Page 123 of Smuggler's Beauty

“No. None.”

“Then give her the same credit.”

The slap of hard soles on stairs echoed out of the corridor. Mathias cursed and started to drag the prone guard into the cell by his ankles. Veselko hopped over the body and grabbed the blaster Mathias had kicked away. He brought it back into the cell and handed it to Nannette.

“Friend of yours?” Aiden whispered. Elenor helped him maneuver the unconscious guard onto the cot he had previously occupied.

Mathias shook his head. “Some of the last of the loyalists are scattered throughout the building. The men who secured you are ours, which is why you’re all in one cell, but there are still a few we need to take care of.” He straightened his jacket. “Emil is going to send for you. Plan’s for me to replace the guards he sends and deliver you in their place after we incapacitate them.”

Nannette gestured to his bleeding nose. “This is why you don’t spring shit like this on people.”

Mathias gave her as rakish a grin as he could manage. “I’ll make it work, cupcake.”

Aiden was pretty sure he saw steam come out of Nannette’s ears as she gaped at Mathias’ turned back.

“Anders? Why aren’t you at your post?” The footsteps were getting louder as the soldier approached the cell.

Aiden watched as Mathias transformed before them. His posture changed as he assumed the rigid bearing of a military man. He flung open the door of the cell and strode out with the calm certainty of a man who was right where he was supposed to be.

“Where’s Anders?”

“Relieved him. I wanted a go at the redhead,” Mathias said. He oozed entitlement with every word, manufactured a a cocky laugh. “She’s feisty.”

“She’s armed,” Veselko whispered. Nannette rolled her eyes before checking the blaster’s charge. Satisfied, she raised the weapon and aimed it at the door.

The new soldier laughed. “Hope it was worth it.”

“You want a taste?” Mathias asked. “Still got plenty of fight in her.”

“Spoils of war, am I right?” the man replied.

Aiden’s stomach turned as he saw the shadows of the men’s feet approach the door to the cell. He pulled Elenor behind the bunks as the door swung open to reveal the expectant soldier. His hulking frame filled the doorway. Nannette barely had to aim the blaster before she blew him away.

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

Evelyn satdown on the elegantly upholstered sofa. Emil sat across from her, stiff and uncomfortable. She was unsure if the discomfort stemmed from the plush surroundings or if age had finally started to catch up with him.

He was better preserved than she had imagined he would be. Evelyn doubted he would willingly let go of the reins of his military empire for decades at a time to take a stasis sabbatical. Had modern medicine made such staggering strides since she’d been asleep that those who could afford to could turn back the clock indefinitely?

Emilshouldlook older than he did. There was a faint dusting of gray throughout his hair, deeper lines between his brows. A few spots on the back of his hands. When they had last met, he had been in his late thirties, an upstart military superstar. Now, she would have pegged him as mid-fifties. Maybe.

What had he done to himself?

“We had an agreement. You’ve violated the treaty,” she said. Best to start off blunt.

Emil straightened his shirt sleeves before deigning to raise his eyes to meet her face. “Your father renegotiated the terms. You were indisposed.”

“I’m pretty sure one of the signatories being taken hostage nullifies any sort of legitimacy to renegotiation. But what do I know, I’m not a lawyer.” Evelyn was pulling from memories of her sisters. She never thought she’d be grateful they’d been such self-righteous little shits when they were small, telling her not to concern herself with their lessons at court.

“No, you’re not.”

Evelyn arched an eyebrow at him. “Your Highness. ‘No, you’re not, Your Highness.’”

He stared at her. What had he expected? Had he expected her to beg, to plead? Foot stomping? Evelyn had to stop herself from snorting. She kept her face cool, arched an eyebrow, and waited for him to reply.

“No, you’re not, Your Highness.” She saw the muscles in his jaw tense as he spat out the words. “You wish to renegotiate our treaty?”

Evelyn smoothed her skirt, wishing for a moment that she had someone in her ear, a more experienced adult to guide her.