Hellhole by Brian Herbert, Kevin J. Anderson

the Diadem’s daughter were not exactly time-consuming – dedicating the occasional government building, opening orphanages, attending charity functions, cutting ribbons on new museums, making appearances at children’s hospitals, or christening stringline ships. It only amounted to a few hours or days here and there, so she had plenty of time to muse about the noble bloodlines and entanglements in the Duchenet family tree. She was required to do little else.
    Keana had chafed for years at the limitations and expectations placed on her. A wasted life! She had felt sorry for herself and very much alone until two years ago, when she’d found Louis de Carre. After that, her life was filled with love and excitement, colors, possibilities. She was so tired of playing by the rules!
    In the whirlwind of their passion, Keana and her exuberant lover barely paid lip service to keeping their affair a secret. If her own husband didn’t mind, and she had no political career anyway, why should Keana bother with the effort?
    A tall, shapely woman, she was in her prime and quite pretty, with a young face, dark blue eyes, and shoulder-length auburn hair. Her handmaidens and advisers claimed she was beautiful enough not to need makeup, though her nitpicking mother (who spent more than an hour being “prepared” for each of her public appearances) disagreed. Diadem Michella had something critical to say on virtually every subject.
    As the ruler’s only child, Keana had grown up on the royal estate, destined to be a showpiece, not qualified for any position of political significance. When Diadem Michella retired or died, Keana would be given a stipend and an estate, and she would finish out her life in quiet ennui. By law, no Duchenet could become Diadem again for at least another generation.
    As a little girl, Keana had come to the Cottage often, riding in an old carriage drawn by a team of gaxen, a species of draft animal unique to Sonjeera. At the serene pond’s edge, she would listen as the carriage drivers told tales of intrigue and death. One of Aria Ongenet’s lovers, a nobleman half her age, was said to have thrown himself into the churning wheel of the nearby water mill, because she refused to divorce her husband and marry him. Keana thought that a passion so profound should have overcome the hurdle of a loveless marriage. Now, with sweet Louis, she comprehended true love.
    More than a decade ago, her mother’s political machinations had forced Keana to marry Lord Bolton Crais, a dithering and lackluster nobleman from an influential family. She considered the man dull in the extreme, though sweet enough in his own way. Bolton had some military and administrative abilities, having served as a logistics officer in the war against General Adolphus. He hadn’t particularly wanted to marry her either, or anyone else, but he did as his family asked. Bolton was never cruel to her, never unpleasant, probably not even unfaithful; in fact, he wasn’t much of anything . And Keana didn’t love him.
    Louis was quite different. Though almost twenty years older than she was, the widowed Vielinger nobleman had a full head of black hair and did not look or act his actual age. A charming, witty man of extensive education, Louis always managed to surprise Keana with his kindness, his humor, his tenderness.
    With Louis, at least, she felt important. During his frequent visits to Sonjeera, supposedly on business, Keana would set up an assignation at the Cottage. Their relationship gave her the excitement she craved, a taste of true passion instead of dutiful inter-family alliances. She felt alive for the first time, and Louis actually discussed things with Keana – revealing to her an entire universe beyond Sonjeera . . .
    At the Cottage, a series of small pools of varying geometric shapes formed a decorative necklace around the inside courtyard and central pool. Short tunnels connected the pools, allowing swimmers to dive into one and emerge