He, at least, returned her cool demeanor and quickly terminated calls for them to display any affection in public.
As she waited for him at the top of legislature steps with her ever-present security detail, she frowned. Princesses were well guarded when it suited the men in power. Lana’s abduction had strengthened Brande’s resolve. She would fight for changes to Endricane’s laws.
When he finally emerged, Evston wore an oppressively black suit that he’d paired with an equally grim dark gray shirt.
“Dead realms,” she murmured, too low for anyone but him to hear. “Am I engaged to death’s watchman?”
“Not suited to me? Then we match. That color doesn’t suit you either.”
She glanced down at the yellowish-green frock. He was perfectly right, but she’d chosen it on purpose to annoy the broadcasters. “I think it’s lovely.”
“No, you don’t,” he said, offering her his arm, which she ignored. “Don’t test my patience, princess. Not today.”
“Why not today?” she asked. Despite herself, she was still constantly curious about his whereabouts and actions.
“Because my time on the floor was interrupted by an emergency call from the king’s undersecretary. He told me that my future wife had booked passage to Serlan, the island stronghold of Demme Professor Hela Strome. They assumed that I’d been the one to tell you about her.”
A slow smile spread over Brandese’s face. “That must have been awkward.”
His cool blue gaze slid to her face. “No one goes to Serlan without an invitation from Professor Strome. And getting beyond the military barricades at Curdell requires a clearance from someone of the highest rank.”
“Like a princess?”
“Like a commander of the armies. Or a member of the legislature. They assume we’d arranged your clearance to travel there. Did you forge my hologram?”
“No. Rocurt’s.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Why his?”
“Because, if caught, I have leverage to defuse his anger. His wife is my faithful friend. Also, he feels sorry for me right now. I’ve lost my sister in a heartless political maneuver.”
“How did you find out about the professor? All her works are banned.”
“I know. It’s practically treason to try to contact her now, since she’s living in exile these past eight years. I understand that’s since my father forced her from the legislature for her progressive and anti-royalist ideas.”
Evston’s com buzzed, and she listened in as Rocurt spoke.
“Bring your princess with you when you come back to the castle. She’s done something that we need to deal with.”
Evston’s blue gaze settled on her face. “I will. We were supposed to have a dinner, but I think we’ll skip that.”
“Good. I’ll wait on dinner too.”
Brandese raised her com to send a message to Melsint.
“It’s foolish to think she can protect you in this situation. You’ll end up getting her in trouble too.”
Brandese’s fingers froze. She erased the message and lowered her com. She wouldn’t risk creating real unrest in Melsint and Rocurt’s relationship. They had both been too good to her for that.
“You haven’t answered me about how you discovered where Professor Strome lives,” he said, with a hand pressing against her back to usher her to the glider platform.
“Nor will I answer that. How I choose to educate myself is my own business.” Her next words were in Professor Strome’s native language. “A man must read and understand all the viewpoints, even those against a sovereign, to be able to judge the merits of the teachings. And to mount a defense against anarchy if that’s what should be found within.”
His head jerked to stare at her because even though the words were spoken in Gernard as they’d been written, they weren’t Hela Strome’s. They were from a translated essay condemning the banning of her books. It had been written years earlier by a university student, one who’d since graduated and was now her husband-to-be.
“Her books are amazing. You were right to defend them, Ev.”
She slid into the glider compartment, and he took the cushioned bench opposite her.
