Bengaria's War

By T.K. Toppin

A Tangled Web of Secrets and Revelations
Great battles are nothing new to the generations of oligarchs and aristocrats who rule the colonised systems of Earth's descendants. They are a necessary evil to protect star systems and outposts from greedy poachers and other systems bent on dominating the galaxy, as King Greycer of Strium System knows all too well. The king arranges to marry Ryn Bengaria, a young woman from Halantia, the main planet of the Strium System.

Unknown to Ryn, her life had been planned before she was even born. Through their marriage, King Greycer seeks to reclaim nine outposts from the underhanded regent, Xin Sibur. When the king is assassinated, Ryn finds herself a reluctant queen and war commander. With the help of her former weapons master, and an unlikely alliance with a commander of the feared Nezu Warrior clans, Ryn embarks on a path of duty and vengeance. Her quest to destroy Xin Sibur and secure the future of Strium System will go down in galactic history as Bengaria's War.

• Language: English
• Publisher: T.K. Toppin
• Release date: Aug 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223127970

T.K. Toppin

T.K. Toppin writes character-driven tales, loaded with mystery, intrigue and adventure, navigating the realms of Science Fiction, Speculative Fiction and Space Opera. Previously contracted by small press publishers, she is currently wading the waters of indie publishing and discovering its many challenges and delights. T.K. was born, raised and lives in Barbados. When she's not writing, she can be found studiously working on her doctorate in Procrastination by binge-watching shows on streaming networks, doing absolutely nothing, and juggling the baffling realm of social media marketing. Follow on: Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/written.by.tktoppin/ Tiktok: https://www.tiktok.com/@tktoppin Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/WrittenByTKToppin/ Twitter: http://twitter.com/TKToppin Blogsite: http://www.tktoppin.blogspot.com Email: [e-mail]

Book preview

Chapter 1

Jin County, North District, Halantia

Zero Grid, Strium System

Ryn Bengaria saw the exhaust thrusters peeking out from the side of the house. Dread and indignation punched her. How dare they! She and Da had two weeks before they had to move out.

Barrelling through the kitchen door, she scanned the living room straight ahead to see who was there. No one. Where was her da? The dining room table was covered with a dirty sheet; over it lay the scattered parts of machinery. Ryn didn’t remember Da saying he had to fix anything while she took her horse for a quick run. She moved towards the front door; Da must be outside, greeting these uninvited guests—from the collection agency, no doubt.

A noise came from…her bedroom? She spun on her heels, already drawing her tadra blade. With a quick flick of her wrist, the ratcheted blades unfurled. How dare those heartless scoundrels come to possess their belongings! They still lived here, and had time before the move.

Darting into her room, she found a burly, russet-haired man wedged into the tiny space between her bed and dresser. Clutched in his hands was her teddy bear.

Thief! Ryn cried out, and raised the blade, ready to strike. Put it back. Don’t touch anything, you greedy thief.

Lower your weapon. Please, I beg you. The man’s eyes were riveted to the tadra blade. I’m just a…a humble commander with a ship in need of repairs. He raised his arms and the stuffed toy dropped from his grasp and onto the bed.

Ryn glanced at the fallen toy, then narrowed her eyes at the man. Liar. You’re from the bank, come to take everything. Like a common thief.

He shook his head with a chuckle. No, no. I swear to you, I’m not from any bank—

Then what are you doing in my room? Ryn demanded, inching within striking range.

The man’s large frame all but filled her small bedroom. Though somewhat dishevelled, with his auburn hair sticking up like the wind had blown it from behind, there was something familiar about him. Light creases around his blue eyes, and a sprinkling of silver streaking through his robust beard, put him around her father’s age. He wore the Halantian black and burgundy military uniform. Ryn frowned. It had to be a disguise.

Answer me! Ryn insisted.

Well…I…ahh, the man stammered, blinking a few times. As I said— He lowered his arms. —my shuttle is down. It needs repairs. We, uh, well…we heard your father’s quite handy with machines and—

"Liar. And no commander would enter another’s room without invitation. Now get out of my room before I lop your head off." For effect, Ryn flexed her wrist, bringing the tip of her blade closer to the man’s ruddy face. He jerked back with a startled gasp. Ryn smiled with satisfaction.

Listen. If you don’t believe me, you’ll see my shuttle out front. Just ask your—

Ryn Bengaria! her father barked from the doorway. Put that blade down!

—father. The red-haired man’s shoulders relaxed.

Sul Bengaria crossed the room in two quick strides, shoved Ryn’s arm down and took a firm grip of her shoulder. Ryn… He expelled a breath. Don’t you know who this man is?

A thief. Ryn jerked her arm free and sent the intruder her darkest glower. Hang on! She sniffed and gave the man a more careful once-over. He looked like—

Recoil that blade, Ryn, Da scolded beside her.

Fine. Scowling, she did as she was told, but maintained a ready stance should she need to unfurl the weapon again. A small scraping noise caught her attention and yet another man, immaculate in his Halantian military uniform, appeared in the doorway behind her father.

What’s going on here, Da? Three men in her bedroom was beginning to get a bit much. "Who are these people? Are they from the bank? Since when do they send the military to do their dirty work?"

"This is the king," Sul hissed in his daughter’s ear.

The… What? Impossible. He’s a… Ryn’s voice trailed away as she studied him again.

Oh no.

King Greycer of the Strium System, Halantia, Kirby Garrison, Commander of the War Fleet, and future ruler of the nine outposts.

And he was standing in her room.

Seeing her recognition, King Greycer twitched up his brows and grinned. He raised a large hand as Ryn was about to lower her head in respect, halting her. My shuttle hit a bird. It got lodged in the forward thrusters. Amis— The king tipped his head to the man in the doorway. —did say the scenic route would get us into trouble.

Amis made as if to speak, but instead cleared his throat and stared at the floor.

Shame heated Ryn’s face. She’d just accused the king of being a thief. Why had she not recognised the man? She was so stupid! Eyes averted, Ryn muttered an apology, which earned her a chuckle from the king.

She frowned.

Mmm, you’re a sprightly thing, aren’t you? King Greycer studied her with keen interest, his pale blue eyes glittering with calculation. Sul Bengaria, you have raised a fine young lady. Twenty-one years, you say? And she attends the Academy?

Ryn cast a quick glance at her father.

Da rested a hand on her shoulder. Thank you, sir. And yes, she’s in her fourth year.

Well done. The king nodded with a broad smile. Not many make it that far, and the last three years are the hardest—as you well know. It must be in her blood. Mirth caught him again and he stifled a laugh.

Ryn cocked her head, not sure why that bothered her. Thank you. But I’m afraid I won’t be going back.

Da clicked his tongue. Ryn. Not now.

I’m needed here, with you. We can’t afford the Academy—especially now.

You must excuse my daughter. Standing at the foot of her bed, her father twitched with discomfort. For the first time, she noticed his hands were covered in engine grease, and he twiddled them as if he wanted to scratch his head. Social etiquette is a subject she continues to fail.

Da!

What was wrong with her father? And why was he so determined to embarrass her in front of the king? The king! Her dirty laundry overflowed from the hamper, especially her underwear, which lay crumpled on the top and two more pairs on the floor. Squeezing her eyes shut, she groaned.

Can we just…go into the living room? Please? Without waiting, she barrelled past her father and sidestepped Amis without so much as looking at him.

The king’s hearty laugh followed. Sprightly, indeed. Sul, you have a fine daughter, one to be proud of. He cleared his throat. But tell me, he continued in a different tone, she is dropping out because of the auction?

We can’t afford it, sir. As I explained, the farmstead and everything here will be sold come the end of the week. City living will be expensive.

In the living room, Ryn peered out the window. A black shuttle, bearing the crest of the Royal Family, straddled their cobblestoned walkway like a fat toad. A thin stream of exhaust fumes curled from its side before wafting away on the light breeze. She swallowed hard and turned to face the men now entering the room behind her.

I see. The king flicked his attention to Ryn, scratching his bearded chin. He appraised her as if she were a new warship. This is a shame. Training at the Academy is an opportunity much coveted.

I was failing at most things anyway, Ryn stated, unable to stop a small huff. It’s not an issue, really. I probably wouldn’t have made the next grade.

But surely you must have excelled at something? Logistics? Weapons? Tactics? Anything?

Ryn shook her head. The only thing I’m good at is the tadra blade. She tapped the weapon, now clipped to her broad belt. A small smile tugged one corner of her mouth as the king dipped his head in embarrassment.

And I have witnessed your skill with it first hand. Greycer smiled. Might I add, your speed is— He rubbed his throat and swallowed. —incredible.

Ryn matched his smile. Thank you. I would do anything to save my Teddy. Especially from a thief.

Ryn! You cannot speak to the king like—

It’s fine, it’s fine. King Greycer patted Da’s shoulder. Spirited. Tell me, Sul, has she caught the eye of a young man? Or woman?

Da jerked. No. No, she has not. He blinked, and his jaw flexed. The last one, well, he supposedly insulted her.

Da! Ryn’s mouth dropped. That’s none of his business. How can you…?

The king laughed and shared a look with Amis, who appeared as uncomfortable as Ryn felt, then turned to her. Don’t take things so personally. Considering your uncertain future, a suitor might help.

Ryn straightened. I do not need aid from any suitors. My father and I can manage well enough on our own. If you hadn’t noticed, this is not the Dark Ages from the One World era where a woman must—

Ryn. Her father’s voice was nothing but a whisper. He cleared his throat and turned to face the king. As I stated before, hard times find us needing to sell our possessions to appease the bank. We will move to the city and find work. We will manage. With some paring down, Ryn may be able to finish the last three years at the Academy, though she has chosen not to…against my better judgment.

"You wanted me to go there, Ryn retorted. I see no reason to continue—"

And I would prefer you stayed and completed it. Da levelled his eyes at her. But we will discuss this later.

Yes. Yes. Greycer scratched at his chin again. These are hard times. Here now, I have an idea, Lieutenant. And a solution to your financial troubles.

Ryn narrowed her eyes. Lieutenant? How did he know her da was military? How long had the king been in her home? It had only been a short ride on her horse—less than half an hour—but Da and the king spoke as if they’d been chatting for hours. Furthermore, she had a growing suspicion they were friends. From way back. They seemed too much at ease.

Da took a deep, measured breath, and made his way to the dining table. His hand trembled as he first smoothed a corner of the sheet, then touched a few of the parts as if searching for a particular one. What solution would that be, sir?

Da wasn’t happy; back rigid, jaw tense. A military man, he’d decommissioned following his marriage to her mother, and settled to grow cabbages and tinker with farm machines. Farming kept him outdoors—as evidenced by his deep tan—which suited him. Still, there were the times Ryn caught him gazing beyond the skies. He was a strong man, but reserved, as if he knew how powerful he was and what he could do because of it. He was proud, too. And careful, always pausing before speaking, before acting. But now he appeared defeated.

The auction is already scheduled, Da went on, looking at his grimy hands as he paced his words. The house will be returned to the bank, and everything of value goes up for sale. If I back out now, I’ll be penalised and the bank will just take what they want to satisfy my loan. I’ve already made a deposit to secure an apartment in the city. I’m afraid that whatever you have to offer, it’s too late. His voice shook as he said the last few words. His shame pulled at Ryn’s heart, and she drew closer to him.

I’ll sort that out. King Greycer waved an arm. Da arched an eyebrow. I’ll marry your daughter.

What! Ryn goggled. She glared first at the king, then at her da, and then back to the king. Insults clamoured to be said out loud. What did you say?

It will be a business arrangement, nothing more, so don’t get all excited about it. The king pulled together his bushy eyebrows and focused on Da. Your daughter is perfect for what I have in mind.

Had she even heard him right? Ryn opened her mouth, tried for words, but shut it. If the four miserable years spent at the Academy had taught her anything, it was to keep her mouth shut when high emotions seasoned her thoughts.

Da kept his features slack, hands loose at his sides. From experience, she knew this was how he reacted when offended. I beg your pardon, sir, he said in a calm, low voice, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline your offer…as generous as it is. Frankly speaking, you can’t just walk into someone’s house and decide you’re going to marry his daughter, king or not. Are you—

Insane? Ryn blurted. Which part of ‘this is not the Dark Ages’ did you not understand?

Ryn! Da barked.

With a radiant smile, King Greycer turned to his partner. Amis, she’s perfect.

Amis raised his eyebrows and shifted from foot to foot as though his boots hurt. Sir, perhaps this isn’t the best time for this. We’re needed back at the palace. Your nephew, remember?

The king sighed. His mother didn’t need my help conceiving him. I think she can manage delivering him just fine. He turned to Ryn’s father with a meaningful look. You are aware that I’ve been campaigning to recover the outposts?

Da eyed the king for a long moment, then nodded. With a slight drop of his shoulders, he indicated a chair. The king didn’t sit. Instead, he paced the confines of the small dining room, his heavy footfalls making the crockery in the cabinet rattle in time. Midmorning sunlight streamed in through the window behind him, setting his auburn hair alight. With the rich green of the forest outside the window as a background, he looked regal.

As you know, the outposts have been under Sibur’s control since my dear mother died. King Greycer bit off the regent’s name with a twisted mouth, as though to say it made him ill. Mother, in her diligence to ensure I lived happily ever after with a clucky family life, dictated in her last will and testament that only upon my marriage will I regain control of them. Her own father dictated this condition to her, and she saw fit to carry on the…tradition. What she didn’t count on was leaving them in Sibur’s grasping hands.

Ryn frowned. She’d heard rumours of this, as well as about Regent Xin Sibur and his fifteen-year tenure overseeing Strium’s outposts. He’d made frequent attempts to oust the king from his throne. Normally, the lives of the Royal Family raised only mild interest in Jin County, but her father—and many others—had had dealings with a company associated with the regent: the Aucamin Investment Corporation. It had represented a mining company, but then folded and left thousands penniless for investing with it. Most days, her father bemoaned the day he’d invested with the corporation, cursing himself for not checking and double-checking its ownership.

The king flicked something off his black and burgundy uniform which, despite his dishevelled appearance, was spotless. "For fifteen years I’ve had to fend off power-hungry women—even from other systems—seeking to become my queen. I refuse to be married to such a woman. Now the very concept of marriage leaves a nasty taste in my mouth. But Regent Sibur must be stopped, and to do that I need to find a suitable bride. You may not be aware, but Sibur has grown greedier and more powerful each year. He’s plotting against all of Strium—and may very well succeed, considering his resources.

The outposts belong to us—as they have for three generations—not some misguided aristocrat from the pockmarked Undir System. Halantia controls Strium, and I intend to keep it that way. The only way I can do so is through a marriage clause that’s as outdated as E4 generation ships. Believe me, I’ve tried to reason with the man for the last five years, but the law is clear. And since I govern the law, I have to conform to it. Bless my dear dead mother.

King Greycer rolled something in his mouth, shook his head, then faced Da again. "Your daughter is unaffiliated with any family harbouring political designs, and a commoner. She’s the perfect candidate. This will be a covert business arrangement. At the end of three years, we’ll arrange a divorce and your daughter will be suitably compensated—she need not worry about her finances ever again. By then, I’ll have secured the outposts and turned them over to new governors. Don’t worry about your financial situation either, former Lieutenant Bengaria. I will attend to that personally. You may keep this— The king glanced around. —country house and grow your cabbages if you wish. All I ask is three years of your daughter’s time. Do we have a deal?"

A deal? Ryn gasped. No. I will not marry you.

Ryn, her father hissed, and touched her arm to silence her, don’t speak so hastily. This is the king you’re addressing. Have you forgotten?

Ryn inhaled. "You mean he could order us?"

King Greycer raised his hands, palms out, his expression regal and serious. I’m offering a business arrangement, Miss Bengaria, nothing more. Arrangements like this have been conducted for millennia to ensure alliances, political strength and power. In this instance, we move to stop a greedy man who has squandered what was left in his care. You gain your home, and I gain my inheritance. We both win.

No, Ryn seethed. I won’t agree to an arranged marriage. That’s so…archaic! I have no wish to be a royal, let alone a queen. Da, you can’t allow this.

Miss Bengaria, the king said. Please. You’d be able to conduct your own business for the duration—even complete your studies through private tutelage if you wish. We need never be together except on those occasions when we need to maintain the ruse. But marriage will mean you are Queen Primus, so you will need to take up your share of the royal duties, since we will hold equal power. As you well know, under Halantian law you will become the sole ruler upon my death. Upon your death, since I have no children, the throne will pass to my brother, then his wife, and then their children. The king smiled. Of course, I prefer not to die just yet.

And what? Ryn gaped. Am I expected…? Do you expect me to— She cleared her throat. —to produce an heir as well?

Greycer blinked, and his ruddy face lit with humour. No. That is, unless you wish it. He winked at her and flashed a boyish grin.

Ryn’s mouth dropped. She balled her fists at her side. The temptation to draw her tadra blade and swing it at things was great. Surely you can roust out some other girl to do the job. Why me?

I like your spirit.

That’s not an answer.

King Greycer tapped his chin with a finger. I’ve already said. You’re unaffiliated.

Ryn snorted. You mean I’m some dummy you can pay off to keep her mouth shut.

The king grinned. And something tells me I’ll have nothing to fear from you if my back is turned.

Oh! Ryn stamped her foot. I should’ve cut your head off earlier when—

Enough! Da grabbed her shoulder and gave her a firm shake. Hold your tongue, girl.

Ignoring her father, Ryn scowled. Anger and indignation made her face hot and prickly, and her neck itched like a fiend. She scratched it and stared sideways at the king. He stood at a respectful distance, hands tucked behind his back. It was common knowledge Greycer was an eligible bachelor and a reluctant groom. She’d read and watched several newsfeeds about all the women—and men—who fawned at his feet, hoping to catch his eye. She’d always felt sorry for him, having to put up with all that attention. And though the inheritance of the outpost stations was the least of her concerns, like all Halantians she’d often wished Grumpy Greycer would hurry up and marry someone so he could flick Regent Sibur off his high perch.

But now this grumpy king wanted to marry her? Absolute nonsense! Surely this was a nightmare. Perhaps the strain of losing her home was affecting her. And why was he called Grumpy Greycer again? He didn’t look the least bit grumpy. In fact, in his commander’s uniform he seemed respectable, regal and very good-natured.

Sir, Da pleaded, she’s too young. Perhaps in a few years, when she is twenty-five—

She is of age, and I don’t have time. Sibur grows impatient and his threats are escalating. The time for diplomacy and reason has passed. I must marry. And soon.

The silence grew awkward as Ryn’s mind whirled. The king stood impassive, waiting. Perhaps he knew she needed time to think. From the corner of her eye, Ryn noted Amis blowing out a short sigh and turning his head to the window. Following his gaze, she saw the edge of the forest that bordered their land. The trilling of birds floated in on the cool, lazy breeze that carried the scent of the woods. She wanted nothing more than to take a stroll outside and forget a king was in her home. A king…

Perhaps it was the stress of being uprooted, of their uncertain future in the city, and of having to drop out of the Academy and disappoint her father. She was hallucinating. She’d fallen off her horse and hit her head and…

Ryn. Her father’s voice brought her out of her swirling thoughts. Put out the tea service. The king and I have some things to talk about.

The tea service meant a formal discussion.

You can’t be serious, Da. Her voice shook. You mean to say you’re considering his offer?

Da’s lips thinned, and she knew he was biting back his temper.

"We’ll manage in the city. I don’t want to be married to him." She glanced back at the king and darted her eyes over his body. She fixated on his hairy fingers, the tangle of his beard, and almost made a face.

Almost.

* * *

Two days later, Ryn wanted to scream.

Why couldn’t the king’s shuttle have broken down in someone else’s field? Sitting at her dresser, she fisted her hands and brought them to her temples.

She had argued and whined, even begged to go back to the Academy. She’d also contemplated running away—taking her horse and supplies and riding hard into the interior. But Da’s caution that she was going against the wishes of a king had rankled. Through the lengthy hours of talks and negotiations, of seeking out loopholes, Da had tried his best to fight for her.

In the end, Ryn had yielded. She couldn’t stand how her father had appeared—servile, resigned, the obedient soldier once more. But defeated. Da had made it clear to her that though the king hadn’t made it an order, he could’ve. Instead, she’d been given a choice. Been allowed to make a decision. And she realised the king was a very respectful and honourable man. He’d laid out, plainly, the reason he had to marry.

Though it made her feel cheap and shallow, the offer was a ticket out of their financial predicament. And she couldn’t stand to see her father so defeated. She chewed the inside of her mouth. Had she made the right decision?

Ryn?

Her da stood in her doorway, his fingers working at a knot in the frame, not meeting her eyes. She considered screaming at him, dragging out the fight like a child, but he was hunched and ashen. Tears welled in her eyes, obscuring her vision.

Da. What have I done? she sputtered. I can’t do this!

He shuffled into her room, unhurried, and sat on the end of her messy bed strewn with clothes and personal items yet to be stuffed into a duffel bag. Placing his elbows on his bony knees, he rested his head on his hands. A long, tired breath wheezed out of him. I know, Ryn. It’s a lot to ask of you. I know. But it’s a way out.

I know. It was the thought of an unknown future with the king that terrified her. That, and her hasty decision to marry: a decision made to spare her father the ordeal of having to go against a king. Sometimes, what the royals made one do was shameful. Ryn sniffed as anger replaced her tears. That’s all you’ve said. You think I don’t know that?

It’s expensive to live in the city. We can’t even grow food—not in those small apartments. And who’s to say I would be able to find a job? I’m not a young man any longer, and soldiering is the only thing I know other than growing cabbages.

How many times are you going to repeat yourself?

Until you grasp our situation. Da made a fist. I may find work as a mechanic, but that’s it. And you? What can you do? An Academy dropout, a farmer with no skills for the city. You’d be lucky if you found work as a server or cleaner.

Ryn wanted to hurt her father, make him feel the sting, the pain, the betrayal of being traded like livestock. "You gave up your only daughter to an old man who doesn’t even care about her. All he wants is his precious outposts. You’re selling me off. What would Mam say?"

Da turned away; his shoulders drooped. You’re a citizen of Strium System. You’ve been given an opportunity to help us all by stopping the man who wants to destroy us, and really, you’re duty-bound to do so. Have some pride. He inhaled deeply. Even your mam would understand that.

Don’t speak to me as if I’m a soldier. That’s your world, your calling. Ryn stood and paced. Duty- and honour-bound to serve. To leap without looking, place your faith and trust in your superiors—to follow blindly. That’s all they ever spoke about at the Academy. I don’t need to hear it from you.

You agreed to this.

Well, I can back out, can’t I? Ryn recalled how the king had sipped his tea with a wide grin, like he’d won a prize.

Da sat straighter. Reneging on an agreement is dishonourable. You made a promise—to the king, of all people. You will honour it.

With a frustrated yell, Ryn threw a small glass bottle against the pre-fabricated wall. It shattered, sending shards everywhere. A sudden rush of sweet, floral fragrance flooded the room. She slumped to her knees and blew out a breath. It was true. She had made a promise, and if there was one thing she prided herself on, it was that she kept her promises.

Her father’s warm hand touched her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

You must think I hate you, Da, she mumbled, head hanging. Her fight was gone, and exhaustion shrouded her. I’m…scared.

I don’t hold that against you. It’s only normal.

She chuckled, and Da lowered himself onto the floor next to her with a groan. A joint popped in his knee, and he grimaced.

If she were honest, the king’s offer was a miracle. And Da—with his soldier’s honour and instincts—would agree to anything that would bring down the regent. Had he not said many times that one day he would see to it Regent Xin Sibur got his due? Curse Da for his loyalty to the royals, to Strium System. For his military background! The king knew exactly how to play to his sense of duty. And she was the idiot girl caught in the middle because she’d chosen the wrong time to enter the house.

But she had an opportunity to help bring down Sibur, simply by marrying the king.

How had it changed from just someone else’s fight to hers?

Regent Sibur was a heartless, unscrupulous man. Four months ago, two of her friends’ families been left penniless thanks to their investing in the same business venture as Da. According to some of her da’s friends, Sibur had raised utility and food taxes on a few of the outposts so high the residents had no choice but to migrate to Halantia in hopes of a better life on the system’s main planet.

Three years. Ryn stared at her father. That’s a long time to be married to someone you don’t know. And a king, of all people. The thought almost made her burst into tears again.

What would her friends say? What would people think of her? They’d call her power-hungry. Title-seeking. Even that idiot Chuel would think she’d pushed him away because she planned to marry the king. Knowing him, he’d soon spread gossip all across Jin County, saying she’d flicked him aside because he wasn’t influential enough.

And her instructors at the Academy, who’d insisted she had the potential, if not the drive—what would they say? That she’d taken the easy route? She wasn’t like that at all. They only wanted to make a soldier out of her. That wasn’t for her anyway.

Burrowing deeper into her father’s shoulder, Ryn sighed. What she wouldn’t do to be a little girl again.

Nibbles won’t like the trip to the palace. The king had promised she could bring her horse. That was one consolation.

That mad horse of yours doesn’t like anything. Da shook his head, his chin bumping her brow. Perhaps the change in scenery will improve his mood.

Do you think he’ll keep his word? To leave me alone? Even Nibbles wasn’t enough of a distraction.

Ryn, if there’s one thing I know about the king, it’s that his word is golden. He won’t break his promise. And if he does, he’ll have me to deal with. King or not, he will not hurt my only child.

But the king was still a man, even if he wasn’t interested in her as he claimed. Could she stand it if he so much as touched her? Yes, he was dashing and regal, like all royals, but ruddy—in that splotchy way she associated with drunken men. And she couldn’t get past his hairiness. He was also much older. She swallowed her mild disgust and braced herself. Their marriage would be nothing more than a business arrangement; he’d stressed that point many times.

Nothing more.

Well, why would he trouble himself with a plain country girl like me anyway?

Da gave her a bolstering shake. You’re not plain. You look like your mother, and she was beautiful beyond words.

Only because you loved her.

Have you forgotten what she looked like already? Da’s tone softened as it usually did when he spoke about her mam. You only have to look in the mirror. You could be sisters.

Are you trying to make me feel better? It had worked, like it always did. She smiled and squeezed her eyes shut. What she wouldn’t give to have her mother here again.

Well, you’re not flinging dangerous pieces of glass anymore.

Ryn laughed and hugged her father, wrapping her arms around him. She wanted this moment to last forever—with the sun filtering through her window, the comforting sounds and smells of home, of her room, and her father, who always smelled of machinery and soil. It was perfection.

Three years, she repeated. You don’t think he’ll just throw me into some dark hole and forget about me, do you?

No. This is not like those ancient fairy tales your mother found so fascinating.

I wish she were still alive.

Me too. Her father let out a heavy sigh. Me too.

The jarring report of reverse thrusters whining outside announced the arrival of the royal shuttle, here to deliver Ryn to the palace. She hadn’t even packed yet and still wore her sweaty riding gear. On a curse, she scrambled to her feet and started flinging things into her battered duffel. She’d been told to only bring essentials; everything else would be provided for. Still, she preferred her own clothes. And, despite how childish it seemed, she stuffed Teddy into the bag. She then grabbed her favourite leather coat, which reached her ankles and fitted her like a glove. It wasn’t real leather, but had belonged to her mother. Age had turned it a dark tan.

Ryn slipped on the old coat and hugged herself, taking a moment. Life was changing so much she felt out of control. All she’d ever wanted was to stay on the farm. The scent of fresh soil, heady and earthen, laden with nutrients, always made her think of breathing in an elixir of life. The country air, sharp and crisp, filled with the fragrance of natural wonders, always revived her, grounded her. Her dream of taking over the farm was now on hold. She would take care of her da. Do her duty. And when she was done, she would return.

Ryn plucked at the corners of her vest, prolonging the inevitable. Her da cleared his throat. She smiled at him and then, sucking in a breath, faced the mirror.

I can do this. I have to.

Three years.

She would miss her little sanctuary. Even though theirs was a modest pre-fab house like most other houses in the country, her mother had spent long years decorating it with cosy touches, from the sunny yellow curtains to the fanciful doorknobs on the old-fashioned wooden doors. Turning it into a fairy-tale cottage. Into home.

Oh no.

Ryn stared at her dirty clothes. She’d forgotten to wash and change. Her riding vest and undershirt had sweaty patches, the jodhpurs had saddle stains, and dust and muck covered her boots. And the worst part? She smelled of horse and sweat. Groaning, she dropped the duffel to the floor. She couldn’t go to the palace looking like a bedraggled creature that had gone through a thorn bush the wrong way! She headed towards the bathroom, but Da caught her arm and wrapped his rangy arms around her. He held on tight and she squeezed back, inhaling his familiar scent. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

He cleared his throat. Remember, Ryn. Sibur must pay. We can stop him this way. I didn’t tell you, but my friend Poule… He killed himself a week ago because he had no money left. He couldn’t face his family.

Ryn gasped into his neck and tried to push back, but her father held her firmly. Anick’s father? She never said anything… Last week? She’d been at school. No wonder Anick had been avoiding her calls. Poule had gone into the city to find work… What chance did she and her father have, then? This was Sibur’s fault. How many more people had he stolen from, leaving their lives in ruins? How many more out there were like them?

Da released her to hold her at arm’s length, meeting her watery gaze with his own. Sibur must pay. He nodded once, then walked away.

Ryn watched as her father retreated into his room. Her heart ached. She couldn’t bear to see him suffer another blow. When her mother had been alive, he’d been chatty and easy-going, but since her mother’s death—and then losing all that money—he’d become distant and moody. He often rubbed his chest over his heart, like it hurt. She worried for his health. Now, with the king’s offer, they wouldn’t have to move and Da would have the money to take better care of himself.

She squared her shoulders. She would marry this king, help him get his inheritance, then come back to look after her da. She would take over the farmstead and Da could retire and enjoy life again.

Spurred on by the charge of rebellion, Ryn decided not to get cleaned up. She picked up her duffel and walked with purpose to the front door.

If it was the last thing she did, she would at least make sure Sibur paid for all the grief he’d caused.

Chapter 2

Sazkali Palace, Risale City, Halantia

Zero Grid, Strium System

Ryn sat in the bay window in her apartment, feet tucked under her, staring out at the private courtyard below. Her spacious apartment neighboured King Greycer’s rooms, in the private wing reserved for the royal family.

From her vantage point three stories up, palace life buzzed at a pace she still couldn’t get in tune with. Gardeners tended to shrubs while service staff scurried about their business. Sentries stood guard at strategic points, proud in their black and burgundy uniforms.

Just visible beyond the clouds, the misty curve of Kirby Garrison hung in the cerulean sky. Halantia’s, and the system’s, main military garrison, it had kept watch from above for as long as there had been a royal palace.

The previous evening had passed in a blur. She recalled being shown a squalling newborn baby—her future nephew. She’d never seen a newborn baby before; at least, not up close. At three days old, the smell of curdled milk had lingered on the wriggling blob. Then a celebratory dinner for the baby had coincided with the announcement of her engagement to the king. What should’ve been a joyous occasion, in normal circumstances, had in fact been a succession of nauseating moments, like she’d been thrown straight into the deep end of the lake. She had decided that this place, this new phase of her life, was no better than being at the Academy.

The news of their impending marriage had received a mixed reception. Some had taken the announcement with obvious relief, others had raised eyebrows, while the rest had applauded as if required to do so. Prince Ghati, Greycer’s younger brother, was the only one who had stood and greeted her with any real warmth and affection. Despite the celebration of his new son being upstaged by Greycer, Prince Ghati had given his brother a bear hug and grinned from ear to ear. Ryn had decided then and there that Ghati was indeed the darling of Halantia and Strium, as the media reports stated. And he was genuinely happy for her.

A ping sounded from her door. Ryn scrambled to her feet and placed her hand over the sensor to open it. A young woman not much older than herself stood in the doorway, a radiant smile on her face.

Good day, Milady. I’m Melia. She bobbed her head; her wavy afro bouncing with the movement. Governor Sola has sent me to help you orient yourself to the palace.

Oh, Ryn nodded. That’s right. He did say.

Governor Sola was the cheery man she’d met last night. He had a shock of white hair and plump cheeks. He was another who had wished her well and mentioned that if she ever needed anything, to never hesitate to call upon either himself or his wife, or his daughter, Melia. The family resemblance was clear.

Excellent. Melia grinned, then gestured Ryn to follow her. We can start with the Great Hall.

They left the residence wing to cross a courtyard, then passed through a security checkpoint before entering the Great Hall. It was enormous and boasted a high domed ceiling, dazzling with