how uncomfortable she made him, she found it difficult not to laugh out loud. This was going to be so easy. The poor man was embarrassed.
Sartha came toward him, smiling in welcome, presenting her hand. “Hello, gentlemen. I am the Lady Sartha Chayton, Queen of Delian.”
Captain Forseth removed his cap, placing it under his arm. He took her hand, bowed with due ceremony and said in a low voice, “Your Majesty
“Please, Captain,” she said, “we can dispense with formality. You may address me as Lady Sartha.”
He nodded stiffly. “Pleased to meet you, Lady Sartha. I’m Captain Larren Forseth, and these are my officers, Mathes and Keorta.”
Sartha politely inclined her head.
The Captain turned away from her then, and appeared to inspect
Assurance’s
lounge and servery. The Needle-Class vessel’s living spaces were small, as they had been originally fitted out as fighting vessels. This one had been converted. The galley was generously laid out with more lavish design. Sartha thought it likely that Captain Forseth was not really looking at the interior of
Assurance.
He was probably taking a moment to gather his wits.
Forseth swung to face her, cleared his throat and said with a touch of humor in his voice, “Unless my senses deceive me, Lady, I detect the unique aroma of freshly brewed coffee.”
Sartha smiled and nodded graciously. “It is indeed, Captain.” Gesturing toward the dining area she added, “Would you and your men care to join me for a drink? Or perhaps you want something stronger?” Sartha knew Captain Forseth would never allow himself or his men to drink while on duty, but she decided that it wouldn’t hurt to test him. One of her eyebrows arched in question as she mischievously gestured to a bottle of Penatrale Umbra. Umbra was a potent liqueur, distilled from malted barley, cinnamon spices and cherries; it was a luxurious treat, considered a celebratory drink on Delian.
The Captain gave a low chuckle. “We’re honored to join you. Coffee only, I thank you.”
Sartha’s lips twitched. She wanted to laugh out loud with relief. Of course he wouldn’t drink on duty — not Captain Forseth. During the few minutes before the men came aboard, she had mind-touched the good Captain. Although brief, contact had been most satisfactory. Captain Forseth, she was pleased to discover, was a good man. His intentions were to help others. He had a strong sense of justice, and would never abuse his position. Oh, yes, she had nothing to fear from him.
“Please be seated,” she offered, and directed the men to the dining chairs.
Captain Forseth and Keorta sat down, but Mathes remained standing, with his back to the wall. Sartha looked at the officer quizzically, silently offering a chair, but the fellow remained unmoving. Vigilant, the man was preparing for an attack — protecting his Captain, no doubt. She didn’t press the subject. Instead she politely acted as though it was not unusual for one of her guests to stand near her dining table well-armed and intent.
Sartha poured out the coffee.
As the two men stirred in milk and cream and took their first sips, Sartha thought of Ash. He was safely hidden. She hated to leave him for so long without word, but it was for the best. While she was sure these men had nothing to do with the asphyxiating death of her people, it was best to trust no one. She was frightened that information might get back to Admiral Neopol and
Conqueror
. They could be searching for her even now. As she sat and prepared her own coffee, she gazed at the Freeworld patrolman.
Incredible as it seemed, she found herself drawn toward Captain Forseth. A kindred spirit, he shared some inner loss or grief. He had suffered the despair of failure. It was a shame that she hadn’t had enough time to discover more.
Strangely, Captain Forseth held a hard, rugged attraction. Patrol regalia suited him. He was tall — at least six four, broad shouldered, and lean. In his early 30s, he
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