Page 119 of Smuggler's Beauty

“Message received.”

“Glad to hear it,” she said, before casually adding, “If you’ve fucked up, and Evelyn gets hurt, I will personally hold you down while my wife sticks sharp skewers into every portion of your soft tissue that can accommodate one. I’ll nurse you back to health without the aid of any pain medication. And then, I’ll give you to Aiden. He’s got the best of both of us, you know. Far more creative than I am.”

The screen went black. Corvinia walked across the room to her bottle of single malt scotch and poured two fingers into a glass. She sipped it, then went back to her map.

She’d spent years plotting out the course that would lead to Tanalian freedom. Corvinia had plowed through piles of legal documents, treaties, constitutions. Had marveled that so many planets had allowed archaic laws to stand throughout the ages. The longer she’d planned, the less pure her intentions had become. She’d shifted her focus from rescuing her people to securing their revenge.

Was she unforgivably cold for committing to this course of action? Maybe.

But she also knew that Evelyn would never be capable of killing Emil Bellica if she didn’t have something worth fighting for, and that was exactly what she needed the newly crowned Queen of Tanalia to do.

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

Evelyn rosefrom the ground in one fluid motion. Until this moment, she’d never truly appreciated all the dance classes she’d been forced to attend as a child, but now she took the graceful movement she’d learned and used it as she steeled her spine and fixed a disinterested smile on her face. She would not be vulnerable. Years of hiding her feelings behind a smile and a throwaway joke had prepared her for this.

Revert back to type, Evelyn.

She propped her hip on one of the long tables that lined the Senate chamber and pretended to examine her fingernails as her ears strained to catch what the soldiers in the antechamber were saying. It seemed they had orders to take the crew of theDawnto the cells beneath the palace.

Interesting. Why are they moving them so far?

When she’d lived in the palace with her family, her mother had stored her father’s record collection in one of the cells. Another held an ill-advised pottery collection belonging to an aunt. Evelyn came by her commemorative T-shirt collection habit honestly. It shouldn’t have surprised her that Emil hadcleared the cells of their sentimental memorabilia and returned them to their intended purpose.

Pearl and the man Evelyn assumed was her partner, Ivan, were having a tense conversation by the door. He was gesturing to the chamber Evelyn was trapped in, and Pearl was nodding her head. Pearl began to walk toward the main chamber, very carefully not looking at any of the sleeping members of theDawn. Soldiers were setting up hover stretchers and programming their destination before loading them.

Evelyn watched a duo of men fling Aiden onto a stretcher haphazardly, and her composure almost broke. She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek and kept her face impassive, hoping her eyes hadn’t betrayed her. Giving Pearl — and Emil — a weapon to use against her was stupid. Charming nonchalance was the way to go here. She could mimic that, surely. She’d seen it enough from her father and sisters over the years during royal functions. Worst case, shamelessly flirt like Constantina. Evelyn had less faith that she could pull that off.

She refocused her attention on the woman striding toward her. Pearl was tall, dark, and beautiful. Evelyn was sure she intimidated the crap out of men, women, and children with only the set of her shoulders and her ruthless reputation. There was no doubt that the blasters at her hip did plenty of talking for her.

But Evelyn had seen the tension on the woman’s face before she’d schooled it, the doubt flash in her eyes, and would be willing to bet that Pearl knew all too well how much the power of a reputation could cover in the right circumstances.

Evelyn watched the woman wave a device at a plaque on the wall she’d never paid much attention to and the forcefield disabled itself. There was a slight change in pressure, and Evelyn swallowed to clear her ears.

Showtime.

Evelyn pushed off the table and strode toward Pearl with her hand extended to shake. Her heart ran riot in her chest, but she forced herself to keep her motions smooth, making eye contact with the strange woman. She saw the confusion flicker in Pearl’s gaze, but her eyes were cool by the time she was within shaking range.

“Ms. Locke? I assume you’re here to transport me to Mr. Bellica. I’m Evelyn Alpertti.”

Pearl looked at Evelyn’s extended hand like it might actually be a stuffed pigeon. After a moment, she reached out to take it and gave her a good, firm shake. “Majesty. I’m afraid I’m going to have to search you for weapons.”

“Of course you are, of course,” Evelyn said. She raised her arms out in a T and slightly spread her feet apart. “If you’ll excuse a personal comment, I love the haircut. I don’t have the cheekbones for something so bold, but goodness, yours could cut glass.”

Pearl replied with a confused thank you and patted Evelyn down. She found the blaster that Nannette had equipped her with almost immediately and was brisk and efficient as she checked Evelyn’s legs and shoes. With a gentle pluck, she removed the dead comms device from her ear before she stepped back and tucked it and the blaster into the pocket of her jacket.

“I’m to take you to the palace,” Pearl said. “It’ll be easier if you come with me willingly.”

“Oh, thank you for the escort, Ms. Locke,” Evelyn said, stepping into the antechamber. Pearl followed her out, and the six soldiers that had not accompanied the stretchers fell into a protective formation around them. The pair closest to the entrance opened the doors, and the chaotic tumult of the crowd outside spilled into the building.

They made their way down the stairs, the soldiers attempting to keep their protective formation. Evelyn refused to marchat the speed they wanted to maintain. She took her time descending the stairs, taking in the crowd. Emil had managed to ship in a small contingent to attempt to control the crowd before Corvinia’s hacked shield had activated, but they were outnumbered and overwhelmed. They had not been prepared for active resistance here, of all places.

But her people had risen to the challenge.

Tanalian citizens were giving them hell in the streets. A group of old women brandished what Evelyn thought looked like cast iron pans at two soldiers who were doing their best to remain stoic. The women were screaming that Tanalian folk song at the top of their lungs. One of them was beating on her pan with a wooden spoon. In the distance, Evelyn could see that the opera house was no longer a bland expanse of white stone. Someone had begun to adorn the sides of the building with a mural of gigantic climbing roses, thorny stems wrapping around a blaster. They passed another Bauder soldier. He’s been ringed with a group of protestors, lock armed, singing a song Evelyn wasn’t familiar with.

The Bauder military machine fed its recruits on stories of glorious battle. There was nothing glorious about gunning down an octogenarian with a wooden spoon who was scream-singing in your face, and these men knew that. Had the crowd been brandishing blasters, knives, hell, even pitchforks, training would have taken over, and there would have been little left for the soldiers to contain.

A woman in the crowd noticed Evelyn as she approached the last few steps. She hollered and caught the attention of the people nearest her. A wave of awareness flowed through the crowd, and their attention all turned to her. The palpable energy of hope was streaming around the crowd. Evelyn barely had to squint to make it out. A quiet descended over the crowd, and she felt thousands of pairs of eyes on her at once. When she didn’timmediately faint, Evelyn determined she’d survive another ten minutes. She cleared her throat, mouth resembling a mound of sawdust.No pressure.