Page 93 of Alien Prince's Fake Bride
I leave the garden with Caret’ax and walk towards the General Staff building, where I will have more military business to deal with.
“She didn’t deny still trying to kill me,” I tell Caret’ax. “But she also didn’t confirm it directly.”
“But indirectly?” the bodyguard asks.
’If I were, you’d know it.’And I did know it, with enough certainty to ask the question. “Yes.”
“Very well, sir. It makes it easier if we know for a fact which party to defend against.”
“This whole meeting was just a big threat. She’s telling me she will try to kill me until she either succeeds or I somehow become unmarried.”
Caret’ax goes up the stairs to the military headquarters before me so he can open the door. “Ah. Does she know?”
“That Umbra and I aren’t really married? She suspects. As does everyone.”
Caret’ax holds the door open for me. “It looks perfectly real to me.”
“That’s just it. I worry that perhaps it looks too good to be true. Whoever heard of an Imperial Prince loving his wife, and being loved right back? I only know of one other.” I walk into the building, ready to help my army fight the Vyrpy from a distance.
But I’m not sure how well I will be able to concentrate. Because my family never went on a trip to Perapok. I’ve never climbed a cliff in my life. And the Empress never spent any time in any infirmary. Whoever that person is I just talked to in Juriniel’s Cauldron, she doesn’t know much about my mother.
36
- Umbra-
Earlier today it was a workshop for the many land transport vehicles that belong to the palace. Now it’s the venue for a reception at the Imperial Court.
To me it looks a lot like an airplane hangar, with six big doors and a massive, empty floor with millions of stains from leaking vehicles. It smells a lot like a car shop on Earth, like lubricants and various fluids. The many machines for maintaining and servicing the transports have been pushed up against the walls to be out of the way of the guests. There’s probably a hundred of them, all dressed in their finest clothing. We’re all completely out of place here, under the glaring white lights that are meant to make life easier for the mechanics working at night. But at least it makes the endless amounts of gemstones glitter and shine, so Bellatriz’s random choice of a venue for the reception worked out in that sense, at least.
I’m wearing some gems myself, in a fine diadem Mareliux gave me for this occasion. It consists of hundreds of tiny bluegemstones that seem to hold the light of distant stars, set in intricate silverwork that spirals around my head. Each time I move, the diadem catches the light, scattering shimmering pinpricks of sapphire across my vision. It’s a glittering crown that feels both fragile in its beauty and heavy with the weight of this dangerous pretense.
My dress is long and flowing, its dark red shifting subtly as I move. The fabric feels cool and supple against my skin, a soft, heavy weight that flows around my legs as I walk. It's cut simply, with a high neckline that draws attention to the shimmering diadem in my hair and long, fitted sleeves that end in delicate, silver-edged points over my hands. I’m wearing silver heels as high as I can comfortably walk in, but still I’m shorter than all but the most petite of the elderly Khavgren widow duchesses.
I’ve spent most of my time watching information videos that the Khavgren call ‘visuals’. They were about the Empire and how things work on planet Khav, clearly made for aliens from other parts of the Empire who come to Khav for the first time. That made them pretty useful for me, too.
Mareliux is dressed almost as usual, in a bare torso and black pants. But for this occasion he’s put on a blue cape and a silver ring around his head, placed so it doesn’t interfere with his tendrils. “These days,” he said as we were getting dressed, “most of these people rarely have a chance to wear their finest clothing. They will like us for that reason alone, for giving them a chance to be seen in the way they most enjoy, with their glittering jewels and old medals.”
Mareliux and I stand in one place, while the courtiers come up to us one by one or couple by couple. The latter is rare — most of these nobles and officers are either widows or widowers, it seems, although their average age can’t be much over fifty.
“That’s the Countess of Bratsh,”Vera says in English. She’s gathered a lot of intel about the courtiers from other AIs she’s befriended, and now she keeps me informed with a soft voice I can barely hear and the others not at all. “Rumored to have murdered her husband by simply pushing him out a window. It’s unclear what she gained by that. Probably she killed him because there was a big wave of spousal murder at the time and she didn’t want to be considered unfashionable.”
“Dear Prince,” the old woman creaks as she comes up to us, gray tendrils so thin and withered that they don’t move at all. “Finally home again. And your wife, the…interestingPrincess Rumba of Orf. What an…interestingcouple you make. You are clearly very much in love.”
Many of the Khavgrens struggle with alien names, and I don’t see any reason to correct them.
“We are indeed, Countess Bratsh,” Mareliux says smoothly. “I recommend being married. It has certainly let fresh air into my life. As if awindowhadopened.”
I hide a smile behind my hand. He’s trying to keep me from getting bored, and his naughty comments work.
The countess blinks while she ponders it. “Yes. Fresh air. Do you also breathe air, Princess Burma? It’s just, I heard some aliens don’t. And you areveryalien. In the most interesting way, of course.”
“I do,” I tell her with a little laugh, surprised at her inane question. I don’t think she means anything mean by it, she’s just old and clueless. Or perhaps she remembers the strange alien hive queen that breathed methane. “It’s one of the things that Mareliux found so attractive about me.”
“How romantic,” the old lady creaks sincerely. “Brought together. From the air. Now, we expect children, of course. Little princes and… others. Aliens, I suppose they will be.” She screws up her face as if she imagines it. “Oh well, it will all beinteresting.”
She withdraws to give way to the next in line. This is a couple.
“The Duke and Duchess of Biafirat,”Vera says. “Both still alive, although all their siblings gradually died off under mysterious circumstances. Luckily all those deaths meant these two didn’t have to split their inheritances with anyone, despite being born into big families. They have big land holdings on the moon Dolpian. They are close with the Empress. Or as close as anyone can get.”
