“Oh, I had a gorgeous sleep. It is easy to do when lying on a mattress of such gorgeous, adoring males.” Lieja turned to tickle her current favorite, a Nintharian male with pearly, iridescent skin, beneath his garish pink goatee. His name was Razael, if my memory served me right—and generally, it did. His hair was nearly the same color of Atlanta’s, though where the color suited her, it merely looked ridiculous on him. “You should join us sometime, Apex. You know my bedchamber policy. There is always room for one more.”
“A generous offer, but one which I must decline.” I sipped at the gilly juice, too saccharine for my taste, though it would have been rude to refuse it and Lieja as well in one sitting. “Lady Idria does not permit her specters to engage in such matters.”
“Unless you are attempting to gain secret information from reluctant informants, as I hear it.” Lieja’s voice was teasing—and obnoxious. “Just imagine, Apex, the things that I could tell you if you were to earn my favor…”
“You will have to take that up with Lady Idria.” It was not that Lieja was an unattractive female. Quite the opposite. She was tall and curvaceous, with broad hips and ample cleavage that she rarely missed an opportunity to show off—but I was not a man so easily moved by beauty.
Lieja was spiteful, arrogant and vain. She had nothing of Atlanta’s passion or wit either. Decidedly not my type.
“You are no fun at all, Apex.” Lieja pouted, a thing she seemed to do quite often. If she thought it would help her have her way with me, though, she was mistaken. “Do you do everything that Lady Idria tells you?”
“I was sworn to her shortly after birth. It is an oath I renew regularly.”
“The way I hear it, you and Idria have had your…shall we say, differences in the past, though.”
“Your information is full of holes then, Your Highness.” I knew what she spoke of. News of my deeds in service to the Lunarian Generals Kloran and Haelian, two thorns in Idria’s side, had apparently traveled. “Any insurrection on my part was just for show, to gain intelligence on my lady’s enemies and garner their trust as well. As you know, we specters do not always work in the most straightforward of ways.”
“Of course.” Lieja nodded, apparently appeased by this explanation. “A pity that Idria’s orders do not allow you to work horizontally more often, is all.”
I bit back a groan. If Lieja did not drop this nonsense about having me in her bed soon, I feared I would be sick before this meal was done.
“Speaking of Idria’s orders…” I changed the subject as quickly as I could. “I have a boon to ask of you, Your Highness. May I?”
Lieja turned to me slowly, a pleased smile on her lips as she pulled the low neck of her gown slightly more to one side. “Of course, Apex. You may ask whatever you wish of me. For you, I am sure, I will be more than happy to grant you your desires.”
I made the rendezvous with Gallix and Ronan nearly half an hour late. Lieja had forced me to sit through six courses while she deliberated. Like all of her other feasts that I had attended out of necessity, it had been just short of torture.
But if I’d been a more jovial man, I would have arrived with a spring in my step.
I always got what I wanted in the end.
“Took you long enough!” Gallix puffed his chest out indignantly and threw his arms out wide. “We were about ready to give up waiting and go look for your body. Figured you must have gotten your throat slit! Blood!”
“It is not like you to be late,” Ronan added. He was leaned up against the wall outside the door to my quarters, three of his arms crossed over his chest, his fourth propped up on the others so he could rest his chin in his hand. “How was breakfast?”
“Long.” If I had eaten more than just a few bites of each course, I was sure my stomach would have burst. I had no idea how Lieja managed it. Every plate that had been set before her, she had devoured.
“And? Is the plan—”
“Gallix,” I said with a hint of warning in my voice. I looked around to ensure we were not overheard, then opened my door and waved them inside. “I do not think this is a conversation that should be held in the hall.”
Inside, Ronan stood serene at the foot of my bed while Gallix collapsed into the armchair in the corner. I closed the door behind us and locked it for good measure before I addressed them.
“The plan is in motion. Atlanta is being transferred out of the dungeons as we speak.”
Gallix’s face lit up and he clapped, then let out a triumphant holler. “Time for action, then! I can get the ship ready; Ronan can plot our course—”
Ronan stared at me for a moment, then sighed. “It will not be that easy, will it?”
“It will not,” I confirmed. “We must manage this carefully. Just because Atlanta is no longer in chains does not mean that she is free here—and neither are we. Until I can arrange for a suitable moment to evacuate her, we must all continue to play our parts. Yes, Gallix. Even you.”
Gallix closed his mouth and frowned. “Easy for you to say. You are the guest of honor here, Apex. Ronan and I, though…”
“You are unhappy with the roles you must play?” I arched an eyebrow. “If you would prefer to sit through Lieja’s half-witted jokes and innuendos while I march around the palace trying to look busy, then please, Gallix, by all means.”
“He is only trying to say that we are not used to sitting idle,” Ronan explained. “We are warriors, Apex. Not manservants, as you’ve told the queen. It is not in our nature to wait and wonder
