An Imperfect Princess (24 page)

“I don’t believe
that anything to do with love or lust is sinful,” she argued, clutching her
hands in his hair.  “It’s hormones.  It’s biology.”

“That’s Aijo
talking,” he replied, and started to strip off his own clothing.  “Let me show
you just how wicked our bodies can be together.”

Once they were
both naked, he scooped her up and deposited her on the grand four poster bed,
then climbed in next to her.  His blood was raging, and all he could think
about was burying himself deep inside her.

And for the rest
of the night, he showed her many wicked ways indeed.

Eneria snuggled
deeper into her blanket, yawning and trying to stretch, but instead bumped up
against something hard and immobile.  She stiffened for a moment before
memories of the previous evening came flooding back.

“Good morning,” a
pleasant male voice rumbled behind her, and she felt strong arms reach around
and hold her.

She sighed
contentedly. It didn’t matter that she was a deposed princess, or that there
was a giant standing army with a price on her head the size of a planet. She
felt safe and secure.

She felt home.

It was a new
sensation for her, in its own way.  These last few years, she kept telling
herself that she wanted to go home to Lathlor, that she missed the planet.  But
that was untrue.  She missed her brother.  She missed Vaz.  She even missed her
mother to some extent.  She felt nothing for the palace where she had been
raised–the ancestral home of the house of d’Munt had been her father’s home. 
Narin d’Munt had not been a cruel man, but she had not received any of the
affection he reserved for his oldest son.  She’d always felt closer to her
uncle, Gordani d’Tar, Vaz’s father.  While Enny’s parents had been distant,
Gordani and Everiza had been much happier to be around her.

She didn’t want
to go home to Lathlor.  She wanted a home like the House of d’Tar–full of love
and laughter, except for that last terrible quarrel that had ruined all their
lives; the argument that Vaz had lost.

But Uncle
Gordani and Aunt Everiza were dead.  There was no home on Lathlor to return
to–no matter how much she struggled to find it there again.

Why not settle
down on this world?  Why not go into hiding, away from the Konkastians, away
from everyone?  Now that she had finally recognized what she had been missing,
she should take advantage of it.

And perhaps she
should take advantage of the warm, powerful male snuggled behind her as well.

“Good morning to
you, James,” she purred back.

Sometime later,
they were woken up by Aijo buzzing around their heads, distressed.

“The Konkastians
have left,” she said hurriedly when she finally had their attention.  “But they
discovered the change in orders and while it’s being chalked up to
miscommunication, they still plan on returning. I intercepted their broadcasts
home.”.”

Eneria’s heart
seized.   She sat up, clutching a sheet to her chest out of a misplaced sense
of modesty–the Pharinae had seen her naked plenty of times and wouldn’t care
about it regardless. “When?”

Aijo shook her
head.  “They weren’t given that information.  You could have two days, or two
months.”

James also sat
up, reaching around to hold Eneria possessively. “Let me help whatever way I
can.  Whether it is lead lined rooms or whatever is needed, I want to keep you
both safe.”

Eneria leaned
back against him gratefully.  To the fairy, she said, “We’re getting married.”

Aijo didn’t
argue.  “So you finally met someone who agreed your conditions?  I’m glad.  He’s
a titled noble on this little water ball at least.  Maybe your father won’t
turn over in his grave.”

“He didn’t have
a grave,” Eneria said softly, and she felt a gentle squeeze from James.  Neither
had his parents, she knew.

“Sorry, it
seemed like the appropriate idiom in this language...”  Aijo flickered, showing
her agitation.  “Anyway, even if you’re getting married, the dawn has already
arrived, and the servants are awake.  I’d suggest that Enny go back to her own
room.”

Sheepishly, she
crept out of the bed and gathered up her garments.  With the sheet wrapped
around his waist–also modest in front of Aijo–he helped her get back into her
corset and gown somewhat.  With all the royal dignity should could muster–which
wasn’t much, as Aijo had always lamented–she returned to the guest room in the
townhouse.  Anna met her with a conspiratorial giggle, which Eneria tried to
ignore by frostily raising one eyebrow again.  However, she failed miserably and
started laughing herself.  After a few moments of helpless giggling, the two of
them calmed down, and her maid ordered a bath from the upstairs servant outside
the door.

“I’m not even
going to pretend,” she said with a sigh as she was helped out of the rumpled
dress.  “James said something about ‘posting the banns’ today–I take it that is
a public declaration of intent to marry?”

Her maid
smiled.  “Indeed it is, and for that the whole of London will look the other
way if word of last night gets out... I have to say, I wanted to applaud when
you kept eating even with that horrible man pointing a–” she paused for a
moment, the word for technology beyond her ken escaping her.  “
Was
that
a gun?”

Eneria stripped
down to her shift, nodded, then plopped down on the fluffy bed which had seemed
so comfortable just two nights before, but which came across as cold and lonely
now. 

“It was a
special kind of gun, but I knew it was broken,” Eneria struggled to say. “It
was a gamble.  I could have easily died.”

“I’ll say!  But
I’m glad you’re all right.” 

The bath arrived
upstairs before long, and Eneria began thinking of all the changes she was
going to make to the estate in Cornwall if she was going to live there for the
rest of her life.  Indoor plumbing, to start.  Surely it had been invented by
now. 
She sank gratefully into the bath, aware of her body in new ways.  The first
time they had made love, she had been a little sore and hadn’t stopped to
analyze the other ways she felt afterward.  But this time, wrapped in his love,
she noticed the languor that permeated her limbs.  She felt relaxed, and yet at
the same time, she felt in her body that she wanted him even more.  Odd that
considering they had copulated three times the previous evening, all she could
think of was the next time.

The problem of
the Konkastians continued to eat at her, however, and she prayed for the safety
of Vaz and her mother.  Every day she remained here, the odds of them being
able to rescue her dropped more and more.

That was okay. 
She missed Vaz terribly, but she’d rather that they be safe in space without
her than risk their lives to save hers.

She dressed in a
morning gown of a pale blue and studied her hair critically in the mirror.  She
hated dying it.  Maybe back in Cornwall she wouldn’t have to.

Aijo popped up
out of nowhere, as her species was in the bad habit of doing.

“Since you’re
determined to go through with this foolish caper,” the fairy said, annoyance in
her tone, “I’ve taken the liberty of looking up the local wedding customs.  The
earliest you can tie the knot is in about two months.  It is all the rage for
brides to wear white here; apparently that fad just started a few years ago.”

Eneria eyed
herself one last time before turning away from the mirror.  “I know I won’t be
a pretty bride like Vaz was, but I think I’d like to wear white.” 

The breakfast
table was silent when she approached.  Marilyn was still too young to
understand the implications of the previous evening, and Clarissa was too
polite to say anything.

After she was
seated, however, James finally cleared his throat.  “We’re leaving for Cornwall
on the morrow. The staff here has been notified.  I have also consulted a
solicitor regarding our wedding arrangements.”

Both Clarissa
and Marilyn perked up then.

“Wedding
arrangements?” Clarissa said with an unladylike croak.  “Oh James, Eneria!
Congratulations to you both!”

Marilyn,
however, bolted from the table without a word.  The three adults stared after
her, nonplussed.

“Not the
reaction I expected,” James finally said, dropping his fork to his plate
carefully.  “I thought she’d be happy.”

Aijo buzzed in
around the room and settled on the centerpiece in the middle of the table. “I’m
going to go talk to her.”

Aijo found
Marilyn in the nursery, clutching the Princess Enny doll, sobbing into Mrs.
Thomas’s skirts.

“There, there,
pet,” the old woman said, and rocked the child back and forth.  “His lordship
needed to find a wife, and you can’t do much better than a princess from the
Continent.”  She stroked Marilyn’s curls as if she actually were her pet and
not her ward.

“But they’re
going to die!” Marilyn wailed.

“Whatever gives
you that idea?” Mrs. Thomas asked, genuinely puzzled.

“Married people
die...”

Ah, Aijo
thought, finally able to discern the child’s underlying distress.  She had
known death early; her parents and grandparents all gone at once.  Those were
the only losses to death she had experienced, it seemed.  So somehow, she not
only blamed herself for her parent’s death, but also assumed that only married
people died.

“We all die,
someday,” her governess said with a distant look in her eyes.  “I lost my own
Harold when I was only fifty.  But even after he left me, I knew I wanted to
live on.  I knew that’s what he wanted too.  So I went out into the world, and
your parents hired me on the spot.”  She looked back at Marilyn and smiled. 
“It isn’t marriage that makes people die, it is life itself.  We don’t all last
forever, and then God calls us back to be with him.”

Marilyn’s sobs
subsided a little, but she was still not entirely appeased.  “Will Uncle James
still love me if he has Princess Enny?”

“Of course,”
Mrs. Thomas said firmly.  “Love isn’t something that has a finite amount.  The
more love you give, the more love grows.  People who love many are themselves
the most beloved.”

Aijo left them,
feeling a little useless.  Marilyn had a perfectly capable governess all her
own.  She had thought that the woman didn’t understand the girl, but that wasn’t
true.  And Eneria, once she married, would no longer be the heir to the House
of d’Munt–she would no longer be Aijo’s responsibility.

“So where does
that leave me?” the fairy wondered, and she felt a sudden pang of nostalgia.

Eneria wanted to
stay.  But now, Aijo really,
really
wanted nothing more than to go home
to see her father and her sisters and everyone from her colony.

She looked out
of the window at the landing on the stairs, an alien being on an alien world.

As the household
packed up for Cornwall, the London servants made it known that they were quite
envious that James and Eneria were planning their wedding for the fall and not
in town.  James had explained that Eneria wanted to get away from London until
all this nonsense with the assassins was sorted out.  The Konkastians had
disappeared without a trace.  Rumor had it that Scotland Yard had chased them
off, but the Holding household knew the truth. 

Eneria found
herself having to order yet another entire wardrobe, this time as a wedding
trousseau.  She was getting exasperated over having so many clothes; even on
Lathlor, where she and Vaz had shared a trio of fashion designers to keep their
wardrobes refreshed each season, she could not remember having so many
dresses. 

The same modiste
that had done her initial wardrobe a short two months before took over, and
they promised to deliver the trousseau personally in the next few weeks.

“Well, Aijo,”
Eneria said, sitting on one packed trunk while her maid fussed over another one
in the next room over.  “The wife of a country earl isn’t quite as good as
being the heir to the House of d’Munt, but considering the circumstances, I
think I’ll roll with it.”

“You could
certainly have done better,” Aijo grumbled, but then conceded a point.  “You
could also have done a lot worse.  He’s a primitive, another species entirely,
and probably not someone your father would have approved of.  But he loves
you.”  The fairy sighed, her tiny golden face showing a rare melancholy
expression.  “And for that alone, I will let him have you.”

Suddenly Eneria
realized why Aijo was so miserable. 

“You’re free,
you know,” she said gently.  “With this marriage, there is no more House of d’Munt. 
We can’t have children...”

“Yeah,” Aijo
said.  “And I’m free to go where, exactly? To do what?  You just said you’re
not having any children, and even if you could, Mrs. Thomas will take care of
them.  I can’t travel through the wormholes without a ship any more than you
can.  And there are none of my people around... And I miss my papa.”

The last words
were said so quietly that Eneria almost didn’t hear them, but she did, and they
broke her heart. 

Aijo’s family
had been close. Most Pharinae were, although since their relationships weren’t
limited to gender or age and they did tend to live a long time, they had pretty
complicated family trees.  Aijo had never spoken of a mother, but her father
had been ranked powerfully on Lathlor. There was no reason to suspect that he
too had been killed in the coup.   Aijo’s two little sisters, Meijo and Reijo,
had been jealous of their big sister’s enormous responsibility, but they had
been good company as well whenever they visited.

Eneria suddenly
prayed that Vaz would come after all, if not for her own sake, then for the
sake of poor Aijo.

James opted to
ride with the outriders on their caravan because once again, having Eneria
within a few feet of him would drive him absolutely mad.  He could not wait
until after they were married, when they would raise no eyebrows if they
sneaked upstairs for an afternoon siesta.

Despite his
raging hormones, he was in high spirits.  He would only be missing a few weeks
of the legislative session of Parliament, and he had found the political
process dreadfully boring anyway.  For the first time since his parents had
gone missing, he felt as if he was going
home
to Cornwall instead of
leaving home in London or Cambridge.  Maybe that’s what acquiring a fiancé did
to a person’s mindset, he mused.

She had spoken
in length with him about what she wanted to do with the manor house, to
“modernize” it, as she had put it, and he was almost glad she was going to be
taking over.  The sooner the ghosts of his mother and father and brother were
gone from the house, the better.   He’d rather she turn their ancestral home
into something to her liking, than leave it as a museum for the dead.

They’d also sold
and invested most of her jewels, at her insistence, including that platinum
pendant that had caused her so much grief.

“It is better to
be rid of it and give myself a clean slate,” she had said.

He had bought
her a much less garish ring and necklace to replace it.  She had cooed over the
craftsmanship as she was wont to do whenever she saw pretty jewels. 

She may be an
alien creature from another world, and a very smart one at that, but she was
still a woman, and he loved her for it.

The Courtland
estate was in an uproar when the master of the house returned almost a month
earlier than expected and with the announcement that he was marrying the crazy
Continental from the shipwreck.

But the surprise
was not unwelcome.  Over the last few years, the house had grieved for two
generations of lost lords and had to deal with a new master who mourned as
well, not only for his family but for his very existence.  Having him return
with the announcement that he was taking a bride made everyone happier than
they had been in a while.

Even Wilkins,
who had despaired of his young master ever taking his responsibilities
seriously, and who still believed the strange girl from the shipwreck was quite
insane, found himself swept up into the planning and festivities.

The wedding
would take place in the chapel at St Ives.  There were legal hurdles to
overcome, as Eneria wasn’t an English citizen (or even a citizen of the planet,
for that matter.)  But some things are universal, such as the legal persuasion
of large sums of money, and before long James’s solicitor had procured a
special license for them, which listed Eneria’s country of origin as the
fictional Lestonia.

With two weeks
to go before the wedding and still no sign of the Konkastians returning, Eneria
began to let her guard down.  She fell into the happy pattern of letting the
staff at the estate run her life.  It was very improper for her to live in the
same house as him before the wedding, so she’d been relocated temporarily to
the dower house near the marina.

Even as her
happiness grew, Aijo became more and more despondent.  Nothing Marilyn or
Eneria did could cheer her up.  The fairy took to hanging out in the kitchen,
among the bustle and business of the household staff, a silent observer to a
world in which she didn’t belong.             

Eneria was
walking with James along that same path from the beach, admiring the sunset
over the ocean.  Autumn was approaching and there was a nip in the air.

“What was
Lathlor’s climate like?” he asked after she commented on the chill.

“Where we lived,
it was warm year round.  Our planet was a little cooler than this one, I
believe; our icecaps extend nearly a quarter of the way down to the equator. 
The most densely populated areas are in the tropics.  Our axial tilt is smaller
than Earth’s, so the seasons are not so noticeable.”

The stars
started to peep out above them, and they looked out together at them.

“I’m glad you
came,” he whispered.  “I’m glad our fates twisted together.”

She smiled as he
held her.  “I’m glad too.”

And she was. 
For the first time in years, she felt at peace.  She would never be able to
return to her life on Lathlor, but really, that was not a loss.  She hadn’t had
a very full life before–books, tutoring, lessons from Aijo on court etiquette,
and her craft.  Since she’d be able to continue making jewelry, all the rest of
it would not be missed.

“Look, a
shooting star,” James said, and Eneria glanced up at the sky.  She caught a
glimpse of the meteor burning in the atmosphere.

“Those are
ordinary bolides,” she said.  “No more princesses from other worlds coming
down.”

But as they
watched, one of the meteors grew brighter.  Eneria felt herself holding her
breath.  That was definitely not a shooting star.

From the house,
Aijo burst out with Clarissa, Marilyn, and a confused Mrs. Thomas in tow.

“The
Konkastians! They’re coming! Hide!” Marilyn shouted, as Aijo’s tinny voice
could not project that far.

They watched in
horror as the shooting start turned into a fireball.  Unlike Eneria’s wild
descent months before, this was strictly controlled–the plasma faded fast as
they decelerated rapidly against the darkening sky.

“I’m sorry,”
Enny whispered to him, not sure what she was apologizing for.

“How do they
know they are your enemies?” he asked, staring at the bright point in the sky.

“Aijo probably
intercepted a message from them.”  She felt her throat close, but no tears
came.  She suddenly understood how Vaz had felt on her wedding day–trapped. 
She had nowhere to run.

“Should you go
inside the house?” James was trying hard not to sound fearful, but the menacing
red light of the ship caused his voice to break as well.

“No.  They will
simply destroy it.”  She took her hands from him and stared into his eyes. 
“James, you must stay here.  You have two wonderful girls that need you.  I
should never have come into your life.  I should have died in the ocean.”

“No,” he said,
in denial. “I won’t lose you too.”

“I will die
instantly and painlessly.”  She reached up and kissed him fiercely.  “My father
would have approved of you for sure.  I would have liked to share a life with
you...”

She pushed him
away and ran toward the ocean, flailing her arms.

“I’m here, you
bastards!” she shouted in Lathlian.

James stared
after her, slack jawed for a moment.  He started to take a few running steps
after her, but Aijo appeared in front of him suddenly.

“Eneria told you
to stay,” she said firmly.  “She does not want you to get caught in the
crossfire.”

The rest of the
group came behind them, panting and wheezing.

“Where has
Princess Enny gone?” Marilyn said, confused.  “Why aren’t you with her, Uncle
James?”

“She said she
had something she needed to do alone,” he said, his voice stricken with grief.

They watched as
the ship grew larger and at the same time dimmer.  It hovered above them
momentarily, a glorious saucer in bright red, its flood lamps menacing on the
beach.

Eneria stood out
there alone, shoulders squared, her hair whipped by the wind as she finally
surrendered to her fate. 

Behind them,
Mrs. Thomas fainted as a smooth walkway descended from the ship, melting from
the side like a liquid. Clarissa tried to grab her, but the poor old soul could
not handle the unworldly visitation before them.

A squadron of
Konkastian troops descended, their uniforms an identical shade of red as the
ship they came from. 

“Where’s Aijo?”
Marilyn asked, looking around.  “Are they going to hurt her too?”  The fairy
had gone missing.

A single man
came down the ramp then.  Even from their distance far above the beach, they
could tell it was Captain Kordan.

Eneria stood
there, garbed in the local clothing of the planet she had wanted to call home,
facing her enemy.

Kordan was the
first to speak.  “Nice trick there, with the electromagnetic pulses,” he said,
giving her a tiny salute of respect.  “It would have worked, except our own
ship was able to pinpoint the source as coming from three small units.  You hid
them in jewelry, yes?”

She nodded,
knowing the game was up.  “Yes.  This is a primitive world.  I had no other way
to fight back.”

“Excellent
strategy, Princess Eneria.” He sighed.  “What a pity that brilliant mind of
yours is too dangerous for the Konkastian military to employ.  We’d have to
strip your memories so deep your entire brain would be in danger of failing.” 
He raised what appeared to be an ornamental, ceremonial rifle, and Eneria
realized with a start that it was a chemical tranquilizer.  The kind that was
purely mechanical; no electronics involved.

She was really
going to
die
this time.  This was it.  No more running, no more tricks,
no more hiding.

“Wait,” she
cried, and took a few faltering steps forward.  “The primitives who assisted
me.  They know nothing, and even if they did, they couldn’t share any
information with your enemies.  Please don’t hurt them.”

Kordan
shrugged.  “I had no intention of doing so.  They are useless to us, and
contrary to belief, we prefer to avoid needless suffering.”

“Hah!” Eneria
didn’t believe that for one moment.  “You don’t believe in needless suffering,
but what of the primitives on Yertarf?  What of the sieges of the colonies of
Ulugool? The enslavement of the Vassk?  You conquer, and then you subjugate. 
People suffer and people die every minute because of you.”  She was getting
angrier.  “What in the name of the Galaxy are you after?”

“If you believe
that I’m going to tell you just because I’m about to kill you now, you’re sadly
mistaken.”  He cocked the mechanical trigger of the pistol.  “But your world
didn’t have what we wanted anyway.  Goodbye, Princess Eneria d’Munt.”

The silenced
whiz of the mechanical dart was too fast for her to notice.  She had a
flashback to Vaz’s wedding, when the sleeping capsule under Vaz’s nose had
caught them both off guard.  This time, however, she got the full dose, and it
was a completely different chemical concoction.

Eneria crumpled
to the ground, the potent neurotoxin already sapping the strength from her
limbs.  She would probably be dead in minutes.

She struggled to
stay conscious as the Konkastians boarded their ship and took off quickly. 

No more running
away.  No more second chances.  She was going to die on this beautiful,
primitive planet.  The House of d’Munt would end with her.

Only after the
ship had taken off did Aijo appear in front of Eneria.

“Aijo!” Enny
managed to whisper, as she saw the fairy in front of her.  The tiny golden
being stood out like a candle in the darkness.