Loving The Prince

Chapter One

‘Well, you won’t believe this, Miss Wiltmore, but we’ve found that missing balcite.’

Cassandra Wiltmore, head of distribution of the Rican Balcite Mining Company and heir to the Rican throne, barely refrained from rolling her eyes.

This little drama was a regular part of the annual negotiations with the distributors that sold balcite, the most valuable element on the planet Jorda. Every year Brendin Spillworth came to them with his figures. Every year there was a discrepancy. Every year, he suddenly remembered that it had been a while since he’d done a stocktake and every year, the missing balcite would be miraculously found.

She felt sorry for Spillworth — his wife was spending his money faster than he could make it and he was too stupid for his attempts at theft to work.

But it only proved what Cassandra had always said — love made idiots out of everyone.

She spoke into his mind. All negotiations were done using mental communication. ‘I’m very pleased to hear that, Mr Spillworth. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you I was very concerned.’

He nodded, his shaggy red hair flopping around his open, honest face. The man couldn’t lie to save his life. ‘As was I, Miss Wiltmore.’

‘Send it back to us and we’ll check it against the inventory, then we’ll send the contract for the next 12 months through.’

‘Glad to do business, Miss Wiltmore.’ He stood and leant across the desk. Cassandra rose, took his hand and shook it.

‘Until next year, Mr Spillworth.’

The door closed behind him and laughter erupted from the corner of the room. ‘I’m going to miss Spillworth,’ Eorin said.

Cassandra glared over her shoulder at her protector — soon to be ex-protector. Thankfully his retirement wouldn’t happen for another few weeks and so she had him here for the negotiation period. Particularly for the negotiation that was coming up next.

‘Can you refresh the water jugs?’ she said aloud.

You only said the most innocuous things aloud in a negotiation room. Even though this one was within the RBMC headquarters and regularly swept, hearing devices were always being planted.

Negotiation rooms were lined with balcite, which stopped anyone outside reading the thoughts of those within. And Cassandra had an extra layer of protection — Eorin wrapped his mind-field around hers and would only let through the words that pertained to the negotiations.

But refreshing the water jugs wasn’t an innocuous thing to say — it was their code for Eorin to give the room a sweep and ensure the balcite lining was secure.

Cassandra was about to take on a woman who hated her and wanted to see her destroyed.

Nothing personal, of course. But Plissa Waltric, the largest distributor on Jorda, was intent on growing her business, at the expense of other distributors if necessary. Cassandra was determined to keep the flow of balcite spread amongst as many distributors as possible so the price wouldn’t inflate.

Cassandra went back to her office and caught up on some paperwork. The week of negotiations badly affected the rest of her work. After half an hour, she went back down to the meeting room.

Eorin stood outside. ‘All clear. Ms Waltric is already here.’

Cassandra nodded. She didn’t mind Waltric arriving first. It pandered to her ego, which helped Cassandra. She pushed on the door and it opened. Waltric was sitting in the chair Cassandra normally used, meaning she was in the position of power. Another thing Cassandra didn’t mind.

As she sat, Cassandra studied the other woman. Plissa Waltric was getting on in years, the small wrinkles in the corners of her eyes a sign of that. Otherwise, she was a large woman, muscular and with a powerful face and jaw. Physically, she was intimidating. Mentally, she was extremely powerful. So far, Eorin had always proved a match for Waltric, but still Cassandra worried.

Standing beside Waltric was her protector, an unassuming woman, with mousy brown hair and dull eyes. But Cassandra was pretty sure the protector had mental acuity scores that would make Cassandra look ordinary, otherwise she wouldn’t have the job.

‘Miss Wiltmore, a pleasure to see you, as always. Major Pedron.’ A smile curved Waltric’s lips but it did not reach her eyes, which watched with a predatory expression.

Cassandra nodded and sat down. ‘Time to begin.’

Eorin’s mind wrapped around Cassandra’s and she felt the familiar buzzing in her brain as it initially rebelled before accepting what was happening. At first, being protected had been a strange experience; she didn’t like another mind having power over hers. But now she found it comforting. ‘Ms Waltric, I’ll have your figures for the year, please.’

Waltric handed over a memory stick and Cassandra plugged it into her reader. It took some time to read the information because Waltric’s business was much larger than any other distributor. She had inherited it from her father, who had been one of the first balcite distributors.

Every once in a while, Cassandra was aware that her concentration suddenly slipped. She knew it was Waltric trying to reach her and Eorin stopping her. Unfortunately, there was little she could do to stop the attacks, beyond protecting herself. Outside of this room, it was a she-said/she-said situation and Cassandra didn’t have the time to argue it out.

Once she was finished reading, Cassandra looked at Waltric. ‘Impressive results, Ms Waltric. You must be very pleased with the success of your business.’ She took the stick out and handed it back over.

‘Considering how my growth is hampered, I am pleased.’ Waltric put the stick in her top pocket. Then she leaned forward, hands clasped together and lying on the table. ‘Those figures tell you that demand for my product continues to grow. I must receive more balcite in order for my business to prosper.’

‘I am well aware of how important it is to develop and grow a business. That is why I’m pleased to say that this year, we can give you an extra quarter of a per cent.’

‘I need at least two per cent to begin to cover the demand.’ Waltric’s words came into her head very calmly.

Cassandra barely stopped herself from reacting. Two per cent was ridiculous and Waltric knew it. ‘I wish I could offer you two per cent, for your success means our success, but it is impossible.’

‘Not at all, Miss Wiltmore. None of my competitors are as successful as I; you can find the extra percentage for me.’

Cassandra made sure she had good eye contact. ‘Your competitors may not be able to match your volume, but they can match your success. You simply have to be more competitive if you wish to cut them out of distribution.’

Waltric’s eyes narrowed. ‘I run a very fair but aggressive business.’

‘Then I am sure that next year, I will be in a position to offer you a greater share of the distribution. Now, if you look at my figures, you will see that output in the mine went up by one and a half per cent, meaning you will receive an extra three thousand tonnes on top of your extra percentage.’ Cassandra leaned forward to hand Waltric a memory stick.

She took the stick but did not put it into her reader. ‘I heard the figure was two point three per cent increase.’

‘Then you heard incorrectly, Ms Waltric. All the figures are there.’ Cassandra nodded to the stick.

Waltric put it into her reader and quickly scanned the figures. Then she looked up. ‘I wish to see the company books.’

‘If you see my assistant on your way out, she will provide you with them.’

‘A quarter of a per cent is not enough, Miss Wiltmore. I have never been happy with your management of this division and now I find myself compelled to act. I will have to take this up with the board.’

Cassandra leaned back in her seat. ‘Feel free, Ms Waltric, although I can assure you the board will not be able to find more than the quarter of a per cent for you.’

‘Your father is an intelligent and honourable businessman. He will do what is right for the company, not what is right for his family.’

Under the desk, Cassandra pushed her knees together in an effort to curb her anger. ‘I have no doubt of that, Ms Waltric.’

Waltric also leant back in her chair, her face taking on a smug expression. ‘Of course, a change in the balance of the distribution I am given would see me reconsider this action.’

‘I am all ears, Ms Waltric.’

‘I would be willing to accept the quarter of a per cent if the amount of enriched balcite I am allowed to carry rises to ten per cent of my overall allocation.’

Cassandra shook her head. Enriched balcite was the most valuable and rare form of balcite. A piece the size of a fist held enough power to flatten a building. ‘I cannot make any such promise, Ms Waltric, and you know that. Only the Planetarium can increase the amount of enriched balcite being distributed.’

‘I have an application before the Planetarium and it is only a matter of time before it is approved. I would have to wait until next year before I can access the extra E.’

‘And wait you will have to, Ms Waltric. I cannot alter your order until I have confirmation from the Planetarium.’

‘The Board will override you.’

‘The Board is subject to the same regulations as I am. You know the rules, Ms Waltric. They cannot be broken.’

Cassandra decided now was the time to end the conversation. ‘Was there anything else you wished to discuss, Ms Waltric?’ Speaking aloud was the sign the negotiation was over.

Waltric stood, smoothing down the jacket of her black suit. ‘We will see what the Board has to say about your inept management, Miss Wiltmore.’

With that, she swept out of the room, her protector following.

‘And so it ends,’ Eorin said. ‘Can’t say I’m going to miss this, Cass.’

‘Come back for negotiations next year,’ Cassandra said. Truth be told, she wasn’t looking forward to facing Plissa Waltric without Eorin. One day, the other woman was going to do something wrong and Cassandra didn’t doubt she’d require full protection when it happened.

***

Kernan Radaton sat at the back of the capsule and stared at the uncertain future before him. For the first time in his career, he didn’t have a job to go to. Instead, he was finally taking a chance and chasing the dream.

A family sitting in front of him kept jiggling each other and casting swift glances over their shoulders. He didn’t need his auditory implant turned on to know what they were saying.

‘That’s the man that saved the king.’

The scrutiny his actions had brought him under was one of the reasons he was leaving Angonia. The fact he was no longer physically able to serve in the King of Angonia’s guard was another.

Not that he’d been forced to leave — Gareth would have kept him on. But Kernan had recognised that this was the time to leave the first part of his career in security behind and move onto the second.

A stable job. Low risk. The perfect environment in which to marry and raise a family.

So he was returning to his birthplace, not just hoping to find the perfect job, but also hoping the woman he was joining was the one to make the rest of his dream come true.

To avoid the gazes of the family, Kernan turned in his seat to look back. The clear glass of the elevator and the capsule made it easy to look down on the planet of Jorda. It was a stunning view — blue ocean, and land masses in greens and browns. Directly below them was Angonia, the largest and richest of the land kingdoms of Jorda. Lots of flat, well-watered land, perfect for raising crops and animals.

To the north of Angonia, toward the unhospitable far north of the continent, was Zagham. From there had grown the Cult of Peace that was now the most recognised religion on the planet. One that was truly aimed at bringing peace and community, unlike the religions of the Mother Planet.

To the south of Angonia was Flactor, the strangest of the realms. Flactorians lived in one place — Flactor City — and the city was movable. Flactorians didn’t believe in worrying about the future, and so the city often became unsustainable and had to be relocated. They were slowly but surely reducing their land to ruin.

What would happen when their land ran out?

He couldn’t see the other main continent of Jorda but he ticked the countries off in his mind — Tatryn, a second Angonia although not as large and rich and nearing the equator, was the party hive of Haityn. The heat made everyone so much more laid-back there during the day, and at night when it cooled they kicked into action. It was a decadent, often immoral place and Kernan’s lips quirked at the memories he had of breaks from duty there.

He’d probably never have call to return there again — at least, not to his favourite haunts. They were not family friendly.

The capsule began to slow, and Kernan turned back around. The family were ignoring him now, pointing ahead and chattering. Kernan followed the line of their attention and his face curved into a smile.

Rica. The moon of Jorda. His birthplace. The richest colony of them all.

The home of balcite mining.

He’d been lucky that his trip home coincided with Rica’s orbit approaching the space station that housed the far end of the elevator. It meant just a short half-hour hop in a spacecraft. Otherwise, the trip could take up to a day.

Whenever Rica came close to the station there was always an upswing in tourists. Visiting Rica was expensive, but it was the trip of a lifetime for the land bound denizens of Jorda.

Interestingly, few Ricans made the return trip. Rica held everything they needed and they could see the planet well enough. Ricans were a stoic lot and they tended to frown upon the excesses that unbound space caused on the planet below.

He’d always intended his children would be raised Rican, and now he hoped it was time.

The capsule crawled into the space station, gliding down a silver tunnel before coming to a halt beside a platform. They’d come into the tourist side of the station — everything was polished and sparkly and the uniforms of security were clean.

Most of his travels to and from Rica had taken place on the other side of the station, where the balcite was distributed. It was utilitarian and there was a film of dust on everything. Somehow, that felt more comfortable than this.

The capsule opened and security started to direct everyone over to immigration. Kernan was last out and he started to follow the crowd when a shout greeted him.

‘Kernan!’

He turned and welcomed the sight of Hera Wiltmore running towards him. They’d met a month ago on Angonia. He had been in the final stages of his rehabilitation when Venus Wiltmore, Rica’s Planetarium envoy, had come to see the fabled son of Rica and had brought her niece, Hera, with her.

Hera had promised to be a welcome distraction from the boredom of being almost well, and so she’d proven to be. Her enthusiastic tumble into his bed had been very arousing.

As they’d gotten to know each other, he’d begun to wonder if maybe Hera was the one. She was confident, articulate, and ambitious — qualities he admired. They had fun together, both in and out of bed. He could easily see himself spending the rest of his life with her.

Hera reached him and Kernan grabbed her waist, spinning her around as she flung her arms around his neck. She laughed, and then sighed as he pulled her body tight against his.

‘I missed you,’ she said and then kissed him.

Yes, he could be very happy with her.

Hera pulled back and smiled up at him. ‘Come.’ She took his hand and started to lead him away from the immigration gates.

‘Where are we going?’

‘To the RBMC executive craft. No passing through immigration like the nothings for you. You’re with a Wiltmore now.’

Kernan frowned. Special treatment made him feel uncomfortable. ‘I’m fine going on the shuttle-craft with everyone else.’

‘Well, I’m not,’ Hera said. ‘I can’t strip you naked and do wicked things to you on the shuttle-craft.’

Good point, Kernan thought.

Hera gave security a wave as they exited the hall and approached a small, sleek ship. Kernan’s steps slowed. This was one of the most expensive vessels around. He knew the Rican Balcite Mining Company was doing well, but that they could afford to fly their executives in this sort of ship…

And if what he’d read was correct, the main reason for this apparent wealth was the current head of distribution. Cassandra Wiltmore. Hera’s cousin.

The person he was hoping to work for.

Kernan shook his head with a wry grin. If he won the job as Cassandra Wiltmore’s protector, he’d have to get used to travelling this way.

If. There was no doubt that he’d be offered the job — there were only a handful of people on the planet who could match his mental acuity scores. The only issue would be if he and Cassandra could connect.

As head of distribution, she had to have some capacity for telepathy. But he’d never heard any rumours of her being exceptionally good, and Hera had none at all. Perhaps he would be incapable of working with her.

Hera led him onto the ship and into the travelling compartment. It held a lounge area, and a couple of desks with computer ports and executive chairs. A waiter came forward with a tray. Hera took a glass of sparkling wine but Kernan waved it away.

Now that the injury sustained on Angonia had rendered him physically unfit to be security, his mental abilities were all he had to recommend him. He wouldn’t risk them.

‘Now,’ Hera purred, putting a hand against his chest and smiling up at him. ‘We’ve half an hour until we get to Rica. Let’s make the most of it.’

Kernan grinned. ‘Never let it be said that I let a lady down.’ He put a hand around her waist and hauled her against his chest. The sudden action spilled some of Hera’s wine. She gasped and his grin widened — she loved it when he was forceful.

‘Welcome home, Kernan Radaton,’ he said, and then he kissed her.

Chapter Two

Cassandra looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head. Not that great, but it was the best she could do, with her drab curly, brown hair and overly enthusiastic curves.

She’d never be a great beauty. That was why she’d put everything she had into work. In the week since the negotiations had ended, she’d worked twelve-hour days to catch up. It was Friday night and she’d finally managed to finish at a sensible hour. She’d love to kick back at home, relax, and get a massage, but her cousin Hera was hosting a party to introduce her new boyfriend to the family and her mother was insisting Cassandra go. Family came before everything in Venus’ mind and with Cassandra destined to be the head of the family one day, she couldn’t say no.

Another glance in the mirror and she decided that she didn’t care that she wasn’t that attractive. Until she stepped from her room and saw her twin sister.

The gown was silver and almost pasted to Diana’s tall, slender form. A split to mid-thigh revealed a smooth leg and the neckline was low enough to show her cleavage and hint at even greater beauty. Blonde hair was piled upon her head, little wisps framing her face. Silver bangles and a silver chain completed the outfit.

‘Damn,’ Cassandra muttered as Diana saw her and turned a pirouette. If being a twin wasn’t bad enough, why did her twin have to be the most beautiful woman on the planet?

‘Do you like what you bought for me?’ Even Diana’s voice was beautiful, a sultry whisper that promised men every pleasure.

Diana didn’t work and was constantly borrowing money from Cassandra. From time to time, Cassandra found the strength to say no but most of the time it wasn’t worth the fight. As it had been earlier today when Diana had swanned into her office and demanded money for a new outfit.

Hera was introducing a new man to the circle and it didn’t matter that he was spoken for — he wasn’t married and so he was free game in Diana’s eyes. She was dressing to impress.

‘I see my taste remains exquisite,’ Cassandra said. ‘You know, if you put half the effort into the company that you do into your looks, you’d be a business whiz.’

‘When the company gives me the returns that my looks do, I’ll consider it. Speaking of looks, can’t you do any better than that?’ Diana looked her up and down.

‘Didn’t want to risk outshining you.’ Cassandra turned and walked down the hall. Diana followed.

‘You know, with a bit of effort, you could be half-decent.’

Right. ‘I have better things to do with my life.’

‘What life?’ They stopped and waited for the door to the transport room to open. ‘Still, if you didn’t work like a dog, I wouldn’t be wearing this, would I?’

‘Exactly, so show me a little respect.’ The door opened and the women stepped into the clear capsule that waited. The lid closed, encasing them. Cassandra punched in their destination and the capsule began to move forward, leaving the room and sliding into a tube.

‘Respect is shown when respect is given,’ Diana said.

Cassandra rolled her eyes. ‘And now she remembers one of Father’s expressions. Funny how they all refer to business and you use them for anything but.’

‘Father tried to teach us a lot more than just business, Cassandra. You are the only one of us who didn’t work that out.’

The trip only took a few minutes and the capsule came to a halt in another small room. Cassandra and Diana stepped into Hera’s home.

‘Good evening, my girls.’ Their father waited for them, handsome as always in a dark suit with a dark tie and white shirt.

‘Good evening, Father.’ Diana stepped forward and kissed his cheek. Andar took her hands and pushed her back a little.

‘Peace. Diana, you are a vision. Isn’t she a vision, Cassandra?’

‘Blinding, Father.’

Andar cast her a look that clearly said,