axel does." Lukan lurched over and wiped  the desk clean with a sweep of his hand, sending Felix's informa, his  goblets, and his crystal decanter to shatter against the office wall.

Felix clenched his teeth behind a tight scowl as blood-red chenna  sprayed over his precious painting of Axel, handsome in full military  uniform. It dripped down onto his cream-colored silk carpet.

A small sacrifice to pay for the potential final showdown between father and son.

Since Thurban had invaded Lukan's head, his nephew's rigid control had  begun to falter. The same couldn't be said for Raklus. From his troubled  expression, he wished to be anywhere but here.

Mott gripped the desk with both hands and tossed it over. Felix and Raklus jumped back, sending their chairs toppling.

In the chaos, Lukan scooped up the dagger. He hesitated, looking at it  askance, and the knife teetered in his hand. Then his nephew's face  hardened, and he slipped the knife behind his wrist.

Felix melted into a smile.

Mott thrust his chin into Lukan's face, shouting, "Even with the title  of Crown Prince of All Chenaya and the Conquered Territories, you failed  to command enough presence to keep a hormonal girl at your side for one  night. One night! And you think to rule my empire after my death?"

Wiping spit off his cheeks, Lukan snarled, "Lynx is not some hormonal girl. She's . . . she's-"

Felix leaned forward expectantly, but his nephew hesitated and didn't  finish his sentence. Not that it mattered. The moment Felix got a  chance, he would lock himself away in the chamber where he kept his most  prized invention-the device that enabled him to discern Lukan's  thoughts.

"Man up, boy," Mott bellowed. "Lynx is nothing but a Norin troublemaker riding the back of a mythical curse."

Mott's words seemed to flush his nephew's anger. Felix jolted his head  up, concerned at that change. Something must have happened since the  ball. Felix itched to leave the room to see what Lukan had been up to  since deserting Lynx on the veranda.

It had to wait.

Then a thought struck him. Had Dmitri visited with Lukan the way the  dead seer had when Felix enjoyed the title of crown prince? It seemed  likely as the cursed Dmitri made a point of harassing all direct to the  throne.

When Lukan spoke, his voice was incredulous, confirming Felix's fears.  "Really? A mythical curse?" Still hiding the knife, Lukan spun, his eyes  searching the carpet. He pounced on Felix's informa, lying in a pool of  chenna, and thrust it at Mott. "So explain why we have these."

With a disparaging wave, Mott brushed the broken informa away. "For four  hundred years, crown princes have dreaded the day they must marry, and  for four hundred years, they have been proven wrong. The Dmitri Curse is  nothing but a legend designed to castrate us."

"And that explains why you and he" -his nephew lashed his hand out  again, this time smacking Felix in the chest- "monitor everyone who  moves?"

"We monitor people so we can stay in power. A concept you would do well  to grasp, Crown Prince," Felix said, trying to further goad Lukan's  anger. It always puzzled him that Mott could so blithely disregard  knowledge of the curse that Dmitri would have imparted to him before his  marriage to a Norin princess. But that was Mott, through and through.

Lukan glared at him. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Mott answered. "Power comes with succession, Lukan. This empire has  stood for four hundred years because Avanov men have always subdued the  Norin beauties Thurban provided for us. But what a disappointment you  are. I doubt you have the balls to bring Lynx to heel. She will never  submit to you." Mott shoved Lukan's shoulder hard enough to send him  stumbling back. "Axel will have her, just as surely as Axel will govern  Chenaya when I fulfill all your wishes and die. He'll be the true ruler  while you strut around, pretending to be emperor."

Felix watched Lukan with cold detachment, wondering how the crown prince  was taking that unpleasant truth, finally aired. Lukan's face was  deathly white, yet his eyes burned.                       
       
           



       

Felix prayed for an explosion of rage, but when Lukan spoke, his voice and face were eerily calm.

"Actually, Father, I have a better idea." The steel dagger flashed into Lukan's hand, and his arm arched toward Mott.

Felix grunted with pleasure as Lukan plunged the blade at Mott's chest.  His pathetic nephew had finally become a man. Pity he wouldn't survive  long enough to enjoy the experience. The Fifteen would take care of that  once news of his regicide reached them.

Then someone screamed. Raklus.

Felix watched with some irritation as the count hurtled into Mott, sending him flying out of the trajectory.

Lukan swore as the dagger thwacked harmlessly into the wood paneling.

"Raklus!" Lukan yelled. "I'll make you pay for getting in my way. And  you"-his nephew kicked out at Mott-"maybe it's about time you learned  just how real the Dmitri Curse is."