Page 66 of Swept By The Alien Pirate Prince

She marched around the room, laying into the other staff members who were unfortunate enough to still be stuck at their stations, and I let my mind wander, letting go of my anger in favor of better thoughts. You learn little tricks like that as a refugee. When things get too rough, too hard to process, you shut it out. Little tactics for preserving your sanity. It was a survival instinct of sorts, and I did what I could in order to not implode on myself.

I felt sorry for the ones currently receiving the brunt of her fury, but I’d endured my fair share in the process along the way. I blocked Darla’s shrill screeching out and let my thoughts drift to that secret place in my mind. The place I escaped to withhim.In reality, my existence wasn’t even a speck on Prince Gardax’s radar, but in my mind, he wasmine.

And in my mind, he made me his. Just the way I wanted it to be. The private seclusion of my mind was my oasis in a desert of chaos.

If I closed my eyes, I could almost feel the warmth of his skin, pretend that he was holding me to him. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen, and he wasn’t even a man—not a human one, anyway. It didn’t matter, though, because he made me feel more like a woman than I had ever felt. Shivers and trembles of pleasure ran up and down my spine. There was no euphoria that could ever match the depth of passion that I felt toward him.

He would kiss me gently, drawing all the stress and aches from my body as he murmured softly, assuring me that I was safe, that Corinne would be safe, that everything was going to get better. His hands were so strong as they stroked my back, my shoulders, massaging my tired muscles... not that princes probably gave massages, but it was my fantasy, so why not? There were no rules in the cobwebs of my lust-clouded mind.

It would have been the ultimate humiliation if anyone knew what went through my mind in moments like that. The heat of desire and shame flushed my cheeks and sprinkled them a rosy red color.

How ridiculous that I, a lowly, pathetic cook and maid, dreamed of Prince Gardax’s lips curving in a secret smile meant just for me. It was pitiful, no doubt, but when you live most of your life in either a warzone or a refugee camp, you don’t exactly have a lot of happy memories to pull from.

So naturally, I created my own pleasurable world where I was in charge of my fate and blissful serenity accompanied me from all sides. I created little stories in my mind, dreamy, romantic scenes that were about as far removed from reality as I could get. It helped me get through the grueling, insufferable days. I tried not to stay locked in the daydreams for long. I reserved those times mainly for sleep or when Darla was yelling at me and everyone else in her tornadic path.

Sometimes, when I was there well before dawn, baking pastries for his breakfast in the dark, warm kitchens, I’d imagine him coming in, taking the rolling pin out of my hands, and carrying me to his private chamber. Maybe we’d curl up together and talk for hours or maybe we’d sleep. Maybe we would do a combination of both. I yearned for the touch of another. I craved conversation and someone who would be interested in me and would want to get to know me.

Was it sad that my fantasies with a gorgeous alien prince involved sleep? Definitely, but when you only get an average of four to five hours of sleep a night, that deprivation seeps into everything. Of course, there were plenty of daydreams where we did more than sleep.

Whatever we did, it was far, far away from this awful, crowded, heated room. I’d never seen the private wing of his ship, if ‘ship’ was even the right term for it, but anything had to be better than the sweltering kitchens. It was like a sweat lodge in here, and I was layered in chef’s clothing that didn’t do my perspiration any favors. I wanted to sweat in other ways. Other ways that involved Gardax.

Cloaked as the structure was with stealth technology, all but the main hull was invisible from the exterior. From the ground, it was almost imperceptible, just a small aircraft among the clouds. But if the chatter among the staff was to be believed, there was much, much more to it. The shuttle that carried us to work dropped us at the service port and we exchanged stories of the glimpses we caught.

Few knew how large the place really was, and I certainly was never given leave to go exploring, but it sounded massive, a maze of finely furnished chambers and passages that I would have loved to wander. In my deepest fantasies, I’d be waltzing through those doors with elegance and grace, adorned with the finest jewelry that money could buy. I wasn’t materialistic in reality, but like I said before, a girl can dream.

I’d only seen the prince a few times. There was my first day, when I came to work with a group of new recruits aboard his vessel, two months prior. It was brief, and I was so nervous I’m not sure I remembered to breathe. That whole time was a bit of a fuzzy blur in my mind. I naturally blocked out trauma in my life.

He was the first alien I’d ever seen. Before the Trilyns arrived seeking a treaty, the only other alien life-forms humans had encountered were little more than single-celled organisms on one of Jupiter’s moons. It was utterly shocking to discover that there was a sentient, intelligent, and frankly, gorgeous race out there. I wasn’t ever afraid of them, especially if they were here seeking peace and unity. I was more infatuated and curious of them than anything.

Aside from being incredibly tall, with muscles carved so finely he might have been a statue and eyes the exact shade of the freshly ripened corn that covered the plains of the home I was forced to flee, he looked like any other inordinately stunning human. I’d heard whispers that they were trained warriors as well, despite their royal upbringing, and it didn’t surprise me. The way he moved was so controlled, so powerful. His physique was mesmerizing, intoxicating.

There had been a handful of times I’d passed him in the main hall, but he hadn’t seen me. He was always speaking to someone or occupied in some way, always distracted, always serious. I had imagined royalty—alien or otherwise—led lives of luxury and relaxation, but I had yet to see Prince Gardax in any state of ease. I wondered if he took his own mental vacations, if he checked out and ran away to some happy place in his mind... and if he did, what sort of things he daydreamed about. I knew that he had to keep his air of confidence and leadership. He had a lot on his plate, as I could imagine.

Then there was the day he gathered the human staff aboard the ship to inform us of the impending party. His piercing yellow eyes had passed over me as he spoke, surveying the crew. It was completely idiotic, but my nerves had a field day as I sat there listening to his deep, commanding voice, hoping he’d notice me. I didn’t know how I could stand out from the crowd to draw his attention, but I wanted his eyes, those piercing eyes to land on me and lock.

Then again, I thought as I looked down at my dingy apron, a wisp of flour-coated hair fluttering into my eyes, there wasn’t much to notice, especially when Prince Gardax could literally take his pick of women. I’m sure I wasn’t even on his radar. He was a prince, after all, and probably had women all over him.

Everyone knew why the princes had come. Their planet had been overtaken by some kind of virus that had rendered their females infertile. To ensure the continuation of their species, the princes had been sent to find human brides, and there was definitely no shortage of beautiful women who were dying to volunteer for the position... women I could never compete with. I was ordinary, a refugee who would never stick out.

What was I? I had nothing to recommend me. I was little more than an underfed refugee living in Union housing with no advanced education and no prospects beyond domestic work. I would never hold his interest in my condition or situation.

I sighed and refocused my attention on the sound of Darla’s voice getting closer to me again. My muscles immediately tensed up, bracing for impact of the plume of anger she always had, ready to lash out.

“Do any of you have even the faintest concept of how big of a deal this is? Apparently not, or else I wouldn’t be looking at a bunch of slack-jawed ingrates doing the bare minimum! We’re behind schedule, and unless you want to work through the night, I suggest you all start picking up the pace!” She tossed another tray on the floor.

For someone who claimed to be concerned about completing our tasks on time, she had a funny way of showing it. Time was wasting while we all stood there, fearfully cowering under her command. We could be spending the time being productive, but she was throwing our supplies all over the room. It was a wonder that she didn’t get a sore throat from all the screaming and yelling she liked to do.

“These racks are supposed to be half-full already.” She motioned to the line of preservation racks that would keep the food in stasis until it was laid out for the hundreds of anticipated guests. “Look at this! This is pathetic! If the party wasn’t in three days, I would fire the lot of you!” The veins in her neck bulged in protest.

“We’re all working as hard as we can, Darla,” I ventured, unable to bite back the comment. It had dripped from my tongue before I had a chance to convince myself not to do it. I couldn’t afford to lose this job. Employment was too scarce and I had more than just myself to look out for.

“Oh? Oh, really? Well, then why is it I got a request from you to take tomorrow night off?” She sneered down at me, an evil glint in her eye. She stared at me as if she despised me and wanted to squash me like a bug under her shoe.

I looked up, surprised. She had already told me I could have the night off. My heart dropped with disappointment.

“It’s Corinne’s birthday—” I started, but she cackled in that creepy, brittle voice of hers as if my personal affairs were none of her concern and she couldn’t care less about them.

“So, the little sponger is having a birthday? Well, wouldn’t it be a nice present for her to have a big sister who doesn’t just expect handouts? You’re not going anywhere.” She spun, eyeing the other prep workers and cooks. “Any of you! Don’t think I won’t be coming back before your shifts are over to see what you’ve got to show for yourselves... and if I’m not happy with what I find, no one is going anywhere.”

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