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“Dr. Kelley.” A tall, strongly built woman wearing the royal guard uniform stood in the door.
“Oh my God, am I being decapitated?”
“What?” The guard blinked at Lenore, first her front eyes, then the side.
“I assume you’re not here for a good reason,” Lenore said.
The woman held out a folded letter sealed with wax. “I am instructed to wait for your answer.”
“Paper. So fancy.” And worrying. Lenore ran her thumb over the seal, recognizing the royal crest. Communication was usually text messages or voice. No one used paper. She broke the seal and read the letter.
And read it again.
It seems she had a job, after all. Or at least a job offer.
“Is he serious?” Lenore asked. Perfect jobs that fulfilled all her requirements did not fall from the sky. She didn’t trust it. Not one little bit.
“The king is not one to jest,” the guard said.
No, but he sure had some audacity.
Lenore crumpled the paper in one fist. “Where is he?”
“If further negotiation is required, I can relay the message.”
“Right, because a never-ending game of telephone sure does sound swell, umm…”
“Kenth,” the woman said, supplying her name.
Lenore nearly fell into the trap of playing back and forth. “You know what, Kenth? I’ll find him.”
There were so many layers to get to Baris: aides, guards, staff, stewards, and that was just on the station. It’d be worse at the palace with councilors, butlers, valets, and all the staff needed to keep the palace running. A person could spend a lifetime peeling back the layers and never actually get to Baris. They got the king and all the trappings that went with the title, never the man.
Lenore marched out of her room, the letter clutched in her hand. Now that she was on the move, she had no idea where to find Baris. Kenth certainly was no help, keeping her mouth shut, but it was too late to go back. Yes, she was very much aware that this was basically a tantrum, but she was committed to the tantrum.
He wasn’t on the ship. Or visiting Prince Vekele’s ship. Or in the hangar overseeing the portal cleanup. She found him touring the medical bay, wearing a serious expression. The extra layer of guards outside medical was a big clue, and if she had taken a moment to calm down, she would have saved a lot of running around by just looking for the concentration of guards.
For all the good that extra layer of security did. Lenore strode right in. No one stopped her or asked for credentials, partly because she had spent hours in the medical bay the day of the portal collapse but mostly because of confidence. If you walk as if you belong, people assume that you do.
“You,” she said, shoving the letter against his chest.
Baris covered her hands with his and smiled like this was a sweet moment. He pulled her hand away, careful of the purple bruising on her wrists. “Dr. Kelley, how pleasant to see you recovered from your ordeal, though I believe you were instructed not to attempt to work for at least three rotations.”
“I’m fine.” She jerked her hand away, still clutching the letter. “Explain this. Please.”
“One moment. There is a matter I wish to discuss with Dr. Kelley,” Baris said in a smooth, polished voice. She didn’t like it. It was his politician’s voice, not his real voice.
They went to a private patient room. Lenore drew her finger down the control panel, and the walls went from transparent to a smoky gray. The walls were thin, but it was the best option for privacy.
Still clutching the letter, Lenore forced herself to take a breath and calm herself. “A job at the Royal Academy? Is this a trick?”
“It is a sincere offer. You expressed a desire to continue your education and become qualified in Arcosian medicine. The Royal Academy is the best institution with the most qualified medics and the latest advances. There is no place better,” Baris said in a cool tone. “You will be apprenticed to Harol, my personal medic, who you have already met. There is no one more skilled. During your apprenticeship, you will receive a salary, along with room and board. The compensation is very generous.”
Lenore did not trust the measured, dispassionate tone with which Baris spoke. “Right, and I’d be your little medic at your beck and call?”
“Harol is my medic, and I do not wish to change that. Your duties will include providing care for palace staff and guards, as well as a rotation in the community clinic at the Royal Academy.” He paused, waiting for a question or a flippant comment. Lenore said nothing, despite being terribly interested. Baris continued, “The academy is housed in the White Palace. Not a terribly creative name, but we make do.”
She snorted. Make do with a palace. “Must be a real hardship.”
