He’d had a plan, one he wasn’t going to let an “empty-headed princess” deter him from. Even seven years ago he’d been a real charmer. But what he lacked in charm, he made up for in sheer, pigheaded determination.
In just three years he’d moved from bodyguard to director of security—and no one was quite certain how. The position usually only went to someone with decades of experience, not a kid who, at the time, hadn’t even hit twenty-five. Now that he’d entered his late twenties, he was still at least three decades younger than his peers.
I flopped onto my canopy bed and let the curtain fall closed behind me. Custom-designed, the bed acted as an isolation chamber that blocked most wireless signals. The curtains were three layers of a fine metal mesh that connected at the top and bottom to metal embedded in the canopy and under the mattress. The metal cage directed signals around the bed and canceled out the signals in the space inside, leaving me in blissful quiet.
I’d also completely shielded my office on the pretense of security, and the rest of my suite had a smaller amount of shielding hidden behind the paint and plaster. Just because I was a science experiment didn’t mean I had to be miserable in my own home.
I sighed in relief as my headache started to subside. Even when I wasn’t focusing on a signal, my nanos and brain were decoding it, like a computer running in the background. I hadn’t yet found a way to turn it off, but the human body was remarkably adaptable. When I’d first been modified, I couldn’t stand unshielded spaces for more than an hour or two without passing out. Today, I’d been out for eight hours and while my head hurt, I was still functional.
I had stayed out longer than I’d planned, and I had another event tonight. I had enough time for a nap, but then I’d have to get up and dressed for House Chan’s betrothal ball. Their only daughter was marrying a wealthy businessman and rumors indicated she might not be thrilled about her upcoming nuptials. I needed to see if the rumors were true. Plus, I’d already agreed to be House von Hasenberg’s ambassador for the event, and House Chan was an ally. If I didn’t show, there would be consequences.
There were always consequences.
“Alfred,” I said to my suite computer, “wake me up in two hours. Until then, do not disturb me unless it’s urgent.”
A chime indicated acceptance of the command. With my com in the isolation cage with me, my messages would automatically be routed to my suite computer, allowing the system to wake me if something important came through.
With that final thought, I dropped into sleep with the ease of someone who’d learned to grab sleep whenever possible.
The gentle alarm brought me to instant awareness. My headache was gone. I felt good enough that tonight might not be terrible. I stretched and enjoyed the quiet for another minute before I opened the curtain and let in the cacophony of signals.
I dressed with care, aware that I was representing House von Hasenberg tonight. With synthesizers able to turn out faux haute couture in a matter of hours, it became a status symbol to wear gowns made by hand, fashioned from real materials and not their synth equivalents, even though it was difficult to tell the two apart at a glance.
The strapless evening gown I chose was made of purple silk in a shade so dark it appeared black in all but the brightest light. The fitted bodice hugged my chest, while the full skirt hid my heels and made me appear taller. Dresses were the battle armor of choice for Consortium ladies, and this one promised to hold its own.
I swept my long hair up into a complicated twist and pinned it into place with the ease of long practice. My hair was naturally a mousy brown, a shade that did nothing for my fair complexion. I’d endlessly tinkered with the color over the years before settling on my current shade of light brown with subtle blond and red highlights.
Hair done, I considered my makeup options, waving through my presets. Each option overlaid my face in the mirror, showing me a real-time preview of the result, while the individual settings were displayed on the right. The current trend was for gem-encrusted everything—eyelids, brows, temples, and even eyelashes—though I didn’t know how anyone could stand it.
Luckily, being a von Hasenberg had its perks—I didn’t follow trends, I made them.
I picked a simple style of deeply lined, dark smoky eyes and natural lips. I altered the eye shadow color to hint at the purple in my dress. Even so, I’d look positively unadorned compared to most ladies tonight, which would make me stand out. I pressed the application button and closed my eyes. Two seconds later, a beep signaled I was done.
A final check in the mirror confirmed I was as ready as I was going to get. I picked up the clutch that held my blaster. It was an unwritten rule that you could bring weapons to a Consortium event as long as you did it discreetly. Showing up with a long gun slung over one shoulder would be gauche—and would probably get you barred from entry—but five hidden blasters? Totally cool.
I exited my suite to find Ian loitering in the hall outside my door. He straightened as I approached. He’d changed into a black tuxedo, and I had the sinking feeling that I wasn’t going to appreciate whatever he was about to say.
“Director Bishop, here to snipe at me again?” I asked.
His calm expression didn’t change. It was nearly impossible to bait the man when he wasn’t already in a fury, but that didn’t mean I ever stopped trying. He brought out the worst in me.
“I am here to escort you to House Chan’s ball,” he said.
“Where is Edward?” Edward was my normal evening guard. He was a nice young man with an easy attitude and a quick smile—so, basically, the opposite of the man in front of me.
“He is providing additional coverage for Lord Ferdinand tonight,” Ian said.
“Of course he is,” I muttered. Louder, I continued, “Very well, let’s get this over with.”
Ian offered me his elbow and butterflies took flight in my stomach. I sternly told them it didn’t mean anything, it was just a polite gesture—Edward did the same, usually with a wink and a flourish.
My hand still had the slightest tremble as I took Ian’s arm.
I schooled my expression and let him lead me to the waiting House transport. With the war, we were no longer allowed to take public transports. He helped me into the vehicle then followed and sat across from me. He leaned back and the shadows embraced him.
I glanced away before I became entranced by the play of light and dark across his cheekbones. The man was entirely too handsome for my peace of mind. I needed a distraction.
“Have there been active threats against the House here in Serenity?” I asked, meeting his eyes. “Is that why security is tighter tonight?” I hadn’t come across anything, but I’d been out of commission for most of the afternoon. If new info had come in today, I wouldn’t have seen it.
Ian stared hard at me, but I didn’t look away. Finally, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “No,” he said, “nothing credible. Just a feeling I can’t shake.”
I nodded. Ian had long since proven he had good instincts.
“Why do you accept a feeling without question but disregard an order made for your safety?”
I shrugged. “I trust your gut. If you had explained yourself this afternoon, I would’ve listened. I thought you were just being your normal paranoid self. Despite what you think, I am not stupid.”