22

Doña Christina – Gulf of Cadiz, Coastal Spain

It moved with the water. Despite its weight, the work platform drifted atop the waves as nimble as a raft just as it had been designed it to do.

Doña Christina stood on the balcony of the lighthouse, hands wrapped around the railing to keep them from shaking as she surveyed the final construction. Sun low in the sky, breeze on shore ruffling the blue and crimson heralds of the Bourbon bloodline, she watched her older sister, Ysabella, step delicately from a carriage and take her place at their father’s side on the beach. Christina let out a string of furious words. Her father, the king, and Ysabella stood side by side, regent and heir, as they greeted the Italian entourage. Christina’s lip curled at the sound of her sister’s tinkling laugh at some inane jest by the fawning ambassador. Raven hair glossy in the glow of the sun, Ysabella’s poise and grace drew the gaze of every man on the sand.

The smooth rustle of cloak sounded, and Christina turned, startled, only to relax when she saw him. Silver hair covered by the hood of his cloak, Arecibo’s severe smile struck her once again as deliciously dangerous. “I am getting better at catching you,” Christina said, glancing behind him. “No one saw you?”

He gave her an expression that made her feel foolish for asking. Of course no one did. He was a trained spy. One only saw him coming if he permitted it. A last lesson many had learned too late. Christina’s gaze wandered back to the scene on the beach, unable to suppress the frustrated sigh.

“She does not exist when you are in the room,” Arecibo’s velvet voice elicited a genuine smile.

She faced him, her foul mood lightening. He brushed her knuckles with a kiss and held her with his pale gaze. “And your father knows it. That is why he keeps you hidden.”

“He does not bother to keep me hidden. I never enter his thoughts in the first place.”

“Querida,” Arecibo said in a perfect accent. Beloved. “There is no forgetting you. And in less than a week every house and every land will know your name and tremble.”

Shrugging, Christina pulled a gold thread from her cuff, watched it twist in the breeze, and let it waft on the winds towards the group. The filament caught the light of the setting sun and she dared her father inwardly to look up. To see to whom she spoke. It landed behind them without notice. “Yes, well, this day, the king bargains my hand to appease the Italians and yet Ysabella accompanies him to greet the prince. If I am to marry the vapid fop, I should at the very least be included in the arrival party.”

“It will never happen.” Arecibo nodded out at the waves. “Your creations will assure you the reins of your own destiny.”

“I have built upon the minds of geniuses,” Christina intoned. “But the modifications I made should serve us well.” She bit her lip, a frown furrowing her brow.

“Those we lost in the perfection of the design knew the risks, Querida.” Arecibo clicked his tongue. “You knew that sacrifices must be made for our cause.”

Christina murmured assent, her gaze resting on the construction raft bobbing on the surface of the cerulean waves. Glistening in the sunlight, the metal and glass structures barely visible reminded her of the insects that had inspired her. From wild imaginings to the realization of her tentative sketches, Arecibo had been there. It was fitting that he witnessed their baptism to the element for which they were designed.

“Their completion nears,” Christina said, the breathless quality to her words the only outward indication of inner anticipation. Schooled to keep her emotions well under control, it took the acute eye of her suitor to understand her hidden self. “All is on schedule.” She waited for a moment before asking her next question. “Have you found her?” Arecibo’s brow creased and she watched him, noting the stress lining his eyes.

“Those imbeciles in Outer City tried to mob her after they contacted me. She escaped.”

“With Wells?” Christina asked, putting a palm to her tumbling stomach.

“Yes.” Arecibo balled his fists. Wells was a thorn in his side. Disrupting his meticulous plans at every turn. He favored Christina with a reassuring smile. “Do not despair. I have reached out to the entirety of my contacts both inside The Order and out. The reward I offer is double that of the Peaceful Union. I will find her.”

“She is integral to our plan.” Christina’s stomach twisted. “If we do not have her, there is no telling how we will be able to—”

“I have informants in all of the ports, my love,” Arecibo assured her. “As well as those loyal to The Order inside the domes. In any regard, she needs me or she will die. Her conditioning will return her to her rightful place.”

Restraining the urge to argue further, Christina cleared her throat, glancing at him. “And the other matter?”

“The timing must be perfect. No one can know, and no harm can come to him.”

“We should do it now,” Christina urged.

“It would tip our hand.” Arecibo countered. “And secrecy is of the utmost importance right now. Trust me.”

“It is the timing of all of this that is stealing my sleep,” she murmured. “There is no room for mistakes.”

“I agree.” Arecibo leaned on the railing. He held a spyglass to his eye and flicked a lever with his thumb. The sections pushed out, revealing a large lens through which he watched the work. “What of the plans here? There have been no questions? No inquiries about the…unusual equipment?”

“Most of them only understand what they are told to do, nothing more. The rest know not to question.” Christina pulled on the hem of her sable wrap. “You were right. The Master of Science bent easily to my threats. I walked him through his conversation with my father should the king question the need for what he builds in the sea. He is to explain that the worsening weather may result in vicious tornados that can alight on the coastal towns without warning. Even if my father did ask what his scientists were constructing…they would not be able to tell him. No one knows what is truly happening. Each worker is given only a small portion of the plans and works on the equipment only at night with limited lighting. I doubt anyone could so much describe what they were building. Let alone know what it was.”

“Fortunately, he has a gambling problem. It would have been a shame to lose such a talented engineer were he to develop a conscience.”

“The irony is, my father would not have cared if he gambled or womanized or drank. What my father loathes is losing. That Luis helped himself to family treasures to pay off his debt is what the king would have found reprehensible.”

“Do not feel guilt for using what you had to achieve what you needed.” Arecibo’s hand slid along the railing and covered hers.

“I do not regret it. I believe we all have our weaknesses,” Christina murmured. “I simply found his first.”

A rush of bubbles churned the surface of the water and gushed around the bottom of the maintenance platforms. Christina’s gaze snapped to the group on the sand. Her father and sister, engaged in raucous laughter with the arriving guests did not look over. She took in a steadying breath, assuring herself they had not noticed. Clanging, hollow and vast, sounded as the armory mechanics did their work. She only wished that the welcoming party would move off the beach as soon as possible lest they realized what was being built underneath the platform.

“The king is in high spirits.” Arecibo collapsed the spyglass against his palm. “The excitement of impending war?”

“My father readies his armada.” Christina frowned, watching the king below. He shifted his robe and the gold chain of his cloak shone in the sunlight. The breeze ruffled his furred collar and obscured the lower half of his face as he turned to address her sister. “He longs for Spain’s domination of the skies as we once ruled the seas.”

“And the assault on Outer City?”

“My father’s navy will strike at Outer City. The rest of the invasion, Baumton’s threat to overtake the colonies after the outlaw ports are dealt with, that is yet to be determined.”

“When does the armada sail?” Arecibo asked, his gaze intense.

“As we hoped. A night attack. In three days’ time.” Christina eyed the sky above and spotted a fortified air ship. “There is no stopping it now. His honor is at stake. Particularly after your show at the Coalition of Khent assembly. They are still looking for pieces of Baumton.”

Arecibo sniffed, smoothing his collar, a hint of a smirk on his lips. “Speaking of which, I see your sister has shown her hand where the coalition is concerned,” Arecibo said. “Your father twisted more than a few arms to assure her position as Interim Minister Secretariat until they replace Baumton. A coup for the royal family. Particularly an heir so recently deemed acceptable.”

“He would give her the sun if he could,” Christina snapped. “Heads rolled in his quest to secure Ysabella’s claim to his throne despite her sex. Do you want to know what His Majesty gave me?” She showed Arecibo the pouch. The purple silk weighed heavy in her palm and she lifted the flap biting her lower lip as she peered at the dagger. Exquisitely crafted in Spanish silver, the embedded sapphires and emeralds glimmered against her skin.

“This is handsome.” Arecibo touched the tip with one elegant finger.

“It bears the Bourbon and Savoy emblems intertwined. The king assures me my fiancé, Victor, will like it. The ninny felt the need to brag incessantly of his collection to my father the entirety of his last visit.” A shiver of disgust moved through her. “Apparently I alone am not enough to appease the Italians over the loss of their Signori Vataglia. My father must also shower them with gifts of our goodwill as well.”

“A wedding present?” Arecibo pulled the dagger, resting the blade against his long fingers and blowing his breath out slowly. “It is superbly made.”

“I am to give this to the prince when we meet. Which will be the night before our wedding at the banquet.” The thought of being traded to a complete stranger sent panic threading through her chest. To have no say over one’s own destiny, to be a pawn for men…Christina knew her place, she just refused to accept it.

A mind like yours was created to rule men, not sit next to them in silence.

It was the first thing Arecibo had said to her over two years ago at The Exhibition of Wonders in Versailles. She’d stolen into the fair, full of wonder and excitement at the inventions and demonstrations she had only read about. Wandering, anonymously, she’d thought, the area housing the hall of Absolute Zero, Arecibo’s admiring gaze as she spoke of gas lines and vapor capture was intoxicating. His hair, though silvery gray, was full and framed the smooth skin of his face. The color belied Arecibo’s age and vigor. He’d told her once the coloring was the result of an early tragedy in his laboratory. She wondered what had done such a thing.

Christina thought of their first meeting wistfully, still amazed at how he had conversed with her as an equal, one to be respected and lauded for her designs. Knowledge hard won against the traditions her position espoused. That she preferred math to needlepoint and engineering to etiquette ostracized her to those in her circles. But to him, to Arecibo, she was fascinating. The center of his world. A title as a second born girl she would never garner in the eyes of her family. A man of the mysterious Order of the Sword and Scroll who passed her secret messages via spies, and appeared when she least expected him, but right when she needed a dangerous ally or a source of strength.

Her life had never been the same. Her hopelessness and frustration became fuel to achieve her ambitions, her rightful spoils, despite what the king thought. Would she have dared to do what she now planned had she never met Arecibo? That she did not know.

Arecibo flipped the dagger, catching the blade and offering the handle to Christina, pulling her from her musings.

“It is my experience that Italians puncture easily,” he said with a grin.

She smirked. “This is your fault, of course. Had you resisted the urge to stab Vitaglia, I might not be in this position. Instead, I am now a peace offering to the Italians to get them to support my sister’s new appointment.”

“Oh, you would have been traded regardless,” Arecibo said and held her gaze. “If not to the Italian prince, then to another. With no sons and an ailing wife, there is little hope of the king keeping the throne for much longer despite what he thinks. His brother waits in the shadows for his turn to reign. Many believe he has a right to the throne regardless of Ysabella’s supposed legal naming. Her husband is French, and nobody trusts the French, particularly when a throne hangs in the balance.”

“You think there is intrigue afoot?” Christina looked at him in earnest. He always seemed to know, through his contacts and dealings, the murmurings of court. And not just Spain, but all of Europe held few secrets from Arecibo. He was both hated and feared for what he knew and what he did with that power. If her father knew she even spoke with him, she would be sent away immediately. Married off to a northern prince and most likely under guard. “What have you heard?”

“There are a few European houses that wonder if the annihilation of Outer City makes sense economically. They are a conduit of trade.”

“Trade for them as the black market goods filter through my father’s lands. But with those spoils come infection. What I said to Baumton was not wrong. The exiles find their way onto Spain’s shores, not the lands of other houses. It is our beaches that fight off shiploads of sick. Our hospitals that struggle to keep up with the dead and dying. My father’s country is in danger if nothing is done. What of the governors?”

“They meet to discuss the fate of their outlaws as we predicted.” Arecibo worried the end of his ponytail. “Everything is falling into place.”

“And it all hinges off one thing,” Christina said and sighed. “You must locate her.”

“Are you entertaining second thoughts, Your Highness?” Arecibo’s words, though sweetly said, carried a tang of warning.

Her heart paced up. Gaze caressing the severe angle of his jaw, she found herself leaning ever so slightly toward him drawn by the danger that seemed to seep from his every pore. “I am finished with my father. He would no sooner heed my warning if I told him his hair was aflame.”

Arecibo’s sly smile sent a flutter up her spine. “The time to take what is rightfully yours is fast approaching. Do you have the nerve to fight for it, Christina?”

“I have the nerve, and with you, the means,” she said finally. “There will be no stopping us.”

Another surge of white water churned from underneath the maintenance platform, revealing the hoses and brass of the equipment.

Arecibo’s low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “They will never see us coming.”

“Yes,” Christina said, a swell of pride filling her. “That is by design.”