Page 34 of The Alien's Unwilling Bride

As they took their seats, King Brakus and Queen Erida entered, followed closely by Dravek and, to Mila’s surprise, Zora.

“Hope you don’t mind me crashing the family dinner,” Zora said, her eyes twinkling. “I heard there might be some juicy political drama to dissect. Plus, I couldn’t pass up the chance to see Dravek’s stoic facade crack under the weight of my charm.”

Dravek, who had been in the process of sitting, nearly missed his chair. He recovered quickly, shooting Zora a look that was part exasperation, part intrigue. “I assure you, Lady Zora, my ‘facade’ is quite intact.”

Zora grinned, undeterred. “We’ll see about that. I’ve got all night to work my magic.”

Mila couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s irreverence. “Pull up a chair. There’s plenty of frustration to go around, and apparently some top-notch entertainment.”

As servers began bringing out the first course, conversation flowed around the table. Mila found herself seated between Roq and Raelee with Vex across from them. The king and queen sat at the heads of the table, while Dravek seemed to be doing his best to put as much distance between himself and Zora as possible - a task made difficult by Zora’s determined efforts to engage him in conversation.

“So,” Raelee said, spearing a piece of what looked like glowing purple fruit with her fork, “how exactly did the council justify their complete and utter idiocy?”

“Raelee,” Queen Erida chided gently, but Mila could see the hint of a smile on the older woman’s face.

“What? It’s a valid question. They’re sitting on their hands while the planet is in crisis. If that’s not the definition of idiocy, I don’t know what is.”

Vex placed a hand on Raelee’s arm, his touch visibly calming her. “While I agree the council’s response is... frustrating, we need to approach this strategically. Antagonizing them further won’t help our cause.”

“You’re right, of course,” Raelee sighed, leaning into his touch. “But it would be so satisfying to tell them exactly where they can stick their ‘deliberations.’”

Vex chuckled, his thumb tracing small circles on Raelee’s arm. “Save that fire for our sparring session later. I have a feeling I’m going to need all my skills to keep up with you tonight.”

The heated look that passed between them made Mila suddenly very interested in her plate. She cleared her throat, turning to Roq. “So, um, any ideas on how we can get through to the council? They seemed determined to dismiss everything we said, no matter how much evidence we presented.”

Roq opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a burst of laughter from further down the table. Mila looked over to see Zora gesticulating wildly, apparently in the middle of a story.

“...and then the flower said, ‘Well, that’s not very sage of you!’” Zora finished with a flourish.

There was a moment of silence, then King Brakus let out a booming laugh. “Delightful! I never thought I’d hear plant-based humor at the dinner table.”

Dravek, seated next to Zora, looked like he was trying very hard not to smile. “That was...” he paused, seeming to search for the right word, “unexpectedly amusing.”

Zora beamed at him. “High praise indeed from the stoic prince! I’ll have you know, I’ve got a whole garden of plant puns up my sleeve.”

“Please,” Dravek said, his tone dry but his eyes twinkling, “spare us the botanical bombardment.”

TWENTY-THREE

Mila watched in fascination as Zora launched into another story, her hands flying as she spoke. Despite his attempts to appear uninterested, Dravek’s gaze kept returning to Zora, a softness in his expression that hadn’t been there before.

“I think,” King Brakus said, drawing Mila’s attention back to the matter at hand, “that perhaps the issue is not with the evidence, but with the messenger.”

Mila felt a flash of indignation, but before she could respond, the king continued.

“The council is set in its ways, resistant to change - especially when that change comes from an outsider. No matter how brilliant your research, Mila, some will refuse to see its value simply because you are not Tharvisian.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Mila muttered, but she knew the king was right.

“So what do we do?” Roq asked, leaning forward. “We can’t just sit back and let the planet deteriorate while the council buries its head in the sand.”

A thoughtful silence fell over the table. Mila pushed her food around her plate, her appetite gone. She jumped slightlywhen she felt a warm hand on her thigh under the table. Roq’s touch was gentle, reassuring, and she felt a flutter of heat in her stomach that had nothing to do with the spicy Tharvisian cuisine.

“What if,” Zora said suddenly, her voice dreamy, “we let the flowers speak for us?”

All eyes turned to her, expressions ranging from confusion to exasperation.

“Zora,” Dravek said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “now is hardly the time for your... eccentricities.”

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