Chapter Three

“I’m sure you’ve heard of Cygnus Fever,” she said.

Dillon suddenly understood almost everything. That sentence exposed the situation for what it really was—making him feel like the nastiest germ that’d ever existed. “Creator’s blood!” he sadly muttered.

Keira nodded. “The embassy physician only just discovered that my…that General Albright contracted the fever. As you probably know, it hinders normal brain activity. You also know we have inoculations for it but one percent of Earth’s population doesn’t respond to the shots, for some odd reason. Unfortunately—”

“The general fell into that one percent,” he finished.

“He didn’t know about it before he came here. Cygnus was his last duty station, as I’m sure you’re aware. But the disease is almost undetectable until symptoms appear. In my godfather’s case, they showed up just as he arrived on Mythreal. He couldn’t seem to put facts in his head and keep them there. He couldn’t make decisions about things that were formerly inconsequential. Knowing something was wrong, he consulted the embassy physician…that’s when vestiges of the fever were discovered. And that’s when he told General Fisk, as the nearest ranking supervisor in this sector of space. Just as standard operating procedure requires.”

“Yes, as I understand it, the disease impairs cognitive function.”

“It’s treatable, thank God! The damage can usually be slowed or even halted. But I’m afraid what has already been done is permanent.” She shrugged. “Scientists…well…they don’t know why some people given shots get it when most never will. A lot of our veterans got exposed before doctors knew about that one percent issue.”

“I’m so sorry about this, Lieutenant I had no idea. Nor did the general, I’m sure. And that’s the worst part.”

“He didn’t want every pirate in this sector knowing he couldn’t make or even accept a war plan when things were getting so mixed up in his head. As to why it took so long to get him relieved…it took months for legislators on Earth to haggle over a replacement.” She paced a few steps before standing in front of him again. “If you’ve ever been to Earth you know what our politics are like. Legislators can’t agree on any damned thing with the end result very little ever gets done. They all had their separate, damned ideas and made numerous suggestions as to who should take charge on Mythreal.” She then explained more fully.

“Earth Force…the law enforcement branch handling the entire affair…wanted a say in matters. The silly haggling went on and on even while doctors kept saying my godfather needed to be relieved as soon as possible. That’s why Fisk was chosen when he should have been sent to the Beta Seven sector. Now, somebody else will have to take Fisk’s place there.”

“I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for your godfather and you,” he softly told her.

“I honestly think he may be one of the vets whose condition won’t be easily treated.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because our physician here has had him on the required meds since discovering the disease existed. He’s not improving. In fact, one morning a few days ago, he got up and put on his dress uniform to watch a police cadet review. He…he thought he was back on Earth, at Earth Force Cadet Academy. He hasn’t held that position in twenty years.”

Dillon shook his head.

“Then he got lucid again, called me to his quarters, and told me not to let him say or do anything that would embarrass him in front of Allied High Command. He was desperate not to make a wrong decision or to let the pirates know about our collective indecisiveness…due to his being incapacitated.”

She paused for a moment. “Sometimes he’s incredibly coherent. Then he looks at strategic plans on a computer…plans that’re routinely submitted by allied embassy tacticians…and it all looks like gibberish. On those days, he needs me to explain everything. Can you imagine? A man of his qualifications and experience asking for anyone’s help?” The lieutenant took a deep breath before saying more. “It’s like he’s trying to see through a thick layer of clouds. His mind just won’t function.”

“The strategic suggestions you gave him were to keep anyone from knowing…obviously,” Dillion said as he nodded. “Still, your plans are brilliant. Now I know you’re not a spy…that you’re on the level…they’re even more impressive. I wouldn’t let myself see that before.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I meant it as one,” he graciously admitted.

She looked down at the ground, obviously trying to maintain composure.

Dillon was greatly saddened by this news. Cygnan Fever was named for its planet of origin. To Albright’s credit, he’d wiped that area clean of criminals which made his sudden inaction on Mythreal so much harder to comprehend.

What he knew about Cygnan Fever wasn’t much. He understood that it attacked synapses in the brain and left untreated would destroy gray matter altogether. Legally, no one with the affliction could hold a position of authority. The general knew that, hence his willingness to share the news with his compatriot—General Fisk. Albright had wanted to be replaced before anyone found out. Keira was giving him a way to do that. Regardless, the general’s neglect in making decisions might still be questioned.

Albright deserved to leave with his head held high. And knowing these circumstances made him feel so much worse. The situation would have been more tactfully relayed at some later time but for his ridiculous paranoia bringing it to light now.

“I…I’m so sorry about this, Lieutenant My behavior in this matter has been…I have no words. I should turn myself in immediately. I can say I suspected someone of piracy, without revealing anything more, and then assert my suspicions were all wrong. I should come clean about my actions in bugging an embassy. My zealousness should be addressed.”

“That’s commendable but pointless!” She took a deep breath and shook her head. “Look, we’ve already established that nobody but us knows. We only have a few days until Fisk gets here. He’ll bring staff members with him who’ll ease the transition and all security documentation about the changeover will be filed with Allied High Command. They’ll be told the truth and will be advised that the information is classified. Pirates won’t be privy to the weakness in our ranks. While our foes are fully aware that all law enforcement actions coming from Mythreal must be unanimous, my godfather’s illness would give them insight into what would be a perceived weakness. That’s information they don’t need. They might see to it that other commanding dignitaries suddenly come down with dreadfully convenient illnesses.”

“Quite true.”

“For now all anyone wants is to see a good man leave with his reputation intact.”

“After what I’ve done, I will make no move to prevent this plan, Lieutenant But you’ll understand if I privately contact Fisk and make sure he’s aware that…as the Chief of Security on Mythreal…I’ve been briefed? In this way, we have all our bases covered. If anyone should ask me if I was aware of the situation, I can truthfully say I was—that the matter is and always has been under control.”

“Absolutely. Of course. I-I might have prevented all this by having contacted you. It’s just that you have a reputation for following rules, sir. I didn’t want my godfather removed from his position so quickly as to make him seem incompetent. That’s the very thing I’m trying to prevent.”

“Obviously, my reputation in regards to following rules has been greatly exaggerated or I’d not have broken a very important law,” he wryly pointed out.

“Let’s just say we both made mistakes.”

“Mine being far, far, worse,” he sadly admitted while shaking his head. Then he considered the utter selflessness in this girl’s actions. If what she said was confirmed by General Fisk—and he was sure it would be—then she was truly one of those rare women who cared deeply about those she loved. She’d let her godfather take credit for some unique, bold strategy that would have gotten her promoted into Earth Embassy’s upper-echelons.

Few females of her ilk had ever crossed his path. Women of his acquaintance wanted power and money. As an unattached member of the royal clan, he’d been used by them many times, as a means to secure a fortune. That’s why he’d stayed single for so long.

“Though I have no right at this point, may I ask for one thing, Lieutenant?”

“Please do.”

“I’d like to be at the ball, to see the general in command one last time. Before he came to Mythreal, your godfather’s reputation as a great leader was second-to-none. I owe him my thanks as a veteran, and as a Mythrealian. I know many here who’re alive because of him. I should have remembered all this before jumping to an asinine conclusion. A situation that will haunt me for the rest of my life. Especially where you are concerned.”

She smiled brightly. “You needn’t worry about what I think of you, sir. I won’t be here for long. I’m not on Fisk’s team. I asked to be brought to Mythreal when my godfather notified me of his condition. General Fisk knew my reputation, and gave me this chance to…fix things.” She smiled. “Fisk has always been a very good friend. If it hadn’t been for his quiet intervention at my request, I’d be stationed on Taurean Seven by now. And the renowned reputation of the great General Albright would have been in shreds. I’m still hoping what I’ve done won’t have been in vain.”

He considered her words for a long moment. “Lieutenant, not to be the bearer of bad news, but you must realize that Taurean Seven is a highly isolated outpost. Nothing like Mythreal. It’s barren. Terrible by comparison. Life there is quite hostile.”

She nodded and gazed around the small glen. “I know. I won’t ever see anything as beautiful as Mythreal again. I just wish I’d been posted here for real. And under better circumstances.”

In that instant he saw undeniable beauty in this plain creature. Beauty he’d have never considered under other settings. Sadly, that revealed much about his shallow nature. Even as he’d rejected women for their greediness, he’d misjudged this one for her looks. Hypocrisy and the tendency to jump to wrong conclusions were flaws that needed purging from his character. He’d overlooked this woman’s intelligence. That, more than anything, had been his undoing.

Because Keira Foley was so different from all the women he’d ever known, he’d count himself lucky to be in her company at the ball, if only for a short time.

“As far as the Valentine’s Day ball is concerned,” she said as she addressed his request, “I’ll have an invitation printed and sent to you. It will include anyone you care to bring. It will be sent straight to your home. No one will question an ally’s attendance at an Earth function. It’s simply a matter of inviting friends to a party.”

‘Friends’. That word to describe this newfound trust rang true, even after their abysmal start. “Thank you. Thank you for giving me this chance to prove I’m not a suspicious, overbearing, and paranoid dolt, Lieutenant As to being friends, I’d most certainly consider us such from here on.”

“Of course. And now that I think about it, sir…I should have expected someone probing into the matter. My godfather’s lack of attendance to his duties was suspicious. Before I arrived, he’d accept no one else’s help. The disease…it causes a certain amount of distrust among those not known well to the victim.” She tucked a stray strand of brown hair behind her ear before saying more. “I’m only sorry it took Earth so long to address the matter…sending a replacement, I mean. The issue wouldn’t have become such an opportunity for gossip.”

“None of this was General Albright’s fault,” Dillon asserted. “As you stated, I should have come to you before making accusations. Certainly before bugging your godfather’s office. It’s a hard lesson, but I’ve learnt it well.”

“Well, you understand now. That’s what matters. And soon, maybe the other embassy dignitaries will understand. Though they’ll be asked to keep what they’ve been told confidential, Godfather won’t be thought of as having suddenly become incompetent in his later years.” She shrugged. “Most importantly, the transition will be smooth. Hopefully, the populace here and on Earth…the ones who’ll be kept in the dark about his disease…will think much better of my godfather. If they knew he wasn’t all there, mentally speaking, there’d be an uproar about the secrecy.” She sighed before continuing.

“They’ll wonder what else we’re keeping from them. For that reason, it was my intention to make it publicly seem as though Godfather was carefully weighing suggestions from various sources before making up his mind. The whole scheme was to give him a way to retire discreetly, on his own terms. He’s a hero back on Earth. I’d like him to remain that way. I don’t want a political issue made of it. Nor a spectacle made of a man I love.”

“Understood. And I totally agree with not only your motives but your handling of this entire situation. You are a remarkable person, Keira Foley. You’ve successfully kept me from destroying trust among eighty embassies. For that I thank you most profoundly.”

He offered his hand. She grinned and shook it in a universal gesture of friendship.

“Thank God this is settled and over,” she laughingly said. “And now…I’d better get back to the embassy or someone will send out a search party. Good day, sir. Thank you for responding to my note. If you hadn’t…”

“I think we should dispense with titles,” he smilingly suggested. “After what we’ve just accomplished and what I put you through first names should be the order of the day.”

“No harm done. It’s over as far as I’m concerned. I’ll see you at the ball…Dillon. And I’ll keep a dance saved for you.”

“Keira…I’ll most certainly look forward to a dance. Again…my profound apologies,” he offered as he put one hand over his heart and bowed slightly.

She smiled even more brightly as she turned away, mounted her own small shuttle, and flew into the distance.

Dillon stood there, amazed, grateful, humbled, and awed.

Forgiveness came that easy. At least it apparently did with her. Of course, she was trying to keep the general population of her world and his from knowing they’d had a mentally compromised man in a powerful position. It remained to be seen if the diplomats would be quite as tactful and keep their collective mouths shut. Still, she’d done a much better job at handling this situation than he. Would he ever get over feeling like an absolute fool?

Once more it struck him hard that he’d never known any female quite like her—probably never would again. He’d underestimated someone who shouldn’t have been. Truth rang from every word she spoke, even in the gleam of her bright blue eyes. He’d assumed so much, so very wrongly. But she’d forgiven so easily.

“Quite a woman,” he whispered to himself. “Quite a woman, indeed!”

****

The week went by quickly.

During that time Dillon gave thanks for having so narrowly escaped the loss of his career and the ultimate demise of Earth-Mythrealian friendship that’d lasted for many centuries. The more he thought about his actions in the matter, the more remorse he felt.

At the ball tonight, he meant to make reparations, and in a way the girl who’d so magnanimously and wonderfully forgiven would never forget. If no one else danced with her or gave her the time of day, as they had during the few functions they’d mutually attended, then he’d be the one to keep her from becoming what Earther’s described in very old-fashioned terms, a wallflower. It was, as he understood it, a term for one who attends a party only to be ignored by everyone else because of their looks.

As promised, his elaborately decorated invitation had arrived earlier in the week. The missive bore the theme of this year’s event—Ever After. Supposedly, the idea was to invoke a dreamlike world of fairy stories reminiscing chivalric, romantic acts.

Sadly, with the upcoming change in Earth’s command, all the rest of the royal household was deep in consultation with members of General Fisk’s staff. Fisk would only make a cursory appearance at the ball, probably to honor the outgoing man in charge—to let Albright leave as he’d arrived—in command.

Since Dillion’s duties wouldn’t be required anywhere else for the evening, the honor of representing the entire royal clan—most of whom were busy—fell to him and his beloved grandmother.

As the only royal family members attending, their conveyance consisted of a large, gleaming, white hovercraft bearing the family crest on the hood—two shimmering green dragons rampant. The trip would take more time than usual since hundreds of hovercraft, from all over the planet, now headed toward Earth’s embassy and the massive, white marble and crystal structure that served as their coliseum.

He settled back to enjoy the scenery. For some odd reason, joy of the evening blocked out the previous confrontation with Keira. All he really focused on was the good part, where he hadn’t destroyed friendships, and she wasn’t a pirate spy. It didn’t take long before Immy’s conversation pulled him out of reverie.

“Did you know that Valentine’s Day on Earth usually comes before the spring season really sets in?” Immy murmured as she pulled at her white dress gloves, and patted her silver hair in place.

He smiled and leaned forward, listening to every word his beloved grandmother had to say. “I understand their celebration is usually toward the end of winter. Snow is still falling in many places.”

“Indeed! None of the flowers back home would even be visible yet. At least not in upper state New York where I was born,” Immy said. “Even when I was young, the florists were hard-pressed to find flowers at the end of winter. They don’t grow them on Earth as they used to.” She sighed and nodded. “Back then the entire celebration had long since evolved away from some saintly personage, and toward large red hearts, boxes of chocolates, champagne and…”

“And?” he prompted.

“Amour,” she finished with a soft smile. “That’s the chief ingredient for the evening. So…I should imagine that while I and my contemporaries sit and natter on about the good old days back home, you’ll find some lovely girl to entice. Indeed, that’s my fervent hope. It’d be better if it was an Earth girl.”

He gazed at his grandmother, so regal in her lovely beaded black gown, and so tiny that he dwarfed her many times over. With her shimmering, silver hair pinned up in an elaborate braid, and her jewels sparkling in her ears, around her neck and wrists, she looked every bit the queen mother she was. Her blue eyes sparkled with barely contained excitement, and she looked many times younger than her eighty years.

After Grandfather’s death ten years ago, he suddenly realized how lonely life must be for her. Grandmother only made contact with other Earther’s when parties or other social events brought her into the presence of those from the embassy. To avoid gossip concerning favoritism, she’d always done her duty and maintained a balance of friends from all sources, when she really only wanted to be with comrades best understood—those from Earth.

He briefly took her gloved hands in his and kissed the back of both. “You’re my date for the evening. No one else will pull me from your side. You look lovely tonight, but then you always do.”

“What utter piffle! I’ll warrant that girl who sent those magnificent, perfect roses is waiting for you, even as we speak. And that’s as it should be. That’s what I’ll demand if she makes an appearance as I’m sure she will.”

“Immy—”

“I’ve just told you…I’ll be gossiping all night with friends. I’ll expect one dance from you then I want you to take yourself off and leave me and my cronies in peace. I look forward to seeing you in the company of anyone who isn’t a gold-digging Mythrealian debutante!” She nodded firmly. “A working girl with a good head on her shoulders is what you need. And what better place to find such a person than a ball held in honor of love. An Earth ball.”

“Immy…we’ve had this discussion about a million times—”

“And we’ll have it again.”

He sat back and stifled a grin. “All right. I’ll let you have your way. It’s not as if you wouldn’t get it anyhow.”

“Good. No point wasting time.” She turned toward the window. “Now, let me view the Mythrealian shops along the streets, and make fun of their attempts to emulate a holiday they’ll never understand. Why, you’d think they’ve invented it what with all the pink and red decorations everywhere.”

He simply allowed her to talk, tolerating complaints because she really didn’t have a mean bone in her body.

“Oh my…will you just look at that…pastry shops are advertising some vague chocolate substitute.” She shook her head as she glanced back at him. “What in the galaxy is Mythreal thinking? There simply is no substitute. None at all…”

Dillon let her chat on. Soon, the bright lights of Earth’s embassy came into view. Symphonic music drifted on warm breezes. Splendidly dressed men and women were leaving their various conveyances with all the pomp of royal dignitaries—just as he and his grandmother would.

After helping his grandmother out of their hovercraft some minutes later, and up the steps of the auditorium—and only after insisting that she’d take nothing as undignified as the embassy’s elevator—they stood side-by-side at the bottom of the inner grand staircase, waiting to be announced. A receiving line was appropriately set up.

A guard smilingly turned to them, recognized them immediately, and nodded. The uniformed officer then used a public address system to pretentiously announce their presence to the hundreds milling about the inside of the ornately decorated ballroom.

From the Mythrealian noble house…the Queen Mother, Immeldeline Haversham Greenleaf accompanied by her grandson…Sir Dillon Greenleaf, Chief of Security for Mythrealian Enforcer Corps.

Though the huge orchestra kept playing softly, everyone in the massive facility turned to watch them enter.

By now, word of General Albright’s retirement had circulated. Dillon knew of this through his own contacts. General Fisk would be the new commanding officer of the embassy. On Mythreal, generals made policy, politicians simply worked out details. Whoever controlled Earth’s part of Allied High Command was powerful indeed. But as he walked slowly down the gently inclined, red-carpeted ramp, to greet those in the receiving line, there was nothing as sad as the expression on Albright’s face.

The man clearly hated leaving. Albright was only at the ball to make a brief appearance, as rumor now had it. Though no one else would know why, he did. Albright was probably trying to keep from saying too much, in front of too many people, while his faculties rapidly failed. Besides that, the retiring general would need to be de-briefed by Fisk’s personnel. And the incoming commanding officer had already arrived with his entourage, all of which were being greeted and pampered by other dignitaries tonight. Dillon saw many of them turn his way and congenially nod.

But then his gaze was drawn away from the sad former supreme officer of Earth’s embassy, to a young girl standing by that man’s side.

Keira. It was definitely her, but she’d dramatically changed. This was not the same officer who had entertained and attended few functions on Mythreal as a virtual non-entity. This new, alluring creature was polar opposite from that very professional if rather bland-looking other persona. Indeed, she’d transformed into the most exquisite woman he’d ever seen in his life. The eyes were the same. The face was the same. But sans the oversized, unflattering uniform, the flat-colored brown hair and very pale complexion, this creature was a stunning goddess. Other men near her stared in open, gawking, amazement, even as he did. Clearly, they were as perplexed by her transformation as he.

The gorgeous lady who shared such an important secret with him now wore a black gown that left her shoulders and arms bare. The skirt of the garment flared out and around her slender hips making her waist seem almost non-existent. Shimmering earrings adorned her earlobes. Her brown hair was now streaked with subtle, lovely red highlights that glistened under a hundred chandeliers. Her hair floated over her shoulders, down to her breasts in soft, lovely waves. Parted in the middle as it was, it framed her exquisite face perfectly. Expertly applied makeup made her bright blue eyes stand out like stars. In a word, she was breathtaking.

As they went through the receiving line, he and his grandmother nodded, smiled, and made the same, tactfully appropriate comments that’d always been uttered at such functions—apologizing for the rest of the royal household’s absence in lieu of affairs of state. Then, they finally approached the general and his goddaughter.

Dillon tried to pay attention to Albright’s words, but it was difficult when his full attention was captured by Keira. What, by Kobald’s Stars, is going on? Why did she change? Why hide her beauty?

“Felicitations, General Albright,” Dillon hailed as he took off his gauntlets, looped them in his belt, and offered his bared palm in return to the general’s outstretched hand. Suddenly he felt terribly sorry for the older fellow. Remorse over his own actions grew exponentially. He glanced pointedly at Keira. She simply looked away.

“Good to see you again, Security Chief Greenleaf,” the general offered. Then he turned his attention to Dillion’s grandmother. “Good evening, Ma’am. So good to see you here tonight. I think the last time you visited the embassy was for the Yule celebrations, was it not?” Albright bowed his head cordially, and briefly took Immy’s hand when she offered it. “Lovely weather for a Valentine’s ball, don’t you think?”

Immy responded in kind. “Yes, General Albright…I last visited the embassy for Yule. So good of you to remember. But the decorations for Valentine’s Day are so much more magnificent. I do so love the red roses. There must be thousands of them,” she said as she lifted one hand to indicate the masses of blossoms arranged everywhere. “Thank you so kindly for the invitation,” she continued. “I only wish the rest of the family could have attended but serious affairs prevent their enjoying this evening with us. I will pass on how lovely everything is. Valentine’s Day was always a favorite holiday in our household back on Earth.”

“I’ll be sure and tell the florist you approve,” Albright happily replied.

Immy then stared at the exquisite girl by Albright’s left side. “Dear sir…do introduce me to this lovely creature. She’s positively radiant! Have we ever met before, my girl?”

“This is my goddaughter, Lieutenant Keira Foley,” Albright blurted, as a sudden smile broke out his face. “She’s on Mythreal only briefly. Helping me with…uh…retirement arrangements and so forth.”

“I’ve heard so much about you, ma’am,” Keira said as she momentarily took Immy’s hand and gracefully curtsied.

Immy immediately turned to him. Dillon saw his grandmother’s amused expression before putting his full attention on Keira.

“Have you met my grandson?” Immy asked.

“We’ve met, Grandmother,” he quickly answered before Keira could say anything. “You’ll recall the lovely roses sent to the manor just a few days ago. They were from her.”

“Reeealllly?” Immy drawled as she glanced between him and Keira. “My, my. That’s very interesting. Very interesting indeed!”

Dillon noted how Immy’s eyes narrowed, how a suspicious little smile planted itself on her pink-tinted lips. He quickly tried to avert any comments. “Uh…Grandmother…though Keira has only been on Mythreal a few short weeks, she and I have had several conversations concerning issues of general security. All professional, I can assure you.”

“Hmmmm,” Immy muttered with a smirk.

“When greetings are done and the occasion arises, why don’t you find drinks and chat? General Albright can keep me company,” Immy suggested.

Albright quickly spoke up. “As much as I’d love that, ma’am…I’m afraid I must finish de-briefing the new embassy staff. Then there’s the fact that I won’t be here for the entire ball. You may or may not have heard that the USS Tremaine arrived at the airfield this afternoon for refueling. After speaking with her captain, I intend to board her as a passenger, then head back to Earth before the sun rises again on Mythreal.”

Shocked by the announcement of such a quick exit, Dillon glanced at Keira. He caught the telltale shimmer of sudden tears in her eyes and understood her godfather intended to leave on his own terms, as soon as possible. Albright was a warrior. He wanted no notice, no accolades, no heraldry on his departure. Simple, clean, and if not entirely protocol, his way of departing was best—given the circumstances. Still, the news had hit Keira hard. He could tell.

“Well…I will bid you a good journey,” Immy said as she shook the general’s hand again. “Your service, sir, has been most laudable. You have done Earth credit!”

“Thank you,” Albright told her.

Dillon took over. “Come Grandmother,” he said as he held out one hand to escort her to a ballroom table reserved for her at the edge of the ballroom dance floor, near the orchestra, “we’ll leave the general to greet his other guests. And Keira…”

“Yes?” she murmured.

“I’ll speak to you later. I believe the first dance will be mine!”

He walked away with Grandmother’s hand on his right arm, his thoughts fixated on the girl who’d so physically changed that she had everyone in the ballroom staring. Dillon meant for her to make an explanation though she owed him none. Still, his offer for the first dance would be interpreted as asking for one.

As he made sure Immy was seated comfortably, and then took a chair to her left, he greeted attendees who approached just as etiquette required. Still, he couldn’t pull his full attention away from the general’s goddaughter; a woman who’d formerly been a conspirator in his egregious actions. Now, the way he perceived her had drastically changed, and all in the span of a few moments. To add to his shame over having spied, he realized he was like a lot of other men. He’d seen Keira as just another innocuous embassy employee, mostly because of how she looked. She’d been intelligent and extremely adept, but not anyone who would capture a man’s immediate sexual attention. That had changed in a heartbeat.

I’m as shallow as some of those women chasing after me—the same ones I’ve accused of only wanting me for sex, power, or my title.

The taste of hypocrisy was bitter. For the second time in just a few days, Lieutenant Keira Foley had made him feel less than worthy of his vaunted position, less than a noble Mythrealian, and more like a scoundrel.

As he stared at her, she’d occasionally glance his way. Only a few more guests in the receiving line and she’d be done with that formal duty.

Eventually, with everyone seated or finding beverages of their choice—and with several of Immy’s cronies now ensconced at the table, keeping her amused—Dillon politely excused himself. He didn’t miss the telltale smile on his grandmother’s face as she nodded toward Keira, as if to express not only pleasure but approval.

The first formal dance of the ball was about to be announced, as was custom. In a rather unexpected rush of possessiveness, he vowed no one was having that dance with Keira—no one but him.