I heard that a group of the younger politicians in the popular assembly, headed by Prince Toron, had suggested to the king that he demand an apology from Queen Formis for the first abduction of the princess, and that he demand extradition of Yuri on the charge of attempting the second.
But King Kew was in a ticklish position, being the ruler of a subject race, and holding his position merely by grace of Formis, whom he hated, as she well knew. If he were to present any such demand as this, the least that he could expect would be an immediate counterdemand for my surrender. Formis might demand his abdication in favor of Yuri. Even war might result, which the Cupians were unarmed to resist. This would mean tons of explosives dropped upon Kuana from Formian airplanes, thousands of Cupians ground between fierce mandibles, and then another treaty more degrading even than that of Mooni.
So King Kew resorted to diplomacy, rather than to ultimatums; and finally reached a tacit understanding, whereby Queen Formis disclaimed responsibility for the kidnaping and made a gift to the Princess Lilla, and whereby Prince Yuri was permitted to remain undisturbed in Formia, and I in Cupia.
Upon the consummation of the agreement between the two countries, I was let out of prison and conducted to the royal palace, where I was received in honor by the king and princess. The palace was one of the monumental white buildings on the brow of the hill around which the city of Kuana is built, the rest of the group being the university.
Lilla greeted me cordially as an old friend; but of course in the presence of the king neither of us dared show any stronger sentiments.
King Kew patted me warmly on the cheek.
“Well done, Myles Cabot!” he declared. “We welcome to Kuana the scientist of Minos. Formis, by her treachery, has lost your great abilities, and Cupia is the gainer thereby. The old hag may gnash her mandibles in vain, but—”
“Father, father,” the princess interjected remonstratingly, “do be careful! Remember that you occupy your throne merely by the grace of the conquerors.”
“And by the disgrace of my ancestors,” he added grimacing.
“But father,” she continued, “‘walls have antennae.’ Even now, word of your utterances may be on the way to the Imperial City.” And she laid, her golden curly head beguilingly on his broad shoulder.