The Zenda Vendetta (TimeWars 4)

“I can see that, I suppose,” said Hentzau, “but it all seems needlessly elaborate to me. My patience is wearing thin.”

“Your impatience may yet be the death of you, my love,” she said. “You must learn to wait.”

“Well, I shall wait until tonight, at least,” he said. “What about tonight?” said Michael.

He stood in the doorway, holding the door open. Falcon glanced at him sharply, wondering if he had heard. He gave no sign of it. Hentzau could not appear to care less.

“We were discussing the dinner tonight,” she said, moving toward him. She came up to him and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. “Rupert is impatient to get back to Zenda to check upon the prisoner. I told him that he should wait until tonight. I would feel better knowing he was here to guard me while you were at the dinner. They might try anything to work against you. They could try to kidnap me and use me to make you release the king.”

“But what makes you think that you will be remaining here?” said Michael.

“You’re sending me away?”

“I will do no such thing. You shall attend the dinner with me.” He glanced down at her fencing apparel. “In fact, you had best be getting yourself ready.” He frowned. “I don’t know why you bother practicing your fencing. It is one thing for a girl whose father had desired a son to play at it, but it is useless for a woman. It is unseemly.”

“She plays at it rather well,” said Hentzau, with a smirk. “You should try her, Michael.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Now run along, dear, and prepare yourself.”

“Is it wise to take her to the dinner?” Hentzau said. “I mean, it would hardly ingratiate you to Flavia. You might do well to cultivate the favor of your future queen.” His eyes mocked them both. “A man in your position may find two women burdensome.”

“Take care of your insolence, Rupert,” Michael said. “When the time comes, I shall take Flavia as is my due. As to what she thinks or doesn’t think, I could not be less concerned.”

“What about yourself, Countess?” Hentzau said, addressing her, but baiting Michael. “Have you no thoughts upon the matter?”

“Flavia can warm his throne,” she said, smiling. “I shall be the one to warm his bed.”

“You see, Rupert?” Michael said. “Sophia and I understand one another.”

Hentzau gave an insouciant chuckle. “I would caution the man who believes he understands his woman.”

Michael narrowed his eyes. “That will be enough! I shall tolerate no veiled insults to Sophia in my presence.”

“Why,” said Hentzau, innocently, “was I insulting the countess? May Heaven forbid! I meant no such thing.”

“Stop it, both of you,” she said. “Dissension in our ranks serves only Sapt and von Tarlenheim. We must be patient. Time is on our side. We can afford to wait, while each day makes the imposter’s position more precarious. They are doubtless growing desperate by now and desperate men are vulnerable men.”

“You see, Rupert, how she always thinks of my interests above all else?” said Michael.

“Our interests,” she said. “It is in all our interests for you to become king. Isn’t that right, Rupert?”

Hentzau smirked and inclined his head slightly.

Simon Hawke

The Zenda Vendetta

“I shall go get ready, then,” she said. “Rupert, thank you for indulging me. I know I could never give you a good match, but it was kind of you to humor me. It helped alleviate some of my worries.”

“Anytime, Countess,” Hentzau said.

They left him in the training room. “I have a few matters to attend to,” Michael said. “I will see you when you have dressed. I wish you to look particularly ravishing tonight, my dear.”

“Your wish is my command. Sire,” she added, significantly.

When she was alone in the bedroom, she shut the door and bolted it, then sprawled down on the bed with a bottle of whiskey. She took a long drink. It helped to wash the bad taste out of her mouth. Hentzau was a pleasant diversion as a lover, but he was growing more tiresome by the day. It was wearying to play constantly to his juvenile sensibilities, to his swaggering braggadocio, to his arrogance and conceit. He was an excellent swordsman, but he had condescended to her during their match. She had to use all her concentration to fence even more poorly. It would have been interesting to see how it would have gone had he given his all. It might have been an excellent match, indeed. She was reasonably certain that she could take him if he were in earnest. She had originally thought to use him further, but she had long since dismissed any such notion. He was too self-centered, too unpredictable, too much of a boy with a cocksure sense of his own uniqueness. If Michael had walked in on them one moment earlier, she had no doubt that Hentzau would have welcomed it as an opportunity to kill him. He simply didn’t care. He did, indeed, live only in the here and now, with no thought to any consequences.

Michael, on the other hand, was the complete opposite: a planner and a brooder, a born intriguer. However, his moodiness and his possessive attitude were stultifying. Keeping the two of them in line and away from each other was a full-time job. Fortunately, the same tactics worked well on both of them. They were men and being men, were easy to manipulate. All it took was an appeal to their hormones. It was easy, but it was both annoying and time-consuming. Now this demand that she attend the dinner at the palace as Michael’s showpiece. She grimaced as she realized the double entendre nature of the thought. Her first instinct had been to beg off. Michael might not have liked that, but she could easily have managed it. Then, it occurred to her, why not?