Ascension Saga (Interstellar Brides): Book 3

Prologue

Queen Celene Herakles, Location Unknown

I wasn't fooled. Not by the feast laid out on the long table before me, nor the false smile on the face of the man stuffing his mouth with food as if he hadn't a care in the world. I knew the truth, and the warm clothing and slippers he'd provided a few hours before I'd been escorted to this dining room did not make me want to talk. Not to him. Not to anyone on this doomed space cruiser. They’d given me a ReGen wand and access to a bathing tube. I felt well… for now.

This was a test of patience, a test of wills. Who would endure? A test of faith. Trust. Patience, for it had been twenty-seven years since I’d been home, to Alera. I’d escaped their machinations all those years ago, but they’d finally found me.

I had no regrets. Back on Earth, I had no doubt that my beloved Adam was worried. But he knew me, knew our daughters. He had chosen to love me despite who I was and the future that we both knew would come for us.

I imagined him back on Earth, impatient. Trusting in his daughters. It wouldn’t be easy, but I knew it was only a matter of time before he came for all of us. He was a Marine who’d gone to college, then law school. He’d earned the respect of his peers and became a judge. He was rock solid. My anchor and my love. When he arrived, he would fight for our daughters with every ounce of his being – the soldier and the judge. These idiot kidnappers wouldn’t have figured him into their equation. And they hadn’t expected Trinity, Faith and Destiny. They doubted my strength, and they doubted my daughters as well. The attitude might be more typical of Earth, but for an Aleran male, it was quite surprising. Women ruled the world. Literally. And always had.

While these mercenaries—and their master—had captured the queen, they’d accomplished nothing. If my spire went dark, Trinity would ascend to the throne. My capture, the interrogations, this meal, were all for nothing. Twenty-seven years of waiting, twenty-seven years of planning, of organizing. Of preparing my daughters to take their rightful place, would not be ruined by one meat-head pawn and an enemy afraid to show his face.

While I was queen and held the highest power on Alera, three princesses shared it now. It would only be a matter of time before they realized that. And so, I continued to be patient. And endure. And have faith that my children would become the powerful rulers they were destined to be.

I lifted a piece of well-cooked meat to my lips. Not because I was hungry, but because I needed the strength to survive for my daughters. I didn’t want to die. Of course not. But now I could die without the worry for my people. They were in good hands with Trinity, and with Faith and Destiny by her side. I hoped to live so I could see them rule, to see them seated beside me on the throne.

This idiot had no idea who he was messing with. As Destiny often said, no one fucked with the Jones women. Including me. I taught my girls everything I knew. And so had their father.

I hid a smile at that thought and glanced at my captor. He was gorging himself and lifted a carafe of wine. He poured the dark liquid, filling my glass until it nearly ran over. He swallowed, then burped. “Drink. Eat. Then we will talk.”

Talk? As my daughters would say—that was soooo not going to happen.

I ignored the wine and reached for water instead. I needed to keep a clear head. The food was quite good, a wide variety of delicious meats, cheeses and fruits. Some, I hadn't eaten since I was a girl, their flavors exploding on my tongue like a thousand memories long forgotten.

"Where are your daughters, Celene? I assume all three are yours?" He spoke while still chewing, his teeth ripping apart the meat, small chunks flying out of his mouth to land on the table. Gross.

“I thought we were going to eat first, then talk,” I countered, then popped a berry into my mouth. I would not let him have the better of me, so I ignored him, closed my eyes and bit into the juicy flesh. I expected him to reach out, perhaps slap me for my backtalk, but the blow never came. Evidently, he wanted me whole, clean, content. For what, I didn’t know.

For now, I savored the sweet fruit. I used to pick berries with my grandmother in the mountains, laughing and playing in the tall grasses, chasing butterflies as she followed behind with a basket of woven silver. The citadel had given her the gift of nature, of being able to nurture plants and make them grow, to heal black, burned soil. To save a tree with a touch of her hand.

Chewing slowly, I wondered what gifts the citadel had given my daughters. The spires were alight. My captors had revealed this to me, shown me the vids. My girls had been chosen—just as I knew they would—and blessed by the ancient intelligence housed in the citadel's walls. But blessed with what? I was desperately curious. When I’d first heard of their success, I'd hoped that my Destiny would be given a gift that would help her track me to my prison. I still held that hope, that they would find me and I could give this asshole a middle finger salute. I might have taught my daughters some things, but they’d taught me as well.

With a deep sigh, I opened my eyes and looked at the screen that filled most of the wall opposite me. If this were a dinner party, the view of Alera from where we orbited in space would be fantastic. Beautiful. I knew the planet looked much like Earth, but with more green hues in the atmosphere, less water. More mountains. Like my home. Mytikas. A home I might never see again. Hope. Faith. Trust. I clenched my hands together in my lap. I had to stay strong, but there was no ReGen wand for one’s psyche.

“Where are the royal jewels, Celene?”

I shrugged, putting a few berries in my mouth. So much for later. “I'm sure my daughter has

them by now.”

“No!” He slammed his hand down on the table, making the silverware jump and land with a rattle. “Where. Are. They?”