Jainan had never been able to sense Kiem’s stress or anger as he had Taam’s and had put that down to the newness of their marriage. But now, all of a sudden, he could feel Kiem’s huge, expectant glee beside him, and he blamed that for what he said next. “Bull wrestling.”
“Wrestling … bulls?” The man’s brow wrinkled. Kiem was overcome by a sudden fit of coughing, but Jainan kept his blandest expression on his face. “That sounds … Your Highness, are you all right?”
“Oh, yes,” Kiem said. “Getting a cold. Too many dares. Do excuse us, lots of planning to do.” He clapped Vaile on the shoulder, shook her companion’s hand vigorously, and made a swift escape with Jainan’s hand still clamped on his arm. By unspoken consensus they quickened their stride until they were over the bridge.
They neared the courtyard of the main palace entrance, where there was a scattering of people, and slowed down when they were definitely out of sight of the bridge. Jainan’s rapid heartbeats slowed as well, and with it the brief warmth, and they both remembered at the same time that they were in something like an argument.
They didn’t stop walking this time. The drone of traffic faded behind them as the sound-screens that protected the palace kicked in. “So,” Kiem said. “I’m going around the side entrance. If I remember right, then it’s closer to the staff buildings and Internal Security. Do you want to come?”
Jainan wavered. He thought about going back to their rooms and waiting dutifully while his future was decided for him. He thought about the crash data. He took a breath. “Yes,” he said. “I would like to come.”
CHAPTER 11
“You’re where?” Bel said through Kiem’s ear implant.
“Outside Internal Security’s offices, trying to get in,” Kiem said. He kicked his heels against the desk he was sitting on, caught Jainan’s involuntary glance, and stopped. They were deep in the palace’s staff buildings among a bustle of administrators and desks. Across a corridor, the guard they’d just talked to kept casting them uncomfortable looks. “They won’t even let me in without a meeting. How quickly can you set me up a meeting? I need the head person.”
“With the head of Internal Security? Not fast, their contact details aren’t even published internally.”
“Okay, give me their name and I’ll try and bluff it.”
“When I said contact details, that included their name,” Bel said. “Searching for it probably puts you on a watch list. I’ll do some digging.”
“Thanks. Message me if you get it,” Kiem said. He cut the call. Jainan had perched himself on the edge of a spare chair and was watching Kiem with the blank look that seemed to mean wariness. Kiem gave him what was meant to be a reassuring smile—there was no sign that it worked—and made another call. “Hey, uh, Roal. Yeah, it’s Kiem. Long time no see. Hey, quick question—you know when you moved jobs, was that to Internal Security? Great, I thought so.” He glanced around. The noise of the office probably covered him, but he lowered his voice anyway. “I need a favor. I need the name of your boss and the contact pin to their office.”
Jainan could definitely overhear the conversation. There was now a slight frown on his face. As Kiem finished the call, Jainan said, “Will that get them in trouble?”
“No,” Kiem said, “because I won’t say who I got it from.”
Jainan gave him a long, scrutinizing look, and Kiem started to wonder if he’d done something wrong, but all Jainan said was, “How do you know all these people?”
“Just … normally,” Kiem said. “Everyone does, right?”
“No,” Jainan said. He fell in beside Kiem as they went back to Internal Security’s receptionist.
Kiem gave the receptionist his best smile. The security guard hovered by his shoulder. “Sorry, just got the details through from my aide. Chief Agent Rakal, please, and here’s the pin for their office.” He made a gesture that threw a tiny display from his wristband onto the desk. “I know we’re not on the list, but let them know I’m here, would you?”
“Your Highness—” the receptionist said, after exchanging uneasy glances with the security guard.
“Just—try the call, please,” Kiem said. “Tell them I was really obnoxious. Tell them I’m going to rearrange through General Tegnar if Agent Rakal won’t see me, and then I’ll bring the general to the meeting.” He didn’t like bringing her name into it, but he remembered Jainan’s resigned acceptance about having his communications cut off, and it was enough to stifle that faint concern. “This isn’t your problem, I know. Put me through to Agent Rakal and it won’t be.”
“I’ll just—I’ll just contact their office,” the receptionist said, after trading another glance with the guard. Kiem nodded thanks and wandered away a couple of steps to join Jainan.
“General Tegnar?” Jainan murmured. “Is that your mother?”
“The one and only,” Kiem said. Jainan gave him a sideways look, evidently trying to square the picture of a successful general with the observed reality of Kiem. “Really let’s try not to get her involved, she’s based off-planet anyway. I don’t think she knew Taam. It will take her at least a month to find out I used her name.” The receptionist was holding out a speaker. Kiem strode over and took it. “Hi!” he said. “Prince Kiem here to see you. It will only take a few minutes. I hope you’ve got a few minutes, because I’m going to be camping out here until you do.”
The voice at the other end was professionally noncommittal, but that seemed to do the trick. In a very short amount of time, a nervous-looking junior agent came out to usher them inside.
It wasn’t as exciting as Kiem had thought. Internal Security’s offices were like the administration areas outside, except slightly grayer and older-looking. Kiem’s wristband buzzed against his skin and went dead. He glanced sideways to check how Jainan was doing but he needn’t have worried: however agitated Jainan might have been on the walk back, now his face was clean of all expression and he was a model of grace and poise.
Then Kiem caught sight of an agent turning a corner ahead of them, and stopped dead.
“Your Highness?” the junior agent said.
“I know her,” Kiem said. “I met her in the gardens outside our rooms last week. I thought she was a security guard.”
“I can’t comment on personnel, Your Highness,” the junior agent said apologetically. “This way, if you please?” While Kiem was still trying to work out how to ask Internal Security if they were spying on him, she brought them to a door at the end of the corridor, scanned her bios—retina and hand movement—and gestured them through into Agent Rakal’s office.
The office was aggressively nondescript, as shabby as the rest of the quarters. The only splash of color was the gold-framed portrait of the Emperor above the agent waiting behind the desk. They rose as Kiem and Jainan entered. “Your Highness.”
Chief Agent Rakal—that was who it must be—barely came up to Kiem’s shoulder. They were slightly built and trim in Internal Security’s black uniform, and their hair was half-braided and pulled back in a neat clip. Their neck and wrists were bare of any ornament marking gender.