by Zara Zenia
“What are you thinking?” she asked him.
“I wonder if that matchmaker is out there,” he said. “Or if she is somewhere living in luxury.”
“It would be luxury, the money I paid her,” Margot answered. “At least for a while.”
“I can guarantee,” Draklan said, “that whatever you paid her, my mother paid her tenfold. Every day, I wake up angry at her.”
“Any news?” Margot said.
“None,” Draklan said. “But sometimes, it takes a while. We will find this person, I promise you.”
“I believe you,” Margot said, looking out over the crowd. “Do you think I could . . . visit the city one day?”
“It's not safe at the moment,” he said, “but it will be soon.”
“Not safe?” she asked.
“Just trust me, Margot,” Draklan said. “I know my kingdom. There is something not right about it. I promise you, you will see the islands and the whole planet one day.”
“I shall paint a masterpiece about it,” she said with a happy sigh. For a second moment that day, she felt peace.
Chapter 8
Draklan
“Good morning,” Margot said to Draklan as she strolled into his room. She did that quite often, partly because they were getting more comfortable with each other and partially to keep up the guise that they had already consummated their marriage, which they hadn't yet. Margot also liked to point out that the view from Draklan's room was better than her own view, which was in an adjacent bedchamber. It wasn't uncommon for princesses to keep separate bedchambers from the princes, even though they were expected to share a bed almost every night.
“Morning,” he said, already up and dressed. He had been up since sunrise, going through paperwork and reports. Now that he was married, Queen Joronna seemed to be making good on her promise, and more reports from the island kingdom came flooding into his box of paperwork. It seemed like endless paperwork, but he knew better than to complain. “How did you sleep?”
“Well,” she said. “But, um . . . I went to breakfast and . . .”
“What happened?” Draklan asked.
“Uh . . .” she said. “Rabbina said something not so kind to me. It's not that big of deal, really.”
“What did she say?” Draklan demanded, already tired of Rabbina’s words.
“She just . . . I don't think she likes that I'm a foreigner,” Margot said. “But I mean . . . I should have expected that some people wouldn't be all right with it.”
“Just because you expected it doesn't mean it's all right,” Draklan said. “Tamarax does have its issues with foreigners, but she should be above that.”
“Well . . .” Margot said. “I mean . . .”
“She's the type of person who will literally find fault with everything,” Draklan said. “Even if you were from Tamarax, she'd have an issue.”
“Yeah?” Margot said hopefully.
“Milinna is from Tamarax,” Draklan pointed out, “and she's never harmed a fly. Rabbina hates her too.”
“I have noticed that,” Margot replied. “I just thought it was because . . . I dunno. Because maybe I wasn't very good at being a princess. Or because I wasn't . . . having heirs.”
“Neither is she,” Draklan pointed out.
“I have a personal question,” Margot said, sitting opposite him. “And I don't want you to take it too personally . . . because I don't mean to insult or wound.”
“Oh?” Now Draklan was curious. “What is it?”
“Is Bhatraz all right?” she said. “Because most of the time, he seems like a perfect prince and then he becomes . . . I dunno. It's like a mask drops.”
“I know exactly what you’re referring to, and I don't take offense,” Draklan said. “My brother hasn’t been the same since my father died.”
“Was he close to him?” Margot asked softly.
“He watched him die,” Draklan said, almost without emotion.
Margot shuddered, gasping. “Oh, my God,” she said, putting a hand to her mouth. “I didn't know.”
“It's ok,” Draklan said. “You had to know these things eventually. My brother always knew that he would inherit, of course, but . . .”
“But not like that.”
“Yeah,” Draklan said, closing his papers completely. “You understand more than you think, Margot. And we are princes, but . . .” His eyes flickered. “We are still beings, the same as those on Earth.”
“You’re a little different,” she said, smiling. “But you’re the same in many ways, actually.”
“Well,” he said after a long moment. “That's enough for this morning. I'm sorry I missed you at breakfast.”
“That's all right,” she said. “What do you have on for today?”
“I have to go see Pralmav,” he said. “For some unknown reason he didn’t deem to share. And then, I have a meeting with the surveillance team.”
She blinked, as if surprised. “About the matchmaker?”
“Possibly,” Draklan said with a nod. “I'll let you know as soon as I do.”
“Do you think . . . do you think that they have found her?” she asked.
“I don't know,” Draklan replied, not wanting to guess what they might have found. “It's possible. Where will you be around three p.m.?”
“I'll make sure I'm inside the building,” she said, “waiting with bated breath.”
“Wonderful,” he said, grinning as he stood up. She was back gazing out the window, and he touched her shoulder gently. “You can stay here if you’d like. It looks like it's going to rain, so if you want to paint from here, you can.”
“Thank you!” she said, lighting up.
“At least I'll know where to find you,” he said, giving her a wink before heading out. We’ve been getting on well, he thought, and he would consider them friends. However, all they were was friends. He thought she was stunning, but he had no idea what she thought of him. If she was interested in him, she was good at hiding it. That or he was terrible at reading it.
Draklan gave the paperwork he was finishing to the footman who was waiting and then headed down the winding hallways to the lab. He was due to meet Pralmav at 10:00 a.m., and he was going to be a few minutes late, based on his watch. Luckily, his brother was not the best at keeping track of time. He didn't even seem to notice when Draklan walked in, nearly seven minutes late.
Pralmav and Milinna were sitting on identical stools, leaning over identical microscopes and talking quietly to each other. Draklan paused to watch for a few moments with a smile on his face. There was so much love between them, but both of them were too shy to even hold hands in public. It was the only marriage that Draklan had actually seen work out.
“Ahem,” he said as their conversation turned to work and he knew that if he didn't interrupt soon, he would never get a word in edgewise. “Brother, you wanted to see me?”
“Yes.” Pralmav turned around, as if he had known that his brother was there the whole time. “You're late.”
“How did you . . .” Draklan sighed. “How do you pay attention to so many things at once?”
“It's his specialty,” Milinna said, turning around. “Draklan, you are always without Margot. What is she up to?”
“I am with her frequently,” Draklan assured his sister-in-law. “She's painting right now, actually, so she's quite content.”
“We should hang some of her paintings in here,” Milinna said, turning to her husband. “Don't you think?”
“We could,” Pralmav said. “If you wish it. Draklan, can you arrange that?”
“Yes, of course,” Draklan said. “But you wanted to see me about something?”
“Yes,” Pralmav said. “The testing that we spoke to you about, on the island, is ready to move to the site there. However, now that you are married and properly in charge, we need your approval.”
“According to Mother, I properly inherit when I have an heir,” Draklan answered, rolling his eyes. “But legally, I think
that I can sign the papers to grant you any permission that you need. Will you both be going?”
“Possibly,” Pralmav said.
Draklan saw something flicker between them. “Is everything all right?” he asked.
“Quite,” Pralmav replied. “So you'll sign the papers?”
“Brother, you didn't need to bring me into a formal meeting to ask me that,” Draklan replied. “You know that you have my permission.”
“Wonderful,” Pralmav said. “Thank you. We don't want to keep you.”
“Yes, I have another meeting,” Draklan said, looking around. “You know, I know what you are both doing is very difficult. But . . . I'm a bit jealous, if I'm honest. I couldn't do your job, but I'm jealous of the circumstances, certainly.”
“We are each graced with our own burdens and our own strengths,” Pralmav said.
Milinna looked at him with shining eyes. “Good luck.”
“Thanks,” Draklan said, feeling like he was always on the move.
His mind was back on the lab when he finally made it to the surveillance team meeting, and he almost didn't tune in to the right thing when they spoke.
“Tariana Drax has been located,” said the head of the security team.
Draklan choked. “I'm sorry?” he asked. “You found her?”
“We did find her,” the security team lead verified. “She lives on Junta and we checked her credentials before anything else.”
Junta was just one planet over and it had a strong Tamarax population. It didn't surprise him that she was over there, but it did surprise him when they continued on about her credentials.
“Her credentials don’t check out. In fact, there was nothing to check out because she had no credentials.”
“What?” Draklan asked. “What do you mean, she had no credentials?”
“She had no credentials,” they repeated. “All her paperwork was false.”
“It was false?” he felt like he was a broken record, but he couldn't believe it. “But surely, this woman has made matches before?”
“She charged a large fee for not much effort, it seemed,” the security team said. “She matches people together as she receives them. From what we could tell of her records that we hacked, she matched you and your wife as you applied at exactly the same time.”
“Wait . . .” Draklan said. “If she had no credentials to arrange a marriage, then she cannot arrange a marriage, nor can she sign the documents that we had her sign before the ceremony, so . . .”
“So your marriage . . .”
“Don't say it,” the prince suddenly snapped, because he knew exactly what it meant.
His marriage was illegal. The documents that the matchmaker would have signed to bring them together weren't real.
He wasn't really married to Margot at all.
“How much do I have to pay you to make this all go away?” Draklan asked after a long moment.
“Your Grace, we are your security team,” one said. “We won't . . .”
“This isn't an official palace job,” Draklan said. “This is off the record. So what would your rate be if you weren't being paid by the palace?”
They looked to each other and then one spoke.
“30,000 credits would suffice, Your Grace.”
“Done,” Draklan said. “Not a word.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” they agreed.
Draklan took out his tablet to make the necessary arrangements. 30,000 credits was a lot less than he anticipated, and he appreciated that they were being reasonable. They didn't particularly care that he seemed to be illegally married, but he knew that his mother could make them care.
He concealed his rage until he left the room. However, once he did, he felt like he was seeing red. What was he supposed to do? Did he tell Margot at the expense of his mother? Did he tell his mother at the expense of Margot?
Draklan had been trained in many matters when he knew he would inherit the islands, and his father had always been strict with his upbringing. But there was never anything that taught him about how to react to something like this.
He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do.
“Well, hello,” he heard a voice say, and he looked up, upset. The last person he wanted to see was Rabbina, and yet there she was. She was, as usual, dressed seductively, and she looked like a wolf who had just found a sheep. “What are you doing here?”
“I'm . . .” he looked up and realized he had walked right into Bhatraz and Rabbina’s section of the palace. “What? Sorry, I didn't mean to come in here.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. “Because Bhatraz isn't here, so you and I could just relax.”
“No,” he said. “I didn't mean to walk in here. I just have a lot on my mind.”
“You can tell me about it.” Rabbina sat down on the couch and patted the seat beside her. “Maybe I can help.”
“You can't,” Draklan said.
She just smiled. “You look good, all broody like that.”
“Yeah . . .” Draklan said and backed away. “I'll be . . . somewhere else.”
He hurried back out the way he’d come. He never knew what to do with Rabbina. He didn't want to be rude to her for fear of what his brother would say. But at the same time, she disgusted him and she was constantly harassing him. He was pretty sure that his entire family was more dysfunctional than all of Margot's planet combined. And he had heard some terrible things about Earth.
“Draklan,” he heard his mother say as he tried to walk down the opposite hallway. It seemed that everywhere he went, there were people. “I haven't seen you all morning. How are you? How is Margot? Do you think she's with child?”
“I'm not sure,” Draklan said. “I don't think we normally know these things too quickly, do we?”
He was trying to act as if everything was normal, and his mother apparently believed him. He had worked hard since his father died at concealing his emotions, and it appeared that it was working because she simply smiled.
“It'll happen, Draklan,” she said. “Just keep trying.”
“Mother.” He was absolutely appalled at her blatant ways.
“What?” she asked, raising her eyebrow. “Did you think it wasn't my business? Of course it's my business. You have to produce an heir.”
“I'm aware,” he said. “And not that I want to lay blame, but my brothers have been married for longer.”
“I have spoken to your brothers,” she said in a way that made him feel like they had gotten it worse than him. “And they are trying as well.”
“Good,” Draklan said, trying to bite his tongue. “I have to go to the lab,” he said at last. It was a complete lie, but the queen didn't know that. “Pralmav needs to meet with me.”
“About what?” Joronna asked.
“His island research facility,” Draklan said. “And I don't want to be late.”
“Of course, Son,” she said with a smile. “You know how it pleases me to see you boys get along.”
“Great,” he said and took off down the hallway at twice the speed he had been walking before. His speed meant that no one else approached him. He knew that he should go see Margot, but he was hoping to put it off for a few moments longer, at least. He actually returned to the lab, hoping to corner Pralmav and have his older brother give him a logical answer for the chaos that was happening.
In the lab, however, he found Margot and realized that he needed to tell her.
“I was just waiting for Milinna,” Margot said. “We were going to have a quick cup of tea before I came to find you. Did you find out about the matchmaker?”
He bit his tongue. He couldn't tell her, even though he knew he should. Joronna would be beyond mad and possibly take his islands away. Margot would never trust him again. There was no easy answer.
He was about to tell her a white lie when there was a clatter behind them.
Both of them spun around to see Milinna standing in the doorway. She looked like she was bringing the
m tea, but it had gone impossibly wrong. Her face was pale and her hands were trembling.
“Sit,” Draklan said, having seen her do this once before. He went over to her. “Milinna . . .”
“Are you ok?” Margot asked, completely innocent of what was about to happen. “Milinna?”
The older Princess tried to take a step forward, but anything left in her strength completely left her. Draklan moved forward to grab her as she fainted, and the tea set went smashing to the ground.
“Oh, my God!” Margot cried as she reached forward to grab her sister-in-law's hand.
Draklan grunted as the dead weight hit him, but he managed to make sure that she didn’t hit the ground. Instead, he eased her down until both of them were sitting on the floor.
Milinna didn’t completely black out, although Draklan thought it would have been better. She began to tremble in pain, her silver hair falling over her slim shoulders as she winced and then cried out.
“Hey.” Draklan grabbed her face. “Milinna. What do I do? Tell me what to do.”
She muttered to him in Tamaraxian, but even Margot understood that she needed some sort of medication. Before either of them could find it, however, Pralmav came into the room. His face went from serenity to terror before he leapt into action. Before Margot or Draklan could even properly process a thought, Pralmav had found a syringe, filled it up, and pulled up his wife's sleeve. She had a medical device implanted in her arm, which he injected the syringe into. Margot had never seen anything like it, but she could tell that it helped right away. Color returned to Milinna's face, and the young scientist soon began to breathe normally.
“There we go,” Pralmav said at last, sitting back on his haunches.
The way he approached things so calmly told Margot that this was a common occurrence, which broke her heart. She remembered her husband telling her that whatever was wrong with Milinna was because of the scientific work they did. Milinna seemed to hold no ill will toward her husband for any of this. She simply smiled at him, grateful that he had helped her.
“Just stay seated for a bit.”
“Is there anything we can do?” Draklan asked.