"I don't want to meet him."
Obviously taken back by her statement, Kiana folded her arms over her chest.
"Why not? He is the most powerful man in the sector.” Although Nah'Dara heard her cousin's outrage, she could care less how much pull the man had. She could not very well tell her that she was afraid to meet him.
"You know that I don't like royals."
Kiana scoffed. “Let me remind you that you are a royal."
"Yeah but at least I don't go a round treating my women as if they are things that could be owned."
A laughed bubbled from Kiana. “Who gave you that idea?"
"What? You don't think that I'm smart enough to come up with these things on my own?” Nah'Dara walked to the chair flopping into it. “Besides I thought that it would be in my best interest if I didn't."
"You know, Daddy's going to be mad."
"I don't care. He auctioned me off as if I were a cheap vase."
Kiana walked over and sat on the bed. “It's not like that,” she said gently. “I know Daddy might seem so straight forward, but he means well. And who knows, maybe this great prince is a handsome little devil.” She walked to her nightstand and picked up one of her halo-novels. “Like the ones you read about in here."
Nah'Dara could not help to giggle. That always had her laughing.
"What is so interesting in these anyway?” Nah'Dara rose from the chair. She quickly went to her taking the halo-novel from her hand. The title Dominion Lover flashed across the halo-grid in mid air. She pressed the button so the hero and heroine replaced the title. The hero, Argos Lathan pumped into his mate Talya as she lay beneath him. Her back pillowed by white sand as the water rushed around her.
After pushing the button to end the scene and keep place, Nah'Dara looked to Kiana as she raised a brow.
"How many times have you read it?"
Nah'Dara smiled. “A lot. It's one of my favorites.” She looked down at the book then back at her. “You want to read it?"
Kiana shrugged taking the halo-novel into her hands. “I guess I could. After all, what am I going to be doing for the next couple of weeks while my wedding is being planned?"
"It will give you pointers on the wedding night.” Nah'Dara wiggled her brows. Kiana laughed. Her face turned beet red with embarrassment. Kiana had confided in her that while they were on Timu, she had made love to Lycius in the moon light.
"I don't need any help there. He's very alpha, yet so sweet. I think I'll keep him that way.” Kiana balanced the halo-novel on her fingertips. “What about your warrior? I haven't heard you talk about him."
Oh, Spirit, not about him again. Kiana was so infatuated with the whole dream warrior thing that she constantly asked about him.
Nah'Dara chuckled nervously. “Well, uhh, I haven't seen him in my dreams since that last night."
Kiana honed in. “What last night? You haven't told me about any last night. The last time I heard about him, he had thrown you over his shoulder and you had fainted."
"The term is ‘passed out.’”
Kiana rolled her eyes and scoffed. “'Passed out', ‘fainted'. It's all the same to me.” She sat next the Nah'Dara on the bed. “Now, tell me about this last one.” She pinned her with a hard stare. “Or do I have to look in your dream logs.” The slight smile that tugged the corners of her lips said that she was kidding, but she would do it.
She told her about when the grey-eyed warrior stripped her without touching her and had hot steamy sex on the ground in the middle of the woods.
Kiana was so caught up in what she was saying that her mouth hung open. She raised a brow at Nah'Dara. “I hope you didn't faint this time."
Nah'Dara cut her eyes at her. Rolling her head, she replied, “Nope. But it was like a one nightstand. I woke up wanting more, but he wasn't there."
Kiana laughed. “It would be a real treat if he were real.” She growled in feminine prowess. On the outside, Nah'Dara stayed calm and cool but on the inside, she was ready to pounce. Her possessive side tried to claw its way to the surface. The dream warrior was hers, and she did not share.
"Yeah, a real treat. I bet you'd have him tied up in your room before suns down."
Kiana laughed rising from the bed and walked to the door. “You know me so well. I'd eat him alive."
She had changed the subject so that she could get her mind off not going to the banquet. However, it was not working out the way the she wanted. She did not want to talk about her warrior, but it was either that or talking about the banquet that she did not want to go to. The relief was short lived.
"Don't think that you're off the hook. You're still going. I didn't replicate that dress for nothing.” Nah'Dara frowned.
"I don't want—,” she protested but Kiana would not allow her finish.
"I think that you should go, Nahni. Besides, there being more wine than we could possible drink in a life time, we get a chance to meet all those royals coming to get a look at the man that landed the rebellious Lady Lehr."
Nah'Dara had to admit that was pretty enjoyable. She though about what Kiana had just said, as she shook her head. “Kiana, you're such a sythoholic"
Kiana looked at her and made a face.
"I guess I could look at the damn dress since you replicated it.” Putting on a fake sigh, Nah'Dara walked to the wardrobe to pull out the dress. The cut was lower than she would have liked. That was Kiana's style. Show a little cleavage, bat the eyes a little, and every man would be falling at her feet. It did not matter that she was spoken for. It was the attention that she craved.
Nah'Dara spread the dress across her body. She raised her eyebrows unsure if she was going to like the way the dress looked on her hips.
"I wouldn't worry about your body if I were you. That dress is going to look splendid.” Kiana walked behind her, a mischievous look in her eye. “If I had your figure, I would have every guy on their hands and knees begging me to do anything that I ask."
"You sound like Aunt Myal,” Nah'Dara said through a burst of laughter. Her uncle and father's younger sister was always fussing over Nah'Dara as if she were her own child. On many of her visits, she would often comment if she only had Nah'Dara's figure as well as her sense that she has now she would be hell on two legs.
"Well, she's right. You have the figure of a goddess and tonight you are going to dress like one. All that training that you have been through for the past couple of weeks has been for this moment. It's worth it."
Kiana walked towards the door. “I'm going to let you get dressed. Call me if you need my help.” A wave of unease moved over her. Spirit, did she have the strength to pull off her plan?
"Don't worry. Have fun. I know I am. And by the way, ditch the pants."
* * * *
Great Prince Eriq LoMoq sat in the lounging area of his quarters on his interpret class starship Lightspear awaiting word that they were close to Habias. He had been the leader of his squad that infiltrated a band of Cylian on the border when he was contacted by the Altarian Royal government.
His mind was a bank of utter chaos. His stomach was in knots as he drank his cognac in silence. The conversation with his friend Caegan still rang in his ears. The General insisted he meet this woman, as it was long over due. He knew Caegan would never change.
The general had been there at his side when he fought against the Cylians as the invaded their home world. He had been there when he had to bury his wife. His mother and the child he would never know. He had also been there when he was crowned Great Prince of Altaria. Still he was at his side.
The wheels began to turn in Eriq's head as he neared Habias Prime. He was about to meet and marry someone that he absolutely did not know. It felt every bit like the arranged marriage, when he was betrothed to Mireya, his first wife, promised when only children, living in Lethia.
It was a time lost, before he became the Great Prince of Altaria, before when he was just Santar of the house of Tylen. He had been happy. He had been sworn to mar
ry her when he was born; or rather given to his parents.
They had had a happy year of marriage. She happened to have been pregnant with their first child and was expecting her in a few weeks when the Cylian had attached them. She died trying to run with the other women trying to get away from the raiding party. She did not stand a chance. They had murdered them in cold blood with his baby dying with her.
He had been angry. The rage of it all left a bitter taste in his mouth. He set his rage against the Cylians, vowing to stop every last one of them from trying to conquer his system.
Apparently, his mother forgot to tell him something before she died. He was never hers to begin with. He was adopted, learning the truth when he returned from his first assignment.
He was the long lost heir of the Altarian thrown. He met his real mother before her death learning the entire secret. His birth, the product of an affair with the Great Prince of Altaria. After his birth, his mother told her husband because of his silver grey eyes. Eriq was not his son. The man, a great general, was furious. However, because he could not betray his Prince and his wife, he sent the baby away—never to be found.
Yet he had been saved. A small group of nobles found him on the side of the road near death, clothed in nothing but a sheer piece of silk. His new mother and father cared for him, nursed him back to health, and gave him a family. He was a member of the great House of Tylen. He had been happy as Santar Tylen, the son of a rich lord. He had sisters and brothers. Though they were close, he felt different from them.
Eriq glanced at the halo-pic of his wife sitting in a golden encased frame on the shelf near him. He picked it up smoothing his thumb over her face. Often he found himself wishing it had been her skin he stroked instead of the Plexiglas covering. His only problem was he wished he had loved her enough. It was not her death that was eating at him, but something else. It was the fact that he was never as close to her as she was to him.
The grief of looking at her picture was taking a toll on him. It ate at him everyday that he had not been there to save his wife and his child. He wished more than anything that she never died as well as that he happened to have been there to protect them as he had sworn to do.
Thoughts of past dreams that plagued him entered his mind. Mireya's ghost spoke to him from beyond the grave. As she held their dead unborn son, Mireya moaned out to him.
"Eriq, did you not love us? Do you not even care for us? Why didn't you try to save us?” She moaned repeatedly. Her voice came more and more like that of a cry than a ghostly moan. He tried to push the image as far from his mind as he could. He could not stand that guilt that came after.
Lately the dreams were not of Mireya, but of another woman. He called her Nah'Dara. He could not figure out why. The first time that he had seen her, she left the dream before he could do anything. The second had been no better, but that time he had managed to get to her before she passed out on him. The third time though, he managed to manipulate the dream. He needed to know who she was. He pushed mentally with his mind trying to find what he could about her. The only thing that he could find was of a halo-novel romance. He used it bending the dream to his will.
She was not as afraid of him as she had been before. Her eyes had looked to him with amazement and wonder as to how her dreams could change. He did not feel an ounce of regret stripping her of her clothes. The thought of seeing her lovely dark skin, large high breasts with dark exotic nipples, as well as the dark curls hiding the juncture between her legs had him growing hard with each passing moment. He growled, wanting nothing more than to be buried deep within her again.
The communication system sounded overhead interrupting his thoughts. “We are entering the Haledon system, your grace. Do you wish to hail Habias Prime to let them know that you are on your way?"
He stared into space briefly contemplating his decision. Mentally he readied himself to meet this woman and her uncle.
"Yes. Hail them."
He still was not used to names or faces under his rule. This was all new to him, but he would make the best of it. He had asked not to be given a picture of this woman before he met her. Guilt rode with him constantly. He was suddenly grateful for their tradition not to see the wedded partners until the right time. She might already know what he looked like, for that, he did not care.
It was hard enough that the picture of his murdered wife still hung respectfully in his great hall. Every time he passed her picture, his heart broke at their loss. Anger coursed through him because it was at the hands of his enemy. He was not there to protect her. Had he been there for her instead of securing the borders, she might have had a chance. It would be different this time. He would have the time to teach his bride all he knew about defense, if she knew nothing about it already.
He pushed the old wounds away. He wanted to going with his new bride with feelings of good tidings, and not with the lingering of an old love that died a time ago. It was time for him to start over. It was time for him to start fresh with a new life; a life free from hurt and pain, this arrangement might be the key to all of it.
He found himself giving into his hyped imagination and pictured her looks rather easily; so close to the woman in his dreams. She was probably slender, lithe and very agile. She would not be the typical royal, of fancy gowns and starched pose, but of ease and a well-spoken mind. Someone who was not afraid to defend herself, when the time was right.
A chirp sounded on his door before it slid away. Caegan filled the doorway ready for the gala. His long brown hair, pulled back with a simple tie. There was the small amount of stubble he kept on his face as a way to look rugged, dangerous. The general's brown eyes shined mischievously as he looked at his friend.
"Aren't you ready? We'll be there in a few hours.” Caegan looked great. Eriq, on the other hand, preferred not to want to look at the stiff and itchy royal uniform.
"I was preparing.” His friend laughed walking to the small bar requesting a Thax from the replicator. The small machine flashed two tall slender blue glasses filled with the amber liquor and handed one to Eriq.
"Preparing for what? A written invitation? Didn't you want to know what this woman looks like?” Eriq frowned.
"Of course I do, but...” He trailed off. It was too painful still to speak about the guilt that he felt.
"If I know you like I think I do, then it has been a long time since you had anyone. Take it as the government's way of throwing you out there to mingle."
"I don't want to mingle."
"I think that it's a little late for that. Besides, we have to see what this woman looks like. I have a running bet, you know.” That seemed to pull him out of his senses a little.
"A bet?” Caegan smiled sheepishly.
"Yeah. I have a running bet with some of the men on when you're going to bed her.” Eriq coughed. Something definitely went down the wrong pipe. This sounded all too much like the Caegan he knew.
"Why might I ask?” Caegan stood against the bar sipping on his Thax with ease.
"It's been a while for you. Hell, you think that thing will still stand at attention?” He chuckled, but stopped suddenly when Eriq eyed him with a piercing stare. Caegan waved him off. “Don't get your pants in a knot. It was just in good fun. I was betting that you bed her on, oh, about the fifth night together.” Caegan shouted another hoot of laughter.
"Thanks,” His voice oozed sarcasm. Caegan took a big gulp, finishing off the drink.
"I wouldn't worry if I were you. She might be a fox. And then you'll be drooling at her feet.” Eriq seriously doubted that. He was only doing this out of convenience; the alliance with the Notalvian would be a great military strategy. It would add to his manpower. For now, this was like an observation mission. He would keep his feelings in check when meet his new bride.
Chapter 4
Nah'Dara waited for her to be announced to the gala. She stood behind the large mahogany double doors with her hand wrapped snuggly around Kiana's forearm. She was not going to let her
get away right now. No matter how bad she felt at the moment. Her uncle gave her the once over, eyeing the dress that Kiana had replicated for her.
She could smell the scent of his cologne as he leaned in close to her. “That color looks great on you.” Ekkk.
"Thank you.” Her anger was still in an uproar over the last two weeks. She only said two-word sentences to him. She felt she owed him that much. He did manage to find a husband for her saving her father's will while thinking of his precious treaty. Yeah, she was still heated all right.
"Be on your best behavior, Nah'Dara.” She saw the smile that spread across his lips, yet he grasped her arm with just enough pressure to get the point, and she did. His eyes held no more warmth than ice in their brown depths.
She only nodded. She was not going to worry about him too much longer.
The sounding of the trumpets gained her attention. Trenton straightened walking away to the head of the line. She could hear the muffled cadence to announce her uncle as the doors slid open. She watched him step through the door, his back ramrod straight. Before they closed the large doors, she saw him give a deep bow to several men standing behind the long dining table.
Nah'Dara's heart shot into her throat thumping wildly. She had never been so nervous in her life. Her afternoon meal was about to rebel any moment. Kiana turned to look at her, and then groaned.
"Are you okay?” She touched her arm. Gone were the corky comments about the Great Prince. Kiana's green eyes looked at her with concern.
"I think I'm going to be sick.” Theora walked up behind them.
"Nah'Dara, breathe. Don't pass out and Spirit forbid, don't vomit.” It was like Theora to think of only herself. Kiana patted her hand.
"Just breathe.” Kiana did a couple of deep breaths with her. It managed to calm her a little. The thought that she was actually going to meet the Great Prince had her anxiety mounting. She stood behind what she was going to do.
At the announcement of another set of horns, Nah'Dara swallowed her nervousness holding her head high. Kiana gave her a small pat on the back before the doors slid away blinding her with the light from the banquet hall.
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