“Coffee?” I asked.
Kosandion didn’t seem to have heard me.
Sean poured two mugs, one for him, one for me. Sometimes coffee was truly a life-saver.
The results of Cookie’s fact-gathering appeared on the screen. Reports, video footage, testimonies… Ten minutes into it, Kosandion stood up, walked over to our table, poured himself a cup of coffee, dumped sugar into it, and went back to the screen. His face showed no emotion, but a storm had to be brewing inside. The Muterzen pirate had barely covered his tracks. Everything in his dossier indicated that long-term planning and attention to detail never made it into his bag of tricks. He was impulsive and careless. His assumed identity might have passed a superficial check, but the top candidates were rigorously vetted. The moment Kosandion’s people started to dig, the warning bells would’ve gone off.
If it was negligence or incompetence, the blow would’ve been bad enough. Kosandion would look like a fool who was unable to hire the right staff and properly supervise them. An inept leader who allowed a notorious criminal accused of monstrous atrocities to come within one step of becoming a parent of the Dominion’s next ruler.
Sadly, it wasn’t just incompetence. It was much worse.
Cookie’s briefing ran its course, and the recording of Sean vs Pirate Cruiser rolled on the screen. Kosandion viewed this grand epic with the same dispassionate expression. His own private view of Kolinda was directed at a different section of the ocean. If he had been out on the balcony during the attack, he might have seen some flashes to his far right, but the void field ensured that he would’ve heard nothing.
On the screen Sean tore into the pirate vessel.
Kosandion’s eyebrows rose a millimeter.
The cruiser broke in half.
“Once Clan Nuan started digging, the pirates realized that their prince’s cover was about to be blown,” Sean said. “Since we cut off all communications between the candidates and the rest of the galaxy, they couldn’t warn him. They chose to attack the inn. Entering our solar system wasn’t an option, so they opted for Kolinda. If the inn functioned like a typical hotel full of VIPs and was equipped with a portal, as soon as the attack began, the guests would have been immediately evacuated. The pirate prince is a scumbag, but he isn’t stupid. The Muterzen crew counted on him putting two and two together and slipping away in the chaos.”
“Whoever fed them the intel about Gertrude Hunt does not understand how the inns operate,” I added.
Kosandion leaned back and studied both of us. “There is more?”
Yes, there was.
Sean put a small dark crystal onto the table in front of Kosandion. “Their log.”
Somehow, in the middle of all that killing, Sean had paused long enough to retrieve the cruiser’s log. It showed the entirety of their communications, every incoming and outgoing message, and all their maneuvering. I’d been thinking about it, and I was pretty sure that getting that log was the reason he’d launched himself at the spaceship in the first place.
“They moved into Kolinda’s orbit three Earth days ago and immediately started scanning the surface, looking for energy anomalies,” Sean said. “We maintain a protective shield over the terrace and the balcony. It gives off a slight energy signature. Since Kolinda isn’t inhabited by a sapient species and has no industry, we stood out like a sore thumb.”
“They knew the inn had a door here, on this planet,” Kosandion said.
“Not only that, but their vessel was ordered to Kolinda nine hours before the first spousal candidate entered the inn,” I said.
Kosandion’s mouth turned into a hard line.
The candidates and their delegations had no idea which inn they were going to until they arrived at Gertrude Hunt. The Dominion had insisted on secrecy.
“When that order was issued, only three people from the Dominion knew that Gertrude Hunt had a Kolinda door,” Sean said.
Kosandion himself, Miralitt, and Resven. Miralitt and Resven had come to tour the inn, and we took them to the Ocean Dining Hall. They saw Kolinda. Miralitt had asked me about it. She wanted to know if it was a weak point in our security. I gave her a detailed explanation.
A wolf stared at Kosandion through Sean’s eyes. “How much do you trust your people?”
The Sovereign’s expression turned dark. The change was so sudden, I had to fight an urge to get out of my chair and back away.
“More than two of my people knew,” he said.
He touched the screen. It pulsed with blood red.
“Who are the others?” I asked.
“Orata,” he said. “Resven gave her a summary of your inn’s capabilities and his impressions of it. One she would have shared with her staff.”
Oh.
Orata’s face appeared on the screen. Her silver-blue hair was tousled, and a wrinkle from a pillow creased her cheek.
Kosandion pulled up the pirate’s face on the screen. “Who vetted this man?”
Orata blinked, and alarm sparked in her eyes. “Vercia Denoma.”
The name landed like a Molotov cocktail, splashing the three of us with its explosive fire.
Neither Sean nor I knew much about the inner workings of the Dominion, but that name was mentioned in just about every broadcast. Vercia Denoma, a scion of a prominent Dominion family, renowned for their political and humanitarian contributions, stunning, educated, elegant. A year ago, she began a relationship with Kosandion, and seven months ago it ended. There was wild speculation that she would enter the spousal selection and equally loud disappointment when she did not. The Dominion media had given her a nickname meant to describe her unique beauty and complex charm. They called her Aalind Voun. That’s how I remembered her name. Aalind Voun translated to “Special Snowflake.”
Kosandion’s voice could have frozen a supernova. “Bring her to me.”
Vercia Denoma was a truly stunning woman. Her skin was a light taupe, and her hair was a deep shade with a touch of cinnamon, unusual for the Dominion. The pale orange gown draping her tall, slender frame complemented both. Her features were sharply cut, forceful rather than delicate, an echo of the aggressive beauty particular to the Dominion’s upper class. This same genetic pool had produced Caldenia all those decades ago, but where Her Grace was a tour de force, Vercia was an ice princess. She held herself like her spine didn’t know it could bend.
She came into the throne room behind Orata, flanked by four Capital Guardsmen in full armor. While Orata had traveled to Vercia’s home and detained her, both Resven and Miralitt caught up on the crisis. They watched her enter, Miralitt cold and unfeeling like a block of marble and Resven staring with burning hostility.
Sean and I stood to the side in our robes with the hoods up. To an outside observer, the two of us looked faceless, silent, and motionless. This drama would need to play out without interference. Strictly speaking, we shouldn’t have been here, but I had gotten paranoid about Kosandion’s safety. Sean had always been paranoid, so it worked out.
Vercia raised her head and hit Kosandion with a punishing stare. Even sitting down, Kosandion was tall, and the raised platform of his throne put him six feet above Vercia’s head. She managed to look down on him all the same.
This wouldn’t go well.