Alien Prince: (Bride of Qetesh) An Alien SciFi Romance (13 page)

When we entered the hall, everyone in the room stood and began to applaud and I could not help but grin from ear to ear as I walked the length of the hall, my queen on my arm. For a moment, I forgot that she would leave me. She was simply my new bride. I turned to look at her and she seemed somewhat uneasy underneath the weight of all that attention. The intoxicating effects of our previous intimacy had worn off and she looked self-conscious. I led her to her seat and pulled it out for her before taking my spot to her left.

When I sat, I gave a start. At the far end of the hall was a brilliantly appointed portrait of our late leader, Ramari Ro’quare. I stared, slack-jawed, at her regal beauty, until Lorelei’s voice cut into my reverie.

“Is that her?” she asked.

I could do nothing but nod my head in confirmation.

“She was very beautiful,” Lore said.

“She was that,” I agreed, “and so much more.” The portrait showed her sitting in this very hall, leaning roguishly to one side in her great arm chair. She had a finger pressed against the curve of her chin, and though her mouth was not smiling, her eyes certainly were. Her horns were painted slightly larger than I remembered them in real life, but they curved beautifully around her crown, just as I remembered they had. She wore beads in her hair and gold powder on her eyelids. And it was at once very pleasant and profoundly uncanny she was somehow here, with us, tonight.

Once we arrived, the food was served and I kicked myself silently for not insisting that we go straight to the banquet hall, forgetting that an entire village worth of people were waiting on the two of us to eat their supper. But the food was hot and delicious: meats and fine cheese, sweets and pastries made special, or saved for only the rarest of occasions.

Like a priest who had abandoned his post taking up the mantle of a king.

I heaved a sigh and watched Lore eat, tiny little bird nibbles. She was barely present, and her distraction distracted me in turn. I drank down my wine until I felt somewhat lighter, then turned to her and said, “You are not my prisoner. You may come and go as you please.”

She blinked, as though she had nearly forgotten I was sitting next to her and the sound of my voice broke the illusion. I frowned.

“I know I am not your prisoner,” she murmured, plucking a piece of sliced melon from her plate and popping it into her mouth. She allowed her gaze to rove idly over the expanse of the room, taking in the dozens of smiling faces, individual conversations indistinguishable in the constant din of laughter.

“You are not behaving as though you have any interest in being here,” I quipped, perhaps a little more harshly than I had meant to.

“Well,” she countered, her jaw in a stern line, her teeth clenched, “that is probably because I do not know whether I am your queen, your whore, or the stranded girl to whom you are so selflessly giving aid. From one moment to the next, I do not know if you are my friend, or my…”

“Your what?”

Instead of answering, she rose to her feet, urging me to mine right along with her. But the people mistook this gesture and stood with us, their wine glasses raised high as all of their eyes landed on us. Lorelei froze in place like a frightened animal, so I did all I thought I could do. I took her hand and raised my wine glass high, scrambling to think of an appropriate toast to fit the situation.

“Friends, on behalf of Lorelei and myself, I would like to thank you for joining us tonight. Undoubtedly, you were surprised by my sudden return—”

“To say the least!” Waelden called out, garnering a roar of laughter. I smiled, and continued.

“And, I should imagine, you were even more surprised by the presence of this lady, who has become my wife.” I swallowed hard, catching a glimpse of Lore out of the corner of my eye as I spoke. “Our village is, I am sad to say, no longer a large one. We have lost our men to age and illness, and all of our women to the strange affliction that came with this new territory. And I am deeply saddened to see our current unions to the lovely Europax ladies have yielded no fruit. But I shall not give up on you, any of you. I shall speak on your behalf to the Echelon until we have a solution so that we will not die out.”

I paused, and Lorelei squeezed my hand. I suppose that is why I had the strength to say what I said next. “I am…so ashamed that I abandoned you when Ramari Ro’quare was taken from us. I hope that you will find it in your hearts to forgive me. But until you do, know that this lady, my wife and my queen, is the reason I came back. Trust me when I say that she has shown exceptional bravery in the face of considerable odds, and her bravery has inspired my own. So raise your glass and honor her. My lady, my love.”

I looked at her then, and she seemed almost stricken, her eyes shining like two glass beads. I lifted my glass slightly as everyone around us said, in unison, “To the Queen”, and drank from their own glasses. Then I sat down and set about finishing my supper. The people did the same.

Lorelei, for her part, lingered awkwardly before deciding to resume her seat, and the din of conversation grew around us once more. She cast a sidelong glance my way, picking absently at her nail beds. “That was a nice speech,” she said.

“Thank you.”

“More than…nice.”

“Was it? I never fancied myself an orator.”

She looked out over the room, the strange mix of Qeteshi men and Europax women, and saw there were three or four dozen souls, all told. “Is this everyone?” she asked, and I think perhaps it only just registered that we were few, and still dying.

“We have a few cooks who have not joined us yet, but yes. This is everyone.” I looked around with her, and with the exception of a few of the ladies, there was not a single individual I could not name. “I think that is why they allowed me to just…come back and take up the crown. There isn’t much to manage when there are so few people. And when Ramari Ro’quare died…” I arched one shoulder in a shrug. “It sucked all the air out of the room. And no one wanted to follow her.”

“That surprises me,” she mused quietly. “It is not common for people not to vie for power.”

“We are not a common species.”

“But still,” she persisted, “someone had to be in charge of everything. Someone had to step up.”

“Each man is the master of his domain,” I said. “Waelden runs the armory. Offred is the treasurer. Dvorak is the blacksmith. We aren’t exactly going to war or meeting with the heads of state of other villages. How much they needed a leader is anyone’s guess.”

“But a spiritual leader…”

“Ah, yes,” I remarked. “That. That is where my primary regret lies. But then, I am in no position to be leading anyone to the gods when I feel that they have abandoned me.”

“You felt that way when Ramari Ro’quare died,” she said, reaching out to lay her hand over mine. “But do you still feel that way?”

I parted my mouth to speak, but it was then that Waelden approached and bent at the waist to mutter something in my ear. “Sir,” he said, not without a sense of urgency, “there are a pair of Keldeeri here to see you.”

“Now?” I asked, brows arched high.

“They insisted that it was urgent.” I looked over at Lore, who had already gotten to her feet.

“I’m coming with you,” she said. I should not have been the last bit surprised.

I didn't think it would happen so quickly. It had only been a matter of hours since we sent the distress signal, and I imagined that it had to bounce from satellite to satellite before it finally found its home aboard the
Atria
.

“They’ve come already?” I asked, as Calder rose to his feet. He took several long strides, following Waelden out of the room with me close at his heels.

“Not your people,” came his brusque reply. “The Keldeeri.”

The Keldeeri? No, not an official envoy. It couldn’t be. I gathered my skirts in my fists and lifted them just enough to pick up my pace, and the three of us made our way from the warmly glowing banquet hall back out into the cold steel halls of the Spire.

“You will stay behind me at all times,” Calder barked over his shoulder as we marched down the hall. “Waelden,” he continued, “assemble a coterie of men and have them waiting outside.”

“Absolutely.”

“And then come in and join us.” Waelden gave a sharp nod of his head, leaving us in front of a closed steel door. He turned on his heel to march back in the direction from which we’d come, and Calder peered down at me, his hand on the door knob.

“No harm will come to you, Lorelei,” he murmured. “Our marriage vows may be dubious at best, but I swear this much to you.” I nodded mutely, and Calder pushed his way into the room.

The room itself looked rather like a dentist’s waiting room, strangely enough, with uncomfortable looking leather chairs upholstered in orange and yellow fabric turned at an angle toward a low table, upon which was a collection of little potted plants that looked like succulents. I blinked as my eyes adjusted to the bright lighting.

My gaze fell upon three Keldeeri, in unmistakable burgundy uniforms with the Quarter Moon Crest on the lapel.

They stood behind the chairs when we came in, their hands clasped lightly in front of them. They were situated almost in formation, with the smallest of the three in the front, and the larger two just behind him.

The smallest was dark green in hue, with shrewd yellow eyes. He looked almost as though he were a Human-Keldeeri hybrid, for the texture of his flesh seemed softer than that of his compatriots. He had the blunted mandibles of the Keldeeri, but he had lips like any human man’s, and black hair pulled into a ponytail. His companions were tall, in shades of grey and black respectively. The bulge of their carapaces made the fabric of their uniforms stretch tautly over their chests; they gripped rifles in their long-fingered hands.

“Please forgive the intrusion,” the man in front said, holding out a hand to Calder. “We did not mean to interrupt a wedding banquet.”

“I confess,” Calder said, casting a glance to the Keldeeri’s outstretched hand, but making no move to take it, “I am curious as to what business the Quarter Moon might have with us that is so urgent that we should be pulled away from our celebration.”

The man smiled a thin smile that did not reach his lizard’s eyes. “Allow me to introduce myself: My name is Garrick Thassian, leader of the Quarter Moon.”

“I am Calder Fev’rosk,” came his tepid reply, “King of—”

“I know who you are,” Garrick interrupted. “I have known you all your life. I used to do business with your mother, Ramari Ro’quare. I knew your father as well. They knew me, and they knew my business.”

“Ramari Ro’quare would not have done business with slavers,” Calder quipped, crossing his arms in front of him.

“Ah, you see, that is where you are wrong. You will learn, Calder Fev’rosk, that the role of leader of a people is one of constant compromise. And those compromises are often moral ones.”

I swallowed hard and glanced between the men. After a long stretch of silence, Garrick finally turned his eyes on me, and when he did, Calder’s followed. “I neglected to introduce my wife. This is—”

“I know who she is as well,” Garrick said, his tone sharpening. “She is why we are here. Which, of course, you know.” Garrick took a few steps toward me, and I backed up without consciously meaning to do so. I saw Calder tense, even as Waelden slipped silently into the room. A single nod from Waelden is all we needed to know that the men had been assembled. I prayed to any gods that would hear me that we would not need them.

“What business have you with my wife?” Calder asserted as Garrick approached me.

“You have caused us quite a bit of trouble, Ms. Vauss,” he muttered in Keldeeri instead of Qeteshi so that only I could understand him, his tone sibilant as though he were a talking snake. “Escaping from our ship like that, when you had been promised to one of our best clients.”

“I was taken against my will,” I spat back in Qeteshi. “What did you expect?”

“I expect, that when I pay for five girls, I get the value of five girls. This is business, you understand.” He lifted a hand to tuck an errant lock of hair behind my ear, and I recoiled from his touch as though he were an open flame. He scowled and turned his attention then to Calder, who stood stock still, ready to pounce.

“This is a matter of business,” Garrick continued. “You understand business, I’m sure?” Condescending prick.

“I understand that this woman was kidnapped, but she was too clever for you, and you had to chase her across the solar system until her distress signal led you straight to her,” Calder said, smug. “That is what I understand.”

“Allow me to put it bluntly,” Garrick said, lifting his chin in an attempt to make himself seem taller. “I am here for the girl, or I am here for what we lost on her sale. Plus, of course, a small fee for our time and trouble. To say nothing of our damaged escape pod. You know what? As a show of good faith, I’ll waive the fee for the use and destruction of the pod.”

“This is absurd,” I shouted.

But Calder just stood tall and asked, “How much?”

“Excuse me?” I said, looking over at my so-called husband. “You will not pay for me.”

“Eight hundred thousand credits,” Garrick said. “Her sale was for six, but inflation being what it is…” I balked. Eight hundred thousand credits? It was an absurd price. “Someone was willing to pay quite a bit for a taste of your sweet human cunt.”

With Garrick, it was not an open-handed slap the way it had been with Calder. No, instead I balled my hand into a fist and swung until it made contact with his nose.

His head jerked back and his hands flew to his face as he yelped, and his guards were on me so quickly I hadn’t even seen them move.

It all happened so fast. The guards threw me to the floor and wrenched my arms behind my back, even as Waelden called in the assembled men. Calder hooked an arm around Garrick’s neck, holding him against his body with such force that Garrick was struggling to suck in air through his damaged nose.

“Stop! Stop.” Garrick held his hands out in front of him. He knew well enough that Calder could snap his neck in an instant, and I knew that he would if the two guards didn’t let me up from where they had me pinned to the cold metal floor.