Page 7 of The Alien's Unwanted Bride

With a nod to Zora and General Emear, Dravek took his leave. As he walked away, his mind was in turmoil. Why had General Emear’s offer bothered him so much? And why did he care whether Zora was impressed by his fighting skills?

As the last of the soldiers disappeared into the base, Dravek found himself alone on the training grounds. The holographic projectors powered down, leaving only the natural beauty of the Tharvisian landscape. The twin moons of Tharvis began their ascent, casting a soft, ethereal glow across the mountains.

For a moment, Dravek allowed his princely facade to slip. His shoulders sagged slightly, the tension he habitually carried easing just a fraction. He moved to the edge of the platform, his gaze drawn to the distant horizon where the lights of the capital city twinkled like earthbound stars.

The cool evening breeze carried with it the scents of the Tharvisian night – the crisp mountain air mingled with the faint aroma of night-blooming flowers that grew in the crevices of the rocky terrain. It was a smell that always brought a sense of home, of belonging. Yet, standing there under the vast canopy of stars, Dravek felt a familiar pang of isolation wash over him.

He was a prince, a military commander, respected and perhaps even feared by many. But in moments like these with noone around to see, he was simply Dravek – a man with doubts, desires, and a longing for something he couldn’t quite name.

The distant sounds of the palace complex reached his ears – the hum of energy fields and the occasional whir of a passing hovercraft. Life continued its relentless pace, oblivious to his momentary introspection. With a small sigh, Dravek straightened his posture, the mantle of his royal duties settling back onto his shoulders like a familiar weight.

He turned away from the view, his steps echoing in the empty training ground as he made his way to the exit. The halls of the military complex were quiet at this hour with only the occasional patrol or late-working technician crossing his path. Those he encountered snapped to attention, offering crisp salutes which he acknowledged with a nod.

As Dravek made his way back to his quarters, his mind was in turmoil. The memory of Zora’s bright eyes and enthusiastic cheer replayed in his thoughts, stirring emotions he had long kept buried. He found himself torn between the warmth her presence ignited and the cold reality of his duties.

The arranged marriage to Zora was a political necessity, a union designed to strengthen the alliance between Tharvis and Earth. Dravek had accepted this fact with the same stoic resolve he applied to all his princely duties. It was logical, strategic – emotions had no place in such matters.

Yet, as he entered his spartan quarters, Dravek couldn’t shake the image of Zora’s smile, the way her face had lit up during the training exercise. Her genuine interest in Tharvisian culture, her kind demeanor, her quick mind – all these qualities drew him in despite his best efforts to maintain emotional distance.

“This is unacceptable,” Dravek muttered to himself, pacing the length of his room. He paused before a large mirror, studying his reflection. The face that looked back at him was composed,controlled – the perfect mask of a Tharvisian prince. But in his eyes, he could see the conflict raging beneath the surface.

He thought back to their interaction on the observation deck, to the unexpected flare of jealousy he’d felt when General Emear offered Zora a tour. Why had that bothered him so much? And why did he respond by becoming colder, more aloof?

Dravek ran a hand through his hair, a rare gesture of frustration. “She is to be your wife,” he reminded himself sternly. “Nothing more than a political partner. These... feelings... are irrelevant.”

But even as he said the words, he knew they rang hollow. Zora wasn’t just a political pawn. She was brilliant, passionate about her work, and curious about his world. Her kindness and enthusiasm were a stark contrast to the calculated interactions he was accustomed to in the royal court.

For a moment, Dravek allowed himself to imagine a different scenario – one where he and Zora had met under different circumstances, where duty and politics didn’t stand between them. The thought brought a bittersweet ache to his chest.

“No,” he said aloud, his voice harsh in the quiet room. “This line of thinking is dangerous.”

Allowing himself to develop genuine feelings for Zora could only lead to complications. If he saw her as more than a political partner, it could cloud his judgment, compromise his ability to put Tharvis first in all things. And yet, the more he tried to push away these thoughts, the more persistent they became.

He moved to his desk, intending to distract himself with work. But as he sat, Dravek could still recall the way Zora’s eyes had lit up when he’d looked at her.

“This cannot continue,” Dravek said firmly, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. When he opened them again, his expression was once more the impassive mask of the stoic prince. He made a decision then – he would maintain aprofessional distance from Zora. It was the only way to ensure he could fulfill his duties without obstacles.

Yet even as he resolved to be colder, more distant in his interactions with her, a part of Dravek rebelled against the idea. It felt wrong to shut out the warmth and light Zora brought into his structured world.

As he turned his attention to the reports on his desk, Dravek couldn’t shake the feeling that he was standing on the edge of a precipice. On one side lay the familiar terrain of duty and protocol: on the other, an unknown landscape of emotion and possibility.

For now, he would hold to the path of duty. But deep down, Dravek knew his resolve would be tested in the days to come. The conflict between his growing feelings for Zora and his ingrained sense of duty was far from resolved.

With a heavy sigh, Dravek forced himself to focus on his work, pushing thoughts of Zora to the back of his mind. But even as he immersed himself in military reports and diplomatic briefings, a small part of him remained acutely aware of the woman who was slowly but surely working her way past his carefully constructed defenses.

FIVE

The morning sun cast long shadows across the rugged terrain of the Shadowed Highlands region of Tharvis as Zora inched her way along a narrow ledge, her heart pounding with a mixture of exhilaration and trepidation. Carefully navigating the treacherous path, her mind wandered to Dravek.

His chiseled features and intense black eyes flashed in her memory, sending an unexpected flutter through her chest. Zora shook her head, trying to focus on the task at hand. But thoughts of Dravek persisted, a mixture of attraction and frustration.

“Sprig,” she said, addressing her robotic companion, “why do you think Prince Dravek is so... cold sometimes? One moment he seems interested in me, the next he’s as distant as a Tharvisian ice moon.”

Sprig’s processors whirred as he formulated a response. “Based on my analysis of Prince Dravek’s behavior patterns and his role as Military Commander, it is likely that he views emotional expression as a potential weakness. Tharvisian military culture often emphasizes stoicism and control.”

Zora sighed, carefully shifting her weight to maintain balance. “I get that, but it’s frustrating. There are times when Ithink I see something more in his eyes, a warmth beneath the icy exterior. But then it’s gone, replaced by that maddeningly composed mask.”

“Perhaps,” Sprig offered, “Prince Dravek’s upbringing and position have not provided him with experience in matters of romance. It may be beneficial for you to take the initiative in expressing your feelings, Zora Arison.”

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