"You wiped their superiority complexes right off their faces!" Octavia had giggled. The gentle octopus girl had become Ria's staunch right-hand woman, especially after she had defended her from a tongue lashing, verbal bullying session administered by Gordlin.
Ria had to admit, since the robe incident, the other girls had begun to treat her significantly more cordially, and her opinion had suddenly begun to carry weight in their eyes. She had been able to rally them a little, helping them understand that they could be an encouragement to each other and not merely competition for the king's non-existent affection.
Only the unveiled hatred from Narsia continued, but Ria had bigger fish to fry, so she had taken to ignoring her like a stop sign. The she-bear had to deal with her own issues, she figured.
Every day Ria thanked whatever god happened to be watching over this place for the presence of the sad, yet strangely bubbly Octavia, who contented herself with small, silly pursuits like teaching birds to talk. And yet, an endless, deep tide of homesickness seemed to be washing over her subconscious.
Octavia never spoke about the king or her evenings with him, as Ria had heard some of the others describing their royal trysts. She, herself, made it a policy to avoid listening to such conversations, to the great curiosity of Narsia and Gordlin.
One evening, after dinner, Ria sank into a hammock-like contraption beside one of the fragrant ponds. Filling her lungs with the spicy vapour that made her nostrils tingle pleasantly, she watched the dual sun setting in the darkening lavender sky. It was nothing like Earth's sunsets, she thought, but it held its own unique beauty.
It made her think of Brian again, and she stifled a pang of longing for the familiar, comfortable feeling he had given her. Maybe she had been a fool to choose adventure over his reassuring solidarity. For all she knew, even if the mission had progressed as planned, she would have probably missed him just as much on Mars.
A voice interrupted her musings. It was the Matron. "Ria, you are required at King Xagrun's chambers."
Ria felt her chest constrict. So the time had come. Even without looking up, she knew Narsia's venomous eyes were on her. She decided not to gratify her by meeting her gaze and pretended that she wasn't there. What she really needed now was some kind of support, and the only being she could really trust to give it to her was having treatments done to her soft, pink skin.
Ria extricated herself from the hammock and demurely followed the Matron out into the hallway, where she instructed Ria to go to her room and entered with her as she did so.
Ria watched as the Matron selected a dress for her, mumbling something about it being the king's favourite colour. She handed it to Ria and then turned away to the window while the concubine changed.
In a surprising bout of compassion, masked by affected brusqueness, she said, "Ria, if you please the king it will be well with you and you will live a long and peaceful life in the palace. If you refuse his requests or displease him in any way, you will be branded and banished from the safety of the palace.
"All who see you will know that you are a rebellious concubine who once shared the king's bed, and you will be fair game for any..." she faltered, seemingly unable to finish her sentence, as she was overcome by emotion that Ria had not thought possible for her race. The Matron took a shuddering breath before she continued.
"You have shown yourself to be a respectful and level-headed young alien, if a little feisty and free-spirited, and I would prefer to see you remain than to see you go."
Ria knew exactly what that last cryptic remark meant, and her heart warmed to the crusty old dragon shape-shifter.
"Thank you, Matron," she said softly. And meant it with her whole heart.
She tried to push thoughts of Brian from her mind. She had to make herself a clean slate, a blank page.
Make no comparisons, feel no disappointments. It was a saying Octavia had taught her. Something her people liked to say, which had somehow not been deemed important enough to be included in her culture chip. Personally, Ria considered it quite profound.
As she followed the Matron to the king's chambers, the words echoed in her head. Make no comparisons, feel no disappointments. Make no comparisons, feel no disappointments.
Once again, the journey felt too short for her to prepare herself fully. Before she knew it, she was standing in front of the king's bed where he reclined luxuriously, picking some strange fruit off a gold, leaf-shaped plate and savouring it appreciatively. His torso was bare, and his lower body covered only by the heavy bed covers, his golden scales seeming to glow a little more than usual.
"Anything else I may bring you, your Highness?" the Matron asked, bowing.
"No, Matron, this is sufficient. Leave us now."
Ria wanted to scream, "No! No, Matron! Stay and let's have a talk, all night, about anything in the universe!" and at the same time she felt the same pulsating energy waves, the ones that had radiated from him on the first night she had stood surrounded by these four walls, drawing her in, quickening her pulse, crumbling her defences. She could almost feel her pupils dilating.
Drowning in a sea of physical desire, her mind and heart shrinking in fear and shame and deep sadness, she began to understand Octavia's condition. And he hadn't even touched her yet.
The Matron left, and the door silently shut behind her. The king stared at Ria with that mesmerising gaze she remembered so well, and then, in a move so quick and noiseless that Ria hardly perceived it, he sprang from the bed and stood before her, ripping her dress from neckline to hemline, just as he had done with his own robe only a few weeks before.
Later as she tried to chronicle in her diary the events that unfolded after that, Ria's fingers froze, unable to bring themselves to solidify the memories in black and white. That would have made them too real, too difficult to forget. And the thought of her mother, one day, possibly, reading those words, rent her heart.
She had felt like she was in a storm, buffeted about by raw dominance and raging lust. Her faculties and emotions had completely disengaged themselves and she felt as if she was in the middle of an out of body experience, her flesh responding to his ravishing in ways she had not even imagined possible, filling her with abject shame even as she cried out in violent ecstasy.
It lasted a matter of minutes, each one of which felt like an eternity to Ria and imprinted itself savagely on her psyche. She wanted him to stop and just see her, to acknowledge that she had feelings, and needs, too, and that hers were different to his. But a concubine was not allowed such privileges, her culture chip informed her coldly.
When the dark, sultry tempest abated, Ria rolled away from him, every muscle aching, her head spinning, her heart in shatters. Unbidden and completely against her will, memories of Brian's gentle touch came flooding back to her, his whispered words of undying love and helpless adoration echoing in her mind.
Her ears yearned to hear those words again. As corny as she had thought them to be not so long ago, now they felt like a balm to her soul in the wake of the carnal, animalistic act she had just experienced.
She wanted to stop the tears, but the yawning chasm of emptiness she found herself floating in now, left her as powerless as the storm of the king's desire. The Matron's warning words reverberated in her brain, but there was nothing she could do.
She hadn't really known what to expect or how her threefold self would react, but one feeling was not a surprise to her. She felt like chattel, used when needed and set aside until the next urge arose.
Rising from the bed and drinking from a crystal-clear fountain against the wall near the bed, the king turned back to face her and viewed her smugly, his satisfaction evident in every fibre of his being. "You have pleased me, Ria," he said, indulgently, "I will send a gift to your chambers and I will see you again soon in the future."
Ria made no reply. She didn't trust her voice, or maybe she didn't trust her tongue. The king didn't seem to pick up on her true feelings, as he continued speaking.
&nbs
p; "I see it is true what I have read about your race. Your physical passion is very natural, but I am wondering about your response in the aftermath. The other concubines all lavishly thanked me and congratulated me on my prowess after their first time in my bed. Yet you are silent."
Ria wanted to be sick. She felt like nothing more than a science experiment. She wanted to cut him down to size with a suitably sarcastic response. It was the perfect moment to use something like, "Make no comparisons, feel no disappointments," but she bit her tongue.
"Are those tears, Ria?" he was not letting up, as he moved closer toward her. She stiffened, fearing that she would have to employ her torture survival training for a second time that evening.
"I have told you that you pleased me. Did I not please you?"
He had come to sit beside her on the bed. She drew back and pulled the embroidered cover over her nakedness. "No," she said flatly, losing control of her tongue and waiting in fear for the backlash that didn't come.
"No? Ah, interesting. And tell me, why not?" He sounded more curious than anything else. She felt a strange boldness germinating.
"Where I come from, this act would be viewed on pretty much the same level as prostitution."
She glanced at him, again fearing his response, but all she could see in his glowing, golden eyes was indulgent curiosity.
"So, you are suffering a moral crisis? Intriguing. Then it is true that concubinism is not part of general Earth culture anymore."
He rose, turned away indifferently and tapped on a large silver box at the foot of the bed. It opened, and he pulled out a pale lilac kaftan-like dress, almost the same colour as the dress the Matron had picked out for her. He held it out to her, his manner showing no malice, but neither any warmth or empathy.
"Here, cover yourself with this. Matron will escort you back to your chambers presently."
He left her, and soon she heard water running in what she guessed was his bathroom. She pulled the kaftan over her head and stood up, brushing the tears from her face and trying to comb her dishevelled locks with her fingers.
The door opened, and the Matron entered, her aloof expression firmly back in place. Wordlessly, and intently, she looked Ria up and down, then, seemingly satisfied that her charge had survived relatively unscathed, she turned and nodded towards the doorway. Ria moved towards her, feeling more alone than she ever had in her life, and followed the Matron back to her room.
* * *
The Matron's voice at her door woke Ria the next morning.
"Ria, the king has sent you a gift," she said, her voice revealing no emotion.
"Come in," Ria responded, and the door slid quietly open. Somehow, they had managed to discern what her favourite foods were and the tray the Matron carried in was loaded with all of them.
"Oh! Thank you!" Ria had not expected breakfast in bed, but it seemed a wise move. For all their callous ways, her Dragonesque captors were beginning to display a glimmer of humanity. She had to admit that she would rather not face Narsia and Gordlin just yet. Between the ones blazing jealousy and the other's derogatory comments, she didn't have the stomach for them.
"I see you pleased the king," the Matron commented as she tapped the window until its tint had dimmed enough for the early morning light to filter in and give them a view on the waking city below.
"How do you know?" Ria asked, employing her old trick of keeping her mind busy with mundane things to shut out the memories that shamed her.
"The purple kaftan."
"Aha," Ria said simply, turning her focus to the meal on her lap. A bleep from the door caught her attention.
"Yes?" she enquired.
"King Xagrun summons my lady to the Royal Boardroom in an hour." The flat tones of the lizard butler filtered through the intercom.
Ria didn't want to see King Xagrun, and yet...
"Thank you, butler," she called back, and took a few more mouthfuls from her breakfast tray, before getting herself washed and dressed. The tracker bracelet on her ankle still reminded her that the situation was what she made it, and right now she had to focus on the task at hand.
If the king wished to see her in the boardroom, that could only mean a meeting of some sort. That was where she had been dubbed as Hautian Ambassador.
The thought of busy distraction and possibly more clues to how one could travel back through a wormhole helped her to consign the dark memories of the previous evening into the recesses of mental oblivion.
The butler seemed to hold her in greater respect than usual, although she was at a loss to know why, as she thanked him for escorting her.
It had already become abundantly clear to her that it was not protocol for any concubine or any royal official to tread the halls of the palace unaccompanied. She would have to win the favour of these lizard butlers and the Matron if she was to have any chance of escape when the time came, and she had figured out the tech needed to pull it off.
She took a deep breath before entering the Royal Boardroom, her head held high, her back straight as a ramrod, her face a mask of serene self-containment. She was securely in character for the job awaiting her attention.
"Ah, Ambassador Ria. I have an assignment for you which you and I will work closely together on."
Again, the mixed emotions rose to the surface. She resented the idea of being in his presence, and yet she longed for his nearness, but Ria kept her indifferent facade intact, not allowing either emotion to have its way with her.
"The Onoatiga have informed me that they have found a suitable mate for me. Her name is Venna of Haut, hailing from a planet in the Hautian Galaxy, to which you are my kingdom's newly appointed ambassador, as you are well aware. Thus, you will be involved in the courtship process between myself and Princess Venna."
Ria's stomach tightened involuntarily. She was fighting a physical attraction to this Dragon King, while beating down feelings of guilt mixed with an irrational longing for his affection, and now she had to facilitate his marriage to some alien princess! It was ludicrous, straight out of a fantasy novel! No one would ever believe this! She hardly did, and she was living it. Or dreaming it, only time would tell.
"Of course, your Highness. I am at your service." As the standard subordinate response to a king's command issued from her lips, she wondered at the mysterious ways of providence.
Chapter 5: Blind Date
The expanse of the Hautian galaxy stretched further than the naked eye could see. Swirling masses of light, clouds of iridescent gasses, feisty dwarf stars, and flaming red giants filled the frame composed by the spaceship window that Ria sat staring out of blankly.
The universe was truly a remarkable thing. How many times had she sat looking up at the stars through the telescope Brian had bought her for her 21st birthday, and they had looked very much like the vista spread out before her now. She could never have imagined the worlds that could populate such seemingly empty space.
On her lap lay a painting of the 'delightful Princess Venna of Haut', as one of the rather creepy and now no more anonymous Onoatiga had described her to Ria and King Xagrun.
She was apparently of a superior race which enjoyed total domination of their galaxy. This certainly was something the two would-be lovers had in common, Ria, thought dryly.
The question begging to be asked was: would that be enough of a contact point? As with any interracial marriage, culture was sure to play a major role. Ria had seen enough of that beast rearing its ugly head on planet Earth to know that it was not to be dealt with lightly.
As she stared at the painting, a steady stream of memories and cultural information was discharged to her brainwaves. At first, the day to day customs reminded her a lot of the Japanese culture. The whole never shouting, polite bowing, uber cleanliness, and impeccable good manners thing going on.
But as she delved deeper, they seemed to degenerate into the realm of the ridiculous and superfluous. Almost prissy and elitist. She shook her head and went back to staring at the constantly c
hanging vista of stars in the spaceship which was moving at warp speed.
Her thoughts turned to the wormhole and the unfortunate, or perhaps fortunate, events that had led her to where she now sat. On the one hand, she would much rather have been a free woman, sitting on the Red Planet, even if it was in one of Major Thomson's endless meetings.
On the other hand, the payoff was being able to literally experience the future first hand. Since childhood, she had devoured every bit of fantasy literature and movies and games that she could lay her hands and her eyes on.
Her parents had thought it was a phase, but Ria knew that she was made for the future. She had convinced many of her schoolmates that she had been born in the wrong time, "about a thousand years too early," she would declare confidently to her wide-eyed, pigtailed compatriots.
It was ironic that the unenlightened practice of concubinism would be the price she had to pay for having access to what she believed she was born for.
Despite the warnings from her culture chip that too many questions were taboo, Ria's insatiable curiosity had got the better of her and she had become known jokingly as "Miss Questionnaire", especially in the Royal Laboratory and the Royal Space Travel Centre. In fact, instead of awakening suspicion in her colleagues, she had managed to endear herself and make quite a few friends in the few weeks she had been Ambassador to the Hautian Galaxy.
Although she didn't understand all the science behind Nirda's explanations, she had begun to pick up on solutions the Dragonesque scientists were constantly working to improve on. From combating zero-gravity sickness to radiation protection, to magnetic wave bending, and much, much more.
There were so many things she still wanted to explore and the pile of discarded gadgets in her chambers was crying out to be taken apart and investigated. Her easy, forthright manner had won her not only friends, but access to what the aliens referred to as recycling material, and she was filling volume after volume of thick notebooks with the data she collected and discoveries she made.
Gifted To The Dragon King Page 5