"So," I said, breaking every speed law in three systems, "we're just not going to talk about that kiss?"
"The princess is dying," Meus replied, but her hand was on my thigh, fingers pressing through the leather of my racing pants.
"She's probably faking it."
"That's a terrible thing to say." Her fingers traced higher. "Also probably true."
I took a corner at a speed that definitely violated physics, the speeder's compensators screaming in protest. Meus didn't even flinch—her hand just gripped tighter, and I had to focus very hard on not crashing into a building.
"You're enjoying this," I accused.
"The potential political catastrophe or the reckless driving?"
"The torture."
"I have no idea what you mean." Her thumb traced a particularly distracting pattern. "Eyes on the road, my lord."
"Fuck the road."
"Later. Princess first, fucking second."
"I prefer the reverse order."
"I noticed." She finally removed her hand, and I could breathe again. "That kiss was—"
"Incredible? Mind-blowing? Worth breaking seventeen protocols for?"
"Impulsive," she said, but her voice was warm. "We need to discuss boundaries."
"Now? While racing to a maybe-assassination?"
"Especially now." She checked her weapon, movements sharp and efficient. "I can't protect you if I'm distracted by... this."
"This?" I pulled into the palace's emergency entrance, guards already waving us through. "We're calling it 'this' now?"
"Would you prefer 'monumentally bad idea' or 'career-ending decision'?"
"I prefer 'inevitable.'"
She looked at me then, really looked at me, and for a moment the mask cracked. "Raven—"
"Lord Raven! Commander!" A medic rushed up as we exited. "This way! The princess's condition is deteriorating!"
And just like that, we were back in crisis mode.
The palace medical wing looked like someone had declared war on calm. Guards at every corner, medics running with equipment, and nobles clustering in worried groups while trying to look important. The Emperor's personal physician nearly bowled me over in his rush to get somewhere.
"Fifty credits says she poisoned herself," I muttered.
Meus smacked my arm. "You can't bet on assassination attempts."
"Since when?"
"Since—" She paused. "Actually, what's the over-under on self-inflicted?"
"Three to one odds. Four to one if she did it during dinner for maximum drama."
"You're both terrible," Admiral Korrath appeared like a disapproving ghost. "The princess of our most important alliance is fighting for her life, and you're making wagers?"
"Just processing grief in my own way," I said solemnly. "Everyone handles near-death experiences differently."
He looked like he wanted to throw me out an airlock. "The Emperor is with her. He... requests your presence."
'Requests' the way a black hole 'requests' nearby matter.
"Lead the way, Admiral." I fell into step beside him, Meus flanking my other side. "Any leads on who did it?"
"Security is investigating." His tone suggested security was being spectacularly useless. "The poison was delivered through a gift. A bottle of Zephyrian wine, supposedly from an admirer."
"She drank mystery wine from an anonymous source?" I couldn't hide my disbelief. "The woman who probably has three escape routes from every room?"
Korrath's eye twitched. "Perhaps you should save your observations for the Emperor."
The medical suite's doors were flanked by enough guards to invade a small planet. They parted as we approached, and I stepped into what looked like a very expensive, very dramatic theater production.
The princess lay on a medical bed that probably cost more than a fighter squadron, looking like a poisoned angel. If angels wore silk negligees to assassination attempts and somehow managed to look seductive while "dying."
My father stood at the foot of the bed, radiating the kind of controlled fury that made seasoned generals wet themselves. The medical displays showed vitals that looked concerning but not critical—elevated heart rate, minor respiratory distress, nothing that screamed 'immediate death.'
"Lord Raven," the princess gasped, turning those calculating eyes on me. "You came."
"Not yet," I muttered. Meus elbowed me hard enough to bruise.
"The doctors say I might die." She managed to make potential death look like a proposition. One hand clutched dramatically at her chest, which did interesting things to the negligee. "Unless..."
"Unless?"
"Unless someone gives me a reason to live." Her free hand reached out weakly. "Perhaps a kiss from my betrothed? For luck?"
Behind me, I heard Meus's hand move to her weapon. The Emperor watched with the expression of a man judging whether his son was clever enough to see through obvious bullshit.
Time to play the game.
I moved to her bedside, taking her outstretched hand. "Your Highness, I'm honored by your... request. But I couldn't possibly take advantage of you in such a weakened state."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. Point to me.
"How noble," she breathed. "But what if I don't survive? What if we never get the chance to—"
"Then I'll have to ensure you survive." I turned to the head physician. "What are we dealing with? Specifically."
The doctor, a nervous Terran who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else, consulted his datapad. "The preliminary tests suggest a neurotoxin variant, possibly Thessian in origin, but we're still—"
I held up a hand. "Thessian? Purple coloration in the wine? Sweet aftertaste?"
"Y-yes, my lord. How did you—"
"Check for Paradise subset markers. I'll bet my racing winnings it's Thessian Paradise Poison." I kept my voice casual, like I identified exotic poisons every day. "Dramatic symptoms, zero lethality. Popular with nobles who want attention, not a body count."
The room went very quiet.
The princess's grip on my hand tightened—not weak at all. The Emperor's expression shifted from fury to something that might have been approval. Meus moved slightly closer, her tension different now.
"Run the test," the Emperor commanded. The doctor scurried to comply.
"Thessian Paradise," the princess said, dropping the dying act entirely. She sat up, silk sliding in strategic ways. "Clever boy. How did you know?"
"Lucky guess," I lied smoothly. "Plus, you're not actually dying. Your breathing's too controlled, pupils responsive, and you've been flexing your toes this entire time. Dead people don't care about maintaining muscle tone."
She laughed—a real laugh, not the calculated tinkling she'd used before. "Oh, I like you. Father was right."
"Father?" I glanced at the Emperor.
"Did I not mention?" She smiled like a shark. "The Emperor and my father have been corresponding about our match for months. This was all a test."
"The poisoning?"
"The response to it." She stretched, definitely on purpose. "Someone did try to kill me. But I switched the wines before drinking. I wanted to see what you'd do."
"And if I'd fallen for it?"
"Then you wouldn't be worth marrying." She stood, not bothering to grab a robe. "But you passed. Reward?"
"Your Highness," Meus stepped forward, professional mask perfect despite the murder in her eyes. "Perhaps you should rest. The poison, even diluted—"
"Is already leaving my system." The princess moved closer to me, each step calculated. "But you're right. I should rest. Lord Raven, would you escort me to my quarters? I feel so... weak."
She swayed dramatically. I caught her automatically, and she pressed against me in ways that made thinking difficult.
"Of course," I said, because what else could the concerned fiancé say? "Meus, please have security sweep the princess's quarters."
"I'll do it personally," Meus said, tone professionally neutral. The temperature still dropped several degrees.
As I helped the princess toward the door—she leaned on me far more than necessary—the Emperor's voice stopped us.
"Son. A moment."
I transferred the princess to a medic, ignoring her pout, and approached my father. He waited until we were relatively alone before speaking.
"You saw through her game."
"It wasn't subtle."
"No," he agreed. "But most would have played along anyway. You didn't."
"Should I have?"
"That depends." His red eyes bore into mine. "What do you think of her?"
Dangerous. Clever. Ambitious. Hot as hell and twice as deadly.
"She'll make an interesting empress," I said.
"Yes." He smiled, and it was terrifying. "She will. Try not to kill each other before the wedding."
"No promises."
I left before he could assign me more impossible tasks. The princess was already gone, whisked away by medics who probably weren't necessary. Meus waited by the door, posture perfect, expression unreadable.
"Your quarters?" she asked.
"Fuck yes."
We made it three corridors before she shoved me into an alcove, mouth hot against mine. I grabbed her waist, spinning us so she was against the wall, and she made a sound that short-circuited my brain.
"Someone could see," she gasped.
"Don't care."
"The princess—"
"Can wait." I kissed her neck, feeling her pulse race. "This can't."
She pulled back, eyes dark. "Your quarters. Now. Before I break more protocols in a public hallway."
We barely made it. The door had just closed when she was on me again, hands pulling at my shirt, mouth demanding. I lifted her easily, her legs wrapping around my waist, and stumbled toward the bedroom.
"This is a bad idea," she breathed against my neck.
"The worst," I agreed, pulling off her jacket.
"The Emperor will—"
"Not find out." I set her on the bed, taking a moment to appreciate the view. "Unless you plan on telling him?"
"Fuck no." She pulled me down. "Now stop talking."
I was happy to comply.
Later—much later—we lay tangled in sheets that had definitely seen better days. Meus traced patterns on my chest, occasionally pressing on bruises she'd left.
"The princess knows," she said quietly.
"About this?"
"About you being different." She propped herself up on an elbow. "The way she tested you—she was looking for something."
"Everyone says I'm different lately," I deflected. "Maybe I just grew up."
"Maybe." But she didn't sound convinced. "Raven, if something's wrong—"
"Nothing's wrong." I pulled her back down. "Everything's finally right."
My door chimed. Then again, insistently.
"Ignore it," I mumbled.
"It's the priority chime," Meus said, already reaching for her clothes. "That's—"
The door opened anyway, security override flashing. Admiral Korrath stood in the entrance, taking in the scene with military efficiency.
"Lord Raven. Commander." His tone was sharp. "We have a situation."
"Another assassination?" I grabbed my pants. "It's been like three hours."
"No, my lord." He paused. "Someone's leaked footage of your racing tonight. With commentary about the Crown Prince engaging in illegal activities."
Meus went very still. "Footage?"
"High quality. Multiple angles." Korrath's smile was sharp. "The Emperor wants to see you. Both of you. Immediately."
Well, fuck.
The game just got more complicated.