Page 88 of Alien Prince

“I found something,” I say quickly, stepping into the room and closing the door behind me. “It’s about the vessel.”

His violet eyes narrow slightly, and he gestures for me to sit. “Explain.”

I drop the book and my notes onto the table between us, flipping to the passage I’ve been studying. “The vessel isn’t just some ancient tradition,” I say, the words tumbling out in a rush. “It’s tied to technology. As far as I can reason, it’s technologyyour people haven’t used in centuries. The texts talk about it like it’s a safeguard, but they also hint that it could be… more than that.”

Kael leans forward, his focus sharpening. “More how?”

“Like a weapon,” I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “The vessel’s ability to choose matches… it’s not just about compatibility. It’s about power. Certain factions could exploit it and use it to control people, maybe even the throne. I’m not saying that anyone is going to do this or even realize that they could, but… I thought you should know.”

His gaze flickers with something I can’t quite place—surprise, perhaps, or maybe anger. “And how did you come across this information?”

I swallow hard. “The library. There’s a section with old texts, ones that aren’t in common circulation anymore. I thought… I thought it might help me understand your culture better, but then I found this.”

For a moment, Kael says nothing, his expression unreadable. I brace myself for him to dismiss me, to tell me I’ve overstepped.

But then he speaks, and his voice is low, measured. “You’ve done well to bring this to me.”

I blink, caught off guard by the unexpected praise. “I… thought you might be upset.”

He shakes his head, his silver hair catching the light. “You’ve shown resourcefulness. Initiative. These texts have been hidden for a reason, and if factions are seeking to exploit the vessel’s technology, it could pose a significant threat, not just to the throne but to the entire kingdom of the planet.”

“What do we do?” I ask, my voice trembling.

“We investigate further,” he says firmly, “but this knowledge cannot leave this room. Not yet. If the wrong people learn what you’ve discovered, it could ignite a conflict we’re not prepared for.”

I nod. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to add more to your plate.”

He furrows my brow. “What plate?”

“Ah… I didn’t mean to give you more cause for alarm.”

He grunts. “That seems to be my lot in life. Do not worry yourself about this any longer. I will ensure that this is rectified. No one will be able to turn the vessel into a weapon. I guarantee it.” Kael rises from his seat, his gaze locking with mine. “You’ve proven yourself more capable than I expected, Emily,” he says quietly, “and for that, I owe you my trust.”

The warmth in his words catches me off guard, and I feel my cheeks flush. “I just… want to help.”

“You have,” he says simply.

My heart swells, and for the first time since I arrived on Erythos, I feel like I belong.

Chapter Twelve

Kael

The hour is late, and the palace is quiet, the halls dark except for the faint glow of the bioluminescent sconces. Emily sits across from me at the small table in my private study, her brow furrowed as she pores over the notes we’ve been dissecting for hours.

The tension between us is thick but not unpleasant, her sharp mind and relentless curiosity proving far more valuable than I had ever anticipated. For the first time, I allow myself to wonder if bringing her into my confidence wasn’t just necessary but right.

“Your council won’t like this,” she says, breaking the silence. Her voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it—a challenge. “They’ll see it as you bending tradition. Relying on an Earthling.”

I lean back in my chair, folding my arms across my chest. “The council’s approval is secondary to the security of Erythos. If this technology falls into the wrong hands, it won’t matter what traditions we uphold.”

Her lips press into a thin line, and I can see the argument forming before she even speaks. “But you need their support, don’t you? Isn’t that why you need a queen in the first place? To keep them in line?”

I stiffen, her words cutting closer to the truth than I’m comfortable admitting. “Careful, Emily,” I say evenly, though my tone carries a warning. “You are walking a dangerous line.”

“Someone has to,” she snaps, pushing the notes aside and meeting my gaze head-on. “You can’t keep pretending thisisn’t about politics. The rebellion, the vessel, even me—it’s all connected, and you know it.”

Her defiance is maddening, but what’s worse is that she’s right.

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