Ka’rissa stopped reading, her eyes wide.
“This very seven-day!” she exclaimed, looking at James. “Dearest, I have completely lost track of time! What is today by my world’s calendar?”
“Six-day,” James said, frowning. “It seems that tomorrow, Duke Grabbington is going to try to usurp your rightful throne.”
“Wait—Duke Grabbington?” Sylvan shook his head. “Explain, please. The Breadcrumbs talks about a Lord Shammington—it doesn’t mention anything about a Duke.”
Rapidly, Ka’rissa explained to him about the lecherous, rejected suitor who had donned a disguise in order Join with her even though she had rejected him. Sylvan frowned deeply as he heard how the male had been planning to let her burn to death so he could rule Regalia Five on his own, without her interference.
“He must have gotten a pile of ashes from the fireplace and claimed that it was your remains,” James said to his new mate. “And now he plans to pin your supposed death on Lady Mildew and claim the throne for himself.”
“And all of it is happening tomorrow!” The Princess put a hand to her cheek, which had gone slightly pale. “What are we going to do?”
“What do you want to do?” Sylvan asked reasonably. “Do you wish to get involved? The Kindred High Council will support you, if you do. We are your sworn allies and you are the rightful ruler of Regalia Five, after all.”
“I feel I must get involved,” Ka’rissa said earnestly. “Lady Mildew is a horrid old woman and she has been cruel to me in the past, but I cannot see her hang. Just as I cannot, in good conscious, allow my planet to be ruled by an unprincipled monster like Duke Grabbington!” She shook her head. “But how are we to stop him? We only have a day to prepare!”
“That should be long enough,” Sylvan remarked. “According to Lady TittleTattle’s Breadcrumbs, both the hanging and the coronation are to take place tomorrow at noon and both will be broadcast planet-wide. I think it’s safe to say, almost every person on Regalia Five will be watching.”
“I see.” James leaned forward, knitting his brow. “That is, I think I begin to see your plan, Commander Sylvan.”
“I do as well,” Ka’rissa said cautiously. “But it will be tricky to pull off, I fear.”
“The Kindred are behind you,” Sylvan said firmly. “We have stealth technology that will allow us to enter unobserved until the last minute. Now, let us plan the details…”
61
The Grand Ballroom in the Royal Palace had been completely redecorated for the big day. In the center of the huge room, a large stage had been erected. It included both a golden throne…and a hangman’s gibbet. To one side of the gibbet stood the hapless Lady Mildew. She was dressed in black with her hands tied behind her back.
On the other side of the stage was the Steward, who was at last ready to hand over the crown, now that a worthy successor to the old King had finally been found. He was sitting not on the throne, but on the small silver chair which was usually reserved for the Steward during such ceremonies.
Before the stage were numerous communications specialists with their cameras and equipment. All of Regalia Five would be glued to their viewscreens on this very special day, both to witness the coronation of a new King and the hanging of the villainess who had killed the lovely young Princess before she could ever become their Queen.
Duke Grabbington surveyed all of this with delight from the double doors leading into the ballroom. His wig, with the projection bead firmly in place, was on his head, showing the youthful appearance of the late Lord Shammington to all who looked at him. And soon it would be King Shammington the Just, he told himself. Or maybe King Shammington the Wise. Or possibly King Shammington the Handsome. He hadn’t decided what he would call himself yet—what title would be entered into the history books. He only knew that all his dreams of absolute power and untold wealth were about to be realized at last.
Of course, there was the little mystery of what had actually happened to Princess Ka’rissa. But the Duke didn’t concern himself with that overly much. One of the guards had seen her running out into the gardens. Probably she had combusted out there, somewhere on the vast grounds of the palace, and was now nothing but a pile of ashes and some melted slag from her Chastity Device under some distant tree or bush.
Where, exactly, she had died didn’t matter to the Duke. And since it had been several days since she had disappeared on their “wedding night,” he was quite sure she was dead. There was no way she could have survived her Heat Cycle rising without being able to slake her Heat. And no one could slake it for her, since the Chastity Device had been completely unbreakable and the only key to it had been destroyed.