Page 42 of Alien Prince's Fake Bride
He gives my chest a barren smile. “A busy day, marrying a prince, the heir to the Khavgren Empire. I wish I knew more about your planet, Ambassador. Because perhaps soon, our empress will be an alien from a place nobody’s ever heard of. ‘Earth’, wasn’t it? I’m afraid that while I’m sure the Earthish Empire is very large and glorious, nobody inourEmpire has ever heard of it. And some will worry about an alien having the power of an empress. And about the next generation of emperors being half aliens. If it’s even possible for your species and ours to have offspring. It seems unlikely, doesn’t it?”
I want to snap something nasty right back, but I realize that’s a fight I can’t win against this snake. So I simply give him a littlesmile. “Thank you for your visit. I hope that in time, you can let go of your groundless worries.”
The quaestor gathers his robes around him. “It’s not me who’s worried. It’s the Emperor Craxallo. I shall of course let him know that you find his concerns about the future of his Empire ‘groundless’. I’m sure he will besorelieved.” He turns to leave.
Sigise opens the flap for him.
He turns again. “Oh, Ambassador. Please forgive this old romantic if his questions are too personal. But how did you meet the prince? I’m sure there must be a sweet story behind it. Was there a reception, perhaps? A diplomatic event that the prince told nobody about?”
Damn. Mareliux and I should have agreed on a story about that. Because ‘he abducted me and we agreed I’d pretend to marry him in exchange for all kinds of military aid’ isn’t something I want to say.
I feign surprise. “Oh, didn’t the prince tell you already? I’m surprised. Perhaps he wants thatprivateexperience to remain private. I better not say anything that he wouldn’t want you to know. I wonder why, though. Does he not trust you, Quaestor?”
The man stares at my hair. “I’m afraid the prince hasn’t had time to talk to anyone but his close friend, the general of this base. They have been in secret talks since he arrived. Which is strange, since this legion is not in battle and no enemy activity has been spotted here for some time. One wonders what they’re talking about that must be so secret and so urgent. It all seems almost conspirative, don’t you think? Good morning, Ambassador.” He finally leaves.
Sigise drops the tent flap closed. “He arrived just before you did. A special envoy of the Emperor, apparently. Nobody knew he was coming until he was here.”
“Will he be a problem?” I ask, not feeling great about that guy.
“Perhaps,” Sigise says, glaring at the tent flap where the man just stood. “He may be just what he seems: an envoy who has been told to find out what’s going on. The weddingissudden. Especially for a royal event. It’s not surprising that the Emperor wants to know what’s behind it. But Quaestor Preniat is out in the open. I would worry more about a spy we don’t know about. If there is one.”
18
- Mareliux-
The ceremony takes place outside. All the soldiers of the legion are lined up, wearing their gala uniforms and not their armor. The legion has erected a small altar to all the gods, and the Pontifex is standing there in his black robes and dark green hat.
Far in the background, theGladiuxtowers high above the base, dark and warlike.
It’s a cool day, so I have put on a cape that hangs down my back. It doesn’t help much, but the soldiers expect to see me in my usual clothing, with my torso bare like the warrior princes from the myths. And it is a comfortable attire.
At the exact moment, Colonel Grast comes out of Umbra’s tent and holds the flap open so Umbra can walk out without bending her neck. The tent is placed so that all she has to do is walk straight ahead, between the lined up soldiers, all the way to the platform with the altar.
She looks remarkable. The green is unusual for a bride, but it makes it easy to admire her curves. She’s wearing a blue officer’s cape across her shoulders, and the shiny metal of her boots glints in the sun as she approaches.
She looks small and innocent as she makes her way between my big legionnaires. I know what Prab meant — I also have trouble taking my eyes off her. There’s something about her that just makes me want to look.
To my annoyance, I feel my manhood swelling at the sight of her. I never knew anyone to make me lose control like she does.
At the foot of the podium, the colonel’s place is taken by General Sporiux. He walks her the final steps up to me.
Umbra gives me a coy little smile. I smile back, having to remind myself that this is a fake wedding. Right now, I’m as nervous as if it were real.
The general walks back down to ground level.
“Not carrying a gun after all?” I whisper, and Bellatriz whispers the translation.
“I think your sword is weapon enough for both of us,” Umbra whispers back.
The Pontifex begins the ceremony, talking about the gods and the holy union and so on. I never took that stuff too seriously — the world seems mostly random to me, not governed by twenty gods, each with their area of responsibility. But for an occasion like this, it’s fine to invoke their protection. I need all the help I can get.
“Now I ask you,” the Pontifex goes on, “are you Ambassador Umbra Hadley of Earth, Lieutenant of Space Force?”
“I am,” Umbra says loudly.
He turns to me. “And are you Crown Prince Mareliux casHuriak, Supreme Sky Marshal and Governor of all Demirt Sector?”
“I am,” I confirm, thankful he didn’t reel off all my titles and honors, but limited himself to some of the most important ones.
