Kai smiled wryly. “That’s a very diplomatic way of pointing out that I haven’t been taking this wedding planning very seriously. Which is probably true.” He tucked his hands into his pockets, amazed at how good the crisp breeze felt on his face. He was still flushed with irritation after the meeting with the Union leaders. “Although, it is nice to be out here. I feel like I haven’t left my office all month.”
“I suspect there is security footage somewhere to prove that.”
They passed by a koi pond, shadowed by the drooping branches of a weeping willow and surrounded by a patch of the gardens that had been recently dug up and tilled, prepared to replant for the coming autumn season. Smelling the fresh earth, Kai was momentarily baffled at how the life of the palace continued—how the life of the city and the Commonwealth and all of Earth had gone on, even while he’d locked himself in that office and racked his brain for some way to protect it all.
“Your Majesty?”
He started. “Yes, I’m sorry.” He gestured at a simple stone bench. “Shall we?”
Priya adjusted the fabric of her sari as she sat down. The gold and orange fish swarmed to the rocky barrier of the pond, hoping for food.
“I wanted to speak with you about an idea I’ve had regarding the hired vendors that will be assisting with the wedding ceremony, but it’s one that I don’t think Her Lunar Majesty would approve. Nevertheless, I thought the decision should be yours.”
“Hired vendors?”
“Caterers, footmen, ushers, florists, and the like.”
Kai adjusted the cuff of his shirt. “Oh, right. Go on.”
“I thought it might be prudent to staff the event with a mix of humans and androids.”
He shook his head. “Levana would never stand for it.”
“Yes. That’s why I would suggest we use escort-droids that she would not recognize as such.”
He stiffened. “Escorts?”
“We would use only the most realistic models. We could even place special orders for those with more humanoid characteristics. Complexion flaws, natural hair and eye colors, varying body types and bone structures. I would be sure to find androids that wouldn’t draw attention to themselves.”
Kai opened his mouth to refute, again, but paused. Escort-droids were designed mostly for companionship. It would be an insult of the highest order if Levana became aware that they were at her wedding ceremony.
But …
“They can’t be brainwashed.”
Priya was silent for a moment, before continuing, “We could also use them to record the proceedings, in case Her Majesty or her guests attempt anything … untoward.”
“Has Levana insisted on having no cameras again?” The queen hated being recorded, and she’d demanded there be no recording devices at the annual ball when she was his special guest.
“No, Your Majesty, the queen recognizes the importance of this event being broadcast on an international scope. She’s put up no resistance on that front.”
He released a breath.
“However, with androids we could ensure that we’ll have eyes everywhere, so to speak.” She shrugged. “Hopefully this would be a precaution that is unnecessary.”
Kai fidgeted with his cuff. It was a smart idea. The most powerful men and women on Earth would be at this ceremony, making it awfully easy for Levana to abuse her powers of manipulation. Having loyal staff who couldn’t be affected could be an insurance policy against a worldwide political catastrophe.
But Levana hated androids. If she found out, she would be livid, and he’d like to avoid any more outbursts from the queen if he could.
“Thank you for the recommendation,” he said. “When do you need a decision?”
“The end of this week, if we’re to place the order in time.”
“I’ll let you know.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty. Also, I wanted to tell you of a small realization I had this morning that amounts to one more benefit in broadcasting the nuptials.”
“What’s that?”
“Her Majesty refuses to remove her veil while in the presence of any recording devices, and so she will wear it throughout the wedding and coronation.” Reaching forward, she patted Kai’s wrist. “Which means you won’t have to kiss her.”
He couldn’t help a sharp laugh. The knowledge did relieve a bit of his terror, but it was also a painful reminder. He figured he would still have to kiss her eventually. The thought made him sick.
“Thank you, Tashmi-jiĕ. That does make it slightly less horrific.”
Her whole face softened. “May I speak openly, Your Majesty?”
“Of course.”
She withdrew her hand and knotted her fingers on her lap. “I don’t mean to overstep any professional boundaries, but I have a son, you see. He’s about a year older than you are.”
Kai gulped, surprised at a tinge of guilt. He had never imagined who this woman might be when she left the palace every day. He had never bothered to picture her with a family.
“Lately, I’ve tried to imagine what this would be like on him,” Priya continued, gazing up at the drooping tree branches. The leaves were changing to gold, and every now and then a breeze would shake some loose and send them pinwheeling down to the pond. “What kind of toll would be paid for a young man with these responsibilities, forced to make these decisions.” She took in a deep breath, as if she regretted her words before she said them. “As a mother, I’m worried about you.”
He met her gaze, and his heart lurched.
“Thank you,” he said, “but you needn’t worry. I’m doing my best.”
She smiled gently. “Oh, I know you are. But, Your Majesty, I’ve been planning this wedding for twelve days, and I’ve seen you age years in that time. It pains me to think how much harder everything will become after the wedding.”
“I’ll have Torin still. And the cabinet, and the province reps … I’m not alone.”
Even as he said it, he felt the jolt of a lie.
He wasn’t alone. Was he?
Anxiety crawled up his throat. Of course he wasn’t. He had an entire country behind him, and all the people in the palace, and …
No one.
No one could truly understand what he was risking, what sacrifices he may be making. Torin was smart enough to realize it, of course, but at the end of the day he still had his own home to return to.
And Kai hadn’t confided in him that he and Nainsi were searching for Princess Selene again. He would never tell Torin that a part of him hoped Cinder would be safe. And he would never tell a single living soul how terrified he was, every moment of every day. How afraid he was that he was making an enormous mistake.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Priya said. “I’d hoped, if it wasn’t too forward of me, that I might offer some motherly advice.”
He pressed his fingertips onto the cool stone of the bench. “Perhaps I could use some of that.”
Priya adjusted her sari on her shoulder, the gold embroidery catching in the sunlight. “Try to find something that makes you happy. Your life is not going to get easier once Queen Levana is your wife. If you had even one small thing that brought you happiness, or hope that things could someday be better, then maybe that would be enough to sustain you. Otherwise, I fear it will be too easy for the queen to win.”
“And what would you suggest?”
Priya shrugged. “Perhaps this garden is a good place to start?”
Following her gesture, Kai took in the stalks of bamboo bowing over the stone walls, the myriad lilies beginning to fade after summer’s long showing, the bright fish that clustered and pressed against each other, ignorant of the turmoil in the world above their small pond. It was beautiful, but …
“You aren’t convinced,” said Priya.
He forced a smile. “It’s good advice. I just don’t know if I have the energy to be happy right now, about anything.”
Priya seemed sad at his response, though not surprised. “Please, think about it. You deserve a respite every now and then. We all do, but you more than anyone.”