Page 37 of Alien Prince's Fake Bride
“I have brought my betrothed,” Mareliux says. “Her name is Umbra. It is our intention to get married on your base today! May we step onto your moon?”
“Wel-come to Gref-ve, Prince Mare-liux and Umb-ra!”the soldiers roar, clearly having rehearsed it.
Mareliux straightens and gives them an alien salute, then motions to me to walk down beside him. He doesn’t take my hand, probably because the joining of hands is a part of the wedding ceremony.
My boots touch the soil of an alien world for the first time, and despite being surrounded by thousands of big soldiers, I feel like a pioneer. Nobody from Earth has ever been here.
Officers in golden armor come up to us and salute stiffly. “Twenty-Ninth Legion greets you, Prince Mareliux and Ambassador Umbra!”
They talk for a while, and while Bellatriz does translate, it’s mostly about things I don’t know about. I’m still overwhelmed by all the soldiers and simply being on an alien world.
It’s a chilly world — the sun shines from a clear sky, but it doesn’t heat me up any. It’s like a crisp day in Illinois in October.
One of the officers catches my attention. She’s tall and statuesque, wearing silver armor and carrying her helmet under her arm. Her tendrils are much shorter than that of the males, but also more colorful and even graceful. She wears a blue cape outside her armor, and it nearly sweeps the ground.
When she notices me looking at her, she gives me a little nod.
Mareliux notices, too. “Ah, Colonel Grast. Have you prepared for your special mission?”
“I have, sir,” the Khavgren woman says, her voice just a little deeper than that of most Earth women. “Forallof it.”
“Good,” the prince says. “Ambassador Umbra, this is your maid of honor, Colonel Grast of the Twenty-Ninth Legion.”
“Nice to meet you, Colonel,” I begin, looking up at her. I guess all Khavgrens are really tall. “Thank you for agreeing to be my maid of honor.” Bellatriz translates, making her voice resemble mine.
“It’s my honor, ma’am,” she says. “In every way. Sir, may I take the ambassador to her tent?”
“Do that,” Mareliux commands. “Give her the best care possible.”
“Yes, sir.” The colonel turns to the side, ready to leave.
“If I may break in?”Bellatriz asks with her own voice. “Umbra, you may experience that other AIs here understand what you’re saying and will translate. I have distributed my knowledge of your English to selected AIs here. I just wanted you to know. See you later.”
“Please go with the colonel, Umbra,” Mareliux says. “You and I will not speak again until the wedding ceremony.”
Grast and I walk fast away towards the huge field of red tents.
“I don’t know much about where you come from,” the officer says. A metallic-looking badge the size of a big coin on her chest translates smoothly. “But we have prepared everything that was specified. I am also in charge of the escape plan, if that gets activated.”
“Thanks. So you know about the… wedding?”
“I know it’s not a real wedding. The Crown Prince needs the Emperor to think he’s married. And you’re the bride he wants to not marry. I’m greatly honored to be a party to this secret.” She sends me a tight smile as she opens the flap to a big tent and holds it open for me. “This is your tent, Ambassador.”
Inside it’s pleasantly warm. A small fire crackles in a copper tray beside the main pole holding the tent up. There are low benches with cushions and throws, as well as chests and basketscontaining mysterious items. The air smells of fragrant smoke, and the whole thing feels luxurious.
“This is wonderful,” I say, sincerely impressed. “Whose tent is this usually?”
“It’s the tent we keep ready for when the Prince comes to visit. He hasn’t been here for years, but we make sure it’s always prepared. He insisted you should have it. It’s yours, ma’am. You can sit down if you want.”
“Thank you. You can call me Umbra, Colonel Grast. Where I come from, the bride is usually close friends with the maid of honor. If you’re comfortable with that.”
She takes off her battle gloves, puts them and her helmet on a chest, and relaxes her stance. “I’m very comfortable with that, Umbra. Thank you. I’m not familiar with the ‘maid of honor’ concept, but I like it already. My name is Sigise.”
“Will you sit down, too, Sigise?”
“Um…” she looks down the shiny suit of armor she’s wearing. “I’m not sure I’m able to, without taking something off.”
“Take off what you have to,” I suggest. “I won’t attack you.”
