by Zara Zenia
Inez looked up nervously, blinking his hazel eyes rapidly. “It will take me another day at least, I suspect, Your Highness.” He sounded genuinely apologetic, albeit inflexible on the matter.
My jaw ticked. I was normally a patient man, but when it came to matters with the potential for so greatly impacting my life, I felt I was justified in being eager to have them resolved. I guess I should have been grateful that they could even fix the damn thing at all, but the entire ordeal was turning out to be a nuisance.
I was polite yet firm. “I will be very grateful if you are able to find any way of speeding this matter up. Now, in the interest of delaying you no further, I’ll leave you to your work.”
“Of course, Your Highness. I understand what is at stake. Let me assure you, we’ll work on nothing else until your scanner is repaired,” Lifiya said, curtsying as I left. Her tone was sincere. I trusted her to get the job done.
Despite her assurances, I felt restless. No matter how hard I tried to satisfy my eager curiosity, I couldn’t stand the wait.
Finding my way back to my private quarters aboard the ship, I took the longest way possible, hoping to pass Amy somewhere along the way. It was a futile effort, however. I assumed she was at work in the kitchens, and despite my desire to go to her, I knew it would be unwise. For one, there was a chance she might not actually be whom the scanner had identified. I didn’t want to expend a substantial amount of effort chasing a dead-end path.
I knew myself well enough to know I was entranced by her, and I doubted my ability to keep my attraction hidden. I didn’t know the other workers in the kitchen, but I didn’t want to introduce her to any undue scrutiny or make matters awkward for her, especially if it turned out that she wasn’t my match. That would just lead to further problems down the road for both of us, and it wasn’t worth the trouble.
Frustrated that we didn’t cross paths, I entered my private training module and took out some of my energy on simulated enemies. Slicing and hammering away at my mock-attackers, I wore myself down to a manageable degree. After a while, I was exhausted and sore, both emotionally and physically.
It had always been considered imperative that, as princes, my brothers and I were trained in the arts of battle and combat. Despite Manzar’s aptitude for battle strategy and his militaristic attitude, I had excelled above the others when it came to fighting ability. Being the oldest and destined as I was to be the High King, I had always borne the brunt of duty, and as such, had perhaps needed an outlet more than the rest.
Suitably exhausted, I called off the exercise and stepped into the cleansing chamber, reveling in the stinging iciness of the water as it flushed through the small space. I held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut as the water pelted me in a refreshing way.
“Vesper,” I said, calling the anthropomorphized onboard computer by name, “pull up the security dossiers Coel forwarded.”
“As you wish, Prince Gardax,” her smooth artificial voice crooned through the speakers.
Naked but for the cloth wrapped at my waist, I spread out on my wide, plush bed, drying in the warm rush of air flowing from overhead. I inhaled a deep sigh of contentedness and allowed my body to relax and succumb to the mattress that morphed perfectly to my shape.
As I relaxed against the pillows, Vesper projected the files in front of me and I began to read, making sure to really study the words displayed before me.
Name: Jessa MacIntyre, 20
Birthplace: Municipality of Sarasota, Province of Florida, Union of Terran Inhabitants
Occupation: Prep Cook
The file was accompanied by a photo of the short blonde woman who had screamed when I came to the kitchens. She was pretty enough, petite and healthy looking. Nothing about her tempted me, though. I skimmed through her background, deciding that I should still educate myself. It felt wrong, but I forced myself to consider the possibility that each of these women stood an equal chance of being my match. I might as well familiarize myself with all of them so that I might have a certain expectation of my future.
I scanned quickly through all six files. Though Amy had promised to find out who else was in the kitchens and I was eager to speak with her again, I decided I didn’t want to wait to find out who the possible candidates might be. Instead, I had Coel search security footage and identify the potential women.
When I got to the last file, my body reacted instantly. My heart pounded. My cheeks flushed with the heat of yearning. My fingertips were numb, and the rest of my body tingled and sizzled.
Name: Amy Allen, 23
Birthplace: Municipality of Omaha, Province of Nebraska, Union of Terran Inhabitants
Occupation: Boulanger/Patissier/Maid
She seemed to have a lot of responsibilities, which struck me as somewhat odd. I scanned through the previous employees, all of whom had only one assignment. Odd. Why was she the only one carrying a heftier load?
I read on, smiling when I saw her contact information. I wondered if it would be weird to reach out to her. Would that be a violation? As her employer and unfamiliar to the rules of human society, I wasn’t sure.
Committing the information to memory, I turned back and started to read her history. My pulse pounded with curiosity.
Family: Parents (Roman and Julia Allen) killed in raids during Transcontinental Conflict of 2092.
So, she had been orphaned at a young age. I sympathized with her situation. My own mother had died when I was eight, while giving birth to Rawklix. The pain we shared made her even more attractive to me.
Reading further, I discovered she had assumed guardianship for her younger sister who was only three years old at the time of their parents’ death. According to her application statement to the New York Provincial Refugee Board, she’d fled with her toddler sister, barely more than a child herself. The bravery and courage she must have had back then were remarkable.
Their parents had apparently been professors in some institution of higher learning but had been targeted for disseminating information about a resistance movement that would eventually win, though not before costing Amy her family and everything she had.
They were executed by a firing squad, with Amy forced to watch along with other family members of the resistance agents. I cringed at the thought of how horrible it must have been for her, unable to look away and forced to stand there and watch her parents take their last breaths.
I didn’t know much about the history of these Earth conflicts, but it was clear they had left a wake of destruction. Their warfare methods, though extremely primitive and poorly calculated, were wildly and incredibly destructive. Such civilian casualties in battle would have been unthinkable to the Trilyn, but apparently, humans tolerated this sort of indiscriminate death and violence as the just cost of war.
I couldn’t help but marvel at her resiliency as I learned that Amy had managed to escape custody and smuggle herself and her sister aboard a train out of the province. The two of them had managed to scrape their way to New York, and once granted refugee status, Amy had immediately gone to work to support herself and her sister.
I took a moment to absorb this information about Amy. My respect for her was growing by the second. She had courage and she wasn’t afraid to hustle against the odds. She was selfless for taking care of her younger sister in such a loving and maternal way.
Her employment was spotty and included a variety of domestic positions. From nanny to housekeeper to cook, she had adapted to whatever position she was able to earn, most of which paid next to nothing. The information didn’t divulge details of how long she’d spent in each position or any reason pointing to why each job hadn’t worked out.
From what I could tell, she was still supporting her younger sister. Reading through everything she’d been through, I was incredibly impressed by her strength and perseverance. Thinking back to my own brothers and how much they had annoyed me when I was thirteen, I could not imagine assuming responsibility for any of them, let alone without any s
upport or resources.
Even as a prince, I wasn’t sure if I could have been up for the challenge to mold into that fatherly and domesticated role. Amy was truly a unique individual.
She had literally raised her sister, provided for and protected her on the sheer strength of her character alone. Her sister was probably too young to even remember their parents. Amy would be all she knew and the only one who’d ever protected and cared for her. Her comments, then, about surviving no matter the cost, came back to me. My own sacrifices suddenly seemed to pale in comparison to what she’d been through, to what she still endured. Her words continued to ripple through me like an earthquake shattering the soil around me.
I returned to her picture, finding myself even more attracted to her now that I knew what she’d overcome, the resiliency of her spirit. The fact that she was not bitter or unkind struck me as well. What must she think of someone like me, who had never gone without, who’d lived in luxury, who’d never been faced with the life or death realities she encountered daily. It was humbling. Suddenly, I felt as if every complaint I’d ever uttered was just a superficial whine and I aimed to now view the world with a new set of more aware and astute eyes.
I would help her.
It was the very least I could do. I couldn’t stand idly by and watch her continue to struggle just to scrape by. She and her sister must be starving with the destitute wages she earns. There must be something I could do as a Trilyn prince to come to her aid.
It struck me then. I respected her, and I wanted to use my privilege to ease her struggles. Even if she wasn’t my mate, and knowing what I now did about her, I desperately hoped she was, but if she wasn’t, I would find a way to improve her situation. It seemed as if she had struggled more than the rest of the women on the list. She deserved better, and I would vow to help her achieve a better life for herself and her sister.
“Sergeant Coel, Your Highness,” Vesper announced, slicing through my thoughts. I had really wandered off there for a minute and had become absorbed in everything Amy.
I sat up as the passage dematerialized.
“Pardon the interruption, Your Highness, but Princes Darbnix and Rawklix have both sent messages. They wish to discuss preparations for the next gathering to be hosted,” he informed me.
Of course, they were. It was rather humorous, how resistant Rawklix had been to the idea initially, until he’d seen the horde of beautiful women who turned out. He’d flipped his opinion like a light switch. I rolled my eyes and rubbed my temples. He was so frustrating sometimes. He only cooperated when it suited him.
I flexed my neck, stretching and considering. “Indeed, I suppose we should get the plans underway. One thing, Coel. I want the kitchen staff to be included in the party. See to it that we fill those positions with temporary workers or make whatever adjustments need to be done, but I want all six of the candidates there,” I instructed him.
I needed to weigh my options, and having all six candidates present would help me ascertain a better idea of who my match might be, even in the absence of my device, for the time being.
“Certainly. And your brothers? Do you wish to conference with them?”
“Yes, set up the remote conference in the Council Room,” I instructed him, standing to dress. I would need to talk to my brothers and discuss the details.
He nodded and left, leaving me once again in the silence of my own thoughts.
I glanced back to the picture of Amy as I pulled clothes on and wondered how long it would be before I knew. The way my skin and other parts heated at the thought of her, I wasn’t sure if I could wait on Inez and Lifiya’s work before I sought her out anyway. The heart often won when it came to choosing a match, and I was afraid I was heading down that same path.
Chapter 8
Amy
I didn’t see Gardax after all, but Viani mentioned she’d had to deliver his lunch to his Council Room, some super-secret squirrel space hidden somewhere in the ship that honestly just added to the sexy aura around him.
I privately imagined meeting him in that cavelike space. I pictured it to be romantically lit. He’d strip me down to nothing, and I’d stand in front of him, naked and exposed, vulnerable and pulsing with desire.
I quickly recovered and dabbed the perspiration off my neck with one of the towels from the kitchen. I needed to snap out of these little mini-fantasies. They weren’t doing me any favors and were just impulsively turning me on in a disruptive way that conflicted with reality.
Of course, the majority of the ship was a mystery to me, so for all I knew, it was a glorified washroom, but according to her, it was pretty high-tech and she’d had to go through a full body scan before being admitted to deliver his tray. I was curious and wanted to explore on my own, but I knew it would never be permitted. I’d never achieve that level of clearance.
Viani said he’d been in conversation with his brothers and upper-level staff about another party. Apparently, Gardax’s brothers hadn’t gotten any leads on their potential mates and so another gathering would need to be held. She hadn’t been able to eavesdrop a substantial amount, but she’d heard enough of the conversation to understand what was going to happen.
I wondered how many of these we were going to host. How many billions of women were there on Earth? The idea of Darla’s tyrannical attitude in the buildup to the last party put an unpleasant knot in my stomach that I tried not to dwell upon.
It was better if I didn’t set myself up for anxiety before the party was even underway. I’d do my best to struggle to remain calm. I’d endured stress like this before. I could encounter it and survive again.
Then again, maybe she’d change her tune now that everyone was on high alert, knowing that one of our ranks could be his future bride. If he so much as looked in the direction of the kitchens, I was certain we’d all know right away, and I hoped the idea was enough to make Darla eke out whatever droplet of decency she had in her. If she were smart, she wouldn’t want to make a scene or cause the prince to become disgruntled in any way. I had a good feeling that she’d be on her best behavior this time around.
Either way, I was terrified and exhilarated at the same time, wondering who he might end up matching with and whether it would be me. My heart pounded when I imagined the device flashing and beeping, lighting up like fireworks when he pointed it to me.
But the mind was terrible at playing tricks on a person, and as quickly as the fantasy would fade, another concept would plunge me back down to reality. I would be devastated at having to watch the scanner pick someone else instead of me. Jealousy rippled through me like a shockwave at the mere thought.
The little persistent voice of self-preservation in the back of my mind urged me to start considering other employment opportunities. I wanted to hold onto the fantasy that it would be me, but nothing was guaranteed. I knew that better than most. I wouldn’t want to stick around here, being Darla’s punching bag if it ended up not being me the scanner chose.
If it wasn’t me, I wasn’t sure I could sit by and watch as he married one of my former coworkers. It would be too much to bear. I’d already witnessed enough pain in my life. I was tired of suffering on account of the situations around me.
Maybe before we had spoken, I could have tolerated it. That was when he was more like a canvas to project my own desires onto, but now that we had met, now that I had a sense of the man behind the fantasy, well, I was beginning to suspect I might be falling in love with him.
At the very least, I was definitely well past infatuation. There was no turning back the hands of time now. We’d already broken the ice and I knew little pieces of his personality. He had been somewhat humanized to me.
On the shuttle ride home, a message came through on my phone that only fanned the flames of my growing crush. The more he engaged me in conversation, the deeper into lust I fell for him.
Have you decided against helping me?
I smiled. No, Your Highness, but I was under the impression that
employees aren’t supposed to just wander away from their work and gossip, even if it’s with their boss.
There are exceptions to every rule, he wrote back almost instantly. My heart fluttered with every sentence from him that I read.
Warmth spread through my whole body. It seemed like an invitation, but to what, I wasn’t sure. He was mischievous and secretive, a saucy trait that made him seem even more tantalizing to me.
Before I could dwell too much on what he meant, he wrote again. I’d like to get to know you better. Starting tomorrow, you’ll be reassigned to my personal staff unit, if that is acceptable to you.
I couldn’t contain my grin and wrote something horribly ineloquent like, Okay.
What else was I supposed to say? I didn’t want to sabotage my own odds and be the reason I failed. Besides, I was still reeling in shock from the amount of attention he’d already given me thus far.
Good. Now, get some rest. I’m told I’m very difficult and unpleasant to work for. His humor and wit were apparent through his words.
Perhaps you’ve just had bad sources? You don’t seem the domineering sort, I quipped back with a playful smile crackling through my facial features.
You’ll just have to find out for yourself – Gardax. It was almost like a dare. I loved every bit of his banter.
I laughed and clutched the phone to my chest, blinking back what felt dangerously like tears. I was in trouble if I didn’t yank myself out of these gleeful clouds.
Rein in the fatal attraction vibes, Amy! He’s just being nice. he’s probably talking to all the workers in the kitchen. I swallowed hard and tried to push the idea out of my mind that he might be sending the very same texts to other female workers in the kitchen, trying to gauge them and feel them out to see which one of us might be his match.