Page 9 of The Alien I Fell in Love with on Walpurgis Night

“But still, the less you know about me and my work the better.”

“Is that what you always tell me, Axl?”

“Yes,” I say casually, and I can’t help but like the way she says my name.

“And do I listen?”

I cock my head to the side. “Rarely.”

“What is your profession? I should probably know.”

“I work for the government in a flexible capacity.”

“Are you a spy?” she asks excitedly.

“I wouldn’t say ‘spy.’”

“Spy!” she points at me, and I physically lean back a little. I don’t know why she’s having this effect on me, but she’s positively charming.

“What’s your occupation?” I ask, shifting the focus away from my work. “Or what was it before aliens abducted you?”

“I work in a bakery. I like making beautiful cakes for people’s birthdays, but my degree is in accounting. But I want to open my own bakery someday.”

“That kind of work would be forbidden in the Empire.”

“Sounds like such a fun place,” she says sarcastically. “Why did we get married again?”

“I rescued you.”

6

Georgiana

“No offense, but as you can see, I don’t need rescuing and even if you did rescue me, I don’t think that’d mean I’d just marry you out of a sense of obligation. This isn’t the 19th century.”

“But you did. We weren’t on Earth. And I assure you, you did not marry me out of a sense of obligation. Nor would I have wanted such a one-sided arrangement.”

“We need to come up with a more convincing story if you want to win this competition. It’s obvious to anyone who talks to me for more than five minutes that I’m no wallflower.”

“What do you suggest?”

I look up at the old white cabin ceiling. My eyes running along the beams for ideas. “You could have rescued me but then you helped me find a job and we fell in love that way.”

“I can’t think of any job for a human…” he leaves off finishing his sentence.

“Oh there are lots of jobs for people who don’t speak the local languages or know the local culture. I could have been a cleaner, an assistant, anything really that doesn’t require too many skills.”

“The Empire has slaves for that.”

“Oh a world-building society with slavery. I’m sure the billionaires will love that!” I remark mockingly.

“You misunderstand. It’s a class name. They are like living angels and don’t have to clean if they don’t want to. And they can report people for misbehaving and not following the gods’ decrees.”

“Well, if you can make all that world-building, then you can think up a respectable job for me. In this fantasy I want a job. It’s completely unbelievable that I’d just marry you for rescuing me.”

“What are you good at besides baking cakes?” he asks me seriously.

“I’m not bad at business. I have a head for numbers.”

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