Page 23 of A Delicate Conquest

“One last piece of advice,” Rykal offered as they walked out of the antechamber. He looked Mavrel up and down, frowning. “Human women go to a lot of effort to dress for these sorts of things. It’s a big deal for them. You can’t turn up looking like you’ve just completed a five-rotation shift in the middle of a war. My man, it’s time for you to get somedrip, as the humans say.”

“Drip?”

“Attire. Finery. Something that makes you look good and attractive to your future mate. Like what I’m wearing.” Rykal gestured to himself, grinning. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a reason to wear anything fancy. Arin won’t be able to resist me. I can’t wait to see her reaction.”

Mavrel snorted. How ridiculous.

But then again, when was the last time he’d worn anything but black?

And shewaslooking spectacular. If he were to accompany her—as herpartner—he wouldn’t want to disappoint her by looking shabby.

As they headed in the direction of Mavrel’s labs, he let out a sigh.

Very well.

None of this was like him, but the Goddess had already snatched the threads of fate out of his hands.

“Good luck, brother.” Rykal gave him a good-natured half-wave.

“Th-thanks,” Mavrel stuttered, astounded by the First Division warrior’s sudden generosity. Under the old empire, such a thing never would have happened. The First Division had been the most feared outfit in the military, and even he would have kept his distance.

How things had changed.

Rykal disappeared in the opposite direction, leaving Mavrel to contemplate the unpredictability of the Universe and his small place within it.

Wasn’t that strangely freeing, though?

For perhaps, he could do whatever he wanted—as long as he adhered to Tarak’s rules. And if he were ever to overstep his bounds, there would be at least a dozen or more Kordolian males at the event who could easily pull him back into line.

Mavrel strode down the corridor, returning to his rooms.

He hadn’t expected this, but there was no turning back now.

Shewas waiting for him, and every move he made from here on in had to be immaculate.

NINE

“That’s incredible,”Bea exclaimed as she rolled her foot around, testing her ankle. She got up out of the chair and stood barefoot on the cold floor.

There was no pain. She felt completely normal.

Zharek had injected something into her lower leg. The shot was painless, and for a moment, she’d wondered if she was a complete idiot for allowing an alien on a floating space station to put a mysterious substance in her body, but then the throbbing agony had completely stopped.

She’d never experienced anything like it.

The medic shrugged as he removed his black gloves. “A minor injury, easy to repair. It’s the least we could do for the inconvenience. Your minder should have reacted faster and prevented you from falling.”

“Don’t you dare get him into trouble. He’s been perfectly professional. You can’t have expected him to catch me. That’s ridiculous.” The last thing Bea wanted was for Ortan to face some sort of punishment because of her stupid, flimsy shoe. That was onher.The Kordolians were being perfectly hospitable to her, but she couldn’t imagine how they might discipline one of their own.

Zharek smiled. “How very human of you.”

“I just don’t want to make a big deal over nothing,” Bea said carefully, trying not to let her irritation show.

She didn’t know exactly why Zharek got under her skin. Maybe it was the way he looked at her sometimes—like he knew everything about her as if he were God with a master plan.

Or maybe it was his air of casual nonchalance as he performed near-miracles.

Thelivesthat his medicine could change.

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