I scarcely know what to think of her. She’s certainly not what I expected.
Her features are softer, less pronounced than those of my people, but there’s a fire in her eyes that catches me off guard. Earthlings are supposed to be weak, fragile, and timid, ignorant species that they are, lacking intelligence to traverse the stars, yet this one dares to challenge me with her defiance, her sharp words cutting through me.
The vessel has chosen many brides before, and I have dismissed every single one without hesitation. I had expected the same this time—a frightened creature, desperate to please, eager to win my favor. But this Earthling stands before me, trembling with fear, yes, but refusing to bow.
I don’t know whether to be impressed or irritated.
Her gaze flicks to me again, wary but steady, and I can’t help but notice the slight flush that rises to her cheeks. It’s almost distracting. Almost.
Still, I cannot let my guard down. Not for her. The vessel’s judgment may be considered sacred by my people, but I have long since learned to question the traditions we cling to so desperately. This Earthling is no different. Whatever fire she carries now could easily extinguish in the face of what it means to rule alongside me.
I study her a moment longer, my expression carefully neutral. “You are bold,” I say finally. “Perhaps too bold.”
She stiffens, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Thanks,” she mutters. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
For a brief moment, I feel the corners of my mouth twitch, but I school my features into cold indifference. I can’t afford to let her see my amusement.
I step closer, watching as she instinctively takes a step back. Her fear is evident, but so is her resolve. Strange. She might be more trouble than she’s worth.
Or she might be something else entirely.
I suppose time will tell.
I continue to watch her, arms crossed over her chest, defiance burning in her eyes despite the fear she tries so desperately to hide. She doesn’t cower. She doesn’t plead. That, at least, is different from what I expected. Most of the others would have already groveled by now, begging for my favor or a way back to whatever life they left behind.
But this Earthling… she challenges me, and for reasons I can’t quite name, I find it both irritating and oddly intriguing.
“You will remain here,” I say at last, my voice cold and unyielding.
Her brows shoot up, and I see the protest forming on her lips before she even speaks. “Remain here? So, what, I’m a prisoner now?” she snaps.
I step closer, watching as her breathing quickens. Her personal space has been violated.
The tension between us thickens, but I keep my expression impassive. “You are under my protection,” I correct, my voice like steel, “until you learn our ways and prove yourself capable of fulfilling the role the vessel has chosen for you.”
Her mouth falls open, and she just stares at me. “Prove myself?” she repeats, incredulous. “I didn’t ask for this! I didn’t agree to be part of your weird alien matchmaking service.”
“It does not matter what you agreed to,” I say bluntly, cutting her off. “The vessel’s decision is final. Whether you choose to rise to the occasion or fail spectacularly is up to you.”
She glares at me, and there’s a fire in her eyes that stirs something unfamiliar in my chest. “What if I don’t want to be your queen?” she bites out.
“Then you will leave this palace, this world, with nothing,” I reply evenly. “That is, if you survive long enough to find your way off Erythos.”
Her defiance falters, just for a moment, and I see the flicker of uncertainty cross her face. Good. She needs to understand the reality of her situation.
I turn away, my cape sweeping behind me as I stride toward the door. “You have much to learn,” I say over my shoulder. “Do not waste my time.”
Before I leave the room, I glance back to see her standing there, her fists clenched at her sides, her jaw set. I expect anger. I expect frustration. But what I don’t expect is the glimmer of determination in her gaze.
Perhaps this Earthling is not as weak as I thought.
Still, I will not make it easy for her.
I sit in the council chamber, my mind only half-focused on the discussion around me. The advisors drone on about supply lines and border disputes, but my thoughts keep drifting back to her. The Earthling. Emily.
She’s been here for only a few days, and yet, she’s managed to upend everything I thought I knew.
At first glance, she seemed unremarkable—small, fragile, out of place among the grandeur of the palace. But then she spoke, her voice steady and sharp, cutting through the weight of my expectations. She challenged me in ways no one else dared to, her intelligence lighting up every word, every defiant glance.