I rolled over in the soft bed, only half awake. I stopped myself. Shouldn't I be in pain from moving? The pain was only a minor discomfort, a twinge in the muscles of my left side. My eyes snapped open. How long had I been sleeping?
I lay on my back, frowning at the ornate ceiling high overhead. The bedroom was huge. I knew where I was, I remembered arriving. I remembered too much. I wanted to forget it all, especially the look on Tayvis' face when Vance dragged me up in front of everyone and ruined my life.
But Tayvis was alive. That thought squeezed my heart painfully in my chest. He was alive. I had to reach him. I had to explain to him. I sat up, throwing back the covers.
A wave of dizziness washed over me. I swallowed nausea and waited for the room to quit spinning. I was weak, pathetically so, my legs shook as I tried to stand. I had to hang onto the bed. I wanted to scream with frustration. At least my side hadn't given me any pain, nothing more than a few pulling twinges. That by itself told me I'd been asleep for a lot longer than one night. What had that medic done to me?
He'd kept me from killing myself. I sat back on the edge of the bed. I should have stayed in the hospital on Besht. I'd ripped something loose in my side when Vance dragged me up to the stand. I wondered if he realized what he'd done to me, physically as well as emotionally. And then I wondered if he really cared. Vance was playing a game, a very dangerous one, and he'd picked me to play it with him.
I swore, but quietly. The language I used would have made an engineer blush. It didn't seem right to scream obscenities in this room. It was too refined, too cultured, and much too expensive for that kind of coarseness.
What was I doing here anyway? I didn't belong in this mansion. I had met the Emperor and the Speaker to the Council, the two most powerful people in the Empire. I was the guest of the Speaker. Never in my wildest imaginings had I foreseen this.
I made myself stand again. I would leave, as soon as I could. I would find Tayvis and the Phoenix. And then I would go back to the life I craved, one far removed from intrigue and power. I didn't belong here.
I made it three steps to a chair before I had to rest again. I sat and stared around the room. I had no idea where my clothes were, or even if I had any. I wore a nightgown, a pale cream with delicate lace around the neck. Everything about it spoke of money, lots of money.
The door to the room opened. An elegant woman entered. She wore a suit of deep brown that accented her slenderness. Her hair was the same chestnut shade, pulled into a smooth coil at the back of her head. She wore a single piece of jewelry, a smooth round stone set in a delicate wreath of gold. The stone was an opal, a rich brown and gold and red. That color combination was very rare. A piece that size, even unfinished, would cost as much as an engine replacement for my ship. Whoever this woman was, she belonged here. I didn't.
She smiled, a genuine look of welcome. Her eyes, an unusual amber color, were warm as well.
"I see you are feeling better," she commented.
"A bit," I agreed stiffly. Who was she and why was she here?
"Is there something you require?" she asked politely.
I want to leave, I thought to myself. I wasn't in any shape to leave, not yet. "My clothes?"
She smiled again, amused. "You arrived with no luggage. Do you really want your uniform back? It has been cleaned and pressed."
I didn't know what to say. The woman had me on edge, she was so polished and perfect. I felt like a lump of mud, ratty and unkempt.
"If you wish," she suggested, "you can access several clothing retailers from the comscreen."
That was an awkward suggestion. They were certain to be expensive. I didn't know if I had any money, or even access to an account here. We kept most of our accounts on my ship. When I wasn't there, Lowell had funded everything or I'd been running too fast to bother.
"Do you wish to access your accounts first?" She put it delicately, trying to spare me embarrassment.
She fetched a hand comp from a table in the corner. She handed it to me. It was small, sleek, and more expensive than any I'd ever used. It was fully capable of accessing the planetary datanet. I tuned it in to the financial net.
"Access account for Dace," I said, sticking my thumb on the scanning pad.
The comp beeped to itself. "One account located," it said in a silky smooth voice. "Admiral Dace, Patrol military account. Identity confirmed. Balance calculated."
The number displayed on the screen left me staring in shock. There were an awful lot of digits.
"This has to be a mistake," I muttered.
"Is something wrong?"
A tiny blinking icon at the bottom of the screen told me a message was attached to the account. I tapped it with one fingernail. Text scrolled onto the screen. It was a listing of deposits into the account. Each entry also was tagged with a short explanation. Hazard pay, danger bonus, admiral's salary, the list continued with variations of those three entries. The total amount of credits in the account was staggering.
The whole account was Lowell's way of trying to soothe his guilty conscience for getting me involved.
The woman waited, polite and patient. I had more than enough money to buy clothes, at least one outfit to get me out of here.
"How long have I been here?" I asked.
"Six days. Dr. Himus warned us that the pain med might make you a bit sleepy. It seems to have helped. He also warned us to keep you from pushing yourself again. Two more weeks and you should be fully recovered."
She didn't ask how I'd injured myself. She didn't ask about any of the scars I wore.
"You don't remember me, do you?" she said. I must have looked guilty. She laughed, a gentle sound. "You were not very awake when we met. I am Hester Logachi, Iniuri's personal assistant." She took the comp from me. "If you give me authorization, I can order clothing for you while you bathe. I assume you would prefer to bathe by yourself." Her elegant eyebrows arched in a question.
I nodded agreement. I didn't care if she spent the money in that account. It was blood money, my blood and Lowell's guilt.
"Can you search for someone?" I would have preferred to do it myself, but I wasn't in any shape to do it. And I was too afraid of what Tayvis might say when I did find him.
"Certainly," she answered. "What information do you wish?"
"I need to find him, to talk to him." Desperation must have shown in my voice.
"Vance has been by several times, asking about you." She jumped to the wrong conclusion.
I shook my head and regretted it as the room swayed around me. If I saw Vance, I'd kick him in places that would hurt very badly. "I need to find Malcolm Tayvis."
"I'll see what I can do," she answered. "Name only searches rarely find much of any use."
"I don't have any other information about him." That admission hurt. I loved him, I should know all about him. "He was Patrol."
"That may help."
"He was also here, at that party."
She lowered the comp, studying me.
"Vance surprised me with his announcement," I blurted out. "He didn't ask me first."
"Ah." I didn't have to say anymore, she understood all too well.
I shoved myself out of the chair and stumbled across the room to the bathroom. I shut the door behind me before I gave in to despair. Vance had ruined my life. Six days ago. I hoped Tayvis was still here, that I could find him and explain. Six days was a long time.
I stripped off the nightgown and looked honestly at myself in the mirror. I was skinny, bony, too thin. The newest scar was hidden under a thin flexible layer of false skin. I prodded it. It was tender but not as much as before. The skin and muscles pulled under the coating. I shrugged. It was only another scar now. I had rows of them on my back, from beatings when I was slave on Trythia. I had various others, from being shot and beaten by a lot of other people. None of them were as painful as the scars inside.
I filled the huge tub and floated in the water, wallowing in the wastefulness of it. I couldn't stay long. I was impatient to see what the woman, Hester, had found. I wrapped a huge towel around myself and went back into the bedroom.
She had her back to me, talking to someone on the wall screen. She disconnected the line and turned to face me.
"I took the liberty of ordering a selection of basic clothing for you. Perhaps later if you are well enough, we can go shopping." She smiled as if she were offering me a treat.
"I'd rather hit myself with a stick." I hated clothes shopping for myself, although I loved shopping for just about anything else. No, it wasn't the shopping, it was the bartering. I missed that almost as much as I missed Jasyn and my ship.
Hester didn't share my sentiments. She raised one eyebrow.
"Why do people keep doing that?" I asked. "Is there some kind of social class where they teach you to do it?"
"Do what?" Hester asked, genuinely puzzled.
"Raise your eyebrows. It probably goes with the class on buying clothes and knowing what to wear when. I'm absolutely hopeless at it. I never thought I'd need it."
"Surely you knew someday you would no longer be Patrol," Hester said. She busied herself arranging items on a dressing table. "Although always having a uniform to wear must simplify things. But don't you change between dress uniforms and everyday ones?"
"I don't know," I answered. Hester stopped fussing with things to stare at me. "I wasn't ever regular Patrol. About the only time I've ever worn a uniform since the Academy was when Vance pulled me out of the hospital on Besht."
Hester straightened, a hairbrush in one hand. She stared at me with her perfect features and her large amber eyes. My face flushed.
She threw her head back and laughed. Her teeth were white and even. Her laugh was rich, full throated and sincere. I stood awkwardly in my towel and wondered what made me so funny.
"You are not what anyone expected," she said when she finally stopped laughing.
"That's what Vance said."
"Where are you from, originally?" she asked as she turned back to her task of laying out toiletries for me.
"Tivor," I said suddenly tired and defensive. I waited for her to laugh again. She didn't.
She glanced over her shoulder. "One of the outer planets, correct?"
"Not anymore. Last I heard, Tivor was part of the Federation." I absently rubbed the stiffness in my side.
"How did you get shot?" she asked, her voice low and inviting confidences.
"On Tivor."
If Hester worked for Iniuri Shiropi, she had to have high security clearance. I never understood Lowell's need to keep my life classified.
"The new leader of the government decided she didn't like me."
I sat on the edge of the bed. I was tired and hurting, and not because of being shot. I wanted life to be uncomplicated. The whole situation would have been hilarious, if someone were there who could share the joke. My father, Darus, would laugh himself sick over it. Clark would grin and tease me mercilessly. Jasyn would cluck her tongue and tell me I wore the wrong thing and ask me why I never combed my hair. I missed them, more than I could admit to anyone but myself. I missed my cat, Ghost. I needed her. She didn't care about the Emperor. She didn't care what I wore. All she wanted was me to scratch under her chin.
"You look sad," Hester said, dragging me away from my wanting.
"I don't belong here." I wrapped my arms around myself and hugged the fluffy towel closer.
"Vance would argue with that."
I bit my lip to keep from saying what I really felt about Vance. She read it in my face anyway. I couldn't hide anything. It was all too close to the surface. I was still too fragile.
"Who is this Malcolm Tayvis you asked me to track down for you?"
"The man I should be marrying," I said before I could stop myself. "I thought he was dead. I never expected to see him at a party."
She patted my shoulder sympathetically. "So tell Vance it was a mistake."
I liked Hester, but it would never work, not until I had a chance to talk to Tayvis. Kicking Vance was very appealing. But Vance was fast and he was good. I wouldn't have a chance of beating him in a fight, not for another couple of weeks at least. By then, I was afraid it would be much too late.
A low chime sounded in the room. Hester crossed the room to the door, every move graceful. She retrieved a package from the hall outside. I heard her talking to someone, a murmur of sound. She closed the door and brought the package to me.
"Clothing, I hope you like the colors." She put the package on the bed beside me. "Do you wish help dressing?"
I shook my head. I was feeling a lot better, physically. I was still sick inside about everything that had happened.
"I put a few people on the search for Malcolm," she told me.
"He hates his name," I said. "Everyone who knows him calls him Tayvis."
"They'll find him, if anyone can, and then you can straighten out this misunderstanding."
She patted my shoulder before she left. I wanted to curl up and cry. That would accomplish exactly nothing. I had to do what I could to find Tayvis. Six days had already been wasted.
I opened the package and pulled out the clothes. They were all made of fabric much finer than any I'd ever owned. There was some lace, not much, of a quality that made me swallow hard. It had to have cost a small fortune, but I had Lowell's money to burn. I pulled on the lacy underthings and the silky undertunic. Hester had chosen golds and browns and russets. I did like the colors. The leggings were loose, made of a thick brown knit that was warm but light. The undertunic was a burnished gold. There was a long outer robe patterned with red, brown and gold leaves woven into the fabric. I ran my hand over the rich pattern. Hester bought me slippers, not boots, but she wouldn't know better.
I looked at myself in the mirror by the dressing table. The clothes were very flattering. From the neck down, I looked like a member of the rarified upper layers of society. From the neck up, I looked like myself. My hair was scruffy, tangled and shaggy. I sat at the dressing table and did what I could with the brushes and combs and other items Hester had left out for me. There was even a makeup kit. I fingered it and decided against using it. I'd made enough concessions for one day.
The door opened. Hester came back in, carrying a covered tray. The smells from it were heavenly. My stomach growled. She put it on a different table.
"You look much better," she said. "I like those colors on you. They bring out the highlights in your hair."
"I wasn't aware I had any."
She smiled again, amused. She uncovered the tray. "Late breakfast or early lunch. Speaker Shiropi regrets that he is busy today. He would like you to join him tomorrow for lunch, though."
"I would like to thank him for his hospitality," I said as formally as I knew how.
"He would also like to know how you came to meet Vance. He is most curious about your engagement." Her look said that Iniuri Shiropi was no fool. He knew something was up between me and Vance and it wasn't what everyone seemed to assume.
"I would be happy to tell him everything." Lowell could put his paranoid top secret clearance where the sun didn't shine. If Iniuri Shiropi didn't have high enough clearance to know, nobody did.
"Good," Hester answered. "I will inform him. Do you wish to go shopping this afternoon?"
"Can we stop by the Patrol offices? I have a few favors to call in."
"Certainly. I will make arrangements for transportation. Will a flitter be acceptable?"
Did she expect me to fly one? I'd never been certified on a flitter and the traffic on Linas-Drias was horrendous.
"All flitters have a central control that does the actual flying," she explained. "All you have to do is tell it where you wish to go. I can also make arrangements for your account to transfer to a personal spending account."
I nodded. As long as I could stop by the Patrol offices, I didn't really care where we went or what we did. I didn't even care that Hester was probably assigned to stick with me wherever I went.
"Do you have preferences which stores we visit?"
"I wouldn't know where to start, wherever you recommend."
"Very good. I'll arrange for privacy."
"Why the privacy?"
"Do you really wish to speak with members of the media? Your engagement to Vance is a major source of speculation. So far, they have his story, which is that you are not feeling well. The public is curious why the two of you are never seen together."
"No, I don't want to talk to anyone." Another complication I hadn't thought about. Vance, being one of the two most eligible men in the Empire, would be the center of speculation, especially after his performance at the party. I wondered if it would have been any different with the other most eligible man. Max would at least have been more courteous. No, it would have been worse. Getting engaged to the heir to the Empire's throne would most definitely tweak the media's interest. I decided being involved with Vance was bad enough.
"We should be ready to leave within the hour," Hester said.
She left me to finish eating in solitude. I wondered if it was all I was going to get for a while, both food and information. And then I decided it probably didn't matter. I was stuck here whether I wanted to be or not.