Burning for Love (Kindred Tales)

“Your other choice,” Lady Mildew continued relentlessly, “Is to let the Princess go. Oh, she may grieve for a little while, but she’s young and her broken heart will mend,” she went on. “And in time, she’ll learn to love the handsome, charming young man the Steward has picked for her. The young man with Royal blood in his veins who will not cause the people to rise up and start a civil war because he is not a foreign robot from another planet trying to rule them! Peace will be preserved and the Princess will make a lovely Queen and a happy wife and mother. Her future of happiness and prosperity will be assured.”

She glared up at James. “Those are your choices—the way Ka’rissa’s life goes is entirely up to you, Sir Robot. Which will you choose?”

James just stared at her for a moment, trying to process her words. He had to admit, he hadn’t thought of the long-term consequences of a Joining between himself and Ka’rissa. Oh, he had considered how it might impact the relations of the Regalians with his own people, the Kindred. But he hadn’t thought about how the Regalian people would feel if they thought a foreign male was ruling them. He had simply taken for granted that they would treat Ka’rissa as their rightful ruler, no matter who her Consort was.

Now he saw that was a misconception. In a society as unbalanced and unfair to females as the Regalian one, it wasn’t at all surprising that they would believe James to be the true ruler if he Joined with Ka’rissa. And of course they would resent him.

“She has a chance at true happiness now,” Lady Mildew said, breaking into his thoughts. She grabbed James by the arm and peered up at him earnestly. “Let her go, Kindred! Let her be happy.”

James looked across the ballroom and saw Ka’rissa dancing in her new suitor’s arms. She was smiling up at him, the way she had smiled up at James himself, when they had danced together. Lord Shammington looked happy, too. He was gazing down at her and laughing at something she had said. Already, he seemed to be halfway in love with the pretty little Princess.

Ordinarily, the sight of another male with his female would have sent James into Rage. But now he had to admit that the Princess wasn’t his female. And he also had to admit that the things Lady Mildew was saying to him made sense—they were logical.

If I had a working emotion damper, I would be able to acknowledge the truth of her words immediately, he admitted to himself. Of course the Princess would be happier with one of her own kind—one her people accept and expect her to marry. Not a foreign interloper like me who is not even completely organic.

“Thank you. I will…think about what you have said to me,” he told Lady Mildew, who was still looking at him expectantly.

“You do that, Sir Robot,” she said, frowning at him. “You think long and hard if you really want to ruin Princess Ka’rissa’s life for her, just as she’s about to ascend to the throne! And then you think about what you’re going to say to her the next time you see her. Because if you tell her you love her, she’ll be as much in love with you as ever—I’m certain of it. But if you tell her you don’t love her, why, that will clear the way to let her love the man she ought to love—the one she’s going to marry.”

And with a final nod, she stumped away into the crowd, leaving James to think about what she’d said.

45

“What do you mean, you’re leaving? James, you said you loved me!” Rissa felt as though her heart was breaking as she looked up at the big Kindred. Lady Mildew had—quite unexpectedly—allowed her a few moments alone with him this evening before her bath. But what he was telling her was terrible news!

“Princess, I must leave after your wedding tomorrow morning,” he repeated stoically. There was no emotion in his metallic blue eyes as he spoke—no regret or sorrow that Rissa could see at all. “My mission will be over once you are safely wed,” he continued.

“But…but I was hoping that maybe you wouldn’t want me to wed Lord Shammington,” she whispered, looking up at him hopefully. “I could go with you, James. I could abdicate the throne.”

This thought had occurred to her during the interminable dancing that night. She was fairly certain one of her ancestors—called by the history books, King Thomas the Hasty—had done so, when he wished to marry a foreign woman from another planet. Why could she not do the same?

But James was shaking his head.

“I am afraid that is unacceptable, Princess,” he said coldly. “You cannot give up your Royal responsibility to Regalia Five because of me.”