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else, it would get her away from Tyre and back into deep space. The prospect of death hadn’t bothered her since she’d nearly been killed on her first cruise. Being captured, she suspected, would be far worse. The Theocracy wouldn’t hesitate to kill her as unpleasantly as possible, then bombard the datanets with recordings of her final moments. “It will be my honor.”
    “You will receive formal orders tomorrow,” the grand admiral said. “Until then, I suggest you remain in your mansion, away from the media. Publicly, you will have been sent to Hammersmith to assist in developing war-winning strategies. It will look like a punishment, I believe, to Deveron and his ilk.”
    “Thank you, sir,” Kat said.
    “You may return to your home now,” the prime minister said. “Duke Falcone, if you would care to remain . . . ? ”
    “ Of course,” Kat’s father said.
    Kat nodded, then rose to her feet and saluted, formally, to the table. The king winked at her while the prime minister and the Leader of the Opposition merely nodded back as Kat turned and walked out of the room. An equerry met her as soon as the door closed and beckoned her to follow him into a smaller waiting room. Kat glanced around in surprise, then tensed automatically. It felt very much like a trap . . .
    “Captain Falcone,” King Hadrian said as he entered through another door. “It’s a pleasure to talk with you in private, at last.”
    “Thank you, Your Majesty,” Kat said. Up close, the king looked surprisingly normal, but there was an inner stubbornness that reminded her of herself. His short dark hair topped an angular face that was both handsome and charismatic, although she had the feeling he had yet to grow into his looks. The smile he gave her was both warm and rakish. “And thank you . . . thank you for earlier.”
    “The politicians are often too concerned with playing politics to realize where the true interests of the kingdom lie,” the king said. He looked her up and down once, then smiled again. “Please, relax and have a seat. I don’t bite.”
    Kat forced herself to sit down in one of the comfortable chairs. The king was both part of the aristocracy and above them, one of the few who could and would call out aristocrats for bad behavior. His position, as long as he enjoyed the support of the dukes, was almost untouchable, granting him vast power over the Commonwealth. And yet, there were strong limits to what he could do. Some of her father’s enemies would not be amused at how he’d saved her from the consequences of not thinking before she spoke.
    She cleared her throat, feeling like a little girl. “Aren’t you meant to be in the meeting, Your Majesty? ”
    “ It’s mainly boring details concerning war production,” King Hadrian said. He waved a hand, dismissively, then sat down facing her. “Not that they’re not important, of course, but I cannot afford to get bogged down in the little details. I have to concentrate on the bigger picture.”
    He smiled at her again. “And the bigger picture suggests that beaching you for telling a particularly annoying halfwit to go bugger himself isn’t a good idea.”
    “I didn’t tell him to go bugger himself,” Kat protested.
    The king affected surprise. “Really? I was watching the morning news and it said that you slapped him across the face, breaking his jaw.”
    Kat groaned. “I didn’t even touch him! ”
    “ Stories do have a habit of growing in the telling,” the king said. “And . . . well, a halfwit like him has enemies. They can indulge their fantasies of someone beating the crap out of him, safe in the knowledge that any actual court case will prove your innocence.”
    “I should sue for libel,” Kat muttered.
    The king smirked. “Is someone claiming you thumped him actually libel ? ”
    He shrugged. “Not that it matters, in the end,” he added. “The bigger picture says that the Commonwealth needs you doing what you do best, out on