Now Will Machines Hollow the Beast Benjanun Sriduangkaew (love story books to read .TXT) 📖

opposite, as far as her personal goals go. But it’d leave the auction in shambles, the entire affair in chaos, and in the end she’d rather Nirupa lives to see what she will do to Vishnu’s Leviathan. The difference between momentary gratification and satisfaction that she can savor for decades to come.

Anoushka lifts her gun, aims, fires. The distance is short enough that she doesn’t require assistive targeting, and the bullet lodges cleanly in the back of the person’s skull, metal against medulla oblongata.

Shouts of Your Majesty! What passes for security surrounds her table as she holsters her sidearm. Xuejiao remains on the floor, tensing against Anoushka’s knee, muscles coiled.

Anoushka regards the queen’s bodyguards with remote contempt. They are flushed with adrenaline, too excited, lacking the poise that comes with having confronted their mortality and won. These are soldiers who have never faced anything that can fight back. “Search the servant’s body,” she says, in a voice pitched for volume, for command.

Two of the security officers kneel over the downed assassin. The body is turned over and examined. Several weapons: knives, several syringes, dermal patches that likely contain contact toxins. Primitive tools, but they would have worked if they’ve been tailored to bypass whatever somatic immunity Nirupa enjoys—and it would have been tailored that way; this assassin was not sent by someone who didn’t do their research.

Nirupa stands inanimate, her face blank and frictionless as porcelain. Her daughters, both several tables away, hold their breath.

The queen turns to the hall at large. “I’m sorry for this interruption, my esteemed guests. We’ll remove this mess at once. Those who wish to continue their repast, my personnel will guide you to another hall. Once more, my most sincere apologies.”

“This is only a formality, Admiral,” Savita says.

Back in the suite: all parties have been confined to their accommodation while Vishnu’s Leviathan security conducts searches of luggage, ships, and shuttles. Likely interrogation as well, though Anoushka expects she is receiving a more genteel version. Xuejiao was questioned separately by the second princess Rajathi, who quickly gave up and returned the lieutenant to Anoushka. Xuejiao now rests on the floor, head lolling against Anoushka’s thigh.

“Understandable.” Anoushka keeps her voice precisely tuned: neutral and smooth, untouched by interest. Occasionally she reaches to stroke her lieutenant’s hair. Each time Savita’s eyes follow the motion, tracking her hand, its passage across Xuejiao’s head. “Does the queen suffer from assassination attempts often?”

The princess smiles but the expression is like Anoushka’s voice, giving nothing away. “She is beloved by our people. Outsiders are a different matter. But it was vilely done, certainly. Could you tell me again how you spotted the assassin? None of us saw it coming.”

The real reason is of course that Savita—or her sister, or her mother—doesn’t observe the fine details of how a servant conducts themselves. To them that is beneath notice. “Soldier’s intuition,” is all Anoushka says. “I’ve been on the field for a very long time. Longer than you have been alive, I expect.”

At this Savita laughs, the note climbing high. “It’s true that I am young, Admiral, but I’m not foolish. I wanted to see if I could learn a thing or two from you—your acumen is renowned. I’m not even really questioning you. Whoever responsible possesses the wherewithal to copy our servants’ phenotype, but I imagine if you were behind it, the assassin would have slipped through and then departed without a trace. So by process of elimination, I do not suspect you at all.”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to not make them clones? Exactly to prevent this.” Anoushka cups Xuejiao’s jawline and runs her thumb over the lieutenant’s mouth. Obligingly her wife makes small, mewling noises.

Savita’s smile falters. Her gaze veers to Xuejiao, heavy with distraction and something else. “Tradition dictates that choice, I fear, and a little religion. Once the house arrest lifts for everybody, would you like a tour of the premises? I maintain a modest gallery, my sister keeps beautiful cats, and there’s a jungle on the recreation deck.”

A deck that has presumably gone unscathed by the sabotage. She would rather take a look at the damaged areas, but she doubts the princess or the queen will give her access. “I should be most pleased to join you as soon as I’ve attended to my pet. She needs to be a little more presentable. Would meeting in thirty minutes do?”

No one has made Savita wait before. The princess opens her mouth and quickly shuts it: torn between pride and the need to appease an important guest who saved her mother, and whom the queen is hoping to court for future endeavors. “As you wish, Admiral. A servant will be along to direct you to the deck. The leviathan can be tricky to navigate.”

Xuejiao nods at the suite’s master door once Savita is out of sight and earshot. “Her sister really doesn’t like her.”

“Rajathi?”

“Yes. Very angry woman, I did my level best to pretend I had no brain and it vexed her asking me questions. Absolutely she’d have hit me if she weren’t scared of what you’d do in retaliation. She thinks she’s a much better fit for the throne than her sister—I take it Queen Nirupa goes by order of birth. I’m surprised Rajathi hasn’t tried to eliminate the elder one yet.” The lieutenant pushes herself onto the chair, kicks off her slippers, and daintily stretches her leg across Anoushka’s thighs. “Since she can’t pull off murder, Rajathi is angling for Savita’s fall from grace. She mentioned in passing to her attendant that Savita is rather infatuated with you—celebrity worship, you understand. That part I can believe. Women across the galaxies would commit a little familicide if it secures a moment of your attention.”

“Is that so? I haven’t noticed.” Anoushka slides her hand under her wife’s skirt. Its dawn colors quiver across the fabric in response. “Do you believe we’ve stepped into royal intrigue and one of them could be suborned to our use?”

A long, appreciative murmur. “Mm.