"Beautiful, beyond words," Gordon murmured, enthralled by the scene.
Lianna nodded. "Of all your world of Throon, I love these gardens the best. But there are wild, unpeopled worlds far in our Fomalhaut Kingdom that are even more lovely."
Her eyes kindled and for the first time he saw emotion conquer the regal composure of her lovely little face.
"Lonely, unpeopled worlds that are like planets of living color, drenched by the wonderful auroras of strange suns! I shall take you to see them when we visit Fomalhaut, Zarth."
She was looking up at him, her ash-gold hair shining like a crown in the soft light.
She expected him to make love to her, Gordon thought. He was-or at least, she thought he was-her fiancé, the man she had chosen to marry. He'd have to keep up his imposture, even now.
Gordon put his arm around her and bent to her lips. Lianna's slim body was pliant and warm inside the shimmering white gown, and her half-parted lips were dizzyingly sweet.
"I'm a cursed liar!" Gordon thought, dismayed. "I'm kissing her because I want to, not to keep up my role!"
He abruptly stepped back. Lianna looked up at him with sheer amazement on her face.
"Zarth, what made you do that?"
Gordon tried to laugh, though that thrillingly sweet contact still seemed trembling through his nerves.
"Is it so remarkable for me to kiss you?" he countered.
"Of course it is-you never did before!" Lianna exclaimed. "You know as well as I that our marriage is purely a political pretense!"
Truth crashed into Gordon's mind like a blast of icy cold, sweeping the fumes of saqua from his brain.
He had made an abysmal slip in his imposture! He should have guessed that Lianna didn't want to marry Zarth Arn any more than he wanted to marry her-that it was purely a political marriage and they but two pawns in the great game of galactic diplomacy.
He had to cover up this blunder as best he could, and quickly! The girl was looking up at him with that expression of utter mystification still on her face.
"I can't understand you doing this when you and I made agreement to be mere friends."
Gordon desperately voiced the only explanation possible, one perilously close to the truth.
"Lianna, you're so beautiful I couldn't help it. Is it so strange I should fall in love with you, despite our agreement?"
Lianna's face hardened and her voice had scorn in it. "You in love with me? You forget that I know all about Murn."
"Murn?" The name rang vaguely familiar in Gordon's ears. Jhal Arn had mentioned "Murn."
Once more Gordon felt himself baffled by his ignorance of vital facts. He was cold sober now, and badly worried.
"I-I guess maybe I just had too much saqua at the Feast, after all," he muttered.
Lianna's amazement and anger had faded, and she seemed to be studying him with a curiously intent interest.
He felt relief when they were interrupted by a gay throng streaming out into the gardens. In the hours that followed, the presence of others made Gordon's role a little easier to play.
He was conscious of Lianna's gray eyes often resting on him, with that wondering look. When the gathering broke up and he accompanied her to the door of her apartments, Gordon was uneasily aware of her curious, speculative gaze as he bade her good night.
He mopped his brow as he went on the gliding motowalk to his own chambers. What a night! He had had about as much as one man could bear!
Gordon found his rooms softly lit, but the blue servant was not in evidence. He tiredly opened the door of his bedroom. There was a quick rush of little bare feet. He froze at sight of the girl running toward him, one he had never seen before.
She seemed of almost childish youthfulness, with her dark hair falling to her bare shoulders and her soft, beautiful little face and dark-blue eyes shining with gladness. A child? It was no child's rounded figure that gleamed whitely through the filmy robe she wore!
Gordon stood, stupefied by this final staggering surprise in an evening of surprises, as the girl ran and threw soft bare arms around his neck.
"Zarth Arn!" she cried. "At last you've come! I've been waiting so long!"
7: Star-Princess
John Gordon for the second time that night held in his arms a girl who thought he was the real Zarth Arn. But the dark-haired, lovely young girl who had thrown her arms around him was far different from the proud Princess Lianna.
Warm lips pressed his own in eager passionate kisses, as he stood bewildered. The dark hair that brushed his face was soft and perfumed. For a moment, impulse made Gordon draw her lithe figure closer.
Then he pushed her back a little. The beautiful little face that looked up at him was soft and appealing.
"You never told me that you had come back to Throon!" she accused. "I didn't know until I saw you at the Feast!"
Gordon stumbled for an answer. "I didn't have time. I-"
This final surprise of the day had staggered him badly. Who was this lovely young girl? One with whom the real Zarth Arn had been conducting an intrigue?
She was smiling up at him fondly, her little hands still resting on his shoulders.
"It's all right, Zarth. I came up right after the Feast and I've been waiting for you."
She snuggled closer. "How long will you be staying on Throon? At least, we'll have these few nights together."
Gordon was appalled. He had thought his fantastic imposture difficult before. But this-!
A name suddenly bobbed into his thoughts, a name that both Jhal Arn and Lianna had mentioned as though he knew it well. The name of "Murn." Was it the name of this girl?
He thought it might be. To find out, he spoke to her diffidently.
"Murn-"
The girl raised her dark head from his shoulder to look at him inquiringly.
"Yes, Zarth?"
So this was Murn? It was this girl of whom Lianna had mockingly reminded him. So that Lianna knew of his intrigue?
Well, the name was something, anyway. Gordon was trying to grope his way through the complexities of the situation. He sat down, and Murn promptly nestled in his lap.
"Murn, listen-you shouldn't be here," he began huskily. "Suppose you were seen coming to my apartment?"
Murn looked at him with astonishment in her dark blue eyes. "What difference does that make, when I'm your wife?"
His wife? Gordon, for the twentieth time that day, was smitten breathless by the sudden, complete destruction of his pre-conceived ideas.
How in Heaven's name could he keep up the part of Zarth Arn when he didn't know the most elementary facts about the man? Why hadn't Zarth Arn or Vel Quen told him these things?
Then Gordon remembered. They hadn't told him because it wasn't supposed to be necessary. It had never been dreamed that Gordon, in Zarth Arn's body, would leave Earth and come to Throon. That raid of Shorr Kan's emissaries had upset all the plan, and had introduced these appalling complications.
Murn, her dark head snuggled under his chin, was continuing in a plaintive voice.
"Even though I'm only your morganatic wife, surely there's nothing wrong about my being here?"
So that was it! A morganatic, an unofficial, wife! That custom of old had survived to the days of these star-kings!
For a moment, John Gordon felt a hot anger against the man whose body he inhabited. Zarth Arn, secretly married to this child whom he could not acknowledge publicly and at the same time preparing for a state marriage with Lianna-it was a nasty business!
Or was it? Gordon's anger faded. The marriage with Lianna was purely a political device to assure the loyalty of the Fomalhaut Kingdom. Zarth had understood that, and so did Lianna. She knew all about Murn, and apparently had not resented. Under those circumstances, was Zarth Arn not justified in secretly finding happiness with this girl he loved?