Lee Shores

by Rachel Ford

  “Charming,” Maggie declared. “I can see family holidays are going to be a barrel of laughs.”

  There was a note of wry humor in her words that was possible, I knew, only because she wasn’t actually planning to be a member of this family. No wonder, I thought, she took a swing at her friend’s brother, if this is anything like the reception she got when announcing her marriage to a human.

  Frank sighed. “You have my choice, Mother, Father. I have given my word. Now you must either accept Magdalene as your daughter, or, if it be your decision, cast me off as your son.”

  “Wait, what?” I said.

  I was ignored, however. Dre and R’ia exchanged glances, and the older man’s expression softened. “Of course we’re not going to cast you off, F’er. You are our son. A fool – but our son all the same.”

  “Is that your decision as well, Mother?”

  She frowned deeply at him. “Do you have to ask, F’er?”

  Something like civility returned to the discussion at Frank’s ultimatum. Maggie was treated with a fascinating measure of coolness and warmth, in perfect, unflinching unison. If his family was anything to go by, the Kudarians had the art of passive aggressiveness down to a tee.

  Dre apologized stiffly. “You must forgive my words, Magdalene. I spoke in haste and in the passion of the moment.”

  “If you are F’er’s life mate, then you are our daughter,” R’ia declared with the grim resignation of a woman marching toward the hangman’s noose.

  Maggie accepted these words with good humor. “I was surprised,” she said. “Most people wait to get to know me before disliking me. But I’m happy to forget what was said in anger.”

  “Ah, I think I see where you have picked up that sense of humor of yours, F’er,” the elder Kudarian woman smiled. Her tone was congenial, but there was an upturned tilt to her nose and a kind of pinched delivery that made me think this was less a compliment than it might have appeared on face value.

  “Oh, no,” Frank said. “I’ve been teaching her.”

  Maggie’s eyes twinkled. “Frank tells me that all Kudarians love a good jest.”

  “F’er,” his father said, with some emphasis on his son’s Kudarian name, “has led you astray, my dear. We are a sober people.”

  I saw F’rok, the youngest and quietest of the Inkaya children, roll his eyes.

  “But tell us about yourself, Magdalene,” R’ia put in. “F’riya says you are from a warrior house?”

  I found myself the odd-man-out as the conversation progressed. Maggie was doing an admirable job of getting half-acquainted with her fake-family, and Frank was doing what he could to keep the mood light. His younger brother seemed to express his thoughts via facial tics more than words. His eyebrows rarely sat still, and he rolled his eyes more than a few times. I wondered if he realized that his face was screaming his thoughts despite his verbal silence.

  Of all the family, only F’riya seemed to take much note of me – and that was furtive, confused and apologetic glances. I could only imagine what she was thinking. Half an hour ago, she’d welcomed me to her family; now she was welcoming Maggie, in the place she’d imagined belonged to me.

  In a few moments, conflicted and grim, the heads of House Inkaya rose. “Well,” R’ia said, “we’re going to have to call Kia’s parents.”

  Dre nodded. “Sooner rather than later. I pray they will be in an understanding humor.”

  “If it helps at all, Father,” Frank put in, “please extend my apologies as well. We didn’t want to tell you such important news over a comm link. Otherwise, this whole mess might have been avoided. But we wanted to be here, on the home planet.”

  “As is proper,” his father nodded gravely. “Thank you, F’er. I will remind them of this.”

  “I will ask if they will join us tonight,” R’ia said. “Since the betrothal has not yet been announced, there will be no shame to either party. We can hold our celebration as planned. Only it will be for you and Magdalene.” This last phrase seemed to cause her an almost physical pain to utter.

  “Why have a celebration at all?” Frank wondered. “We can mark the event privately.”

  His parents exchanged nervous glances, and F’rok snorted. “We’ve already sent invitations.”

  “To who?” he frowned.

  “A few people,” his mother answered.

  “How few?”

  Dre shrugged. “A few of your cousins. Some of my and your mother’s friends. F’riya’s friend, Ger ark britya. The local High Priest.”

  “Oh gods,” Frank groaned. “You’ve invited half of Kriar.”

  His father shrugged again. “Not quite. But it will be a full house.”

  “Is that really necessary?” Maggie wondered. She seemed a bit paler than usual, and I wondered if, now, she was rethinking her ruse.

  “Yes,” R’ia declared firmly. “We’ve already made the plans and sent the invitations. But – more importantly – news of this betrothal will spread quickly. Unless we are seen to publicly embrace it, people will assume we are ashamed of it.”

  “You are,” Frank pointed out.

  She shot him a withering look. “That is for us to know, and them to guess. We are House Inkaya, F’er. Whatever cascades churn below the surface, to the world we must be as tranquil as still waters.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Look, Frank, I really think you need to be honest with your sister,” I said.

  He was hemming and hawing. “I don’t know, Kay. This is going well. They’re buying it and I’m free.”

  “Yeah, but she’s confused as hell.”

  “Why?” Maggie wondered.

  Hell. I hadn’t told her about my full conversation with F’riya. I’d figured there was no sense rehashing that, and risking her jealousy. “Well…she misunderstood a few things Frank had told her when we met. And, uh, she thought…”

  She raised an eyebrow at me. “She thought?”

  “Well, that we were a couple.”

  She frowned. “You should have told me that, Kay. If she thought you were a couple, it would have been more believable for you and Frank to pretend to be betrothed than me and him.”

  “I didn’t know anyone was going to pretend,” I protested.

  “Anyway, everyone believes us just fine,” Frank put in.

  That was true, at least. “I think they’re so horrified by the idea of you marrying a human that they can’t imagine you making it up,” I observed, only half teasing.

  He nodded. “Yeah. Which will buy me a couple of years’ peace, anyway.”

  “Still,” I persisted, “you need to come clean to F’riya.”

  He sighed. “Alright, alright. I will. Before we leave.”

  I shook my head. “Fine. I wish you’d do it sooner, though – and you may not have a chance to wait. Every time she looks at me, I can see the wheels of her head turning.”

  He grinned, acknowledging, “F’riya’s smart, and we talk a lot. You’re right: she may figure it out on her own.”

  He stood now, though. We’d been having an impromptu strategy session in Maggie’s bedroom, before the big betrothal ceremony. “I need to get back to my room, and actually change,” he said. “I’ll see you downstairs.” He winked at her, “Lover.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes. “Don’t make me murder you, Frank.”

  He laughed, and I asked, “Are Kudarians not supposed to touch each other before marriage?” They both seemed surprised by the question, and I hastened to add, “I mean like hugging, holding hands, signs of affection.”

  “No, of course we can. Most betrothed Kudarians take a house together before the wedding, to prove our compatibility.”

  “Well, then, you probably should. The holding hands. Not the taking a house thing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I shrugged. “I mean, you sat on different seats, you made no physical contact, barely looked at each other. And – if they hadn’t been so shocked – they would have noticed it.�
�

  “Oh,” Maggie said, her brow creasing with thought. “I suppose you’re right.”

  Frank shifted in place. “We don’t have to do that,” he said. “You’re doing a lot already, Magdalene.”

  “If we’re going to do it, we might as well make it believable, right?” she said. “And don’t worry about me, Frank: in for a penny, in for a pound.”

  He seemed relieved by her declaration. “You sure?”

  She grinned at him. “Hell yeah. Let’s give them a good show. We’ll be the most in-love couple on the face of the planet.”

  He grinned too. “Alright. Let’s turn some stomachs.”

  And with that, he left.

  “Well,” I decided, “I should probably go change too.”

  “Wait,” Maggie said, “I want to ask you something.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  “Are you okay with this?”

  “With what?”

  “With me pretending to be Frank’s girlfriend. I know I didn’t have a chance to ask you, and…” She rolled her shoulders in a shrug. “I want to make sure you’re okay with it.”

  I smiled at her, wrapping my arms around her neck and letting them rest on those muscular shoulders. “Babe, of course I’m okay with it. You’re helping a friend. And it was probably the only thing, in the circumstance, that would have worked.”

  “So you’re not upset?”

  I leaned in and pecked at her lips. “Of course not.” Then, I drew back, frowning. “And, babe, I’m sorry about not telling you everything F’riya said.”

  It was her turn to smile. “I know why you didn’t. I’ve been acting like a baby.” Her expression sobered. “But I don’t want to be the kind of girlfriend you hesitate to tell things, Kay. I want to be someone you can always trust.”

  I kissed her again, tenderly, slowly. “I do trust you, Mags. I just didn’t talk about it when we were on shore leave.”

  She wrapped her arms around me, and I felt butterflies in the pit of my stomach. There was something about being held in her strong embrace that made me feel at once bulletproof and more vulnerable than I’d ever been. She could have asked anything of me, holding me close like that, those tender green eyes on me; and I wouldn’t have had the willpower to refuse. And her arms around me, the tenderness in her gaze, pushed away everything and everyone else, until there were no other beings or concerns in the cosmos beyond the rhythm of our two beating hearts, the feel of her skin against mine, the smell of her perfume in my nostrils.

  She spoke, and her voice was low and earnest. “I want you to feel comfortable telling me anything, Katherine. It doesn’t matter where or when. I want to be the kind of woman you can trust with anything, anytime.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. I hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings. I’d taken the easy way out, but I shouldn’t have. “I should have told you.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not your fault, babe, it’s mine. And I’m going to do better. I promise. Because I love you, Kay.”

  I smiled at the earnestness in her eyes and tone, my heart beating wildly. I was touched almost beyond words. “I love you too, Maggie.”

  She kissed me now, a long, searing kiss. “After the celebration tonight,” she said as our lips finally parted, “can I come to your room?”

  I grinned at her. “You’d better, Magdalene Landon, after a kiss like that.”

  Frank was waiting on the landing, and he smiled at the sight of us. “Well, sweetheart, you’re certainly going to turn some heads tonight.”

  Maggie was wearing a sleeveless, ankle length silver gown and strappy heels. Her voluminous red hair was drawn back into an elegant, cascading bun. “Too much?”

  “Too much? Gods no. You both look great.”

  She smiled back, glancing me over appreciatively from head to toe. “One of us does, anyway.”

  I flushed. I was wearing a blue ensemble that I’d picked more because it matched the color of my eyes than anything else. Its fit was nice, but not as nice as Mags’. She was stunning from head to toe, whereas I felt more like a grease monkey trying to sneak into a swanky party.

  Now, she took a moment to look Frank over, and whistled. “You certainly clean up nicely yourself, beloved. No wonder I’m marrying you.”

  He did look rather dashing in his keltar. It was a long, multi-layered, belted tunic, designed, it seemed, to emphasize the imposing Kudarian physique. In those black and silver habiliments, he looked a little taller, his shoulders a little broader, than I remembered.

  It wasn’t just the cut of the keltar, though, that was remarkable. The detail work, from the embroidery along the cuffs to the complexly tatted silver fasteners at the collar, was astonishing. I could only imagine how many dozens of hours had gone into creating such an article of clothing.

  He laughed, extending an arm for her. “Shall we?”

  She took it, then extended her other arm for me. “Let’s go lie to your family.”

  He shushed our giggling. “You never know who is around.”

  “Yes, love,” Maggie demurred. “Whatever you say.”

  He pulled a frown, but it was quickly lost to the smirk that overtook his features. “Alright, alright, let’s get this over with before we all blow it.”

  So, trying to pull together an air of solemnity, the three of us walked down the stairs, arm in arm. I let Maggie’s arm go when we neared the first floor, and Frank pulled her a little closer.

  R’ia was the first to notice us, and for half a second, a pained expression flashed across her features. In the next, though, she pushed it aside with a smile. “Ah, there you are. Good: the guests will be arriving soon.”

  She was dressed in a gown cut in a similar style to Frank’s keltar. I was at once reminded of the stone lady in the yard, Grilka. The flowing sleeves and skirt, the tunic-like bodice: it was identical.

  Dre joined her a moment later, glancing us all over and then nodding a forlorn approval. He wore a crimson keltar, trimmed with silvers, that matched his wife’s gown. “The Nikya family will be here,” he told us. Turning to Maggie, he added, “I know you are not familiar with our customs, Magdalene, but please extend a hand of greeting to them before they can do so to you. It is imperative to show that we wish to maintain the peace.”

  “Of course, Dre.”

  He nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Your house is my house,” Maggie said, “its concerns mine.” Frank smiled, wrapping an arm around her.

  They were doing a damned good job acting. Aside from the wicked twinkle that crept into her eyes – and that was only a give-away to those who really knew her – nothing about Maggie’s performance would indicate that she was anything but Frank’s lover.

  And if the evidence of my own eyes hadn’t been enough, the flush of color in his mother’s cheeks and the pallor in his father’s would have been tipoffs in their own rights.

  They bought the ruse, hook, line and sinker.

  Chapter Twelve

  I clutched the stem of a heavy goblet, and tried to project an easy air. The Inkaya home was filling with unfamiliar faces, and while mingling with strangers had never been a strong suit, this was more uncomfortable than usual. At a normal party, I could fade into the background, one of many unfamiliar faces.

  As one of only two humans in the room, I felt like an exhibit at a zoo, or an exotic fish in an aquarium. I was the subject of intense curiosity, and – more than once – unveiled disdain.

  Still, Mags had it worse. She was on the arm of the heir to House Inkaya. She was the human mate of a Kudarian. She was the first human to pledge herself to a member of this house. And, as one elderly Kudarian passing me confided to his companion with a grim shake of the head, “She will bring human blood into House Inkaya. Half-bloods for heirs. It’s a dark day for Dre and R’ia.”

  All other considerations aside, I was glad their marriage was make-believe just so Maggie and Frank wouldn’t be subjected to this for the rest of their lives. Whenever he retur
ned home for good, he could declare the marriage had been called off by mutual accord; and it would be remembered as little more than a passing folly, a mistake he’d been fortunate to escape.

  “Katherine?” a voice sounded to my elbow, and I started.

  I turned to see F’riya standing beside me, regarding me with kind, dark eyes. She was a beautiful woman, with thick, dark hair and a strong, athletic Kudarian frame. She wore the prevailing style of dress I’d seen already, though hers was a remarkable navy blue with silver embellishments. Not for the first time, I was startled to find how much she reminded me of Frank. She was feminine and graceful in a way he would never be, of course. But her visage and manners were much like his. “F’riya,” I said, relieved to find myself addressing an acquaintance among so many gawking strangers.

  “I wanted to apologize, Katherine,” she said, her voice low. “For my assumptions of earlier.”

  I could feel my face flush, and I wished again that Frank had taken his sister into his confidence. “Please don’t worry about it, F’riya.”

  She scanned my face, her own a mask of confusion. “I feel a fool. And I have intruded on your privacy.”

  I extended a hand to her arm. “You were very kind,” I said. “And I appreciate your willingness to warn me. I appreciate that you would offer me your friendship.”

  “I still hope we may be friends,” she said quickly. “That was not only because you were to be my sister.”

  I smiled. “I’d be honored, F’riya.”

  She smiled too. “Thank you, Katherine.”

  “Call me Kay.”

  “Kay,” she nodded.

  “And thank you,” I added, “for standing with Frank earlier.”

  She glanced at me again, her expression inscrutable. “Of course. He is my brother.” For a moment, silence descended between us. Then, she asked, “How long have they been betrothed?”

  “What?”

  “Magdalene and F’er: how long have they been betrothed.”

  “Oh. Uh…um…a few months,” I scrambled. This was a bit of backstory we hadn’t covered.