Fighting Gravity (36 page)

“Are you saying you let us win?”

“Of course not. Imagine how excited they’d have been if I’d beaten you.” He grinned.

“You couldn’t beat me if your life depended on it,” I said, stepping into the shower.

“Oh yeah?” he said, following me in and backing me against the wall. “We’ll see about that, Mr. Dawes.”

He was right. There was a distinct change in the general treatment I received after that. People stopped me in the hallway to enthuse about the win. Servants, functionaries, and other palace employees and residents would wave as I passed in the hallway. It was odd and gratifying. It had always galled to be judged for something I had no control over; the approval I found now at least had a basis in something I had achieved myself.

There was a parade midweek, Pete and I rode in all pomp and circumstance through Imperial City; which I hated.

Not long into the procession, as I was surveying the crowd, I was stopped by the face of one man. There was nothing particularly strange about the man himself, only his manner. Lost among a sea of people loud in their happiness, his face was very serious, his gaze, when locked with mine, intense, almost grieving.

There was nothing about him that was overtly frightening, he didn’t strike me as some mad discontent who would assassinate the emperor or his intended for his own twisted ends. And yet my gut knotted. Something about him was familiar in a way that made my palms sweat. I couldn’t place him, though. I couldn’t even decide from which section of my life I imagined he belonged to. My first thought, from the way he made me feel, was Dead End. But I had vivid memories of my time there and I knew that wasn’t why he bothered me. If he’d been a servant, a functionary, a visitor, or anything like at either the IIC or the palace, I couldn’t conjure the memory. I wondered if he was from Abenez, but the idea was far-fetched, and anyway, I couldn’t picture who he would have been there, either.

It was odd and unsettling, but my glimpse of him was brief and then he was gone. I couldn’t find any part of my past to connect him to, so I dismissed him as one of those people who simply looks familiar for no good reason and I forgot him.

The last night of the week was the culmination of all the celebration. There was a ceremony planned for that night, an official pledging of our intention to marry. It was a long standing tradition born of the fact that most Imperial marriages were political alliances; a pledging of faith and intentions that was necessary for the furtherance of political ends, especially when the marriage, for any number of reasons, might be a long time off.

Though I tried to get out of it, the ceremony was simple and painless. Oh, I was stuffed into ostentatious, uncomfortable clothes; Pete wore the official Imperial crown, I was forced into more jewelry than I was happy about. But in the end I only had to stand before the assembled and promise to marry Pete. That promise was easy to give.

-

The preparations for the emperor’s wedding didn’t take very long, in spite of the fact that such weddings are always, without a doubt, the most ornate, ostentatious, involved, and expensive. There were armies of servants and administrators who saw to arranging every detail. I had little to do with any of it. Beyond showing up where I was told I was needed and sometimes providing an opinion when it was asked of me, the preparations intruded little into my life.

But now I was someone of importance. As a duke I had responsibilities, ceremonial and unimportant to my mind, but Pete insisted that I take them seriously. As Prince Consort I would have even more. Pete felt the transition would be easier if I worked into it gradually. I studied the formalities, the traditions, the unwritten rules of society at that level, and the expectations and responsibilities. I had very little time for the lab in the months before the wedding.

One project I took upon myself, though, was restoring Davin to his position. I hated for Pete to lose what had been a relationship much like I’d had with Jonathan because of what I’d done. And also, I wanted Jonathan back.

I consulted Jonathan first. He was the emperor’s head servant now, and there was no more prestigious posting for any servant in the Empire. An assignment to the Prince Consort was the next best thing, but it was still a demotion.

I was nervous. I was afraid Jonathan would feel obligated to agree with me even if he didn’t want to. He’d always been too humble in my opinion; I wouldn’t put it past him to simply accept my suggestion as an order in spite of his own feelings on the matter.

So I spent an excessive amount of time explaining to him what I wanted to do and why, and telling him over and over again it was up to him, that if he asked me not to pursue this, I wouldn’t. “Your Grace,” he said, “I do understand how these things work. And, you’ll forgive me, but you don’t seem to remember that it was my idea for Davin to be persuaded back into his position.”

I blinked. Now that I thought about it, maybe he had been the one to bring it up.

“Oh, well, you may be right,” I said. “You know, you work so hard at fading into the background that you make me think the things I hear you say were my own thoughts. You should quit doing that.”

He gave me a long, bland look. “Yes, I’m sure I’m the reason you imagine things.”

I laughed. “You’re glad to have me back, aren’t you, Jonathan?”

His expression suddenly became serious. “Things are rarely so simple, Your Grace.”

I stared at him, stunned. But then he gave me an apologetic smile.

“But I am glad you’re back.”

The next step was to talk to Pete. When I told him all that I knew from Jonathan, he was appalled. It took no persuasion. The next day he visited Davin at his apartment in Imperial City and asked him to come back. Davin did. I congratulated myself on a good deed done, and on having Jonathan for myself again.

-

Several weeks later, we lay together one night, sweaty and spent, his head on my chest. There was no moon and it was much darker than usual. His arm had fallen over my neck, a little too close, a little too heavy.

For a moment I felt, heard,
smelled
Kafe as if I was in that cell again, and every muscle in my body tensed.

“Mmmm?” Pete’s half-asleep question shattered the memory. I came back to the present in the shaky, cold aftermath of adrenaline. He lifted his head when I didn’t answer. “You OK?”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice shaking. I bit down hard on my tongue and managed to steady myself. “Just a dream.”

He accepted without question and laid his head back on my chest. Under the guise of finding a more comfortable position, I moved his arm well away from my neck. He shifted with me.

I lay there, my heart racing. “Pete, you know the Resettlement camp I went to?”

He didn’t answer for a moment and when he did his voice was thick with sleep. “No, actually,” he said, stirring as if he was trying to wake up enough for a conversation. His voice cleared. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t let myself find out where you were. I was afraid I’d… No. I don’t know. Why? What about it?”

I fought an overwhelming urge to cry, and I wasn’t even sure why. “Nothing. Just wondering.”

He was quiet for several minutes but I could tell from his breathing and the tension in his body that he wasn’t sleeping. Finally, as if he didn’t want to know but couldn’t help asking, he said, “Was it bad?”

“No. No, it wasn’t. That’s why I wondered.”

I felt the sigh through his whole body as he relaxed atop me again. “You don’t know how glad I am to hear that. I was afraid…Anyway, I’m so glad. I worried about it a lot.”

I kissed his cheek and pulled him closer. “I’m sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep. I love you.”

“You didn’t wake me,” he protested, even as he was drifting off again.

It was several hours later before exhaustion dragged me into sleep.

fg
40

Time flew by until the day of our wedding arrived; less than six months after Pete had proposed.

It was a colorful, overwhelming, elaborate affair. The ceremony was long and involved. And there was the necessity of a portion to be dedicated to installing me as a prince of the Empire, a member of the Imperial family, and for me to take the required vows and make the necessary promises required of those positions.

But, in the midst of all of it, when everything was said and done, all that really mattered was that I pledged my life to the man I loved. He put a ring on my finger and I did the same for him. I made the promises and took the vows that were the real reason I stood there. And at the end, he was mine and I was his. Forever.

-

The feast that followed outshone all others, which was a feat indeed. When we were announced upon entering the room, I was announced as Jacob Dawes-Killearn as had been decided. But I didn’t even notice because Pete was announced first. As Rikhart James Talved Peter Evan Dawes-Killearn. I gaped at him.

“You didn’t tell me you were going to take my name.”

“You took mine,” he replied.

“Well, yes, but…can you even do that?”

“It’s already done.”

It took me quite a while to recover from the shock of that, though I was enormously pleased. It was a while longer before I became convinced it was really going to happen. And there were those who tried to prevent it, tried to find some rule or precedent. They didn’t find what they needed. He became Dawes-Killearn, and so he stayed.

-

At the dinner there were gifts and well wishes, and toasts from Kirti and Aliana.

When that was done, I stood. There’d been no plan for me to offer a toast but in the moment it just happened. Pete looked at me but didn’t say anything.

“I have something I would like to toast to. My husband. You know him as a good emperor and a good man. But you can’t know what a truly great man he is, and how much he deserves from life in the way of happiness and love. It wasn’t very smart of him to decide to find that in me,” I grinned at him, “but I’m terribly grateful that he did. And as some small repayment of all that he has given me, I pledge today to spend the rest of my life attempting to be worthy of him.”

Pete stood and took my hand. “Why did you say that?” he asked, tenderness in his voice.

“Because it’s true.”

“You’re crazy,” he replied. “But I love you that way.”

I sat back down, but Pete did not. Instead he too raised his glass to signal an impending toast.

“I shouldn’t have married Jake.” My heart stopped. “At least, that’s what many, probably most of you have thought at some point. I have been told that many times by advisors and those who no doubt had good intentions. But you’re all wrong.

“Jake makes me a better man and thus a better emperor. He’s a good person, in spite of his flaws—and we all have flaws. He’s one of the best men I’ve ever known. I love him more than I can possibly express.” He looked at me now. “Thank you.”

I stood and slid my hand into his. He interlaced his fingers with mine, holding my gaze. There were tears in his eyes, but he laughed.

“Did I scare you?”

“A little,” I admitted.

He grinned. “You should have known better.”

“You’re right.”

fg
41

At the wedding ball, I stayed close to my husband, basking in what he was, and what we were now. I wanted to be this happy for the rest of my life.

As I stood by Pete’s side, while he talked with people I cared nothing about, I saw Duke Blaine and, in a sudden rush of charitable feeling in the aftermath of my wedding, I approached him. He bowed but it was stiff, almost as if it was painful.

I held out my hand. “Your Grace, we’ve been at odds from the very first, and I know I’ve done my part to make it so. Perhaps we can set aside past offenses and have a more amicable relationship in the future?”

He looked at my hand before he met my eye again. “No, Your Highness,” he said. “I don’t think we can.”

I lowered my hand, letting the slow wash of anger calm before I said, “I’m sorry to hear that. It seems to me, though, that you’re only making your life unnecessarily difficult, since you can’t get rid of me again.”

“You think not?”

When my voice came it was quiet and hard. “I think we’ve had this conversation before, Duke Blaine. Do you really mean to threaten me again?”

“Of course not, Your Highness. Forgive me a clumsy choice of words.” But he was holding my gaze and the flash in his eyes and the slight curl of his lip gave the lie to that. “Congratulations on your marriage.” He bowed again and started to leave but stopped and turned back to me.

“I nearly forgot,” he said. “I thought you might like to know I’ve had word that your former lover is doing as well as can be expected in her circumstances.”

“My former lover?” I asked, baffled. I turned, looking for Kirti.

“I believe you knew her as Kafe.”

My head snapped back around as if of its own accord. “What did you say?”

“I’m sorry, does the news not please you? It seems I’ve misspoken again. I may have had more champagne than is advisable. I should excuse myself.” He bowed. “Your Highness,” he said before he walked away.

I was shaking, suddenly cold and sick.

I let him go. I probably shouldn’t have. I probably should have done something, said something. Instead, I looked across the room and saw my husband talking to a small group of nobles, resplendent in his wedding suit, his face flushed with happiness. I clenched my fists, closed my eyes, and willed myself to stop trembling, forced my breathing to return to normal. When I opened my eyes again Pete was just turning his head, looking for me, the smile he’d worn all day still brightening his face.

I couldn’t ruin this day for him.

He met my eye. His smile didn’t exactly change, but something in the quality of it, the intimacy in his eyes, transformed it into something entirely for me. I crossed the room to him and he took my hand. When the others had excused themselves he turned to me.

“I’m happy, Jake,” he said, smiling as if he couldn’t possibly do anything else.