Conquering His Queen: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance (Zalaryn Conquerors Book 1) Page 11

  I’m not sure how I’m going to handle the evacuations, how we will set up the new Zalaryn colony.

  Before, those seemed like insurmountable problems.

  Now, in the comfort of my mate, Bryn’s soft body pressed against mine, limp from the exertions of bonding—it seems like a minor annoyance at worst.

  If we have to leave this planet, I will find a safe place for us. If she refuses to leave her planet, then I will stay here, too. I don’t care if we are not supposed to take human mates in the new colony. Who’s going to stop me? There are few creatures in the universe more dangerous than a Zalaryn male fighting for his bonded mate.

  One thing’s for sure: I’m not going back to the dungeons below the Zalaryn Imperial Palace.

  I’m not going anywhere without Bryn.

  There is a knock at my door, and I recognize the light tapping at once. It’s Stelly. She is my serving girl, true, but also my best friend. She’s been with me for as long as I can remember, and I grew up closer to her than to any other girl of my station. Except my sister, of course.

  “Come in,” I say. Vano is out supervising the evacuations. I know he means well, but I can’t get a horrifyingly pessimistic thought out of my head: What if he’s purposefully using the fear of the Rulmek to get us to evacuate? It makes his job a lot easier if half of us humans leave Lekyo Prime of our own accord—puts him one step closer to becoming the supreme leader of a pure Zalaryn colony.

  And where does that leave me? He said that we are now bonded mates, our fates forever intertwined. I definitely felt something yesterday when we mated, as he calls it. But he is not supposed to take a human female as a mate. I don’t know Zalaryn customs—can a bonded mate be set aside if the law demands it? Or does their law make exceptions and accommodations for love? Or bonding or whatever they call it.

  Stelly steps into my room holding a small piece of parchment. “For you,” she says. “From the Astronomer.” She hands it to me, and I quickly scan the contents of the letter. He will bring what I asked for.

  The three letters I delivered after the council meeting yesterday were all part of Vano’s plan to find the stable boy’s murderer and my would-be poisoner.

  The letter I gave to the Astronomer asked for a sleeping draught to be brought to my rooms tonight. One just like you made for my father, it said, but please do not mention it to anyone, as I do not want to appear infirm.

  The letter I gave to Stine asked for a particular vintage of wine that my father liked. These Zalaryns have no taste for wine, and I do miss having a cup by the fire before bed. But please do not mention it to anyone, as I do not want to appear as if I drink too heavily.

  The letter for Yar asked him to get me a bottle of sweet-cane nectar, my favorite drink as a child. I think I’m pregnant and have a fierce craving for it, but don’t tell anyone before I know for sure.

  All three of the men, enticed to bring me a beverage of some sort and begged to keep it a secret. I argued with Vano that it was too easy, that the poisoner would be suspicious of such a perfect opportunity. “If the poisoner was smart,” Vano had countered through gritted teeth, “he wouldn’t be trying to kill my Queen.”

  “Thank you, Stelly,” I say. I hand the parchment back to her. “Please put this into the fire.”

  She does as I ask, and the flames jump for a split second as they consume the note.

  “When will you evacuate?”

  “The ship I am assigned leaves in two days,” Stelly says. “They tell us we are relocating to Earth.” She casts her eyes down as she speaks, and I know she wishes to say more.

  “What weighs upon you?” I ask.

  “I don’t want to leave,” she says. “I’ve heard bad things about Earth.”

  “Our thrice-great-grandparents were from Earth,” I say. “Think of it like going home.”

  “It doesn’t feel like it,” she says. “And they left Earth for a reason. No sense going back.”

  “I think a lot has changed,” I try to reassure her. “What my grandfather told me was that Earth was decadent, there was too much technology, and people got lazy. Societies were no longer self-reliant. They engaged in degenerate pursuits of the flesh, having numerous casual sex partners and taking mind-altering drugs. And at the same time, people were depressed and anxious and unhealthy. They were like caged dogs going insane, but they didn’t even realize they were in cages. That they had created the cages.”

  “So a group of intrepid founders sailed into the open skies to find a life of simplicity and honest work,” Stelly says sarcastically. “Where family comes first and good moral virtue could be restored. I’ve heard the story a million times. And it’s probably just that: a story. The real founders were probably gamblers who were escaping their debts. I mean, if your life is good, you’re not going to risk it all by flying light-years away to start up a settlement that, in all likelihood, will probably fail, and everyone you know and love will end up dead.”

  “You’re in an uncharacteristically sour mood,” I say.

  “You would be, too,” she snaps. “Maybe I’ll fuck one of those aliens and he’ll let me stay.”

  I am shocked by her foul language and even fouler accusation, but she has been my friend for many years and has earned the right to speak plainly to me. “You do not want to stay if the Rulmek are coming,” I remind her. “And the new Lekyo settlement on Earth will need a kind girl like you.”

  “I bet the Rulmek aren’t even coming,” she says, her voice full of bitter venom. “He’s just saying that to get us to leave.” There it is, my own fear, voiced by my oldest friend.

  “He wants the females to be safe. I told him about my sister, about the last time.”

  “Last time the Rulmek came, they didn’t suck the blood out of our cows. They just came and looted.”

  “Vano says that the market for bovine blood is new, that twelve years ago there was no demand for it.”

  “Well, if Vano says it, then let’s just all believe it without question,” she says. “Let’s not doubt the leader of the band of aliens that invaded our planet. Let’s not question the fact that they are relocating us to Earth. The Zalaryns used to go to Earth to take females for breeding. Maybe they still do. But you probably didn’t even think to check. Because far be it from any of us to doubt the alien who turned our Queen into a sex-slave shill for the Zalaryn race.”

  “Enough,” I shout. My face is red with indignation. “You have the right to speak plainly to me but not to be impudent.”

  “I am sorry I lost my temper,” she says. I notice that she does not apologize for the content of her words.

  “Make sure you are on your ship when scheduled,” I say. “Leave me now.” She hesitates, parts her lips for the briefest of moments, then turns to leave without saying a word.

  - - -

  The first knock comes a few hours later. I have been cooped up in my chambers all afternoon, stewing over Stelly’s words. I rise to answer, and Yar stands in the corridor, a corked bottle of sweet-cane nectar in his hand. I remember those bottles being bigger, but perhaps I have grown—or perhaps the bottle just looks small in Yar’s huge fist.

  “This going to cure your craving, my lady?” he says.

  “Shh,” I say and pull him into the room. “Don’t say anything about cravings. The whole palace will be ablaze with unfounded rumors by sunrise.” I am surprised at how easily I slip into the role of pregnant Queen, yearning for a sweet drink to quench my irrational cravings. How easily I betray the trust of my oldest bodyguard, the man who has pledged his life for mine. I try to tell myself that if he is innocent, Vano’s plan will prove it and no harm will be done. No harm except the doubt, the suspicion that I cast upon my faithful bodyguard. Maybe Stelly was right. Maybe I am just a shill for the Zalaryn race.

  “I didn’t tell a soul, my Queen,” he says. “It’s early yet to be with child, probably just your sweet tooth acting up.”

  “Thank you,” I say. I set the bottle on the table and re
ach for the doorknob. His eyes don’t leave the bottle.

  “Shall I uncork it and pour you a bit?” he asks. So he can watch me die? Or because he is courtly and wishes to serve his Queen? Yar is alone with me more than any one person in the palace. He could have killed me a hundred times already if he was so inclined.

  “I shall have some after dinner,” I say. “Thank you, Yar.” He leaves, his eyes still on the bottle. Or did I imagine that? Damn suspicious Vano. I can’t help being paranoid now. Paranoid of everyone except Vano, I hear Stelly’s voice chastise me in my own head. Because he makes you come, because he lights a fire in your cunt, you turn a blind eye to all he does, a deaf ear to all he says.

  Stine comes next, bearing a bottle of wine. It is the type my father drank and is worth more than three head of cattle.

  “I didn’t know you were particular to wine,” Stine says. He peeks into the room, probably looking to see if Vano is inside. I know he’s jealous of Vano. Of being King, of course—Stine always wanted my hand in marriage. But does Stine wish to bed me, to undress me and thrust like a beast beyond the rift? Does he wish to caress my cheek and recite poetry into my ear? Did he think he would be the one to take my virginity, to claim me, to mark me—to own me? It’s what my father wanted.

  And here I am, betrayer of my father’s dying wish. Owned not by Stine but by an alien invader.

  “I think I just want to be close to my father,” I say. I take the bottle from his hands and set it down. “Thank you for entertaining a foolish girl’s whim. But maybe drinking it will make me a good ruler, like he was.”

  “What you need to rule well is not inside that bottle,” he says. There is a clipped, almost rude cadence to his voice, as if he had to cut off his final thought, which was: What you need to rule is standing right in front of you.

  I send him away, and almost as soon as he leaves, there is another knock. It is the Astronomer this time, and I get the feeling that he wants to be in my chambers even less than I want him there. He gives me a small vial and instructs me to take it right at bedtime, when I am already in bed, because it works fast, within minutes. He leaves before I can thank him. He doesn’t meet my eyes as he speaks. I remember when we visited his study, the note to Erwill Sonnes on his table. The merchant could have approached the Astronomer with an idea to poison me and found a willing and eager co-conspirator.

  And just like that, I have collected the samples. It’s hard to believe that one of these three men would see me dead.

  But I have betrayed their trust anyway. Betrayed my father’s dying wish.

  Just like I have betrayed my own settlement, my own people.

  And for what? Even if Vano is right, we find the poisoner, roust the Rulmek, then what? It only clears the way for the Zalaryns to colonize this planet. No matter what I do, it spells the end of this settlement, the end of what all of my ancestors worked so hard to build.

  I cannot save this settlement. Everything I’ve done has been pointless. Not entirely pointless, a voice speaks up inside my head. It is a kind voice, not the cruel and accusing tone that Stelly took with me. Because you are now the bonded mate of a Zalaryn captain.

  That is true, and it might be the worst part. It proves that Stelly was right. I am the selfish whore that they accuse me of being.

  Everything I’ve done, it was only to save myself.

  The old hag said that the heartsweed tincture would kill in three days. It’s the end of day three, and I sit with Vano in the dining hall. He does not like to feast with the rest of the palace in the evening, preferring to wait until everyone has cleared out before he starts to pick at his plate. He says our foods are too salty, too sweet, too savory. He has the cooks prepare him unseasoned meats and raw vegetables.

  “What of the kecklets?” I ask. After I got the sweet-cane nectar, the wine, and the sleeping draught, Vano fed each sample to a stray kecklet. He found the loathsome creatures in the dank capital alleyways and caged three of them in the palace basement. It’s a test to see who poisoned me: Stine, Yar or Ardal Sunsweeper. If the kecklet who is fed the sweet-cane is the one who dies, then we know the poisoner is Yar. If the kecklet who is fed the wine dies, we know it’s Stine. And if the kecklet who is fed the sleeping draught dies, then we know it’s the Astronomer.

  I was horrified that Vano planned to test the poisons on kecklets, but he laughed at me. “You’re too sweet for your own good,” he had said. “Human life is at stake. You are a primitive race to be sure, but human life is more valuable than a stray kecklet. And it’s not just any life at stake. It’s your life. I’d kill a hundred of those beasts to keep you safe.”

  It bothers me that he says I’m too sweet for my own good. Queens should not be sweet. They should be tough and shrewd. Still, I hate the idea that an innocent animal is going to suffer. I think of what my father would have done. He would have laughed, too, called me soft-hearted and reminded me what soft hearts and hot heads do to civilizations.

  Good thing my father’s not here. I’ve done nothing but betray his wishes and let the planet slip into chaos. Vano is the only one who can save my people—my hot-headed alien mate.

  My father and all my ancestors must surely be spinning in their graves.

  “No change,” Vano says. I can tell he’s upset, impatient.

  “It’s been three days,” I say. “The poison should have worked by now. If anything it should work faster because kecklets are smaller.”

  “Or it works slower because kecklet anatomy is different,” he counters. “Or you were right and our trap was too neatly perfect and caused suspicion.”

  “Or,” I say, my heart beating hard in my chest. I don’t want to upset him. It was easier to challenge him when I thought he was a heartless jerk trying to steal my planet. “Or I was right when I said that none of them are trying to poison me. Maybe they’re trying to poison you.”

  “No one is trying to poison me,” he says, dismissive of any attempt on his life. “It makes no sense. Kill me, fine, but there’s a hundred of my warriors on this planet ready to avenge my death. Kill me and they will show no mercy. But kill you? The traitor? The whore? The Zalaryn puppet? That’s what some of the small-minded humans say about you.”

  “What would be gained by my death?” I say. His words hurt me because I know it’s what my people must think. If Stelly thinks that of me, then the rest of the settlers must, too.

  “Someone who wants your power,” Vano says. “Someone who wants to strike a deal with me. I just hope if it’s Yar, he doesn’t offer up his nude body for my pleasure, the way you did.”

  “This is not a joke,” I say.

  “No, it is not,” he agrees.

  “How was today’s evacuation?” I ask, trying to change the subject. Stelly left today. I never had the chance to talk to her again, to apologize. Or what I really wanted—to hear her apologize. To have her wipe away the accusations, to ease my guilt and calm my own uncertainties.

  “Fine,” he says. “The rest of the ships will be leaving in the next few days.”

  “I went to the marketplace today,” I say. “It was eerie. So many people are gone. Like a ghost town.”

  “You went to the marketplace alone?” he says. He sets down the piece of meat he’s gnawing on, the fork untouched next to his plate.

  “No,” I said. “I had a guard accompany me.”

  “That was foolish,” he said. “It is my fault for leaving you alone, but I was occupied with the evacuations.”

  “It was foolish to leave me alone to my own judgement?”

  “No,” he says. “Because you didn’t use any judgement. Any madman with a knife could stick it in your ribs while you walk the aisles. Your popularity hasn’t increased since you decided to take a Zalaryn for a mate. You cannot go out alone. I command it. And you are still bound to obey me. I should take you over my knee again for going out today.”

  Despite all the worries of the day, the thought of his strong hands lifting me off my feet and bending m
e over his lap to spank me like a wayward child starts a pulsing between my thighs that I can’t control. Damn him and this power he has over my carnal desires. Damn my own flesh for being so weak and unable to resist his touch.

  “I am well aware of what the people think of me,” I say, sitting up straight in my chair. I set down my fork, suddenly not very hungry. “Stelly called me a whore before she left.”

  “I’m sorry,” he says. He pushes his chair closer to mine so he can put his arms around me. His embrace helps melt away the pain of Stelly’s words. He releases me and looks me in the eye. “But you cannot go out unaccompanied. It is not safe. This transition period for your planet is difficult. Your people are being relocated, and those who stay are scared of the Rulmek. They will take it out on you. They think you sleep with the alien captain to save yourself, preserve your silk robes and feather bed and nightly feasts. That you trade your sex to maintain your quality of living.”

  “But…” I protest. This couldn’t be further from the truth. I was just trying to save my people, save my planet, to stop the evacuations. I was willing to trade my body for their safety, to broker a deal with the Zalaryns… But nothing I planned has come to pass.

  Instead of an emotionless exchange of sexual favors, I ended up bonded mate to the alien captain.

  Instead of persuading him to stop evacuations and let humans live alongside the Zalaryns, the evacuations have started even earlier.

  “I know that’s not true,” he says. “You don’t need to convince me—and you really don’t need to convince them.” He sweeps his hands, gesturing to the outside world. “We’re in this together. This is our planet. And we’ll do what’s best for the Zalaryns and humans who live here. And that includes sending away the young women. Once we roust the Rulmek, we can figure out what to do about the humans that were evacuated and those that remain on Lekyo Prime.”

  Did I just hear him correctly? Did he just imply that the humans could stay? That’s too much to hope for, so I do not ask him. If he decides it, he will need to decide it on his own. I cannot pressure him into it.