Risdaverse Tales: Four Risdaverse Novellas

by Dixon, Ruby

  I have now. I merely grunt, tucking that bit of information away. As’bro is ambitious and it might be useful in future dealings with him.

  Ahiri winks at me and then moves to a side door, slipping into a hidden door in the wall. “So we can watch it unobserved.”

  Well, now I’m curious. I follow her inside, taking note that if this chamber has a secret door, they all do, and she’ll be spying on me for the duration of my stay as well.

  “Ready?” she asks, and puts her hand on a carved shutter. When I nod, she pulls it back, revealing a shaded glass. “This is a mirror on the other side, of course. He doesn’t need to know he’s being watched.” And she looks at me expectantly.

  I peer into the room, expecting to see something dreadful.

  Instead, I see…her.

  My heart stops in my chest.

  It’s a delicate female, with pale golden skin instead of the rich blue of my own. She has no horns, and her hair is not long and black and straight like my own, but curling and bright red. She sits on one end of a bed almost as massive as my own, her legs crossed as she stares at the room around her in a slight hint of awe. She’s dressed in an expensive-looking gown made of iridescent silk that shimmers a pale blue to mimic starlight and is all the rage with the nobility this season. The elegant straps of the dress highlight the deep cleavage and rather large breasts down to her curving waist and the small, five-toed bare feet that barely peep out from her rucked up skirts.

  Her nose is tiny, her eyes are brown, and her mouth is a rosy pink.

  I want her.

  “What is she?”

  “That thing? It’s a human.” Ahiri sounds very pleased with herself. “Have you never run into one?”

  I shrug, but I can’t take my eyes off of her. I’ve seen humans in vids before, and I’ve heard that the black markets peddle flesh of such creatures, but this is my first experience with one up close. I had no idea she would be so…perfect.

  “I want it,” I say to Lady dra’Niiron.

  She looks at me, aghast. “You do?”

  I nod. “Have her transferred to my rooms. I will take her as my gift.”

  Ahiri sputters. “What am I supposed to give to As’bro?”

  I take the scroll out of my robes and offer it back to her. “Perhaps he’d like a project.”

  She makes another unhappy noise. “I don’t like this.”

  “Because now I have a penchant for alien flesh?”

  “Varrik—”

  “You don’t have the right to use my name,” I correct her again, my tone quiet but firm.

  Ahiri snaps her mouth shut. “Of course not, Lord va’Rin. If you want the human…thing, she is yours.”

  15

  MILLY

  I scratch at the itchy fabric of my dress and wonder exactly how long I’m going to be left alone in here waiting for my new master. My stomach rumbles, proving that I can be hungry as hell even while I’m terrified. Even though I’m human and these people think I’m some sort of lesser life form, I can put two and two together. I was bought from the slavemaster that kidnapped me from Earth, dragged out of the cage I shared with twenty other human girls, washed up and put in this dress.

  I’ve got a good idea of what’s waiting for me, and it’s not pretty.

  Absently, I tug at the low neckline of the gown, ignoring the insistent growl of my stomach. Maybe this new owner believes in feeding his slaves three meals a day instead of just one. That’d be a nice change. Whoever—whatever—he is, I hope he’s kind.

  I hope he’s not gross. I think of some of the aliens I’ve seen in my short time in outer space and swallow hard.

  Pleaaaase don’t be gross.

  The doors open and I jump to my feet, my heart hammering. I’m so scared I think I might throw up, but I clasp my sweaty hands together and try not to freak out. The blue-skinned man that enters is in a pale yellow tunic and pants and gives me a rather dismissive look.

  “Are you my new owner?” I ask, unable to stand it any longer.

  He gives me an imperious look. “I am the keeper of the upstairs chambers. You will follow me and do not touch anything.”

  Oh. I guess that’s kind of like a butler. I shiver and quickly follow after him as he turns to leave. In a way, I’m glad he’s not my owner. He looks mean and stares at me like I’m a big turd he found on one of the expensive carpets here.

  The guy in yellow leads me down the hall, toward an enormous set of ornate double doors. He knocks, pushes them open, and then bows. “Lord va’Rin, your present has arrived.”

  I hesitate in the doorway, then crane my neck, trying to peer inside.

  “Go in,” the butler hisses at me.

  Right. Okay. I scurry inside, nearly tripping on my voluminous skirts that drag behind me. It’s clear they’ve been made for someone at least a foot taller than me, and they spill onto the carpet around my feet. I pause again, uncertain, and look for the “lord” that I might be given to. There’s a figure by the door, bathed in the light of the setting orange sun, so I hesitantly move toward him. I notice he’s wearing dark blue robes instead of the yellow that the others wear, and his symbols on the hem of his robes look slightly different. His hands are clasped behind his back and there’s a flicking under the back of his robe, and I see the tufted end of a tail next to enormous booted feet. From behind, he’s got the same long, dark hair that the other guy did, pulled into a simple tail that’s tied mid-back, and a massive set of sweeping horns. Same race.

  I don’t know if this guy is my master or if it’s another servant. I’m almost afraid to ask.

  He doesn’t turn to look at me or acknowledge me in any way, so I move to his side and peer out the window, in case my master’s out there on the balcony and I’m somehow missing the obvious. When I don’t see anyone, I look over at him. “Who are you?”

  The man glances over at me. His expression is neutral, his face almost austere. He looks like a man that doesn’t smile often, and for some reason, that makes me sad. His face is sculpted and his cheekbones could be chiseled from rock. He’d be pretty if he didn’t look so bored. “You’re not supposed to ask me that.”

  I think for a moment. He’s not yelling at me or making me feel stupid, so I feel bold enough to answer him. “Why not?”

  He glances over at me again, his eyes hooded. “Because I am the highest-ranking noble here. No one gets to use my name unless I allow it, and if I answer you, it assumes that I am allowing such a thing.”

  “Ah.” I purse my lips. “Well…I hate to be a pain in the ass, but what am I supposed to call you if I can’t ask your name? Is ‘master’ okay?”

  “I haven’t decided,” he says, gazing at me.

  Well, I don’t need to ask if this one really is my new owner. It’s clear that he’s difficult enough that he’s not used to getting along with people. If ever there was a sign of some rich dude owning himself a little human, I guess that’s it. “So…what’s a rich guy like you wanting with a human chick?”

  The guy turns and stares at me with hooded eyes once more, saying nothing.

  I swallow hard. “Right. I can guess.” I pull at the straps of my dress, easing one down over my shoulder. Best to just get this over with so I can stop worrying about it and get on with the worst. The sooner I put it behind me, the better.

  One big hand reaches out and grabs the strap sliding down my shoulder. He carefully eases it back into place, his fingers grazing mine. I notice he’s got curiously soft, velvety skin and that his arm—even though mostly hidden under his sleeve—is corded and powerful. His shoulders are big and I bet under these long robes, he’s a fit guy.

  “Not that,” he says.

  “Um…no?” Maybe I misunderstood the whole “clean her up and dress her pretty” thing.

  “Is it something you wish to do?”

  Oh god, is this a trick question? I lick my dry lips, wondering what the right answer is, and finally decide on the truth. “Not…really?”

 
“Then keep your clothes on.”

  “Okay.” I stare up at him, confused. I’m pretty sure they said I was going to be a slave. The chip I had implanted to help me learn the languages of these strange alien races isn’t always a perfect match, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t misunderstand that part.

  We stare at each other for a long moment. He’s really, really tall and next to him I feel very small and vulnerable.

  “I have to go back to the party,” he murmurs after a long moment. “I’ve been up here too long already. They’ll be looking for me.”

  My stomach rumbles. If there’s a party downstairs, there’s sure to be snacks, and I’m freaking starving. “Can I come?”

  He nods.

  I smile up at him. Maybe this guy and I can learn to get along after all. Maybe he just wants a friend? A buddy? The human equivalent of a cocker spaniel to his noble lordness?

  Whatever it is, I’m not getting attacked just yet, so I’ll take it as a win.

  “Well, friend, you can call me Milly,” I tell him happily.

  16

  VARRIK

  I don’t know why I’ve brought the human to the party.

  Milly. I don’t know why I’ve brought Milly to the party, I correct myself. She’s a person, not a thing. The other lords and ladies here are sure to notice, and that means gossip. I’ve avoided gossip studiously for all of my life, but tonight, it seems I’m courting it. Everyone stares as I move toward the head table, pausing every so often to accept the greetings of lesser lords and ladies. There’s a hierarchy here, and I’m at the top of it, so they bow to me, not the other way around.

  At my side, the human stays close, her skirts dragging on the floor, her bare feet peeping out from underneath. I didn’t realize that she didn’t have shoes, and for a moment, I’m irritated at Ahiri. Why would she not dress the human appropriately? The skirts are too long, the cleavage too deep, and no shoes?

  Of course, I suspect the human was never meant to leave Lord As’bro’s chamber, and the thought fills me with a cold rage. I imagine him over her, rutting, her long skirts hiked up, and I want to break something. Even though I shouldn’t touch her, I put a hand on the human’s shoulder and pull her closer to me.

  Milly looks up, her cheeks full of tiati cake. “Sorry, am I in the way?”

  “You’re fine.” I gesture at one of the servants in yellow livery, indicating they should bring more food and drink for my, ah, guest. I remember how her stomach rumbled, and given that she has no shoes, it’s not a stretch to imagine that it’s been some time since she ate properly. No wonder she was eager to come down to the party. Even now, she stares around her with wonder, and as I watch, she pops another tiati into her mouth, crunching down.

  I try not to wince. At some point, I should tell her that you’re supposed to unwrap it from the crinkly, delicate paper each cake is wrapped in. She’s eating the entire thing, which is sure to make Ahiri and her cohorts titter.

  A servant brings me food and drink, bowing in front of me, his tray too high for Milly to reach. I clear my throat and when he looks up, I tilt my head, silently indicating that the food and drink is for her. The mortified servant stoops, holding the tray as Milly picks at the food, then stuffs it into her hands and pops another crinkling cake into her mouth.

  I make my way to the table emblazoned with my house symbol and seat myself at the head. I should be mingling with the other lords, letting them cozy up to me for approval or favors, and gathering information on those not here…but I don’t have the interest. I’m far more interested in the female at my side.

  I sit, and Milly hesitates, swallowing hard. “Should I sit on the ground, uh, master? I’m guessing I shouldn’t sit in one of the chairs.”

  She’s astute. The chairs are only provided for nobility. Even so, I don’t like the thought of her sitting at my feet like some sort of pet. Milly hovers awkwardly at my side, then starts to sink to the floor.

  “No,” I say, stopping her. I look at one of the hovering servants. “Bring her a stool.”

  A moment later, a footstool is brought and Milly sits down gratefully, oblivious to the fact that I’ve just shown her great favor by letting her sit at my side instead of a few steps behind me. I glance around the room and sure enough, the other lords and ladies have their heads together, whispering, and the only ones not staring at us are the dancers in the middle of the floor.

  And for some reason, I’m enjoying myself. I take a glass of farhis wine when a servant offers it and get one for Milly as well. She takes the glass and sips, then makes a dreadful face, and my mouth twitches with amusement.

  “That sip you just took cost hundreds of credits,” I murmur, lifting my glass.

  “I hear water is free,” she mock-whispers to me. “And it tastes much better.”

  I bite back a grin. She’s not afraid to speak her mind. Refreshing. I watch her as she stares around us, her gaze on the dancers as she eats more of the dainty cakes that are meant to be sampled, not gorged upon. Her face is lit up with wonder, her pink tongue stealing out to lick an icing-smudged fingertip and my cock grows hard at the sight.

  “What do you think?” I eventually ask, unable to ignore her.

  “Of the party?” She looks around and then leans toward me. “I think I’m the only human here and I probably shouldn’t be here at this party with you, judging from the stares everyone’s sending our way.”

  I nod slowly. “Probably not, but it is too late for such things now.”

  “Me at your side is like having a big wine stain on your sleeve, isn’t it?” Milly questions.

  “Worse,” I say, and then take another sip of the fine farhis. “Two wine stains.”

  She snort-giggles, the sound loud and uncouth and utterly full of amusement, and I’m completely charmed. I’m fascinated by this cake-devouring, giggle-snorting delicate creature. Lady dra’Niiron is probably furious, but I find I don’t care. Let her focus her mating hopes on some other lord. I don’t have to look for Ahiri to know she’s pouting in a corner somewhere, telling others about my “penchant for disgusting alien flesh.” It will be all over gossip circles tomorrow, and the talk of the rest of this too-long keffing party.

  For the first time in a very long time, I don’t care, either. I look over at Milly, who’s licking her thumb, her eyes going wide as the troupe of dancers performs an acrobatic spin. She could have been terrified of me, of this place, of the party. Instead, she sits at my side, talks to me as if she’s allowed such a thing, and eats heartily whereas Lady dra’Niiron would not let herself be seen putting anything but wine near her mouth.

  I’m fascinated by the human. She’s the breath of fresh air I didn’t know I needed.

  * * *

  Some time later, I notice Milly has stopped eating cakes and has returned to drinking the farhis wine. She grimaces with each swallow but drinks with such determination I immediately know what she’s thinking.

  She’s preparing to serve me as she would have served Lord As’bro—in bed. And she wants to be drunk for it.

  I get to my feet. “Come, little Milly. It is time for us to retire.”

  “Right.” She jumps to her feet, smoothing her skirts nervously, and wobbles. She blinks slowly several times, then nods as if to herself. “I’m good. I’m good.”

  “Of course you are.” I still offer my arm, a shocking thing amongst polite mesakkah society. I am the highest-ranking lord. I do not assist anyone.

  But Milly takes it and clings to me for balance, and I lead her out of the boisterous party. As we head out, I see Lady dra’Niiron watching me with narrowed eyes, her mouth pinched with anger. She is a problem I will deal with some other time.

  I lead Milly up the stairs, and she immediately stumbles on her too-long skirts, pitching forward. It happens twice, both times saved by her grip on my arm, before I decide twice is enough. I pick her up, hefting her easily into my arms. She’s very light, this human, and trusting, too. Milly immediately sighs and presses h
er face against my neck, mumbling something sleepily.

  I carry her to my chambers, nod to indicate that my servants should clear out, and then gently lay Milly down in the bed. My bed. I shove a million of the ridiculous pillows aside and tuck her under the blankets, then move to a nearby chair.

  It’s where I’ll be sleeping tonight.

  17

  MILLY

  I wake up after the best night’s sleep I’ve ever had to see my new owner slumped over in a prissy-looking chair, his mouth slightly open as he snores.

  Oh Jesus.

  I sit up in horror, realizing I’m the one in the bed. I’m pretty sure that’s not supposed to happen. After watching all the other horned blue people last night, I realized a few things about them, mostly that they put human aristocracy to shame. They’re snooty as all get out, rigid in their manners, and basically looked at me like my owner had set a monkey at the table with him. I’d downed a lot of the horrible tasting wine because I’d overheard some of the whispers about how depraved he must be, and that freaked me out. If he was depraved, I didn’t want to be sober for any of it. So I got horribly, terribly drunk…

  And it seems I’m in the bed and he’s not. At any other time, I would think it was sweet. Chivalrous, even. Right now though, I’m just terrified he’ll wake up and realize our positions should be reversed and then I’ll get in trouble.

  As quietly as I can, I slide out of the bed and cross the room, tiptoeing out. I manage to shut the door behind me without waking him and move down the hall. Before I can even get to the stairs, someone in a yellow uniform is approaching me, frowning.

  He takes one look at my rumpled hair and wrinkled dress and his expression changes from disapproval to disgust. “Where is your master?”

  “Um, he’s sleeping?” I gesture back at the room. “I thought he shouldn’t be disturbed. I—”

  The butler grabs me by the arm and hauls me along with him. “Come. You can stay with the rest of his servants in their quarters, then.”