Pet's Pleasure (8 page)

She looked at him expectantly. Bekion found he couldn’t refuse her. He hadn’t planned to but her hopeful expression would have dissolved all argument. Starling had a power of persuasion he didn’t quite understand. Perhaps it was her height and the way it gave her an air of innocence.

Whatever it was, he would have to watch himself or he might give her everything and anything without even realizing.

“Starling, I understand your worry—”

“Please, Bekion.”

“And I fully intend to take you with me when I leave the palace.”

“Promise.” She gripped his hands.

“You have my word. Where I go, you go. Not only for your safety but because you are my pet. Your place is at my side.”

Again, she sagged. Bekion stood. He was about to look at his arm cuff when Vieve breezed into the room with a tablet held out for him.

“Bekion, your conference will start in fifteen minutes and the scientists leaving for Earth’s solar system have submitted their final flight plan and schedule for your approval.”

“Yet again, you don’t knock.”

“Yet again, you’re stating the obvious.” She grinned at his look of annoyance. “Your door was open. Why should I knock when you can see perfectly well I’m there?”

“And when my door is closed?”

She shrugged. “Nothing will keep me from properly performing my duties. That is why you appointed me your secretary.”

Bekion bit back his next comment about replacing her. It was a flat-out lie. He could never replace Vieve. There was no one he trusted enough. What’s more, the annoying woman knew that. He snatched the tablet out of her hands and looked at it.

The report before him was a formality. So long as the expedition vessel stayed the required distance from Earth, he couldn’t care less what they were doing or how long they were gone. Despite his apathetic attitude, he read over the itinerary with a critical eye for any inconsistencies.

“Bekion?” Starling said in a small voice.

He looked away from the tablet to her. She sounded worried again. How much worry could such a small body hold? He was right to think she would have him comforting her for the rest of the day if he allowed it.

This was the last time. As Vieve had already said, he only had a few minutes before his meeting. “Yes, Starling?”

“That expedition to Earth—”

Vieve said, “Earth’s solar system, not Earth itself.”

Starling nodded. “Earth’s solar system. I—”

“You cannot go.” Bekion returned his gaze to the tablet once more. That went quicker than he’d thought it would. “I’ve said returning you to Earth is an impossibility. Even if Gorov law allowed it, the expedition vessel cannot get that close.”

“That’s not what I was going to ask,” she snapped.

Her annoyance surprised him enough that he stopped splitting his attention between her and the tablet and looked only at her.

She took a breath then said, “I was hoping… I mean… If I wrote a letter, would they be able to somehow send it to Earth?”

“A letter to whom?”

“My parents. I don’t know how long I’ve been gone but I know they have to be worried about me.” She clenched her fists at her side. “I could tell them I’m okay and not to worry.”

“And how would you explain not being able to see them ever again? How would you explain having no way for them to contact you and not knowing when you would be able to contact them again? Where would you tell them you are?”

“I don’t know.” A single tear slid down her cheek. “I don’t know. But even something,
anything
would make me feel better. I would know my parents aren’t worrying needlessly.”

Vieve placed a hand on Starling’s shoulder. “You have to know such a vague letter will worry them more.”

The hurt expression Starling turned to Vieve made Bekion want to grant her wish to alleviate her pain, if only a little. It would be a false positive. While he respected her right to grieve and knew she needed time to come to terms with her loss, giving in to every whim to keep contact with home would cause her more pain.

He looked down at the tablet once more but the words meant nothing to him. Rather than sign and hope it had nothing suspect, he would put it off until a time when he could concentrate. First he had to deal with Starling.

He said, “While I would like to grant your wish, Starling, I cannot.”

Tears glistened in her pleading eyes. “Why not? It’s just a letter.”

“I have two reasons.” He held up one finger. “First, denying you the ability to send this letter strikes me as the perfect punishment.”

Starling’s eyes widened until Bekion thought they might fall out of her head. She huffed a few times and then went off on a long, loud rant in her mother tongue.

Vieve said, “Bekion, five minutes.”

He nodded. There was no hurry. If he were attending the meeting of the monarchs, which was tomorrow, etiquette dictated he be there early to await Supreme Emperor Udo’s arrival. In a meeting with Panagiota’s lords, they waited for him.

Starling stopped when she ran out of breath. He watched her in silence for a moment. “Are you finished?”

She snapped one last thing then stalked toward the bedroom.

“Second,” he called after her.

She stopped but didn’t look at him.

“I cannot allow it when I cannot understand it. Your language and how it is written are unknown to me. Allowing such a correspondence would be reckless.”

“You don’t know how to quit, do you?” She swung back and faced him. “Fine! I’ll translate it for you.”

“And I should trust your translation when you’ve been so reluctant until now?”

Vieve said over Starling’s next words, “Might I make a suggestion that would hurry this along so Bekion can arrive on time for his meeting rather than late?”

Bekion waved her to proceed.

Starling crossed her arms but said nothing.

Vieve said, “The translation project would solve all problems. Starling could input her language into the database. Once finished, you could understand her letter and allow her to send it in good conscience.” She glanced at Starling then back at Bekion. “That is, if she is off punishment by then.”

He smiled when Starling grumbled what could only be an insult. “Your suggestion holds merit. Starling?”

His little pet rolled her eyes then asked in a gruff voice, “What do I have to do?”

“Vieve will explain it. I must depart.” He faced the doorway and found Rois and Nausic there. “Nausic, Starling is to remain in my chambers unless I summon her.”

Nausic nodded.

“Come, Rois.”

Bekion led the way to his audience chamber, where the conference would take place via several viewing monitors.

Rois chuckled.

Bekion asked, “What’s so amusing?”

“Are you sure you want to know what she said? That last tirade of hers sounded particularly harsh. I doubt you really need a translation to understand her meaning.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Whatever she writes to her parents wouldn’t matter.”

“No, it wouldn’t.”

“Then why press the issue?”

Bekion entered the audience chamber and closed Rois out of the room rather than answer the man’s question. He didn’t know the cause of his stubbornness over something so insignificant.

He did know he wouldn’t back down.

Chapter Six

Starling wanted to throw something at Bekion’s head as he left the room. There was nothing close at hand.

Vieve’s muffled laughter brought Starling’s attention back to the woman.

“Your expression is so cute. I can’t help but laugh.” Vieve chuckled more.

Starling was betting her attitude and words wouldn’t be so cute if she were the same height as the people around her. They should be insulted and offended. But getting upset about their reactions only served to raise her blood pressure.

She looked at the breakfast table. She was hungry thanks to her stomach’s refusal to digest the
pelbuah
soup but her appetite waned when she contemplated eating again. She hoped lunch turned out better.

She faced Vieve. “Tell me about this translation project. How do I get my language into the database?”

Vieve pulled out another tablet. She tapped it a few times, probably inputting information via some unseen keys, and then handed it to Starling. “This is the translation project. It was founded many generations ago when the Gorov Empire started expanding.”

Starling took the tablet and stared at the list of simple greetings.

“While the
jehlvan
language can be transmitted via the visor you encountered when you first entered the palace, it can only implant languages it knows. Whenever the empire happens upon a new language, we ask the peoples to input it into our database, thus increasing our knowledge.”

“Okay, so what do I do?”

Vieve pointed at the first phrase. “This is
jehlvan
.”

“I assumed.”

“Read the line.”

“Hello.” The tablet beeped.

“Now repeat the phrase in your language.”

Starling said in English, **Hello.**

The tablet beeped again. A blinking cursor appeared below the word.

Vieve handed Starling a stylus. “Now write it. Please print legibly as the computer will try to simulate what you write.”

Starling wrote out the word and the tablet beeped. What she wrote disappeared and then returned as typed letters. Not typed like she would see on a computer but a computerized version of her own handwriting. She had to be careful to input the letters correctly or else she would teach the computer bad habits.

Vieve asked, “Is that correct?”

Starling nodded.

“You press this button.” Vieve pointed at a blue button at the bottom of the tablet. “And then move on to the next.”

“That’s easy enough.”

“And very boring.”

“Do I have to speak the word and write it at the same time or can I do the spoken part and go back to the written later or vice versa?”

“You can do one or the other or both at the same time. That is entirely up to you. Simply specify to the tablet.”

“
To
the tablet?”

Vieve smiled. “Tablet, audio-translation mode only.”

In a voice similar to Vieve’s, the tablet said, “Audio-only mode ready.”

That impressed Starling. She decided to try it. “Tablet, resume audio and written translation.”

“Audio-transcript mode ready,” the tablet said in Starling’s voice.

It was a little eerie but interesting.

Vieve asked, “Any other questions?”

“Can I skip around or do I have to do it in order?”

Vieve directed Starling’s stylus to the side of the tablet and dragged it downward. The page scrolled. “While it’s better to do it in order, you can proceed however you want.”

As the words and phrases zoomed by, Starling stared in amazement at the amount. It made sense because she was inputting her entire language. But seeing it presented as a list made it daunting.

Vieve said, “You can either use the stylus for the scavenger method or specify a particular category, like numbers or colors. In either case, tap the line you wish to translate and proceed as I already showed you.”

“How do I save my progress?”

“That is done automatically. The program is also intuitive. It will try to apply your finished translations to future phrases. You correct its guesses. There will also be times when the program asks for explanations, such as with idioms or if a phrase you translate doesn’t agree with a previous usage.”

Starling nodded as she stared at her new task. At least she knew her job for the next however long. She was stuck with Bekion and needed to establish some sort of routine.

She planned to finish the translation project quickly. It sucked that she wouldn’t be allowed to go off on her little English tirades without fear of punishment once she did, but at least she could let her friends and family know she wasn’t dead. If Bekion kept his word.

She asked, “Do you really think he’ll let me send my letter once I’m done with this? Or is this some way of placating me until I forget, since this is such a long project?”

Vieve shrugged. “It may be a little of both. I cannot be sure. There is only one way to find out though.”

Starling nodded.

“I shall leave you to it.”

Starling watched the woman exit the room then regarded the tablet. Before she could decide if she wanted to start in the middle or at the beginning, someone plucked the tablet from her fingers. She turned to give the person a piece of her mind but stopped.

Furielle smiled as she held the tablet above her head. “Good morning, Lady Starling. Since you are finished eating—”

Starling snorted.

“It’s time for your bath.” Furielle stepped back and waved her hand in the direction of the bathroom. “Afterward, the seamstresses wish to measure you for your wardrobe.”

“Am I going to have some say in what I wear?”
Especially since I have no say in how my hair will look
, she added to herself.

“I will defer to your tastes so long as the clothing is feminine and befitting of your title, as per Bekion’s orders.”

That left a lot to interpretation. Starling met Furielle’s gaze. “You remember what we talked about, right?”

“I do.”

“Then can we please keep this simple? I’m not used to being pampered and the like. I’m also not used to fancy clothing.” She looked down at the gown that if sold could probably feed a poor family for several years. “Bekion may think it’s cute but no more of this fabric. It makes me uneasy wearing it.”

“Most women would kill to wear such clothing.” Furielle ushered Starling toward the bathroom. “But, as Bekion did not specify what your clothes were to be made of, I see no issue with your request.”

“We’re making progress.”

Once in the bathroom, Starling stripped and handed her clothes to Furielle. She walked to the spot where she had washed the day before. While she didn’t need a shower, the water soothed away a little of her tension from the earlier excitement.

Furielle said, “We await you in the inner chamber.”

Starling waved over her shoulder. Tempting though it may be to stay in the shower until she turned into a prune, she washed quickly. She wanted to get to the translation project as soon as possible.

There was no towel nearby or anything else that could be used for drying herself. Starling called, “Furielle, I need a towel.”

Furielle returned with a towel and beckoned Starling forward.

The little-kid feeling returned as Furielle dried her off. A small flashback of her mother doing something similar made Starling pull away and yank the towel from Furielle. The woman jerked back in surprise.

“I can do it,” Starling said in a rough voice.

“Of course.” Furielle straightened.

Starling didn’t want to think about her mother. She might start crying again.

She finished drying off, wrapped the towel around herself then followed Furielle out of the bathroom. The inner chamber, which had been empty when she’d started her shower, housed ten other people.

She asked, “Why so many people to make clothes for me?”

Furielle said, “They are teams. One for your underclothes—” She gestured to three women, who nodded. “One for your shoes and jackets and headwear and the last for your everyday attire.” The last seven women bowed.

Starling said, “Hello.”

“She’s darling,” one woman gushed. “I had heard rumors but thought them untrue. I’ve never seen a human that didn’t look like some sort of experiment gone horribly wrong but they were right. She does look like a
jattikan
child.”

“Except for those breasts,” another woman said.

The first nodded. “Yes, well, there is that.”

Furielle clapped her hands. “Ladies, gossip later. Work now.”

“Of course, mistress,” the women said in unison.

Furielle faced Starling with her hand out. “You need to remove the towel.”

Starling didn’t argue. The women descended on her as soon as she removed the towel. She braced herself for more fondling.

Surprisingly enough, the women were all business from start to finish. One measured while the others took notes. Starling did as she was prompted—lifting her arms, standing with her legs together, standing with her legs apart, sitting, crouching, and a whole host of other positions that made no sense. At least she was getting some exercise.

Measurements finished, the task of picking outfits started. The women showed Starling several catalogues and cloth samples. The options impressed her. Panagiota even had clothing that resembled jeans and cotton shirts.

Starling, despite resolving not to, ordered every single outfit that caught her fancy. Clothes had never been her thing. Her closet on Earth had the bare necessities for any occasion. Some outfits could even be transformed with simple accessories to be for more than one occasion.

That Spartan lifestyle had ended. When she couldn’t find certain things, like sweatpants, she described them to the group so the seamstresses could make them.

At one point, one of the ladies discovered the unique texture of Starling’s hair and had to play with it. The others invited themselves to do the same. Starling didn’t complain since the women had refrained from fondling her breasts.

“This doesn’t look like a fitting to me,” Nausic said from the doorway.

The women all gasped and stepped away from Starling quickly.

Starling looked back at them and then at Nausic. “They got distracted.” She didn’t feel the least bit embarrassed being naked before him. More than likely because he’d already seen her naked—and hairless.

Furielle said, “Sir Nausic, we are proceeding quite quickly. Lady Starling should have several new outfits by the end of the week.”

Nausic said, “Good. Bekion has called for her.”

“What? But we’re not finished. She isn’t dressed.”

Starling said, “Yeah, I’m not dressed. I’m not going anywhere without clothes.”

Nausic said to Furielle, “She can wear what she wore yesterday.”

“No, she cannot,” Furielle said in a firm voice. “She is the pet of a king. There would be no end to the gossip if she were seen in the same clothes two days in a row.”

“You had a nightgown for her last night. Put her in that.”

“That is a nightgown.”

“She is a pet. It doesn’t matter what she wears. It does matter that Bekion has summoned her and is waiting. If you had seen to your duties rather than indulging in silliness, she would have proper clothing to wear.” Nausic looked at each of the women in turn. “Get her ready. You have three minutes.”

He stalked out of the room.

Starling half expected him to slam the door on his way out. He didn’t. She faced Furielle, who had her jaw clenched so tight Starling thought she would chip a tooth. She asked, “What nightgown?”

Furielle huffed and then said, “Bekion did not want to disturb you by allowing me to change your clothes.”

“Is it opaque?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, sounds good to me. Let’s get to it before you all get in trouble.”

“It’s a nightgown.”

“You’ve got option one and option two. Your choice.” Starling put her hands on her hips.

One of the other ladies said, “If you add a sash, it will not look so much like a nightgown, mistress.”

Furielle nodded. “You’re right.”

And just like that, the problem was solved. Starling put on the floor-length, silver A-line nightgown. It had small bubble sleeves and looked exactly like something a child would wear to bed. One of the ladies produced a light blue sash that she crisscrossed over Starling’s breasts and then looped around her waist to make a bow in the back.

“Time’s up,” Nausic said as he reentered. He walked straight toward Starling, scooped her up and started out of the room.

Starling looked back at Furielle. “My tablet.”

Furielle jogged after them with the tablet held out.

Nausic swung back, snatched the tablet and then continued on his way.

His motions almost made Starling seasick, except she didn’t have anything left in her stomach to be sick with.