Burning for Love (Kindred Tales)
Page 11
“I understand,” James said.
“But the instructions are a bit complicated.” The butler looked worried. “Sometimes, in the heat and fluster of being presented at Court, people forget them or mix them up. Perhaps I’d better tell you again.”
“I think not.” James looked directly at him and repeated everything he’d just said, word-for-word, even using the male’s own tone and inflections. When he finished, he raised an eyebrow inquiringly. “Well? Do you believe me now?”
“My word!” The Butler looked at him, his face betraying shock and awe. “You might look like a man, but you really are a robot! How’d you do that then? You sounded just like me!”
“My brain enhancements give me photographic and eidetic memories,” James said blandly. “And mimicry is an exceptionally easy skill to acquire.”
“You talk like a robot, too!” The Butler was still giving him that shocked, look.
James reflected that it was a good thing he had spent the last five years aboard the Mother Ship learning to read the emotions on the faces of others, otherwise he might have taken the male’s wide eyes and open mouth as a sign of some kind of aggression.
“I thought I was about to be presented to the Steward and the Princess,” he said. “Have the plans changed?”
The butler seemed to recollect himself.
“Oh, no—no indeed,” he said quickly. “Come with me to the curtain if you would please, Sir Robot.”
James followed the little male—but then, all the males here on Regalia Five were small in contrast to his own Kindred size and musculature. They went down a long hallway which ended in a two-story-tall arch that was hung with rich crimson curtains. Just under the curtains, James could see the start of a carpet that was the same, deep red color.
Two attendants stood on either side of the curtains, ready to pull them open, and the herald—a servant in vivid red and gold livery—stood in the center with a golden scroll in one hand.
“Is this him then—the Kindred robot?” he asked the head butler, who nodded quickly.
“This is him.”
“He doesn’t look like a robot,” the herald objected.
“He is one, though,” the butler assured him. “Better go on and announce him—I’m sure His Stewardship is waiting.”
“That he is.” The herald nodded and looked up at James. “You’re a big one then, aren’t you? Guess you might have trouble getting your head low enough when you bow. Don’t look much like a robot, though—other than your metal hand,” he added, nodding down at the black and silver, enhanced right hand which stuck out of the broad, floppy cuff of the gold brocade coat.
James frowned—he’d had enough of what the feelers called “small talk” and had no wish to discuss his enhancements.
“Am I going to be presented to the Steward and the Princess or not?” he demanded coldly.
“Oh yes—yes, indeed!” The herald snapped to attention. “Follow me and don’t move even an inch past the first part of the carpet until I finish announcing you.”
“Understood.” James nodded impatiently. “Let us go. I need to take stock of the situation and make certain the Princess is not in danger.”
“How could she be in danger in the middle of the Court Reception Hall with the Royal Guards all around her?” the herald demanded.
James didn’t deign to answer this ridiculous question. As a skilled assassin himself, he knew that one of the best places to take a target out was in the middle of a crowd, when no one was expecting it. Therefore, the Princess could be in danger right this minute and apparently none of the fools around her understood that.
“Announce me,” he growled, glaring down at the shorter male.
“Very well, Sir Robot!” the herald huffed. He made a motion to the two servants standing on either side of the archway. “Draw the Receiving curtains and be quick about it!”
Working in tandem, the two pulled on long, golden cords with enormous tassels on their ends and the crimson curtains in the tall archway parted.
James and the herald stepped out onto the crimson carpet and the herald raised his voice and shouted,
“Announcing Sir James, the Kindred robot sent from Commander Sylvan and Lady Sophia of the Kindred Mother Ship to guard her Royal Highness, Princess Ka’rissa!”
Musicians on either side of the door lifted silver trumpet-like instruments to their mouths and blew an elaborate fanfare, which James completely ignored, except to note that one of them was decidedly flat. Instead, he took a quick, but thorough look around the large Receiving Hall, taking in everyone there and calculating if they posed any kind of a threat.
The hall was crowded with Regalian Nobles, he noted. And most of the people gathered seemed to have a slight, pearlescent sheen to their skin. Not that very much skin could be seen, due to the layers of fancy clothing everyone wore. There were ruffles, buckles, brocade and lace everywhere he looked.