Whereas her home with Ualan was all fire, marble, and fur, Zoran and Pia’s wing was constructed with a wood finish, giving the place an oriental lodge feel. Olek and Nadja’s home had a giant water fountain in the front hall, surrounded by high backed, comfortable chairs and exotic fish tank walls. She didn’t see Yusef and Olena’s section, but she guessed it would be equally marvelous. Yusef was still in the medical ward recovering from his wounds, but she hadn’t heard much else.
In the courtyard, she discovered the palace exterior was of flawless design. From the ground, because of the angle, the windows and balconies adjoined to the royal family’s quarters were undetectable. They had been carved so that even from a distance the palace looked like just another mountain cliff.
Within the surrounding valley, near the festival grounds, a small village resided under the protection of the House of Draig. The smooth rock-lined roads were flat and even, crossing through the village with a military precision of angles. Each building and street looked as if someone cleaned them on a daily basis, and the houses were such that every family prospered. There was no poor district, no clearly defined line between the middle class and poverty. The residents dressed similar—light linen tunics during the day much like the royal family, but minus the dragon crest and finer embroidery.
With the three suns shining overhead, she expected the planet to be hotter than it was. The bright village sported a cool breeze. Outside she was better able to recognize the subtle shifting of time. During the evening hours, when the sky turned to a more brilliant shade of blue-green dusk, the people changed into the more comfortable cotton pull-string pants and shirts. They provided protection from any night chill, which to Morrigan wasn’t much.
She adopted the more comfortable style immediately, having, at the queen’s insistence, ordered more gowns to befit her new station. It was with no small amount of disappointment that Ualan merely grunted when he saw them and turned to seek his own bed.
Morrigan took her meals in the common hall along with the rest of the family. A high alert had been placed on the kitchen staff, and she was informed that meals were a little more stressful because of it. The queen tried to assure her that normally family time was quite enjoyable. The men did not join them often, taking their meals wherever they practiced and strategized.
Morrigan missed Ualan more and more with each passing hour. She wondered how, in such a short time, he had grown to be an important part of her life. Without him, she didn’t feel right. She ached for those wicked words he would whisper to her, the ones that caused her to blush. It was as if a piece of her soul went missing. She felt hollow.
Each night Ualan came back to the house, worn from training with his brothers, or whatever it was he did while he avoided her. He looked at her as if he was surprised to see she was still there in his home. Where else would she go? Then, he would go to his dining table and pore over maps and charts until the wee hours of the morning. Morrigan peeked at them once, but couldn’t read the script or understand their meaning. Not once did he offer to explain them to her.
When she spoke to him, his responses were curt and his actions uniformly more so. He refused to tell her of his plans. Ualan never voluntarily talked, except once to ask after her health when she had a passing moment of dizziness, and then it had been to make sure she was seeing the doctor for her daily checkups. She was. That answer apparently satisfied him, not that he’d show it.
Now, as Morrigan again found herself alone in their home, the loneliness grew worse. If she kept busy, such as shopping with the queen, or eating in the hall surrounded by others, she could pretend she belonged in this world. That is why when Pia invited her to spend the evening learning to defend herself, Morrigan had readily agreed. Anything was better than being alone—even if that meant letting Pia beat on her.
The queen was only too happy with the plan and instructed Morrigan to get a dirk from her husband’s closet. Looking at the array of weaponry, she wasn’t sure which knife was the dirk. So, instead, she chose one for the prettiness of the hilt rather than the deadliness of the blade. Smiling sadly, she strapped it to her waist.
If anything, Morrigan thought wryly, I can learn how to physically beat my husband into submission.
The idea had real merit. She wondered if she could take him in a fight.
Probably not.
Unless she sneaked up on him…and he was passed out drunk.
If he kept ignoring her, she just might try anyway.
About to leave, Morrigan paused. Reaching to the back of one of the shelves, she pulled out an old intergalactic communicator. She took the knife from her waist and set it aside before sitting on the floor. Next to her, buried beneath the skirt of one of her hanging gowns, was her bag from the Galaxy Brides’ ship.
Pulling the bag close, she unzipped it with shaking fingers. She hadn’t really looked in her suitcase since before her arrival. For a surreal moment, seeing her clothes was like looking at her old life, a life she’d somehow forgotten. She pulled out a hooded sweatshirt, undergarments and her favorite pair of thick socks that came from a remote Yidie woolie herd farm on the edge of nowhere. Feeling nostalgic, she shook off her boots and slipped her feet into the socks. Before she realized it, she had changed her clothes completely. The bra felt different than the built in bustier of her Draig shirts and her panties were oddly constricting on her hips.
Morrigan shivered violently. Tears threatened. It didn’t matter how full she tried to make her days, she couldn’t deny she felt very much alone. She had tried not to think about it. But now, alone in the closet, her insecurities would not be ignored. If Ualan had grown tired of her would he tell her? Was he getting bored with her? Did he no longer desire her now that he had her? Some men needed the chase. Now that she was caught, was the thrill gone? Would he move on to another woman?
Seeing her computer port, she checked its power. The lifecell lit up without a problem. The last article she’d been working on flashed open before her on the loading screen. With a tap, the holographic air screen floated up with the words she had written on the spacecraft. They begged for an ending.
Swallowing, she took up the communicator and stuck her adapter into it. The unit lit up showing that it still worked. With only a minor hesitance, she hit the keys for her editor.
Click. Click.
Morrigan tensed as the signal blinked. For a moment, she considered pulling the plug. But, by the time she moved to end the signal, it was too late.
“Rigan? Rigan?” came her editor’s gruff male voice. Gus sounded worried. “Rigan, are you there? Damn it, girl. Come in. Rigan!”
Taking a deep breath, she uttered with a nonchalant tone she did not so easily feel, “At ease, Gus, don’t bust a plastic artery.”
* * *
“Prince Ualan, your presence is requested in communications.”
Ualan looked up from where he held his knife to a young soldier’s throat. Sighing, he tapped the greenknight’s neck, indicating the kill shot. He nodded at Zoran before tossing the blade to him. Zoran caught it with one hand, barely blinking as he turned back around to critique a practice fight.
“What is it?” Ualan asked the tower worker as they crossed from the practice yard to go into one of the palace’s secret tunnels. They walked several feet into the mountain, through the bare passageway, before loading onto an elevator. The young man pushed a button and they began to ascend to the communications tower with lightning speed.
When they were finally alone, the man answered, “Our sensors have picked up a communication signal, my lord.”
“Who hails us?” Ualan watched the metal door slide open. They’d journeyed to the top of the mountain where the communications tower resided within a transparent pyramid. From the bottom of the mountain and from space, the peak was camouflaged to look like the red rock. However, inside, it was as clear as glass.
“No, my lord, it is one of our communicators,” the worker said. “The signal is trying to connect
to the outer galaxy.”
“Have any requests been made to call out?” Ualan knew he hadn’t approved any.
“No, my lord.” The man looked wearily at the prince as he stepped aside to grab an earpiece.
“Whose signal is it?” Ualan asked.
The man swallowed nervously, almost shrinking back into the wall. “It is yours, my lord.”
“Signal is connecting,” another communications worker said from his place in front of a floating screen. He touched it in the air, causing the holographic image to flicker and change.
Ualan’s heart beat hard and slow. The last time he saw his communicator it had been in his closet.
“Close circuit,” he ordered, hooking the earpiece into his ear to listen. He threaded his hands behind his back, and looked up at the sky. Through the solar shielding on the panels, he could see an expanse of stars not visible to the naked eye from on the surface.
“Yes, my lord,” the man said. “Intercepting now.”
The prince ignored the room full of workers as he listened.
“Rigan, are you there? Damn it, girl. Come in. Rigan!”
Ualan stiffened, his jaw tight. He refused to move or show emotion in front of his men. Inside, his stomach turned in on itself. His heart squeezed so hard he thought it might wither. For a moment, he didn’t think she would answer. He hoped she wouldn’t. He was disappointed.
Clear as day, he heard her playful voice say, “At ease, Gus, don’t bust a plastic artery.”
* * *
Morrigan took a deep breath. She didn’t have to wait long for Gus’ lecture.
“What the hell is going on, Rigan?” The man’s tone turned from concern to annoyance. “I send you to do an exclusive story on a royal family, not to get yourself married. I contacted Galaxy Brides and told them I was your uncle. They told me my niece was lucky enough to find a life mate—whatever the fire blazes that means!”
Gus had been married thirteen times. He didn’t believe in life mates. He barely believed in one-year mates.
“Gus,” Morrigan said evenly as she tried to calm him, but his frustration wasn’t vented. She knew he was blowing off steam. The man had been worried about her, though he would be unwilling to admit it.
“What the hell happened? You got the breast enhancement, didn’t you? I told you not to do that. The whole reason you’re good at your job is that you can blend into a crowd. I told you guys can’t help looking at a sexy woman. It’s genetic. I don’t care what kind of alien you are.” Gus wheezed as if pain. “What they do? Carry you off into the sunset like some damned Old Earth fairy tale?”
“Gus, this is no fairy tale,” she interjected, thinking of her unfulfilled body that seemed to ache all the time. Just sitting in the closet, surrounded by Ualan’s clothes made her body shiver and pulse with wicked thoughts. It smelled of him in here, the lingering scent of soap she’d come to recognize on his clothes.
“If anything,” he said, as if he hadn’t heard her, “you should have had them take your breasts off completely until your trip back.”
“Take it easy. Grab a pill, Gus, you’re about to keel over.”
“I’ll take it easy when you tell me what the hell is going on.” The words were followed by a fit of coughing.
Sighing, Morrigan lied, “I’ve got detained. It’s nothing, Gus, just a minor inconvenience.”
It was easier than explaining that she was married and the guy wanted nothing to do with her. Not to mention more diplomatic to her bruised ego and broken heart. She didn’t want Gus knowing her humiliation. She wouldn’t put it past him to bring it up in future conversations to prove a point or win an argument.
Remember that time you didn’t listen to me and got married…
“You got something don’t you, girl,” Gus exclaimed. “I can practically smell the story in your voice. What is it? The virgin trading practice piece you were working on? Did they offer to fix you up?”
“No, they did not. Stop being lewd or I’ll hang up.”
“Easy, girl,” he coughed, hacking viciously. “What’s got your goat?”
“My goat, Gus? You haven’t been gambling with the Slayers on Valex Ten again, have you? I told you they are mind readers.”
There was a long, silent pause. The communications device reeked of guilt.
“Never mind,” she muttered. “I don’t want to hear how you lost another wife to them in poker.”
“She wanted to go,” the man protested.
“Listen,” Morrigan interrupted before he could defend himself further. The old communicators were unstable sometimes and could disconnect at any moment. “I need a favor. I want you to look up the contract I signed with Galaxy Brides. See if they’ve altered it in any way.” She paused. “And see if our galactic lawyers can find any loopholes in it.”
“Loopholes?” Gus asked, understanding dawning in his voice. “You did get married, didn’t you? I was just joking about that. I never thought I would see the day you’d be leaving me, Rigan. Makes a man almost want to cry,” Gus said gruffly. He coughed, refusing to get too much more emotional. “I can tear up your news contract if that’s what you’re asking me. No need for the lawyers. You just tell me you’re happy and I’ll mail the shreds to you myself.” Another throat clearing. “That is after you get me that piece on those barbaric princes. I do have a slot to fill.”
“Damn it, Gus. Put your damned drink down and listen to me. The Galaxy Bride uploads are inaccurate. They’re tricking…they’re not right. It’s like someone just filled in the blanks with guesses, figuring that the women coming here would be too desperate or too stupid to do anything about it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I got married by accident. Galaxy Brides has the uploads all wrong, almost all the tiny details are inaccurate and quite a few of the really important ones.” Morrigan refused to tell him she didn’t actually use the ceremony uploads on her way down. She just assumed they were as poorly done as the rest.
“Do they now,” Gus mused. “This could be interesting. What angle are you going for with it? Poor star reporter gets trapped by primitives—an inside look into marriage by force? Or the evil greed behind intergalactic marriages—what corporations will do to make a few space credits?”
“Slow your wheels,” she broke in. It was good to hear his voice, even if he was frustrating.
“So you’re not married?”
“Only technically by their laws. That is why I need you to get my contract. Use Harcy. He’s fast at retrieval. Tell him I’ll clear his Quazer poker debt if he does this for me.”
“So, you’re not leaving the paper?”
“No,” Morrigan said, trying her best to keep the sadness out of her voice. “I am not leaving the chip.”
“I knew it,” Gus exclaimed. “I knew my top girl would never settle down. That is what makes you the best, Rigan. I’d kiss you if you were here. Now, about those princes—”
“I’ll get you a story, Gus. You just do your job and get me the hell off this forsaken planet of barbarians.”
“Will do, girl, will do!”
“Thanks.” Morrigan lifted her finger to end the transmission.
His voice stopped her. “Is he that bad?” There was a pause and a snicker. Morrigan rolled her eyes. Once she got back to the office she would never hear the end of this. “Your husband, I mean?”
“He’s not my husband, Gus. He’s just a lead to a story.” Her tone was dead and the lie left her hollow. It would be better not to think about it. “You know I’ll do anything to get you the story.”
“Damn you’re cruel hearted. I always thought so, now I know. But, for now, why don’t you send me your pictures. I’ll download them and get them ready for copy.”
Morrigan froze, hating how many lies she had to tell, “The camera’s broken. I’m trying to repair it but it might be unusable.”
“What? I should leave you there for that. Do you know how much I paid—?”
“
Stow it, you owe me at least that. Besides the camera was ten years old and I bought it myself. Now come and get me you stubborn—”
“I’m on it,” he grumbled. “Call me back in two days. Can you have the story by then?”
“Sure,” she mumbled. “Oh, and Gus?”
“Sure, girl, what is it?” His words were softer.
“I’m never taking another undercover assignment like this again. I expect a hard news piece when I get back.” Morrigan hit the button, breaking the communication. A stabbing pain pierced her heart and she began to sob.
* * *
Ualan handed the earpiece to the watching tech. He had listened to his wife’s voice in silence. He was an inconvenience to her, a way to get her story. What had he done to deserve this? The gods had indeed cursed him.
“She called her uncle,” he lied. “I will speak to my wife. She won’t be making unauthorized communications again.”
“Yes, my lord,” the men answered in unison, taking the prince at his word.
Chapter 26
Morrigan was drunk.
No, that wasn’t true. She had hit drunk and surpassed it about an hour ago. Stumbling back to the liquor cabinet, she studied the line of remaining bottles. It was hard to see them in the dim torchlight. The overhead lights had spoiled her solitary mood, so she closed the curtains and pretended it was night. Opened containers spread about her on the floor and table. Corks and ties littered the floor. Glasses were scattered about with strangely mixed concoctions swirling beneath their rims, attesting to her hours of experimentation. They’d been abandoned on the tables, chairs and floor. A couple even led into the bathroom door.
Taking a particularly attractive purple bottle, she stuck it beneath her arm and grabbed an ugly red one to go with it. Stumbling back to a clearing within the field of half-drunken glasses, she slumped to the floor. Taking her last clean cup, she pulled the cork from the purple and poured. Then, tossing the cork aside because trying to aim it back into its hole was too hard, she studied the red bottle. Twisting the cap, the red soon joined the purple. It clumped like mud but she was too far gone to care.
Dragon Lords Books 1 - 4 Box Set: Anniversary Edition Page 22