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  Goddess, I thought deliriously. So fuckin’ beautiful—so fuckin right!

  And it did feel right. Even though I knew it was wrong and could never be between us, it felt righter than anything else in my whole life. Bringing Leah to the edge, tasting her sweet juices as she cried her pleasure and pulled me closer, calling my name—that was what I was meant to do. What I’d been made for—taking her to the peak and helping her learn to fly.

  I just wished I could soar with her and that we never had to come back down.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Location: Femme 1—also known as Majorah Prime, seat of the Goddess Empress Sundalla the 999th, Supreme Ruler of the galaxy—the Empress’s bedchamber.

  Time: Only moments before the Empress’s Ascendance to the Heavens.

  “You can go in now. She’s calling for you.”

  Captain Kristoff Verrai of the Empress’s Imperial Guard nodded at the attendant and entered the royal bedchamber. Inside he was greeted with imperial splendor, as befitted a ruler who was also worshipped as a deity.

  The walls were covered in pure, hammered gold, worked with intricate carvings and decorated with precious gems. The carpet was the softest tellah fur, pure white dotted with red and black spots and swirls. The bed itself was a massive affair—a thick, luxurious mattress piled high with gold brocade pillows embroidered with silver threads and covered in a matching duvet. It sat atop a raised dais, almost like a throne.

  Propped up in the center of all this splendor was a thin, pale figure—very white against the rich gleam of the pillows.

  It was the Goddess Empress herself, Sundalla the 999th—and she was dying.

  Kristoff came forward at a respectful pace, changing his own skin tone to match the golden tone of the room around him. It was a royal color—only those males who served in the Empress’s personal Imperial Guard were allowed to assume it. His eyes, as he climbed the dais, changed from plain brown to concentric rainbow rings, also to honor her rank. The Empress was the only female in the galaxy known to have a rainbow aura—the pure light of divinity and perfection surrounded her.

  Though only those who had the Vision could see it.

  Kristoff had the Vision—it had come to him at an early age. He had been only five when his mother—a noblewoman of Majorah Delta—had brought him along to court. During the royal procession when the Empress passed by, he had cried out in wonder,

  “Muhmuh—look! A rainbow! The Empress has a pet rainbow!”

  The Empress had heard and stopped the entire procession. Turning, she came back to where Kristoff and his mother were standing.

  “Who speaks of our aura?” she demanded, an imperious look on her beautiful face.

  “My Lady Goddess,” Kristoff’s mother gasped, dropping into a low, frightened curtsy. “Oh, please forgive my son! Kristoff is only five cycles old and he sometimes speaks out of turn.”

  “No, my good woman—do not fear.”

  The Goddess Empress had crouched before Kristoff, who looked at her wonderingly. She was beautiful—divinely beautiful with long golden hair, unlike the blue-black shade of most Majorans, and sharp green eyes the color of emeralds which seemed to see into his very soul.

  “Now then—Kristoff, is it?” she asked softly, looking at him.

  “Yes,” Kristoff said. And then, when his mother nudged him sharply he added, “MyLadyGoddess,” in a breathless rush.

  “Kristoff,” the Empress said. “Look at me and tell me what you see.”

  Kristoff looked up at her, drinking in her divine beauty. It filled his small heart to overflowing.

  “A rainbow,” he whispered, reaching up one hand to describe an arc around her golden hair. “Here…all around you. Is it your pet?”

  The Empress smiled.

  “In a way, I suppose. And can you see it that clearly?”

  “It’s beautiful,” Kristoff breathed. “Like you, my Lady Goddess.”

  “Well now—so young and already a flatterer.” The Empress had laughed and straightened. Then she spoke to Kristoff’s mother. “Your son has a rare talent, my dear. When he is of age, I will need him here at court. He is to be mine and mine alone. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, my Lady Goddess. Thank you my Lady Goddess,” Kristoff’s mother breathed.

  “Very good.” The Empress had nodded and then leaned down. She pressed a cool kiss to Kristoff’s forehead. “Farewell for now, little one,” she murmured. “I will see you later when you come to claim your place in court.”

  And so she had.

  As he climbed the dais to reach the massive, golden sleeping platform, Kristoff recalled his many years in service to the Empress. He had come to the palace as a young warrior and presented himself to be taken into service. But though he had a place waiting for him at the word of the Empress herself, the training for an Imperial Guard was not easy.

  There were long days and sleepless nights—stretches of endurance training without food or water or comfort of any kind. There were lessons on covert operations and the art of intrigue for a Guard must be subtle as well as deadly to protect his royal mistress’ life.

  There was training with the sword, the blaster, the dagger, and every other weapon until he was a weapon himself—a deadly blade to be wielded only by the Empress.

  Later, there were missions where his hands were drenched in the blood of her enemies—for an Empress, even a universally loved and worshipped one—always had those who wanted her dead and the Majoran court was a dangerous place—rife with lies and intrigue.

  Through it all, the memory of that one cool kiss on his forehead carried Kristoff through.

  Sometimes he thought he had always loved her—from that first moment at the age of five when he saw the beautiful rainbow aura surrounding her perfect face. From that moment when she kissed him and claimed him as hers. Though she was fifty cycles his senior and his love took the form of devotion rather than physical expression, still it was love of the deepest kind.

  Unswerving Loyalty, Unquestioning Devotion, Unremitting Obedience—it was the code and the credo of the Imperial Guard. And to that, Kristoff added, Unending Love.

  And now the female he had devoted his life to was dying.

  He finished climbing the dais and bowed deeply to the withered figure in the middle of the bed. Her hair and skin were nearly pure white now but her rainbow aura remained, stronger than ever. It was a shining halo all around her head that only his eyes could see.

  “Oh, don’t bow that way, Kristoff.” The Empress’s voice still sounded young somehow. Impatient even—as though she was beckoning him to hurry up because they were going to be late for court or some royal appearance.

  “My Lady.” Kristoff rose from his deep bow and sat on the side of the bed. “How are you, today?”

  “Well enough. I…” Her words were interrupted by a coughing fit. One of the trained nurses came forward but Kristoff waved her away. Quickly, he found the bulb of nutrient fluid which nourished the Empress in her fragile state. Propping her gently up with one arm, he squeezed some of the sweet liquid into her mouth.

  The Empress drank gratefully and then breathed deeply.

  “Ah…thank you, Kristoff.”

  “You are ever welcome, my Lady.” Gently, he eased her back down to the pillows and brushed a shining strand of pure white hair from her eyes before sitting back to regard her. “So you were saying? You feel well?”

  “I feel fine,” she insisted, her faded green eyes snapping with some of their old fire. “But the Council doesn’t seem to think I am. They’ve had me moved into this dusty mausoleum of a room when they know I prefer my other sleeping quarters.”

  Kristoff knew what she meant. This grand bedchamber was only for show. There was a small, snug chamber behind it with a natural gilla-grass carpet and a bed that was just large enough for two which the Empress had shared with her Consort for many years before he passed to the other side.

  Kris