Burning for Love by Evangeline Anderson

51

“Yes, my dear, it is I.” Duke Grabbington advanced on her, grinning evilly as he did so. “I was going to try and preserve the illusion a little while longer, but now that we are married, I suppose there is no need for secrets between us.”

“But you…how did you…?”

Rissa shook her head, so horrified she could not even go on.

“How did I give myself a whole new appearance? Simple my dear—with a bit of alien technology. See this?” Stooping, he lifted the wig she had batted off his head and pointed to a small white sphere embedded in the very front of it. “This is a Likanthian projection bead. It projects a three-dimensional image which completely covers one from every direction, providing seamless camouflage for the wearer. In this case, myself.” He grinned toothily and put a hand on his chest. “Turning me into a dashing young Lord from the Second Court and a perfect suitor for the hand of the Princess.”

“You…you cannot do this!” Rissa still felt stunned. “You cannot get away with this deception!”

“Ah, but I already have, my dear! All the world now knows me as Lord Shammington, Royal Consort to Princess Ka’rissa—soon to be King to her Queen, as soon as I convince that fool, the Steward, that I possess enough Royal blood to be more than just a consort. He should be easy to convince—he would much rather have a man ruling the planet than a woman, anyway—which is why he dillydallied in finding your mother a suitor until she self-immolated.”

“That will never happen—you will never rule Regalia Five!” Rissa protested.

“Indeed I will.” He took a step towards her, grinning even wider. “I shall have everything I ever wanted—power and wealth beyond measure. Not to mention a lovely bride.” His eyes roved over her body greedily, making Rissa feel sick.

“Stay away from me!” She took a step back from him. “We…we are not properly married, since you took your vows under false pretenses and a false name and appearance,” she added, wrapping her arms around herself to try and hide her points.

To her surprise, the Duke didn’t try to pursue her.

“Very well,” he said and shrugged, as though it didn’t matter a bit. “I shall leave you quite alone, dear Princess, as that is your wish.”

“You…you will?” Rissa didn’t trust this new magnanimity one bit. “But I thought you wanted to…to…”

“To fuck you? To impregnate you with my child? Well, yes—that would be lovely. Especially because I am quite certain you wouldn’t enjoy it one bit.” The Duke smirked at her. “But, no. I choose not to. After all, there are plenty of maids to spend my lust on and I think I would rather let you burn.”

“I…don’t understand.” Rissa shook her head.

“I am speaking of your Heat Cycle, of course.” He strolled back to the couch, the wig still in one hand, and picked up the small black remote that Lady Mildew had presented to him earlier. “Did you think I would use this?” he asked, pointing it at the Chastity Device clamped around Rissa’s waist and hips. “Did you think I would take it off so I could fuck you and slake your Heat, Princess?”

Rissa wished he would stop using such crude words. When James had explained what happened between a man and a woman, he had called it “making love.” But of course, such a term could not apply to anything that might happen between herself and the Duke.

“I…I thought…” She shook her head, unable to go on.

“Think again, Princess.” With a sudden, swift move, Duke Grabbington threw the small black remote into the fire.

“Oh!” Rissa ran to the fireplace, but it was too late—the remote was already a melting blob of black. She turned to the Duke. “What have you done!”

“I have ensured that no one—not even me—can ever slake your Heat, Princess.” He grinned at her, his mustaches twitching evilly. “You are doomed, my dear. Doomed to burn to ashes, just like your dear Mama before you. And that will leave me quite alone to rule the planet as I see fit.”

“You cannot do this to me!” Rissa exclaimed. “Why? I don’t understand!”

The Duke shrugged.

“I wanted power and prestige—now I have both. Why should I share them with a mouthy little bitch like you? There really was a real Lord Shammington at the Second Court, you know,” he went on, meditatively as he stared into the fire where the remote had now melted completely. “He would have made an excellent husband for you, too—he had Royal blood—a very fine pedigree. Unfortunately, after I had him kidnapped and thoroughly scanned in order to use his image, he expired quite unexpectedly.”

“I am quite sure it was not as unexpected as all that,” Rissa said in a low voice.

“Well, it is possible that he was stabbed a few times by my guards.” The Duke shrugged. “A regrettable occurrence, of course, but one cannot have the man one is impersonating running around free.” He turned to Rissa. “Just as I cannot have you running around free, my dear.”

Rissa shrieked and danced back, out of his reach.

“Don’t touch me! Leave me alone!” she gasped.

“You are so very tiresome—‘don’t touch me, leave me alone’,” the Duke mimicked in a high, whining voice. “That kind of thing is all you ever say.”

“Because I do not wish to have you anywhere near me!” As she spoke, Rissa was backing towards the door. To her surprise, the Duke didn’t rush her again—he simply let her go.

“Fine.” He shrugged. “Go on about your business and leave me alone.”

Rissa’s hand was on the door latch now, but she couldn’t help staring at him.

“You’re just…letting me go?”

“Why not?” He raised his eyebrows at her. “It occurs to me that it will be less messy if you burn to death from your unslaked Heat outside my new bed chamber. Just try not to burn the palace down when you burst into flames.”

“But…but you can’t just send me out to die!” Rissa protested. “There will be an outcry—public outrage!”

“Oh, no doubt there will be some sadness among the common people, but nobody who counts is going to care,” the Duke told her. “Think back to how it was when your dear Mama, the Queen, self-immolated. There was mourning the planet over and some stern talk about censuring the old Steward for not finding her a suitor to slake her Heat in time to save her life, but all of it came to nothing.”

With a sinking feeling, Rissa realized he was right. Why had she never thought of things this way before? Why had she put her trust so blindly in the Steward when he had let her mother die? She had been too innocent—too naïve to see the truth.

Or maybe you just didn’t want to see it, whispered a little voice in her head.

“This is terrible,” she whispered, putting a hand to her face. “I…I never thought of it that way. But how…why…?”

The Duke shrugged.

“Because nobody really wants a woman running the planet, my dear. And now that they have a Royal Consort with enough Royal blood in his veins to be crowned King, they won’t give a damn that the dear Princess burned to ashes before her new husband could get her Chastity Device off.” He smirked evilly. “Of course, dear Lady Mildew will probably hang for it, since she put the device on you in the first place and I shall place the blame of losing the remote squarely on her shoulders. For how could I slake my new wife’s Heat when I could not get the device which she placed on you, off?”

“You…you are horrible and heartless!” Rissa exclaimed. She disliked her old chaperone immensely, but she didn’t wish her dead! For that matter, she didn’t want to die herself, either. Her words didn’t appear to affect the Duke at all.

“Yes, I suppose I am, aren’t I?” he mused, looking into the fire. “Perhaps not the best character traits. Still, being ‘horrible and heartless’ has gotten me what I’ve always wanted, so forgive me for not feeling terribly distressed at your low opinion of me, Princess.”

“I’ll tell!” Rissa warned him. “I’ll let everyone know what you’re doing and planning!”

He shrugged again.

“You can try, but I doubt anyone will listen to you. They’ll just call me and then I shall say that you’ve gone mad because of your Heat Cycle.” He made a dismayed face, with wide eyes and both hands to his cheeks. “Oh, dear—my poor angel ran out of the room, looking for the remote to remove that dreadful Chastity Device that cruel old woman put on her! We cannot find it anywhere and my sweet wife is losing her mind because her brain is boiling in her poor, precious skull!”

His words were so horribly cold and calculating that Rissa honestly thought for a moment she might be sick.

“You…I can’t believe you,” she whispered. “You are truly evil.”

“I suppose,” the Duke said coldly. “Now, do go on.” He made a flicking gesture with his fingers, as though to shoo her off like a troublesome fly. “Oh, and don’t bother to try and tell anyone my little secret.” He placed the wig firmly back on his head and suddenly he was Lord Shammington again. “No one will ever believe you—they’ll only think you mad.”

As Rissa left, she closed the door on the sound of his awful laughter.