Malcolm (Book 1, The Redemption Series) (5 page)

My heart feels like it's going to burst with joy at this news, and I feel like a burden has been lifted from my shoulders. I throw myself into my papa's arms.

“That's the best wedding gift you could have given me,” I tell him, hugging him around the neck tightly, but not using all of my strength because I don't want to hurt him. “Thank you, Papa.”

“Don't thank me just yet,” he says to me. “If I see the empress mistreating you, I won't be able to keep my mouth shut.”

“I wouldn't expect you to,” I say, pulling away from him slightly so I can look into his deep blue eyes. “You don't have to worry. I won't let her abuse me. You have my word on that. You raised me too well. I won't let anyone do that to me and get away with it.”

My papa laughs. “Good. I'm glad I succeeded in raising you with enough self-esteem to make sure no one, not even your mother-in-law, has the power or right to treat you harshly.”

I hug my papa one more time because he's made me the happiest person in the world with his willingness to move into the palace with me. I know what a sacrifice he’s making. He'll always be under the scrutiny of the empress now. But, I know together we can handle anything she throws our way.

My father teleports us to the entrance of the palace's ballroom. I've been in the ballroom before, of course, though never for a formal function. Auggie and I used to play in the large, cavernous room when we were children. With the floating lights fully lit, the gold walls and mirrors in the room glimmer, telling of the wealth of the family who owns it.

As we approach the entrance, the herald, dressed in a red velvet jacket and matching pants, bows to us and turns to those already present in the room.

“Presenting Lord Andre Romanoff Greco and his daughter Lady Annalisse Desiraye Greco, the future Empress of Cirrus!”

I cringe inwardly at the last part of the herald's announcement, wondering what Auggie's mother must think of such an introduction. It wasn't just the words the herald said, but the way he said them with such conviction and eagerness. I have to assume she isn't exactly happy that some of her subjects are fervently awaiting the day she will have to abdicate her throne.

As my father and I walk down the staircase into the ballroom arm in arm, I search through those in attendance, hoping to find at least one friendly face within the sea of people staring back at me. Unfortunately, I don't see anyone I would readily call my friend. There are a lot of acquaintances present, but no one I would label as an ally to me. In all honesty, the only person in the world I consider to be a true friend to me, besides my papa and Millie, is Auggie. Strangely enough, he's nowhere to be seen.

My father walks me up to the dais where the empress is sitting on her red velvet and hammered gold throne looking regal, as a monarch should, in her black gown. Her back is rim-rod straight as she oversees the proceedings. The throne beside her is empty of its occupant, and I wonder where Auggie is. I know he can lose track of time when he's with Gladson, but surely he didn't get so caught up in his lover that he forgot about the ball.

“Good evening, Andre,” the empress says as my father bows and I curtsy to the empress. “Annalisse, you look very lovely this evening, my dear.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

“I hope you enjoy your first ball.”

“I'm sure I will, your majesty.”

My father bows once more to the empress and then turns me away from her scrutiny so that those behind us can show their respects to the reigning sovereign of Cirrus.

“Would you like a drink?” My father asks me, escorting me to the table set up with ever -filling glasses of champagne.

“If I ever needed a glass of champagne, it would be now,” I say with a sigh.

“You shouldn't let her bother you so,” my papa says.

“Do you think one person should have so much power all by themselves?” I ask him. “It doesn't seem quite right, does it?”

“You know, the cloud cities did try to put together ruling parties like they had in the old days, but they bickered so much amongst themselves that nothing ever got done. So, it was decided then that having one ruling family, as long as they were just and fair, caused less conflict.”

“And what if the ruler isn't just or fair?”

“Then I think you know what happens,” my papa says with a raise of his eyebrows.

My father didn't have to say more, especially considering the company we were in at the moment. Most of the royals benefitted from the profits the Amador's took in from the overlords. None of them would complain that the down-worlders were being mistreated. In fact, they probably thought the people who lived on the surface were lucky we didn't just annihilate them on the spot. We could though. We could easily destroy them with one push of a button and scour the surface clean of their existence.

But, as this gathering was supposed to show, we needed the down-worlders. We needed the goods and services they provided us. Without them, we would be nothing, and I feared many of the citizens of Cirrus had forgotten that simple fact. One world didn't function without the other. It was a symbiotic relationship, even if one of the parties took more than their fair share.

Not long after our arrival, the trumpeters blow their horns causing me to jump slightly from the unexpected explosion of sound.

“What was that for?” I ask my father.

“It's time for the overlords to be presented and bring in their tribute,” he tells me.

All eyes turn to the top of the staircase where the entrance to the room is.

There stands a man I recognize. It's David Dean, the overlord of agriculture. He is tall, lean and handsome with shoulder length brown hair and a look of superiority about him that isn't exactly overbearing, just visible.

He descends the staircase and walks up to the empress.

“Overlord Dean,” Empress Catherine says, bowing her head slightly in greeting as he in turn bows deeply to her at the waist. “We welcome you to Cirrus.”

“Thank you, your majesty,” Overlord Dean says. “I am grateful to be here and to offer you my tribute.”

A royal page walks up to Overlord Dean and takes a memo-card from him. The page inserts the card into a device he holds which I know will upload the monetary value of the card into the royal treasury. The amount of the tribute is displayed on a holographic board on the wall behind the empress. It will show everyone present how much each of the overlord's tributes are.

All four of the overlords enter into the room one by one and offer their tribute to the empress. It's not until the last tribute is to be given that my interest piques. I direct my gaze to the top of the stairs with bated breath, wondering if Overlord Devereaux will actually make an appearance this year. Since this is the first Tribute Ball I've attended, I'm not sure what will happen if he doesn't.

A man appears at the top of the landing and I gasp. I don't gasp because the earth beneath my feet moves or because my heart quakes. I lose my breath because the man at the top of the stairs is glowing to my eyes, just like my father does.

I turn my head to look at my father and find him already staring at me, like he was watching for my reaction to the man.

Before I can ask my papa who the man is, the herald calls out, “As representative for Overlord Devereaux, Emissary Jered Alburn will be presenting tribute.”

I look back at the man as he makes his way down the staircase.

He's handsome in a dashing sort of way with brown hair and eyes. I notice him scan the crowd before him as he descends the staircase until his gaze rests on me. He smiles. It's the type of smile my father has given me countless times, one of unabashed pride.

Yet, why would he feel anything for me, much less pride? And why is he glowing just like my father?

As he stands in front of the empress, he bows to her deeply.

“Emissary Alburn,” Empress Catherine says, “it's lovely to see you again. I hope your overlord is well.”

“Overlord Devereaux sends his deepest regrets that he can't be here in person, your majesty,” Jered says. “He hopes the tribute he has sent will make up for it.”

The royal page walks up to Jered and takes his memo-card. After the page inserts the card into his device and the amount of the tribute is uploaded onto the holographic display, I can hear the faint gasps of the crowd around me. The sum overshadows all of the other tributes paid that night. You would have to add up all of the other overlord’s tributes and multiply that sum by ten just to come close to what Overlord Devereaux made for the royal family in the past year.

“My, my,” the empress says, looking and sounding happier than I've ever seen her, “Overlord Devereaux has obviously been very busy this year. Please give him our best regards and gratitude when you return home.”

Jered bows to the empress once more.

“I will, your majesty.”

Empress Catherine stands from her throne to address the crowd.

“Now that the tributes have been made, please enjoy the revelry for the rest of the evening,” she announces, clapping her hands twice signaling the musicians situated on the balcony behind her throne to begin playing the tune of a waltz.

I keep my eyes on Jered and ask my father, “Why does he look like you to me?”

I don't want to ask why a man I've never met before is glowing in mixed company, but I have a feeling my father will know exactly what it is I'm asking without me having to spell it out for him.

“Because he's as devoted to you as I am,” my father answers.

I tear my eyes away from Jered and look at my papa.

“Who is he to me?” I ask.

“Someone who would lay down his life to protect you,” my papa tells me in a whisper. “Just as I would.”

“Andre.”

I look away from my papa and find Jered standing in front of us, extending his hand out to my father.

My papa shakes the other man's hand vigorously. “Jered, my old friend, it's good to see you again. Once a year just doesn't seem like it's enough.”

Jered's gaze turns to me, and he smiles kindly.

“You're even lovelier than the images your father has sent of you over the years, Anna,” Jered says, leaning in and kissing me on the cheek like we've known each other forever.

I don't take offense to the rather intimate act. For some reason, it feels natural coming from him, like he's a long lost uncle or old friend.

“Thank you,” I say to the compliment.

As I look into Jered's kind, brown eyes, I see a love there that I don't quite understand. It isn't the love of a man for a woman, but one I've seen in my father's eyes, like I'm his daughter too.

“Have we ever met before, Mr. Alburn?”

“Once,” he says, “but it was on the day you were born which means you wouldn't have a memory of our meeting. And please, call me Jered.”

“You knew my mother?”

Sadness enters Jered's eyes, briefly eclipsing his happiness to see me.

“Yes, I knew Amalie quite well. Her passing was a great loss to all of us.”

“Us?” I ask, finding this an odd thing for him to say. “You and my father, you mean?”

Jered glances in my father's direction like maybe he's said too much.

Before I can get any sort of clarification, the trumpets blare again causing the revelry in the room to come to a complete stand still.

“Ladies and gentleman,” the herald says, “Emperor Augustus Charles Ronaldo Amador.”

I look to the top of the staircase and see Auggie standing there looking out at the crowd below him. He's dressed in a white suit with a long top coat embroidered with an ivy design in gold thread around the edges. He looks every bit the part of an emperor, but...something doesn't seem quite right about the smile on his face. Auggie has never been one to seek out attention, yet, the swagger with which he walks down the stairs, like he knows he's the most powerful person in the room, and the spread of his lips into a smile that shows his pleasure in such a fact, tells me something is wrong with my best friend.

“It can't be,” I hear my papa say almost angrily beside me.

“We have to get her out of here,” Jered whispers to my father, an urgent quality to his voice.

I know he's talking about me, but I don't know why he thinks I need to leave just because Auggie has arrived.

Before either of them can say more, Auggie walks up to me and holds out his hand.

“Care for a dance with your soon to be husband, Lady Annalisse?”

If the eyes are truly windows into our souls, I instantly wonder what has become of the pure, joyous spirit belonging to my best friend.

Auggie grabs one of my hands roughly without waiting for my answer and practically drags me onto the dance floor. He waves an imperious hand to the band on the balcony signaling them to play a song.

Auggie forcefully pulls my body up against his. His frame is pressing so hard into mine it's almost painful. He begins to twirl me around the ballroom floor, but it feels like it's more for punishment than fun.

“Auggie, what's wrong?” I demand. “Why are you doing this?”

Auggie just smiles at me and says nothing.

Abruptly, Auggie comes to a complete stop on the dance floor and lifts his hand again which causes the band to cease playing its music. He quickly releases me from his hold like he doesn’t want to have anything else to do with me.