Risteard’s Unwilling Empress

  Ristéard’s Unwilling Empress:

  Lords of Kassis Book 4

  By S. E. Smith

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank my husband Steve for believing in me and being proud enough of me to give me the courage to follow my dream. I would also like to give a special thank you to my sister and best friend, Linda, who not only encouraged me to write, but who also read the manuscript. Also to my other friends who believe in me: Julie, Jackie, Lisa, Sally, Elizabeth (Beth) and Narelle. The girls that keep me going!

  —S. E. Smith

  Science Fiction Romance

  Ristéard's Unwilling Empress: Lords of Kassis Book 4

  Copyright © 2015 by S.E. Smith

  First E-Book Published February 2015

  Cover Design by Melody Simmons

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission from the author.

  All characters, places, and events in this book are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations are strictly coincidental.

  Synopsis

  Ristéard Roald is the powerful and deadly ruler of Elpidios, a planet that is slowly dying without the Blood Stones needed to absorb the radiation gradually destroying its stratosphere. He has sworn to do whatever it takes to protect his world and his people, but time is running out.

  Hope comes from an unexpected source, the Kassis. They have found a way to replicate the Blood Stones needed to save his world, but his first dealings with a traitorous Kassisan has left a deep distrust for the species.

  Ricki Bailey is used to dealing with diplomats and handling complex situations. After all, as the daughter of the owners of Cirque de Magik, the most spectacular Circus to the Stars, she is used to organizing their trips to foreign countries. Her life changes when her mother and father decide to take the circus to the real stars… and to another star system!

  If she thought learning new laws and customs was going to be a challenge, it was nothing to the sudden interest she was getting from a huge blue male known as the Grand Ruler! Ricki discovers words that she didn’t even realize were in her vocabulary, most of them not in the least polite.

  She decides the best way to deal with the arrogant male is to treat him like she did when encountering difficult Consuls during the circus’ travels on Earth; stay cool, calm, and professional and only deal with

  the facts necessary to complete whatever business transaction was required.

  Ristéard is stunned when a strange, alien female, foretold in the ancient tablets as being the great Empress who will save his world, appears. He is even more astonished when she refuses his attentions! With the life of his planet at stake, not to mention his own peace of mind and body, he will do whatever is necessary to ensure the female stays by his side.

  Yet, there are forces working against him and Ricki, powerful forces that do not want him to be successful. Dangers and traitors among his own council threaten not only him, but her. It will take all of Ristéard's resources, and a few unexpected allies, to complete the dangerous journey ahead of them.

  Can he keep his unwilling Empress safe from those that would destroy her? Better yet, can he save his world when there are those that would destroy it for the treasure of precious Blood Stones hidden somewhere beneath its surface?

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  About S. E. Smith

  Chapter 1

  Earth: Twenty-four years before.

  The figure dressed in black slipped around the darkened trailer that was attached to the large truck. He held the parcel tightly against his chest, as if afraid that it might disappear. He paused when he heard the sound of a cough coming from the large tent followed by several voices. The bundle in his arms moved slightly, jerking his attention back to his mission.

  He didn’t have much time. Stepping up to the trailer, he gently laid the tightly wrapped bundle on the step. For a brief moment, his hand hovered over the pale cheek. Sorrow and regret pulled at him, two foreign emotions that he had never felt before.

  “Be safe, my daughter, I will come for you when you are older if I can,” the soothing deep voice whispered in a strange dialect.

  His vivid blue eyes darkened with sadness as he pulled an envelope from his shirt and tucked it in the blanket before straightening. He stepped back into the shadows of the trailer when the sound of the voices grew closer. It would be dawn soon and he needed to leave before it became light enough for him to be seen by the figures beginning to move around the clustered group of motorhomes.

  He had just stepped behind the side of the trailer when he heard the door to it open. A slow, startled gasp followed by a hushed cry swept through the air. Leaning back, he waited to see if he had made the right decision.

  “Walter!” The sound of a woman called out. “Walter, come here!”

  “What is it, Nema?” The deep voice of the man called Walter asked.

  In his mind, he could almost see what the woman had discovered. The same pale, delicate skin, the same vivid golden hair, and the promise of his own blue eyes, the only thing that his daughter had inherited from him that was obvious. Clenching his fists, he forced his body to remain still, silent, as he waited to see if they would accept the precious gift he had laid at their door.

  “It’s a baby,” Nema whispered, her voice full of tears. “Isn’t she beautiful, Walter?”

  “Now, Nema,” Walter started to say before his voice faded. “What’s this?”

  The faint beam of a light came on followed by the whisper of paper. For a moment, only the faint sounds of a dog barking in the distance and the low-pitch croaking of frogs from a nearby pond broke the silence.

  “What does it say?” Nema quietly asked.

  “Please keep our daughter safe,” Walter murmured. “She needs a loving home where she can be accepted for who she is. Her name is Ricki. I give my heart to you to hold and protect… Please, care for her as if she was your own.”

  “Oh, Walter,” Nema sniffed. “She’s beautiful, we have a daughter, a beautiful daughter of our own.”

  “Nema…,” Walter started to say before he stopped with a sigh. “She is beautiful, just like you. We’re leaving in just a couple of hours.”

  “We aren’t going to…,” Nema whispered hesitantly as she gazed down at the sleeping infant in her arms.

  “No, I know of an attorney who can take care of the paperwork,” Walter replied in a gruff voice.

  “Ricki,” Nema said tenderly. “Ricki Rose Bailey.”

  “Nema,” Walter said.

  “Rose wouldn’t mind,” Nema replied. “She would have loved having a baby sister named after her. I know she is looking down on her now and smiling with pride.”

  “Ricki Rose is a beautiful name,” Walter replied in a tight voice as he thought of the beautiful daughter that they had lost a year ago at bir
th. He had come close to losing Nema as well. She had to have emergency surgery to prevent her from bleeding to death. As a result, they would never have the child that they had dreamed of. His fingers trembled as he hesitantly reached out to touch the sleeping infant’s cheek. When he looked up, he saw the hope, fear, and tears in his beloved wife’s eyes. “Just as beautiful as you are, Nema. I love you.”

  Nema looked up and smiled. “I love you, too, Walter,” she whispered before she tsked. “Can you see if Mary has any formula? I need to get the things we had for Rose out. Oh, Walter, we have a little girl!”

  Walter gazed up at Nema’s tiny figure. At barely over three and a half feet tall, she looked more than a child from the back. He appeared to tower over her at four feet one inch. A sigh escaped him as he thought of the two boxes hidden in the back of their bedroom closet. She had refused to let him give the baby gifts away, saying she wasn’t ready to let go. He knew she hoped they would one day adopt a baby, but he had doubts that any judge would allow them to.

  It wasn’t because of the fact they were both dwarves, but because of their life style. As owners of the Cirque de Magik, a small, but unique circus filled with unique characters from around the world, they were constantly on the move. He had taken every bit of money he had inherited and earned during his own life as a member of the circus to buy this show from its previous owners in the hope of making it one of the best shows ever seen.

  A slow smile lit his face when he heard Nema singing softly. “I’m a father,” he chuckled. “We have a daughter.”

  *.*.*

  The figure standing in the shadows moved silently away as the door closed. The tightness in his chest eased slightly as he strode away from the roadside show he had discovered earlier. He had spent most of the day listening and watching from a distance. Deep down, he knew that this was the most promising place for keeping his daughter safe from those that would kill her like they had her mother.

  He paused for just a brief moment to look at the strange collection of tents, trailers, and carnival sideshow exhibits one last time before he turned. Where he was going was no place for an infant. He did not see the two men studying him as he disappeared into the early morning mist.

  Chapter 2

  Ristèard touched the Blood seeping from the cut along his cheek with the back of his left hand. His eyes narrowed on the two men and one woman that were circling him. Shifting the blade in his right hand, he pressed the button hidden in the handle.

  His left hand dropped, catching the second blade as it separated from the first. Swirling around when the woman snarled at him and stepped forward, he sliced the blade in his left hand across her neck before continuing the circle to run the blade in his right hand across the upper thigh of one of the males.

  Satisfaction coursed through him when the male dropped to the ground as he sliced through muscle, tendons, and veins. The male grabbed at his leg in a desperate bid to stem the Blood pouring from the gaping wound. Ristèard knew the strike had cut through the femoral artery and the assassin would bleed to death in minutes without immediate medical attention.

  “Who sent you?” Ristèard demanded as he circled the other assassin.

  The male just shook his head and grinned, never taking his eyes off of him. He jerked back, blocking the blow when the man thrust his arm outward. A low curse escaped him when the blade of the sword suddenly extended and cut a long, shallow line along his neck.

  Cold fury burned through his veins before a chilly calm settled over him. He would wipe the smug grin off the bastard’s face. Stepping back, he slid the short, thin blade in his left hand into a sheath at his waist. Rotating the blade in his right hand, he countered another thrust as he stepped to the side.

  “I will get the answers I want and when I am done, you will wish you had been the first one to die instead of your comrades,” Ristèard said in a voice devoid of emotion.

  “You’ll be the one dead, Grand Ruler,” the male hissed as he circled to Ristèard’s right. “You should have kept both blades, you might have had a chance.”

  “Who says I didn’t,” Ristèard murmured with satisfaction.

  He swung the weapon in his hand in an arc in front of him. His finger slid over the second button on the handle, releasing dozens of tiny blades tipped with a slow activating poison. The weapon was one of his own inventions and had saved his life many times in the past.

  Surprise lit the face of the other male as the deadly missiles pierced his chest, arms, and stomach. Ristèard knew he would have just a short time to extract the information he wanted before the male died. He had learned from his grandfather’s murder that it was best to eliminate the threat as quickly as possible. His grandfather had died trying to get information out of one of the men that had come to kill him.

  The loud clatter of the sword echoed through the long, dark corridor of the palace. He watched as the man sank down to his knees, his gaze glued to Ristèard’s cold silver eyes. The poison was already beginning to paralyze the assassin’s muscles.

  “I expected you to resist longer,” the man whispered hoarsely.

  “You expected wrong,” Ristèard replied, stepping forward. He tilted his head as he ran the tip of his blade along the man’s cheek where the woman had cut him. “Who sent you?”

  “I will never… tell… you,” the man hissed out.

  Ristèard shook his head. “Wrong answer,” he said coldly, striking the man and knocking him onto his side on the floor. “I will have the answers to my questions before I let you die.”

  His eyes flickered to the door that glowed brightly before collapsing inward. Three of his four personal guards, each one carefully selected by him, briefly stood in the entrance surveying the room before stepping inside. Each of them were covered in Blood, some of it their own, most of it from whomever they had fought.

  They had returned to Elpidios only to discover a trap had been set for them. He expected no less. He knew there were members of the council who thought he was not doing enough to save their world. The fact that the bastards were the reason it was dying was a moot point.

  “Ristèard,” Andras called as he, Emyr, and Sadao moved cautiously forward.

  “Where is Harald?” Ristèard asked, turning his attention back to the dying man beginning to wither in front of him as the poison slowly moved through his body.

  “Playing with his assassin,” Emyr replied, glancing at the male on the floor before studying the other two dead assassins. “It looks like there were nine of them this time.”

  “Find Harald,” Ristèard ordered, turning his attention back to his attacker. “I will meet you in my office once I’m done here.”

  Andras raised his hand and the other two men nodded. A faint smile curved Ristèard’s lips. He knew that Andras would not leave him alone again. Bending down, he rolled the withering figure onto his back.

  “Now, you will tell me what you know,” he said, raising his blade.

  *.*.*

  Two hours later, Ristèard stood looking out the window of his office. The shields were holding over the planet, but barely. Soon, massive evacuations of the cities would be necessary and the secondary shields would have to be activated to protect only them.

  The Blood crystals he had returned with would temporarily help his world, but they needed more, much more, if it was to survive. His species could handle a greater amount of radiation than most, but even they could not survive if the levels increased much more. A knock on his office door drew his attention away from the muted sunlight shining through the tinted windows.

  “Enter,” he ordered, turning to face the door.

  His hand relaxed on the blade at his side when he saw Andras at the door. He nodded and turned back to study the city below him. Life moved on as if there was no concern that it could all end tomorrow.

  The image of a delicate face suddenly formed in his mind. The face of a woman with hair the color of the sun, eyes the color of new born babe on Elipdios, and skin the co
lor of the night flowers that only bloomed on the double full moons. Was the prophecy true? Was she the one who would save his world? If so, how? How could a woman, especially an alien from another world, save it when she knew nothing about them?

  Andras silently walked across the room to stand next to him. For a moment, neither of them said anything as they looked down on the city. They had brought back a brief reprieve. The crystals the Kassians replicated worked, but they were smaller and weaker than the ones once found in plentiful abundance on the surface of the planet.

  Andras sighed heavily before he spoke. “The assassin Harald was after had no new information. All Harald was able to get from the male before he died was that the new leader would emerge on the anniversary of Elipdios Rising, an event that happened only once every two thousand years. It was a time when the third moon moved out of the shadow of its larger siblings and shone full. That is the same thing each of them has said over the past two years,” he stated. “I fear we are no closer to finding out who is behind the attacks now, than we were before your father’s death. I say we kill all the council members and be done with it.”

  An amused smile curved Ristèard’s lips at Andras’ comment. “You are beginning to sound like me,” he responded.

  “Our world is dying,” Andras murmured, staring down at the movement of people far below. “Even with the Kassisan’s help, there is no way to produce enough to keep the shields active for any length of time. Already, there are parts of the planet that are becoming uninhabitable. It would be better to start the evacuation.”

  “And what, seal ourselves below ground so we die a slower death?” Ristèard asked harshly. “No, there is one other option.”

  Andras looked at Ristèard in surprise. “What option? Do the Kassisans have more crystals they would give us?” He asked with a puzzled frown.

  “No, they supposedly have something far more valuable,” Ristèard replied, turning away from the window and walking over to his desk.