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Alien Prince Charming

Page 10

by Zara Zenia


  How did she even know? I searched my mind for the possibilities.

  I closed my eyes, angry, hurt, overwhelmed. “No. I’m sorry, it was a mistake. I won’t do it again, I promise.” I didn’t have any excuses to give her. It wouldn’t do me any good anyway. I’d been singled out, caught in the act.

  “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood this morning. And you’re lucky he didn’t answer. If he had, I’d have been forced to cut off two of Corinne’s bony little fingers and I just don’t feel like cleaning up that kind of mess today, so don’t push me, Amy. Don’t fucking push me. This is your last warning.”

  Her hostile voice sliced through my heart. My knees buckled, and I crashed to the floor in a heap of despair. How could she be so sadistic and twisted? Was she just bluffing? I didn’t want to test the waters and find out.

  I sat for a long while after, just staring at nothing, seeing only the scarlet red of my own anger and wishing I knew how to use it against her. I would have to brainstorm a way to get back at her. I didn’t even know where to start. I had no idea where she was storing Corinne.

  I imagined her in some dark cell or dank, musty dungeon somewhere. The fury boiled in my blood and burned my skin. I cracked my knuckles. Darla must have had some kind of tracking sensor device placed in my phone to monitor ingoing and outgoing calls. I fumbled with the phone, trying my best to tear it apart, but it was no use. Darla was winning the battle, but I had to find a way to destroy her.

  Chapter 11

  Gardax

  “Your Highness, may I present La’Trisha Theodopolous,” Coel announced with an enthusiastic bellowing voice.

  I yawned before the young lady stepped out from behind Coel’s wide frame. It was early, but I had to get this business over with and move on. Unrest on Erebis was fomenting and I was eager to return soon, but I couldn’t exactly do so empty-handed. I wasn’t interested in any of these women, but I had to appease them nonetheless.

  La’Trisha moved into the room. She was much prettier than her photograph had represented, with a halo of tightly curled coils of black hair and warm, open eyes. Like the others from the afternoon before, she seemed a bundle of nervous excitement. She shifted her weight and stared at me with huge round eyes and an expectant expression.

  I smiled politely and waved her toward a seat opposite me. “Please join me, Ms. Theodopolous.” My demeanor was formal and my tone was professional.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty!” she chirped, her voice colored by a faint rasp. Her cheeks blushed at the direct attention I gave to her.

  I sighed. “I assume you know why you’re here.” I interlocked my fingers and stared at her.

  “Because we might be biologically compatible, yes.” She nodded as if she understood completely but had that dreamy, internal hope that she might be the match.

  “What do you think of it?” I asked. More and more, these meetings were beginning to feel a bit dirty and one-sided. Amy’s disappearance had provoked my reflection on the matter. Beyond wealth, what was I offering? It just made the entire ordeal superficial. These women didn’t want me for my personality. They wanted my wealth and status.

  I needed to know how these women felt about it. It occurred to me that I had made wild assumptions about the fact that, once found, my perfect match would just willingly abandon everything to start a life with me on another planet. I had been forced to reconcile myself to the idea that this process was going to be rather un-romantic, but I’d had time to adjust to the matter. It was a lot to ask of a woman to give up her entire life and family, all for a stranger residing on a different planet across the galaxy.

  She looked at me with confusion. “Think of what, Your Majesty?” Her pouty lips pursed with perplexity.

  “Well, if I turn this scanner on and it says you’re the match for me, do you have any opinion on the subject? Would it frighten you?” I asked, not really sure where I was going with these questions but too tired and frustrated to stop. They had to know what they were getting into, anyway. I might as well raise the subject.

  “Well,” she said, crossing her legs in front of her, “I suppose I’d feel lucky? It’s not every day a girl gets engaged to a prince. But, no, I don’t think it would scare me or else I wouldn’t have come, right?” she asked rhetorically. I couldn’t tell if she was lying or just making something up that she thought I might find appealing and approving.

  “So you’ll have no qualms with the arrangement?” I prodded further with a raised, cynical eyebrow.

  “Can I speak honestly?” she asked. Her voice lowered, and she leaned in closer to me.

  “Please do,” I urged. Honesty was always the best policy, especially in a situation such as this.

  “Well, I guess I would hope we could get to know each other a little better first. No offense, but you’re not sending me any particularly hot vibes right now. While the idea of living in some crazy alien palace sounds awesome, I’d hope there could be some sort of spark to build from,” she said, looking unsure. She was right, of course. Pretty and polite as she may be, I had no gut reaction to our meeting. If anything, I respected her more after her admittance, and she stuck out from the rest by being so forthright in her honesty.

  I nodded. “And if there were none? If I asked you to leave your home and everything you’ve ever known behind and become my bride, my queen, to bear my children and embrace my people, could you do all that, with or without the presence of mutual affection?” I didn’t see how anyone could ever say yes to the questions I posed, especially when they were phrased as bluntly as I had hashed them out.

  La’Trisha looked thoughtful for a moment, surveying the finely furnished room around her with its transparent wall that overlooked the dark depths of space beyond the blue haze of planetary atmosphere. It was as common as seeing a sunset now.

  “Damn, you put a girl on the spot.” She finally laughed, causing me to smile. “I don’t know. I guess I’d have to think about it then.” She shrugged apologetically and blushed again, having difficulty making eye contact with me. She sniffed, and there was an awkward silence.

  “Thank you for your honesty,” I replied. “Well, then, shall we give it a go?” I asked in a peppier voice. I didn’t want to dampen the party of my current company any further.

  “Let’s do it,” she agreed and then, jittery, laughed. “Whew, pressure’s on!” She took a deep breath and leaned back, rubbing the perspiration off her brow.

  I pressed my finger into the gooey identification pad and the device came to life. I set it on the low table between us and waited, both of us staring at it nervously. My heart pounded in my chest, but the air in my lungs felt paralyzed. I didn’t move or flinch. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that La’Trisha was also as still and frozen as a statue.

  Nothing happened, and my pulse picked up suddenly. If it wasn’t her, then that left only two remaining candidates. I waited a second more, but the device did nothing. There were no bells, flashes, or whistles, only silence.

  After a moment, La’Trisha looked up. “I take it we didn’t hit the jackpot.” Her voice sounded mildly disappointed.

  “No, I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “But I appreciate your coming down here and speaking openly with me.” I gave her a regretful smile of chagrin and shook her hand.

  She smiled nonchalantly. “To tell you the truth, I’m a little relieved.” I guess I hadn’t sold the situation or myself very well in the beginning, but it was just as well. I still had only one woman on my mind, and at the moment, she was missing.

  I laughed then. “Please explain, and don’t spare my feelings.” I paused and waited for La’Trisha to elaborate.

  La’Trisha stood, smoothing out the skirt of her uniform. “Everything you described sounds like a lot of pressure. To tell the truth, I hadn’t really thought it through quite that far. I mean, hey, you seem nice, and you’ve got a pretty nice place here, but I’m gonna need a little more to go on. Something tells me,” she said, studying me, “well, it
just seems like your heart’s not in it.”

  “Astute,” I agreed and thanked her as Coel led her out. She’d hit the nail on the head, and I appreciated her honesty about the situation. She wasn’t fake or phony, but she also wasn’t my biological and genetic match. On to the next one.

  After she left, I pulled up the files of my last two candidates. Of course, it had come down to them. On one hand, there was the girl of my dreams, literally. On the other, a woman whose presence I could barely stomach. I didn’t even notice that my hands were shaking. A lot was on the line here, and I had so much riding on what would come of the device and its response to the next candidates.

  The thought of bringing Darla up here after her cloying behavior, her derision, and her insults toward Amy, made me nauseous. I couldn’t even anticipate what I might do if she ended up being my match. Could I deny her anyway?

  I knew it was technically possible she could be my match, but every time I imagined any sort of physical intimacy, it left a foul taste in my mouth and a sense of guilt, like I’d be betraying my own conscience in the process. I had heard now from several employees that she was not the best of supervisors. What would she be like with real power, as my queen? She gave me an unsettled feeling, and that was never a good start.

  Status and position could corrupt even the most modest and humble of souls, and Darla was a far cry from that. Could I sacrifice my integrity for the sake of my people? Would it be worth it in the end? I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut.

  I was worrying over something that had not even happened yet. I didn’t need to focus on any kind of anxiety of the future reaction of the scanner until I stared at the reality of it in the face. Until then, I would just have to ease my churning stomach with the concept that it probably wasn’t going to be Darla as my perfect biological match.

  Coel came in. “Would you like me to summon Mrs. Barnaby?” Even his voice was reluctant.

  That’s right, she was married. Given the way she’d flirted with and behaved around me, I suspected she wouldn’t consider it a particular hurdle. Further argument against her. How would we even assume to take on a role as partners if she already had a spouse? It was enough to make me queasy and concocted a dull migraine in my head.

  I shook my head. “No. Not today.” I couldn’t face it. I didn’t have the stomach for it. It was either that, or unconsciously, I didn’t want to know.

  He looked surprised. “But she’s the last candidate.” He eyed me curiously.

  “Not the last,” I answered. “Gather a team, Coel. I need you to track down Amy Allen. I don’t think I can face the possibility of Darla being my bride until I know, conclusively, that Amy isn’t the one. I . . . I just need to know, for certain.” It was a demand, a direct order. Not even Darla herself could stop me.

  “As you wish, Your Highness,” Coel said, bowing and marching off, the metal click of his armored boots echoing after him. He would never protest against me. He was loyal and respected me as his prince.

  The hours ticked by while I waited for something, some information about Amy’s whereabouts. I tried to read, but every book I picked up seemed to be a love story. I tried to work on state business but every missive I reviewed reminded me that everyone in Erebis, Trilynia itself, was waiting for me to find my bride. I paced the halls, but every corner I rounded, I caught myself hoping to see her. I couldn’t distract myself, no matter how desperately I tried to immerse myself in some kind of engaging activity.

  It was too much. I needed to distract myself, but it seemed impossible since I’d tried to discover every outlet imaginable. Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was Amy’s red hair and her genuine smile. Her gentle laugh tickled my soul. I desperately craved to find her. She had to be the one, but somehow, it just felt too good to be true that the person I had a spiritual connection with would also be my genetic match.

  I went to my training room, forced my attention onto something else, something I could control, something that had nothing to do with Amy. I could allow my thoughts to center and escape in there.

  The simulator spat attackers out at me, one after another. And one after another, I threw myself at them, pouring all of my energy into the fight. I sliced through the bodies of a dozen Durfa warriors, impaled a Yakat feeder, and went hand to hand with three rabid Cretorians. The energy and the fighting were therapeutic but not stimulating enough to keep my thoughts off Amy.

  Their simulated blood and gore dissipated the instant my victory was won, and at the end of the session, I was alone in the vacuous, dark chamber, haunted once more by the thought that Amy might have been my match and I had let her slip away. How could I have made such a crucial mistake?

  I climbed into the cleansing chamber, hoping the shock of water would drive the thoughts from my mind, but as I stood there, water flushing over my skin, I imagined her there with me. It wasn’t hard to conjure a fantasy of what she would look like, what she might feel like. My body hardened in response and I pressed my head to the rounded glass wall, wondering if this was all I’d have of her. I didn’t want to suffer a life with a bride that I had no deep connection with. I wanted Amy, plain and simple.

  “I’ve got an address,” Coel said, coming into my private chamber early the next morning with no preamble.

  I leapt to my feet. “Are you sure it’s hers?” I asked anxiously. My pulse pounded through my ears.

  He nodded. “I got a positive identification from a vagrant who says he’s seen her coming and going from a complex for refugees in the precinct she was last registered in. With your permission, I’ll escort her back to the ship to be presented to Your Highness.” Coel sounded proud of himself for getting this far along the mission requested of him.

  I shook my head, pulling on clothing. “No. Thank you. You’ve done excellent work, but this is one conversation I think I’d prefer to have myself.”

  Coel didn’t argue. As the head of my security, it was not unusual for him to fight me on matters of safety, but as my assistant and friend for the past decade, he also knew well when I was beyond reasoning. It was no use. I would get what I wanted in the end.

  As we climbed into a transport shuttle down to the city, my heart raced. I needed answers, but I was also worried they wouldn’t be the ones I’d hoped for. I had to know. My heart drove me to find out.

  If she was the one and she wanted nothing to do with me, if the life I proposed wasn’t something she could sign on for, I understood. I would respect her wishes. But, one way or another, I was going to get an explanation. I thought at the very least, she owed me that. I could get the closure I needed to move on, but this wasn’t over yet.

  Chapter 12

  Amy

  My toes felt frozen and I woke up to the sensation of being stabbed by a thousand pins and needles in my arm. I had passed out in the same position that I had fallen into when I collapsed onto the sofa-bed. I must have been out cold for hours.

  I tried to shake the sensation off, but it lingered, nerves firing up and down my arm and into my side. My hand trembled as I went to rehydrate my coffee granules. I took a deep breath, but it felt shaky. I was out of my element, feeling loopy and melancholy.

  You can’t keep this up much longer and you know it.

  I was hardly sleeping, barely eating, and spending my time wrapped in a tight coil of worry. Not that self-care was something I’d ever been good about, but this was stretching the limits of what my body could take. But what choice did I have? It wasn’t as if I had any fresh ideas on how to retrieve my sister, safe and sound and in one piece.

  No one had need for an unreferenced refugee domestic worker, and with the stress of knowing money was going to dry up soon along with the constant fear for Corinne’s wellbeing looming over me, it was hard to focus. I was nearing the breaking point. I felt like I was stumbling into brick wall after brick wall with no relief, or no break in the clouds on my destitute horizon.

  Steam drifted in front of my face, carrying with it the di
stinctive smell of sweet caffeine, my only friend these days. I ripped into a pack of cheap salt-crackers and made the most out of the meager meal. I could hardly taste them on my tongue. The only thing I could taste lately was the brink of disaster and the gloomy bleakness of my future. I tried not to let my situation rob me of happiness, but what was there to feel joy about? I was immobilized and stagnant, wishing for a reunion with Corinne that I feared would never come.

  It was the wrong time to think about it, but I couldn’t help remembering all the delicious smells and foods in the kitchens on Gardax’s ship. True, I’d rarely gotten to eat anything there. Darla would have flayed any of us alive for sneaking a bite, but occasionally, something would burn or come out wrong and the staff would get a taste of the good stuff.

  My mouth watered at the memory and my stomach growled. I was creeping into starvation mode. All I had to do was feel my bones poking through my skin and the pang of hunger in my gut to realize that.

  If only it was the food that I missed most, but it wasn’t. Dreams of Gardax invaded even my waking hours—a symptom, perhaps, of the sleep deprivation. Maybe it was just my mind trying to gently nudge me back to a place where I wasn’t teetering on the edge of self-destruction. If I could cloud my mind with fantasy, the vibrant spark inside me would remain alive.

  What passed for my breakfast finished, I got changed and brushed the frizz and tangles out of my hair. I looked into the tiny mirror to redo my braid when my phone went off. I jumped a few inches. I wasn’t expecting the shrill noise to come out of nowhere and pierce the crippling, maddening silence encompassing me.

  Panic flushed through me and I jumped across the room to grab it, sending the brush clattering onto the cold, hard floor. Every time my phone rang, I clung to the desperate hope that it would be Darla, telling me that I could have my sister back. It was far-fetched, but I had to hold onto my resolve of hope.

 

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