Queen of Stars by Dave Duncan

expected it, and even if he didn’t order Haedus’s death, this’ll surely put the idea in his head. If the queen’s ministers start dying in quick succession, the rest will flee. Starborn are just not built to withstand violence; it’s too foreign to their thinking. The ruler’s duties are amazingly light, but Talitha cannot govern alone. So I’m running out of time to rid the Starlands of Prince Vildiar.”
    “And me?” Avior asked. “Where do I fit into this bloodbath?”
    He evaded the question with a shrug. “You make your decision first, to stay or go home. There are no conditions on the offer. You can decide tomorrow or wait awhile. If you do stay, you might be able to help us—nothing risky or violent. The court tomorrow should be interesting. I’ll call for you when it’s time.”
    Perhaps he didn’t trust Halfling Tyl quite as much as he said he did. He had certainly not told her everything, far from it. But suddenly she was struggling to choke back a yawn.
    “’Scuse me,” she mumbled. “I think today has gone on quite long enough.”
    That was the signal to open the rutting season. Tyl brightened and gripped the arms of his chair, but Rigel was already on his feet.
    “All’s well that ends well. I’ll see you safely to your room.”

Chapter 8
     
    A fter all that champagne, Avior was disinclined to risk the journey by herself, for her door was now in the roof. She had not been offered a choice of companion, but she flashed Tyl a wink behind Rigel’s back to let him know that she’d still be interested in exploring orange body hair just as soon as she disposed of the beanpole American Express logo in sandwich wrap.
    Seemingly unaware, Rigel led the way. He was careful not to touch her, and the world duly rearranged itself around them. They arrived at her door without any embarrassing incidents such as her falling flat on her face. Overhead, the waiters were clearing the table they had just left and Tyl was in the pool again, floating on his back, staring down at her.
    “See you in court tomorrow,” Rigel said, smiling inside his absurd helmet. “It should be very educational.”
    “I have nothing else on my calendar.” She reached for the handle. “You don’t want to come in?”
    What she meant was, I need a man now, and you know you’re only a boy, don’t you? It might have been the champagne, or maybe it was the rum, but the words didn’t come out with quite the emphasis she’d intended, and Rigel beamed a huge smile.
    “Love to!”
    He advanced eagerly. She backed up. He closed the door while he still had his back to it and she heard the lock click, so perhaps he was not quite as unobservant as she’d believed.
    Now she had to deal with a blinding close-up of gleaming, pearly teeth, as Rigel waited politely for her to confirm what she had just implied. But his eyes were no longer white to match the teeth; they were all black iris, and bright as diamonds. He had his chest out, chin in, and his already flat abdomen was pulled in against his spine. Fists rested on his hips to display his arm muscles, and he was standing much closer to her than before. Possibly this was all unconscious, but she was an artist, an observer. Whether he knew it or not, Rigel Halfling’s body was announcing in fanfares that it was now available for DNA transfer.
    Where are you when we need you, Queen Talitha?
    So be it. Despite his schoolboy looks, he was a killer, no cherub. He could, presumably, hold his own. He’d shown an interesting streak of ruthlessness earlier, and a lesson in humility wouldn’t hurt him, if that was all he was going to get. She had to outweigh him by fifty pounds.
    “Just wanted to ask a personal question,” he said. “If you don’t mind. Why do you wear a wig?”
    Whatever she had expected, it wasn’t that. “I do mind.”
    “Oh. Sorry. Well, pleasant dreams, then. Mustn’t keep Tyl waiting.” He was actually blushing, and she could not remember when she had last