The Last Silver

As Isolde awoke, she lazily looked around her quarters.

The tablet beside her was still illuminated.

On its screen was the same picture of Dinraal she had fallen asleep staring at.

Her eyes widened.

Quickly, she snatched up the tablet and hid it just as her attendants entered the room.

"My lady," one of them said, "it's time to prepare."

Isolde forced herself out of bed and glanced toward the adjoining bathroom.

Claire, her primary attendant, had already drawn a bath to Isolde's exact specifications.

At least someone understood her.

Isolde slipped into the warm water and sank beneath the rising steam. For a few precious moments, she allowed herself to relax.

Then her thoughts drifted toward the day's duties.

She would have to meet with the leaders of yet another planet her father intended to subjugate.

How many times have I done this?

The thought soured her mood.

How many times had she stood before the leaders of sovereign species and presented them with two choices?

Slavery. Or death.

Their male leaders would be slaughtered. Their most prominent women, assuming they were considered attractive enough, would be reduced to breeding stock.

Those who were not considered useful would die alongside the men.

Isolde lowered herself deeper into the water.

How could Father keep sending me to do this?

Wasn't I supposed to be his princess?

A more frightening thought followed.

What if they attacked me?

What if they took me hostage and treated me the same way Father has treated so many others?

Would he even care?

Would he personally lead his armies here and burn this world to ash?

Would he arrive in time? Or would he simply write her off as another pawn lost on the board?

Isolde knew which answer frightened her most.

Her mother and Dinraal were the only people who had ever truly cared for her.

The only ones who had seen her as a person.

To her father, everyone was a tool.

You were useful. Or you were discarded.

If only one of them were here, she thought. I could leave and forget about all of this nonsense.

Her thoughts returned, as they so often did, to Dinraal.

Where are you now?

Do you ever think about me? Or have you forgotten me entirely?

Dinraal was considered impossibly handsome.

Even as a fugitive, he routinely appeared on lists ranking the most attractive males in the galaxy.

Women from nearly every species flooded message boards with discussions about him.

Whenever a new wanted poster appeared, the replies were often less about capturing him and more about marriage proposals and increasingly enthusiastic offers.

Isolde pouted.

He probably doesn't even think about me anymore.

If she had known that the man occupying her thoughts so often was currently moving into position to intercept and kidnap her, she might have helped him succeed.

"My lady."

Claire's voice drifted through the steam.

"We must leave if we are to arrive on time."

Isolde sighed.

"Fine. Hand me the towel."

She dressed quickly.

Beneath her lightweight battle regalia, she wore a sheer bodysuit designed to provide both flexibility and protection. She looked prepared for diplomacy—or war.

She drew her rapier from its scabbard and carefully inspected the blade for damage.

Satisfied, she returned it to its sheath.

Then she drew her sidearm and examined it with the practiced eye of someone who knew precisely how to use it.

Once she was satisfied that her equipment was in optimal condition, Isolde turned to Claire.

"Ready?"

Claire nodded.

Together, the two women made their way toward the teleportation room.

Elsewhere, Dinraal had already taken the teleportation pad planetside.

Now he waited.

He had positioned himself carefully, hidden from sight and ready to intercept his target and her attendant.

The teleportation pad flickered to life.

Dinraal drew his twin revolvers.

Light engulfed the platform.

Two forms began to materialize.

Dinraal stepped from his hiding place.

He fired a warning shot.

The crack of the weapon echoed through the room.

Claire immediately sensed the danger and moved in front of Isolde.

"Don't move!" Dinraal shouted. "It would only take one round."

Isolde moved.

But not in the way Dinraal expected.

She stepped around Claire and launched herself toward him.

Dinraal froze.

For one stunned second, his mind completely abandoned the carefully constructed kidnapping plan.

Then instinct took over.

He holstered his weapons and moved to catch her.

Isolde collided with him with enough force to knock them both backward.

They hit the floor with a heavy thud.

Dinraal braced himself for an attack.

None came.

Isolde simply remained on top of him.

Claire, who knew perfectly well about her lady's secret affection for the young man, made no attempt to intervene.

Instead, she hurried toward the teleportation controls and disabled the pad.

No one else would be arriving through it.

Dinraal noticed the movement.

In an instant, one of his revolvers was back in his hand.

He aimed it at Claire.

"Explain."

Claire immediately raised both hands.

"Wait! I was preventing anyone else from interfering."

Dinraal's eyes narrowed.

Then he looked down.

Isolde was still lying on top of him.

She rubbed her head against his chest like a contented cat.

Dinraal stared at her.

Completely bewildered.

"Ise," he said slowly, "what are you doing?"

Isolde looked up at him.

"I'm hugging you."

"I'm supposed to be kidnapping you."

"We haven't seen each other in six years." She tightened her arms around him. "Just let me hug you."

Claire watched the exchange with growing amusement.

Seeing Dinraal's confusion, she decided to help.

"She missed you."

Isolde froze.

Claire continued.

"She looks at your pictures every chance she gets. She even falls asleep staring at them every night."

Isolde slowly turned her head.

The glare she gave Claire could have killed an ordinary person.

Claire suddenly found the wall very interesting.

Dinraal cleared his throat.

"Ise, you're my sister. This is inappropriate."

Claire blinked.

Then she frowned.

"Actually… no."

Dinraal stared at her.

Claire continued.

"You have no blood ties."

The room went silent.

"Her father made up that lie because he didn't want to lose face after being outmaneuvered by your real parents."

Dinraal's expression changed.

Claire took a breath.

"So what the loyalists told me was true…I thought it was merely them trying to convince me to side with them.."

Dinraal looked as though he had just been struck by a falling mountain.

For several seconds, he could only stare. Then—

BOOM.

An explosion shook the building.

The floor trembled beneath them.

Claire and Dinraal exchanged confused looks.

For only the second time since Dinraal had appeared, Isolde looked away from his face.

"What was that?" she asked.

Neither of them answered immediately.

Dinraal pushed himself upright.

"I was the only operative assigned to this mission."

Claire moved toward the nearest window.

Outside, smoke was beginning to rise.

"I think we have a problem."

Dinraal's expression hardened.

"The attackers don't look human or dragonkin."

He turned toward the others.

"It must be the locals."

His eyes narrowed.

"But how could they possibly know we were here?"

Aboard the Jumpship

One of the princess's attendants worked frantically at the teleportation controls.

He attempted to reestablish the connection to the planet below.

Soon.

His people would begin their attack.

The moment the teleportation pad had flared, he had received confirmation that the princess had arrived.

Everything was proceeding according to plan.

Almost.

One of the genuine attendants stood beside him.

Assuming the man was working so desperately because he feared for the princess's safety, the attendant attempted to help.

"What is going on?"

The disguised operative glanced toward him.

"It looks like the pad has been shut down planetside."

The genuine attendant's expression darkened.

"The princess could be in danger."

"We need to get down there."

The attendants immediately moved toward the shuttle bay.

Within moments, they were boarding a transport bound for the planet.

Among them was Johanna, the leader of the princess's guard.

She had protected Isolde since childhood.

Over the years, they had grown up together.

Johanna looked toward the planet below.

Hold on, Princess.

Her jaw tightened.

"We're coming."

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