Page 28 of Surrender
“We must talk,”Merokk said as he entered the library, and Fiona’s stomach did a nosedive.
She placed her book aside and met his stare, trying to determine if he was angry. Sometimes, she had a difficult time reading his expressions. She swallowed hard and rose to her feet, meeting him in the center of the huge rug that dominated the room.
“Yes?” she asked. “Is-is something wrong?”
“We must throw a dinner party tomorrow evening.”
“Tomorrow?” She suddenly had the urge to rush around the house, picking things up and cleaning, even though the house was as spotless as always, thanks to the diligence of the servants.
He gave her a tight smile. “I apologize for the late notice, but I hope you will be prepared. I’ve already informed the servants and the cook is busy planning the menu.”
“Who’s coming?” she asked, immensely grateful for the servants.
“Several Kall ambassadors and their wives. They are in DC for the weekend and it would be rude if I didn’t extend the invitation.”
“Human wives?” she asked, intrigued by the prospect of meeting more human women who’d been forced to marry Kall warriors.
“Some but not all. Why do you ask?”
“Oh, I’m just curious.” She exhaled a long breath. “Um, what do I need to do in order to prepare? Is anyone staying the night? I could prepare some guestrooms, or—”
Merokk stroked a hand through her hair and stepped closer. His masculine scent tickled her nose, and she felt a shiver of awareness move through her body. Sometimes she forgot how tall her husband was, until he stood right in front of her and she had to crane her neck just to meet his gaze.
“The servants will take care of all the preparations, little one,” he said. “All you must do is be ready to receive guests at dinnertime. Perhaps wear one of the traditional Kall dresses I have given you, since this is a formal occasion.”
“I can do that,” she said, feeling rather spoiled. Not that entertaining guests wouldn’t be taxing, particularly with her tragic inability to make small talk, but at least she wouldn’t have to scramble to make the house presentable and cook a huge feast at the last minute.
“Thank you, Betsy,” Merokk replied with a smile. “Many of the ambassadors are old friends of mine and I am anxious to see them now that the war is over.”
“Of course,” she said. “I understand, and I am looking forward to meeting your friends.” Truthfully, she wasn’t looking forward to meeting his friends—she was downright terrified—but she couldn’t let on just how nervous she was.
Throughout the remainder of the night and into the next day, all Fiona could do was worry. Her stomach twisted every time she thought of the impending dinner party. What if something went wrong? Would Merokk blame her?
Another possibility made her sick to her stomach.
What if someone in attendance realized she wasn’t Betsy Carson? Particularly one of the other human women? Would they say something, blow her cover?
As the hour for the dinner party drew closer, she donned one of the traditional Kall gowns Merokk had recently given her. Her hands shook as she fixed her hair and applied her makeup. The smell of the cooking feast drifted upstairs, reminding her that it was almost time. She knew Merokk was already downstairs, working in his study until the first guests arrived.
She checked her appearance in the mirror and couldn’t help but admire the way the silver dress sparkled under the lights. She was still touched that Merokk had surprised her with a few dresses, even if he did intend for her to wear them during dinner parties with other Kall ambassadors.
The doorbell rang and she drew in a deep, steadying breath.I can do this. It’s just a dinner party.She rushed downstairs and joined Merokk in greeting the first guests, a huge Kall and his human wife. Though over forty couples had gotten married at the mass nuptial ceremony at the White House, she hadn’t seen any Kall-human couples since that day.
Watching the Kall male lead his human wife into the house brought Fiona a bit of comfort, especially when they exchanged an affectionate look. Seeing them was a reminder that Fiona wasn’t alone—she wasn’t the only human woman who’d been forced to marry the enemy.
More guests arrived and Fiona struggled to remember all their names. Well, she could recall the human names just fine, it was the Kall names that gave her issue, as many of them were difficult for her to pronounce. Nevertheless, she forged onward and tried her best to speak with everyone and make the ambassadors and their wives feel welcome.
To her great relief, none of the human females gave her any weird looks, though some of them claimed it was an honor to meet her, as they believed she was the First Daughter. As the party continued, she found herself relaxing more and more, and she was delighted that Merokk rarely left her side, and even when he did, he always hurried back.
She took the time to observe the couples and how they interacted with one another. To her great relief, none of the human women looked scared. In fact, she envied how at ease most of them appeared. She did the math in her head. Four weeks. The mass nuptial ceremonies had taken place four weeks ago. Apparently, that had been long enough for these Kall-human couples to settle into their new marriages. At least she hoped she was right. She hoped none of the women were secretly miserable or frightened.
Merokk and the other ambassadors conversed with one another in their native tongue, which left some opportunity for Fiona and the human women to converse in English, though Fiona also made certain to include the two Kall females who’d come to join in their conversation as well.
“I always wanted to visit Washington, DC,” Hailey said. “Never imagined I would get to visit under these circumstances.” But when she glanced at her Kall husband, her eyes brimmed with warmth.
Before Fiona could reply, Darla asked, “What are President Carson’s plans after his term is over?”
Fiona forced a smile. “Oh, well he’s looking forward to catching up on his golf,” she said, and beamed inside when everyone laughed. “To be honest, though, he hasn’t told me very much about his plans. I think he is tired and will be grateful for a long rest.” God, she hoped she wasn’t diverging too far from the truth. She hadn’t a clue what President Carson’s post-presidency plans were.
