The Consuming Fire (The Interdependency #2)(77)

“Sir?”

“Send a message to Xi’an traffic control to inform the emperox that her spy ship the Samuel III is back from her secret mission and ready to dock and report,” Marce said. “And send it out in the open.”

“Because spy ships do that,” Gamis said.

“Spy ships that don’t want to run the risk of being hit by long-range missiles from the Wus between here and Xi’an do, yes.”

“The Samuel III?” Chenevert asked.

“It’s an inside joke between me and the emperox,” Marce told him. “I’ll explain it later.”

“I’m just impressed you know the emperox well enough to have inside jokes with her.”

“Well, you know,” Marce said, awkwardly. “She’s pretty approachable.”

“Indeed,” murmured Chenevert, clearly reappraising Marce, who felt deeply uncomfortable being reappraised.

“Could you send that message, please?” he said, to change the subject.

“Already done, since we were already being hailed by Xi’an traffic control,” Chenevert said.

“Are you sure it’s Xi’an?” Gamis asked Chenevert. “You’re new here.”

“I’m monitoring other chatter from the same source,” Chenevert said. “If your friends the Wus are planning to lure us in, they’re doing so very elaborately.”

“You never know,” Gamis said, defensively.

“No, you never do,” Chenevert said. “Although in this case, it seems unlikely, as we’ve just been directed to the private imperial docks. I’ve been told a detail has been detached to escort us in.” He looked over at Marce. “You need to teach me your inside jokes.”

*

The Auvergne was met at the private imperial docking area by a shuttle full of imperial guards, who went through the ship stem to stern, removing the crew of the Princess, who had been kept reasonably comfortably in three staterooms, as they did so. When the Princess’s crew had departed on the shuttle and a small contingent of imperial guards were left behind, a second shuttle arrived, this one carrying several other guards and the emperox.

“Lord Marce,” Grayland said as she exited the shuttle. “It pleases us to see you again.”

“Your Majesty,” Marce said. He was aware that Grayland was using her royal “we” voice for the benefit of the Imperial Guard, and not as a distancing tactic, and in this very formal moment his brain flashed back to Cardenia and him naked in her bed, because brains were like that. He very much hated his brain for it. “It is likewise a pleasure to see you.”

Grayland looked around and then returned her gaze to Marce. “The Samuel III, is it.”

“Actually the Auvergne, ma’am.”

“Lord Marce, this is not the ship you left on.”

“No, ma’am.”

“And while we are happy to know that we possess a spy ship so secret that even we were not aware that we possessed it, nevertheless we are concerned about the disposition of the Oliveer Bransid and her crew.”

“The Bransid was attacked, and her crew lost, except for me and five others.”

“By whom?”

“A ship that followed us from Hub space, ma’am. We captured her crew and brought them with us. Your guards took them off the ship to be held more securely than here.”

“And your friend, Dr. Roynold?”

Marce looked down and shook his head, silently.

“We are deeply sorry for you, Lord Marce,” Grayland said.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“We have many matters we wish to discuss with you, but perhaps a shuttle bay receiving area is not the best place for that. Would you accompany us back to the palace for further discussion?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. But before that, I would ask you to come with me for a moment first.”

“For what purpose, Lord Marce?”

“There’s someone on the ship I think you should meet.”

“They may accompany us to the palace, Lord Marce. As may the rest of your remaining crew.”

“Thank you, ma’am. The thing is, it’s not quite that simple.”

A few minutes later, and after having been briefly introduced to the remainder of the crew, Grayland and Marce stepped into the bridge. A guard had entered with them, but Grayland dismissed him with a nod. The guard scowled but left.

“Marce, I really am sorry about Roynold,” Grayland said, quietly. “I know she was important to you.”

“Thank you—” Marce stopped and smiled. “I almost just called you ‘Cardenia’ in public.”

“Don’t do that. I don’t mind that you almost did. I like it. Just, yeah. Don’t do that.”

“I’ll remember.”

Grayland looked around. “Aren’t I supposed to be meeting someone?”

“Yes,” Marce said. “Monsieur Chenevert, you can come out now.”

Chenevert appeared, shimmering, which struck Marce as a very showoff-y way to do it. Grayland’s eyes got wide as he did so. Chenevert walked over to Grayland and offered an elaborate bow. “Your Majesty,” he said.

Grayland stared, and then smiled, and then did something that Marce was not expecting. She offered a similarly elaborate bow. “Your Majesty,” she said, to Chenevert.