Page 60 of Alien Prince Fake Fiancé

The villagers stared openly, watching silently as the newcomers passed through with one of their own inside the clear medical stasis pod. Their eyes, glinting with curiosity and concern, followed Ashlyn and her companions as they made their way to the elder’s home in the center.

She breathed a sigh of relief when they finally stopped at the largest structure in the village, built with massive black stones.

Waiting at the front door was an elderly woman Ashlyn assumed must be the elder. She had striking silver hair and eyes that shone like polished topaz. Ashlyn blinked back her shock. She’d never seen a Caldorian that didn’t look like they were in their prime. Healthy. Young. Fit.

Although this woman was still beautiful, she was unquestionably old, her skin battered by the elements, with deep laugh lines at the corners of her eyes and around her mouth. She beckoned them into a large foyer with a wave. Ashlyn couldn’t even begin to guess at the old woman’s age.

“Come in. Come in. We are ready for him. Stow your outer garments there in the chest by the door,” she said, pointing. “When you’re done, only one may proceed through the door at the end of the hallway. The rest must wait in the other rooms. My apprentices will lead you through.”

Rachel and Cam entered behind Ashlyn, then Sasha and Dagan, as the old woman disappeared through the archway, Zade’s pod floating in front of her with no more than a small push of her withered fingers.

They changed as quickly as they could. Cam and Dagan were first to finish. It was no surprise to see them wearing the traditional military uniforms she’d come to expect.

Ashlyn was next and stepped forward in black cashmere leggings that had doubled as thermal wear and a warm, ultra-fine cashmere sweater in royal blue with a loose faux fur cowl neck. She reached into the deep pockets of her snowsuit and pulled out a pair of stretchy black ballet slippers. They were the only ones that fit inside the pockets. Balancing on one leg, she pulled the slipper on, then switched to the other. Her hair she decided to leave pulled back in a shiny silver clip.

Rachel was next, dressed in similar clothing, the only exception being the color of her sweater, which was a forest green. The last to finish was Sasha. She was the only one who chose to wear metamaterial. With a few carefully selected commands, her one piece bodysuit transformed itself into a beautiful, lavender, floor length gown trimmed with warm feathery fluff. She looked every inch the queen she’d become,with no need of a crown, as the two inch band of crystal markings glittered like diamonds across her forehead.

Ashlyn raised an eyebrow.

Blushing, Sasha explained in a whisper. “Dagan. Politics. Even though he’s the king of the Western Sector, he’s never been invited to come this far into Northern territory. I think he’s nervous. He told me to wear something comfortable, but I asked one of his staff members what she suggested, and here I am.”

“I didn’t think Dagan could get nervous.”

“It was his idea to bring the gifts from Earth, like that cashmere sweater you’re wearing,” she said with a wink.

Ashlyn groaned. “Is that where it came from? Bren dropped off several outfits the first day on board The Reaper. I just assumed…well…I don’t know what I assumed. I guess I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry. Now I feel terrible!”

“Don’t,” snickered Rachel. “They’re technically from you, and I’m wearing some, too. Caldorians, Dagan included, aren’t supposed to have access to anything they haven’t traded for yet, and since most of Caldor uses metamaterial, they’re not likely to make a trade for ours. Cam and I did the shopping before the Council members arrived. We were going to hand it out to the Councilors on your behalf. Well, on behalf of C’bor’s widow and her fiancé, which turned out to be you and Zade.”

“Score a few points with alien contraband? I wish I’d thought of that,” Ashlyn mused.

“That’s what we’re here for, Ash. We got your back.”

“Always,” Sasha seconded.

Ashlyn took a long, deep breath, suddenly nervous. “Right, then. Let’s go.”

Everyone but Ashlyn stopped at the first room. There were sofas and chairs aplenty, with food piled high on a buffet style table and a bowl full of steaming liquid. Ashlyn’s stomach flipflopped. She couldn’t have eaten now, even if she wanted to. She was too nervous. Too afraid for Zade.

Proceeding alone, she glanced at each room as she passed on her way down the hall. The interior was warm, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside. The walls were adorned with intricate carvings and glowing crystals that bathed the rooms in a soft, welcoming light. The scent of burning herbs filled the air, a mix of earthy and floral notes that made Ashlyn's head spin.

Through the door, she found Zade’s pod. This room was different, made of slate, with water flowing gently down the walls and ambient bell tones playing in the background. Soft light from hundreds of tiny lights flickered and danced through the many fragrant vines climbing up the walls beneath the water. Tucked unobtrusively into the corners were tall shelving units, one filled with all matter of herbal ointments, salves, fragrant oils, and candles. The other had stacks of sheets and towels.

The room was soothing, instantly calming her frazzled nerves, like the most luxurious of spas. The pod was opened, Zade was carefully lifted out and gently laid on the only furniture in the room; a padded table raised no more than an inch or two off the ground. Three young women and two men sat cross-legged along one side of the platform, swaying ever so slightly as they chanted, slipping deep into meditation.

Ashlyn sank down on Zade’s other side and placed one hand over his. His skin was ice cold. Her stomach twisted with worry. She squeezed his stiff fingers, hoping for a sign of life she was afraid would never come.

The elder woman covered Zade with a thin sheet scented with something Ashlyn was unable to identify, some kind of flower, perhaps, then sat next to her with surprising agility.

"I am Elder Lytha, mother of Zade’s mother,” she said, her voice as melodic and soothing as the room. “I am also the healer for my people.”

Unable to staunch a fresh flow of tears, heart breaking anew, Ashlyn swallowed the lump in her throat and clasped her hands to her chest. "You’re his grandmother? Oh god, I’m sorry. You must be so worried. I’m Ashlyn, and it’s so nice to meet you, and I’m so sorry, Your Majesty."

Zade’s grandmother patted Ashlyn's hand. “I gave up the crown to my daughter many years ago. Please, call me Lytha. And why would you be sorry, child?”

Sniffling, Ashlyn explained. “He’s like this because of me. He stepped in front of a ‘Dark One’ that was about to kill me. He saved me.”

“Ah. Always brave, that one. He must love you very much to sacrifice himself this way. Do you love him as well?”

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