Royal Recruit - Susan Grant Page 0,60
I’m proved wrong. I pray I am. But the questions have to be asked. I have a lot invested in the Coalition remaining strong.” He touched a finger to the underside of her chin and tilted her face up. “My home planet’s welfare depends on it as much as your well-being does.”
Jared’s eyes were so intensely green, so alive, like the summer meadow grass that sprouted for such a short time each year. With him in your life you’ll have the green of summertime all year round. The thought was more soothing than it should have been. He could be taken from her in an instant.
Didn’t he know how quickly it could happen? He was so determined to do good, so forthright in his crusade for honest answers, thinking he could make their worlds safer, but this was the Coalition and the Drakken Empire was clawing at the gates. She envied her husband’s apparent innocence of that fact as much as she knew he despaired of hers.
Chapter Sixteen
Jared strode into the gym where Keira had been working out with a smart-sword, perfecting the ancient moves. Although he often joined her for exercise sessions to practice his martial arts while she worked with weaponry—she very much enjoyed when he was there—the sight of the sword seemed to bring him up short.
She lowered the glowing tip to the floor. It made a small sizzle. “Don’t worry, dear husband. You are not in any danger of losing your male parts. I don’t think I’d be able to survive without them.”
“That makes two of us.” His kiss was warm and lengthy. Then he walked across the room to a refreshment bar where Taye served the disgusting hot drink Jared loved so much. Coffee. Ugh. But then her husband felt similarly about the pungent hot and sour beverage that was a staple at any Coalition breakfast table.
As he sipped the concoction, his Earth-jeans stretched deliciously tight across toned, muscular buttocks. He was so marvelously alien.
And visibly unhappy. “What is wrong?” she asked.
“Vemekk, your intelligence minister, denied my claim that the transport was attacked.”
Keira’s good cheer faltered. Many weeks had gone by without mention of the issue. She’d secretly hoped he’d forgotten it and they could concentrate on each other.
“I asked if they’d pulled the onboard flight camera and analyzed the destruction of the cryopods, and your military leaders freaked.”
“Freaked?”
“That’s English for shocked and upset. Apparently no one had told Prime-Admiral Zaafran anything about the pods. Can you believe it? He promised a full investigation by a military tribunal now that Vemekk’s office concluded that the whole thing was nothing but a terrible accident.”
Sarcasm gave Jared’s tone a hard edge. “Both he and Fair Cirrus are angry they were left out of the loop during the investigation. Vemekk and Rissallen claim it’s a civilian matter. The commanders, of course, disagree.”
“Infighting. How tedious. I feel sorry for Ismae having to deal with Zaafran.”
“He’s the leader of your military. Why do you hate him so much?”
“Because he thinks he’s better than me. His disrespect shines like a laser in his eyes.”
Jared pondered her as he sipped his wretched drink. “What have you done lately to earn his respect?”
“Respect is not something I, a goddess, have to earn. It is given freely if I so choose.”
Her husband did not appear impressed. “Zaafran may sense your utter disinterest in Coalition affairs and dislike it—not because he dislikes you, but because he feels you’re putting yourself in danger by hiding from the facts. Yet, he can’t say anything to you because he’ll anger you. After all, you are the queen.”
Was that really what Zaafran thought? She’d always thought the man despised her, and so she despised him back. He was so silent and intense that it was possible Jared’s take on the matter was true. Bah! She had not become desperate enough to befriend the man. Not now, nor anytime soon.
She shoved her sword at an attendant who carried it away to storage. “Sit in on the next session of parliament,” Jared said. “Your throne is there. Always empty. It seems wrong. Your presence would make a difference to Zaafran—to all of them. We’ll go together. What do you say? Is it a date?”
She recoiled. The very idea of setting foot inside that horrible chamber made her insides twist. “I have a massage scheduled.”
“That’s days away. Reschedule it.”
She unfastened her arm guards and threw them to a waiting eunuch. “I do not move my massages or any activity to watch the