Broken Glass (Glass Complex Book 1) by John Hindmarsh

Steg could see cameras monitoring overall progress and relaxed when a guard waved him though after a brief consultation and validation process. As the crowd, a mixture of humans and aliens, chattered their way forward and into the reception hall, Steg was relieved to see the style and color of his attire was not outstanding amongst his fellow guests. He soon found a drink and moved to explore the huge room and its displays of art treasures before seeking out his target.
    “Sir, your invitation please.”
    The request broke his concentration. The Imperial Security Officer—a captain—was polite yet firm and his elaborate ceremonial uniform did not disguise his trained toughness. Steg patted his jacket pockets and produced his invitation and identity papers. These were carefully scrutinized and returned. “Thank you, sir. I have been instructed to ask you to proceed directly through the reception hall to room five in the Library wing.”
    Steg hid his surprise and consternation. “Perhaps you could direct me?”
    “Sir, rather than give you directions, I will accompany you.”
    He followed the Imperial Security captain and grew more concerned as he observed a number of heads turning to watch his progress across the huge reception hall. Well, he thought, this is surely one way to not keep a low profile, following a ceremonially dressed officer across a crowded room, through a gathering of some five hundred guests. At least he was dressed for the occasion.
    The captain led him out of the crowd and along a long wide corridor. Heavy carpet muffled their passing. The corridor was softly lit and small spotlights drew his attention to numerous paintings and other small works of art displayed along the walls. Under different circumstances he would have stopped to examine them but the captain did not slacken his pace and Steg was unable to catch more than tempting and transitory glimpses. For a brief moment he was reminded of Castlehome, of the small but valuable collection that adorned the main hall of the Castle. Eventually the officer halted outside a paneled and carved door. He knocked and opened it, motioning Steg forward. “Please enter, sir. I’ll leave you now.”
    Steg obeyed the instruction and stepped into the room. The lights were very low and as he stopped to allow his eyes to adjust he heard the door click shut behind him. The far wall was ceiling to floor glass and he moved across the room and gazed out at the evening stars, so different to those visible on his home world, twinkling in their velvet setting. The external scene blanked out as the lights suddenly brightened.
    “My lord, it does not charm a girl to be ignored in preference to the evening sky.”
    This time Steg could not hide his start of surprise. He turned. “Ma’am?”
    “Miss.”
    The response was simple and assured. Steg looked closely at the speaker. She was most attractive, he thought, perhaps the most attractive young woman he had ever seen. Not beautiful, he decided, but definitively attractive. Her eyes were green and held a sparkle of humor. She was dressed in a deep red gown that touched the floor. Her jewelry matched her eyes. She turned the lights to a lower setting.
    Steg bowed politely. “Miss. What can I do for you?”
    “I think you should ask rather what I can do for you, Steg de Coeur?”
    Steg kept his expression blank, hiding the sudden shock that her words generated. “Steg de Coeur?” he queried.
    “Yes, my lord,” she smiled triumphantly. “I think your presence here is a little foolhardy. If I could find you, Imperial Security—the Imps—won’t be far behind. We must leave now, before they arrive.”
    “Leave? Oh no, miss. I have a finely engraved genuine invitation to attend this grand display and I have no reason or desire to depart early.”
    “You may not realize—the Imps have a full description of you, Steg de Coeur, and they say you are an outlaw. So all they need do is check as I did. I simply ran a