Rescued by the Alien Prince: Celestial Mates (The Alva)

by Miranda Martn

  We reach the tunnel and it’s also decorated. This time with painted, rounded designs in bright colors, the intricate work framing the oval shaped lights set into the stone. Then we're through the tunnel and out the other side onto a similar flat plain as before, another compound up ahead. Again, the wall looks to be made of some kind of tan stone, the lights embedded in it also oval like in the tunnel and shining just as brightly.

  In the center of the wall are two open gates. There are men guarding them and more up on top of the wall. There must be a path up there. The wall itself is quite thick.

  As we pass through, the guards bow.

  "My Prince," one of them murmurs.

  My Prince?

  I frown, but wonder if perhaps I'm mistaken or the translation wasn't right. We move forward into a bustling marketplace, the stalls selling a variety of colorful wares. And the people are just as colorful. Literally.

  Purples, blues, reds, yellows. Every color is represented in the lightweight dresses and robes the Alva wear. There are variations in the design, but gauzy fabrics are very popular with the women and longer robes with embroidery seem to be the norm for men.

  The scent of food being sold at the stalls is unusual as well, like an exotic spice I've never encountered. Which I suppose is true.

  I immediately want to touch the clothes in one stall, take a bite of the food at another, see if the tiny jeweled boxes I catch in a corner one have anything inside. But then the people start greeting us again.

  Well, greeting Malathin.

  I simply receive odd looks. I so don't fit in with everyone else here, and the slacks and blouse I'm wearing are the least of the reason why.

  "My Prince."

  "Prince Malathin."

  "Welcome, my Prince."

  The voices are warm, but somewhat guarded as well, but that doesn't matter. It's pretty clear now that we are in Malathin's domain, not Naefaren's.

  "This isn't House Viir?" I ask calmly, not wanting to appear frightened though the surge of adrenaline is real.

  Malathin glances over, his expression distant. Like he isn't even really registering me as a person.

  This is not good.

  "No. It is not. You are in House Saren."

  I swallow as he drives the carriage through the winding streets, the architecture light and pretty around me, but I’m too worried to properly appreciate it.

  We reach a courtyard in front of a building that looks more like a hotel than a house. It's huge, built of the same tan stone the wall was. Very fine, square latticework covers the windows and the towers are thin and delicate, coming to multiple points above the structure. The doors are made of some kind of heavy material and painted a bright orange with a yellow design. They don't shy away from color here, that's for sure.

  Malathin and the other man that came with him both hop off the carriages. With no other choice presenting itself, I grab my bag and follow suit.

  "Come," Malathin says, ordering rather than inviting.

  I don't know what the difference in inflection is, but it's definitely there.

  Silent, I follow him in through the heavy doors.

  We come out into a living area, the delicate couches and chairs done in a bright yellow with lime green accents here and there. Even the wood of the tables and furniture is carved and painted. I wouldn't say it was ugly, but it's definitely very busy.

  "This way," he says, walking down a hall.

  I have the brief thought of not following, but when I look back, the other man is directly behind me. He probably wouldn't let me just walk away.

  Shit.

  I follow Malathin down the hall, coming up with and discarding options. I don't really have any right now.

  We stop in front of a door and Malathin opens it, gesturing for me to go inside. I pause, glancing inside the open door. It's a bedroom. A nice one actually. The furniture has the same intricate carving as the furniture in the living area, but the theme here is variations of green. There's a bed, a sitting area, and a desk, with a plush looking carpet on the floor.

  I look back at Malathin. "You had no intention of taking me to Naefaren or House Viir, did you?"

  He simply stares.

  "You aren’t going to let me go." This time I make it a statement.

  He sneers and gestures for me to go into the room again. With no other choice, I step inside. The door immediately shuts and the lock snicks into place. Standing for a minute, I slowly walk over to the bed and sit down.

  I don't know what's going on, but whatever it is, it isn't good. I can come up with an educated guess based on what I do know. I wasn't hurt or killed. My accommodations are far from terrible. Prince Naefaren is most likely an important person, assuming the title isn't just for show.

  So, assuming Naefaren actually exists, I've been kidnapped because Malathin wants something from my intended match and I'm the unlucky bargaining chip.

  But Naefaren doesn't even know me. And if he shows that he doesn't care what happens to me, I lose all usefulness to Malathin.

  I lay down on the bed, my mind running away with possibilities.

  After a few minutes of indulging in fear, I push it aside.

  No matter what the motive, my goal now is to break out. Who knows when Malathin will decide to get rid of me in a more permanent way or do something else that will make me wish he'd kill me?

  I need to be prepared to take any opportunity that presents itself.

  I close my eyes as I shake my head.

  Just my luck to walk into another dangerous political mess.

  If Naefaren is out there, he better get his ass in gear and come get me.

  6

  Naefaren

  I set down the fine blade after inspecting it. "That is fine. Make certain my commission is to those exact measurements."

  "Yes, my Prince. Thank you."

  "Let me know when it comes in."

  "Of course."

  I nod to the blacksmith and he bows to me.

  Turning, I leave the smithy. There is still much to do today, as there is every day. I am mentally adjusting my schedule and nodding absently at people as I walk through the marketplace when my name is called.

  "Prince Naefaren?"

  I turn around as the young messenger bows to me, his thin face lightly perspired. He holds out a rolled up piece of parchment and I take it, looking at the seal.

  House Saren.

  I look up at the messenger. "Did this just come in?"

  "Yes, my Prince. The House Saren messenger dropped it at the gate and I brought it over straight away."

  I tap the message against my hand and sigh. Probably another complaint.

  "Thank you for your swift service," I say, nodding at the young male.

  He bows deeply before hurrying back to the front gates and his post.

  I turn and resume my journey back to the House Mansion. I am in no particular rush to open the message, so I delay cracking the seal until I am back in my study, sitting behind my desk and unable to justify postponing any longer.

  I break the seal and roll it open, skimming through it quickly, expecting to see the usual complaints against my allies or myself.

  But I have to stop and start again.

  My heart almost stops, my stomach clenching at two sentences.

  I have your matched female.

  Step down as Prince of House Viir or you will never see her.

  I stare at the parchment.

  Taking a deep breath, I read it again, wondering if I have simply misunderstood the message but it remains the same. Panic attempts to sink its unforgiving claws but I fight it off through sheer force of will.

  I need to think on this logically.

  I take a few breaths and my mind restarts.

  The first step is to ensure that Malathin actually has my match. I have no reason to take his word for it, not when he has made his dislike for me so clear. Why would the other Prince know of her arrival on Alva and I would not? The Celestial Mate
s office is in my rakennus, directly outside House Viir's border wall.

  I see no reason why I would not know of a match before anyone else but I cannot rely on those assumptions, no matter how logical.

  Not when my possible Pari could be in danger.

  Rolling up the message, I shove it into my pocket and walk swiftly out of my office and through the doors leading out of the House Mansion, simply nodding at people greeting me but not stopping for anything.

  "I need the swiftest juntta, right now," I call out to the stable master.

  My urgency must be apparent because he simply nods and disappears inside for but a moment, coming out with one already attached to a carriage. It must have been readied for someone else, but I cannot worry about stepping on toes right now. This is one of those times I am completely fine with using my rank as Prince.

  "Thank you," I say as I climb on, flicking the reins. "My apologies to whoever was waiting for this one."

  "I will relay them, my Prince," the stable master reassures me, bowing.

  The juntta is indeed swift, leaving the courtyard and traveling quickly through the road that leads down to the marketplace. Once there, I slow to give people time to clear a path. This section may have been swifter on foot, but the carriage will be faster out in the open.

  I fight through the crowd and then I am riding through the gates, ignoring the shouted questions from the guards as to where I am going. There will be time enough for explanations afterwards.

  The Celestial Mates office is situated half way between the border wall and the tunnel that leads out of the cavern. The small, makeshift building is not made of stone but of some kind of light weight material they were able to assemble quickly.

  I push the juntta and it eagerly covers the distance.

  Coming to an abrupt halt a few yards from the structure, I jump off the carriage and walk swiftly to the door. Not bothering with knocking, I pull it open and step inside.

  "Prince Naefaren!"

  The Celestial Mates representative stands, looking more flustered than usual at my sudden appearance, though his long white hair and light green robe looks to be in place as usual. He seems to always be in a presentable state.

  "Have I been matched with someone?" I demand, having no patience for niceties.

  "Oh, well, I do not believe so," he stammers, stepping back toward his desk and the device they use to keep information on matches. I do not know quite how it works, but I do know that they can look at everything kept inside by simply pushing the keys on the front. "I would have received an alert."

  "Can you check?" I push. This is not a matter I am going to let go without gaining as much certainty as I can.

  "Yes, of course." He sits and his fingers move swiftly. "But I am certain I would have received an alert..." he trails off, frowning at whatever he is seeing.

  "What?" I ask, stepping closer. "What is it?"

  "This is very odd," he murmurs, glancing up at me with worried eyes. "It says here that you did indeed match. With a human female by the name of Ling Richards."

  The blood in my veins turns to ice at this confirmation, my stomach churning. An image of my mate appears in the room. Small and slender, dark hair cut to her shoulders, pale skin, dark eyes tilted up at the outside corners.

  Beautiful.

  I swallow, my throat dry. "Why was I not informed?" I ask harshly. "Where is she?"

  "I do not know why I did not receive an alert," he mutters to himself, making some more clicking sounds. "It looks as though someone actively redirected her route." He looks up. "She went to the office at House Caffaar earlier today."

  Franean's House.

  I turn away with a growl, raking my hands through my hair.

  "She has been taken by my enemies," I snarl. "How could this happen?"

  He shakes his head, his face even paler than usual, eyes worried.

  "I do not know," he says. "Be assured that I am going to look into the matter," he continues firmly, his jaw tightening in anger.

  "That is not going to help me now," I mutter as I stride back out of the office.

  Think.

  I need to think.

  I climb back on the carriage and turn the juntta toward the House gates.

  Should I step down as Prince of House Viir? I cannot simply leave my mate with Malathin. I do not doubt that he is dishonorable enough to kill a vulnerable female for his own ends.

  Or even simply for spite.

  I clench my jaw as I seriously consider stepping down. I do not want to give Malathin what he wants, but if that is the only way to keep my possible Pari safe...

  Even if she is not my Pari, she is still my responsibility. She would not even be here if not for matching with me. And she would certainly not be in Malathin's hands if I had not angered him so.

  I sigh, turning the possibility around in my head and looking at it from all angles. The problem is that stepping down as the head of House Viir would not just affect me. It would affect the House, my people, our allies, and all the change that we have managed to bring about.

  Which is exactly what Malathin and those of his ilk are trying to do. Halt and reverse all the progress we have made while making an example of me to warn anyone who tries to take the same path.

  Stepping down is a last resort option. There are too many people depending on me but perhaps I am thinking about this in the wrong way. I am playing into the choice Malathin has given me—step down or lose my match.

  But those are not my only options.

  I need to go in logical order.

  First, I need to confirm that Malathin is actually holding her at House Saren and the very way to find that out could also be the method for extracting Ling from her prison.

  Ling Richards.

  I have not taken the time to consider her name, too busy fighting the panic at the confirmation that she is in Malathin's hands but as I repeat it to myself, I cannot help but find it beautifully exotic.

  Ling.

  Passing through the gates, I bring the carriage to a halt just inside. A few guards are already waiting. They were obviously preparing to go after me before they realized I was stopping at the Celestial Mates office. Currently, they are trying make it look like they weren’t. I decide not to comment upon it. In truth, I appreciate their concern for my safety, even though it might be inconvenient at times.

  I scan the faces around me and immediately settle on one. "Borraf. Can you accompany me on my journey?"

  "Of course, my Prince," he says without hesitation.

  "Excellent. Follow me."

  Borraf knows how to blend in wherever he goes. I have sent him on more than one delicate mission and he has never failed me. He does not ask where we are going and I wait until we reach the tunnel leading out from our rakennus to bring my carriage to a halt. I do not want word of what is happening to reach House Saren before we do.

  After all, if I have spies in other Houses, I do not doubt there must be some in House Viir. I believe I know who they are. I feed them carefully chosen information to keep them happy and to keep them from suspecting they have been found out. Better to know who my possible enemies are. But this does not mean I am certain I know each and every one.

  Borraf follows suit, stopping his carriage next to me, his expression questioning.

  "We go to House Saren," I tell him. "Malathin is holding my match hostage."

  Borraf's shocked expression quickly gives way to anger. "Of course, my Prince. I will do anything in my power to help you retrieve her. But perhaps a show of force? I know we could overtake House Saren."

  "I do not want to start a war unless strictly necessary. Even victory comes at a price."

  He nods, having felt the sting of battle.

  I continue, "and I do not know for certain yet that she is being held at House Saren. That is why I have brought you with me."

  "How can I help?" he asks, leaning forward.

  I have five people situated in House Saren. More than in the ot
her Houses because I do not trust Malathin. Obviously with good reason. "You need to go to the stall that sells small glass sculptures and tell them this message..." I go through everything that has to happen. If all goes well, the message will reach the person I have placed in Malathin's House Mansion.

  It was too simple for me to buy his people's eyes and ears, especially those who are so close to him. Which tells me he is not well respected or well liked. If he treated his people and his staff well they would be more loyal, a short sighted mistake on his part that I do not hesitate to take advantage of.

  Borraf listens intently, giving me a sharp nod when I finish. "It will be done. Do not worry."

  I clap him on the shoulder, giving him an approving nod. "I have no doubt. Let us be off. I do not want my female to be in Malathin's not so tender care for a moment longer than necessary."

  Borraf nods and we urge our juntta on through the tunnel. The journey seems as though it is slower than usual, though I know it is not. We are pushing the juntta just shy of their limit, cognizant of the fact that we have to make the journey back as well but eventually we reach the tunnel leading to House Saren.

  I bring my carriage to a halt. I must stay out of sight or the plan will be over before it has begun.

  "Stay safe," I call out to Borraf.

  He bows as he rides past, disappearing through the tunnel.

  Now there is nothing left for me to do but wait.

  And hope.

  7

  Ling

  I take some time to look around the room.

  Who knows, maybe there will be an exit sign somewhere and I can make my escape without breaking a sweat. Unfortunately, after a thorough check, I find that isn't the case. The window is latticework, but though it looks delicate and the marketplace outside can be seen through gaps in the design, it has no give when I tug. Apart from that and the door I came in from, there’s no other way out.

  Wonderful.

  I sit down on the bed and take a breath. Alright. There’s no way I'm going to be able to sleep, though I guess that would be productive in its own way. My eyes fall on the package Celestial Mates gave me. That could be a good use of time. Picking it up, I take it over to the small desk in the corner of the room and open it, rifling through what they've included.