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Proposals
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ALLEI (AUGUST) 17, 1538
Same Day
Meetcher Estate, City of Meritab
When a hov had finally picked them up, Prince Terosh Minstel submitted to stuncuffs, grateful to finally go somewhere. He couldn’t stop worrying about Reia. His captors didn’t drug him, but they didn’t answer his questions either. They arrived in Meritab and entered an underground hov lot. The anotechs confirmed the location as the Meetcher estate.
After exiting the hov, they traveled up several floors and down several hallways, arriving at an impressive door. The thick carpet sank under Terosh’s feet, giving him a clue as to the sort of person he would soon meet.
Terosh and his three captors—Herik, Alden, and Einer—stepped into the large office. Six strangers—five men and one woman—stood before him. Four men wore black uniforms, which bore no symbols, and one wore an outfit designed to imitate a uniform without being as austere. Two young men flanked a middle-aged man with graying brown hair. Next, a man in his mid-thirties stood slightly to the right and a step behind the dark-haired man in the black half-cape. The woman wore a long-sleeved, blue satin gown, which flowed from her shoulders down to a pair of silver slippers. A lightweight cape graced her shoulders.
“Welcome, Prince Terosh,” said the man in the half-cape. “My name is Donovan Meetcher. We have business to discuss.”
The man flanked by uniformed men gestured, and Terosh sensed his guards standing down.
So, you’re the one in charge.
Ignoring the man who had greeted him, Terosh watched the woman. The set to her shoulders and furious glares she fired at the half-caped man told him they were well-acquainted. Whenever her pale blue eyes flicked toward Terosh, they softened. He didn’t know how to take that but filed the information away.
“Get on with it, Donovan. This isn’t a social call.” The woman’s golden hair looked ready to cast off the clips trying to subdue it.
Meetcher frowned at the woman before speaking.
“My Prince, I have reliable word that the king and elder prince will not return from Mitra.”
Terosh froze. He had spent the night preparing to see Reia. This was the last news he expected.
“Taytron’s staying to avert the Blood Harvest, but why would my father not return?”
“The king will not return alive, but the Alliance and my patron believe House Minstel should stand. We will protect you until you can claim your throne. When that happens—”
“No.” Anger gave Terosh a moment of euphoric defiance. “I will not be your puppet king.”
“You forget that we hold one you love,” Meetcher reminded, motioning to the wall to Terosh’s right.
One of the pastoral paintings shimmered and melted into a far less peaceful scene that made Terosh sick and furious. The picture changed every few seconds, showing the scene from four different angles. It took two cycles for Terosh to understand what he was seeing.
Reia lay unconscious, suspended from the ceiling of a room barely larger than a hov. She wore dark brown pants and a light beige shirt, but today, she also wore a blue band around each of her upper arms. Ropes bound her hands in front so that they rested below her body, and a thick strap of camrood leather secured her feet. Strong metal chains surrounded by more leather straps formed larger bands, which supported her forehead, shoulders, stomach, waist, and four spots along her legs.
About a quarter meter above the floor a web of thick, blue beams cast everything in eerie light. The beams arranged themselves into square grids with six smaller beams inside each box.
Terosh felt Donovan Meetcher measuring his reaction. The message was simple. Reia’s life literally hung in Meetcher’s hands. Terosh didn’t know who Meetcher answered to, but it mattered little now.
Picking up an infopad, Meetcher switched to a live feed.
“Lower her a meter,” he instructed.
“Yes, sir,” answered the controller.
Terosh couldn’t tear his attention from the screen. His breath jammed in his throat as Reia sank the prescribed distance, coming to a stop a meter off the floor.
“Sizer beams deliver minor shocks, but they’re strong enough to wake her from the criessa,” said Meetcher. “The bands around her arms will prevent any shocks from going beyond that point, but—”
“Stop!” The lady’s cry contained horror, disbelief, and loathing.
Meetcher shot her an impatient look.
“Why don’t you—”
“Who are you?” the woman demanded, cutting Meetcher off. She fumbled for her comm, keyed in a code, and tried to master her emotions. “Controller, this is the Lady Meralla Meetcher. Turn off those beams and lower the girl to the ground. I’m coming to collect her.” She turned off the comm before the man could protest.
“Meralla, I—”
“Master Keldor, please release the prince and see him to a guest room. I’ll take care of the Ranger and have her in sublevel one, prison room three as soon as possible.” Without waiting for an answer, the woman stalked from the room.
Dazed, Terosh allowed himself to be led from the room.
The wait turned out to be an excruciating hour and a half, but as soon as he set eyes upon Reia, Terosh forgot everything but his love for her.
Lady Meetcher had briefed him on her plan several times, patiently trying to break through the fog surrounding his mind.
“She’ll be awake soon, but she might not be able to talk right away,” said Lady Meetcher. “This room is safe. I’ll have a meal sent in around two. If you need anything, ask one of Master Keldor’s men. Wait for my signal. It should come around seven tonight, but if it comes before, you must be ready to move immediately.”
“Why are you doing this?” Terosh wondered.
“For my daughter,” Lady Meetcher answered. “And for myself.”
Terosh nodded thanks but couldn’t conjure proper words. He wanted to warn his father and brother of the danger, but his brain was thick with grief and worry.
Smiling with understanding, Lady Meetcher slipped out of the room.
The scent of iras and fenria clung to the air, coming from Reia’s neatly brushed hair. Terosh sat on the low but comfortable sleep pallet and picked up her right hand. Her skin felt like she had spent a month in the Frozen North, the poorly named southern continent. She shivered.
Criessa. Don’t those idiots know too much criessa could kill her?
Terosh tried to think of what he should say when Reia awakened. He could speed up the process if he could warm her. The thin blankets might help, but they weren’t fast enough for him.
Can you warm her? Terosh asked the anotechs.
No. Too warm, too fast with criessa very bad. You warm.
Finding no fault with the idea, Terosh picked Reia up and slid her over. Then, he tucked his arms around her and pulled her across his chest so his body heat could drive off the cold. It reminded him of the day they had run into the graveground and the flashflood. That got him thinking about the Kireshana, and he remembered teaching her “Leparnisu.” He kissed the top of Reia’s head.
I’m sorry, Reia. I’m so sorry. The world is definitely you, he thought, resting a cheek against her sweet-smelling hair.
They sat like that for a long time, shivering as the drug delivered waves of fresh cold. Finally, the chills ceased and Terosh felt Reia’s hands warm beneath his own. Her head moved slightly.
“Reia?” Terosh asked, squeezing her hands. “Are you awake?”
***
CONSCIOUSNESS RETURNED slowly to Reia Antellio. She first noticed the unrelenting sensation of ice flowing where warm blood had once traveled. Then memories played for her. Lady Meralla Meetcher had spent hours gently washing away the dirt and hurt of the last few days.
This morning, Meetcher and his men had come with painful instruments and questions they knew she couldn’t answer.
When they finished their interrogation, two of Meetcher’s men had carried her down the hall to a tiny room and pinned her arms against the wall. Reia had just enough time to register the camrood straps and chains littering the floor when the criessa injector pressed against her neck. A hissing noise had preceded the injector’s cold kiss. Unconsciousness came as a relief until the cold returned in vicious cycles.
During a light part of the sleeping cycle, Reia imagined hearing Terosh call her name, but she ignored it. Thinking of him would hurt. He couldn’t be here because she was a captive and being here would only make him a captive as well. She would never wish that on anyone, especially him.
“Reia, wake up!”
Reia shook her head, figuring that if she ignored the cry long enough it would go away.
Wake! Wake! Wake! the anotechs added.
I’m not talking to you.
Fine, ignore the prince. He’s been here over an hour. Let him wait forever.
Reia awakened with her heart pounding enough to rattle her head. Her hands were restrained by something warm. It took her a second to recognize the warm thing as a pair of hands attached to arms wrapped tightly around her. She tensed to throw off the arms.
“Wait, Reia! It’s me!”
“Terosh?” Reia asked, hoping she’d heard wrong. Her voice was weak from disuse. “You came for me.”
It was not a compliment.
“Of course, I came for you, I—”
“You came here,” she said, as warm tears flowed. “You big idiot. Go away! Don’t you—”
“Hey, hey.” Terosh kissed her neck. “Is that any way to treat the man who came to rescue you?”
Reia continued crying softly. The tears were surprisingly refreshing.
“Only when he plays the honorable fool.” She worked a hand loose and patted his left forearm. “But for what it’s worth, I’m glad you came.”
“I’m glad I came, too,” Terosh whispered. He cleared his throat. “Now, before I forget, I must ask: will you to marry me, flaws and royal strings and all?”
Reia licked her dry lips to buy time. Had he asked the question two days ago she would have shouted yes, but so much had happened.
“Before you answer, you need to know that the royal strings are a lot more complicated.” Terosh brought her up to date on his brother going to Mitra and what that meant for him. Still holding her tightly, he finished, “I—I’ll understand if you’re afraid. My family doesn’t exactly have a peaceful history, but I love you.” He shrugged, squeezing her tighter. “I guess I’ll always love you, so I had to ask.”
“I am afraid,” Reia admitted, “but not of following you wherever life may lead.” She paused as her throat constricted. “I’m afraid to lose you. Do you know how many times I’ve pictured you hurt or dying? Do you know what losing you would do to me?” Reia twisted her head up to look at him.
“Don’t lose me then,” Terosh answered, kissing her lips. He pulled away slightly. “You’ve a better chance of safeguarding me if you marry me.” He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he kissed her again.
Each warm kiss loosened some of the icy fear. After the sixth or so kiss, Reia pulled away long enough to speak.
“Yes.”
“What?” Terosh asked, feigning confusion.
Reia sat up straighter.
“You know very well which question I just answered.”
“Remind me,” Terosh murmured with a grin.
She did so with a kiss.
