Page 92 of Alien Prince's Claim

All at the same time.

A dozen clawed hands worked like a well-orchestrated machine.

The ones working my hair mumbled phrases like:

“Oh! You have lovely hair!” and “It’s very thick. I think we can do a lot with this.”

Others performing makeup duty said:

“You have a beautiful nose. Have you ever pierced it before?” and “You have fabulous skin. What is your secret?”

They spoke more to themselves or each other than to me, constantly and endlessly muttering on.

It was like a caricature of going to a human salon.

It made me wonder if they had studied human TV shows and thought that was what normally happened on Earth.

If it was supposed to put me at ease, it failed miserably.

But there was a silver lining.

At some point, they would have to remove my restraints to pull a dress over my head.

The moment they did that, I would snatch at their tools — one had a small pair of scissors — and I would swipe maniacally at them until they let me leave.

One with a ridiculous 80s-style bond perm held up a mirror so I could see their handiwork.

“What do you think?” she asked, immediately lowering it before I could answer.

I looked hideous — even worse than the Queen!

There was far too much makeup, with no naturalness to it at all.

I looked more like a clown than a human being.

Before I could answer, they backed away, grabbed their tools, and left.

“What… What about my dress?” I said to the scientist, who continued to tap away at her tablet computer. “Aren’t they going to dress me?”

“With the ceremony, you will not need a dress.” She stopped tapping away and raised her eyes to mine. “At least, not for very long.”

My stomach sank and the threat of spewing suddenly rose by several dozen percentage points.

The creature turned on her heel and marched toward the door.

My chair slid along a slit in the floor like a roller coaster, taking me out into the corridor.

I struggled and peered around for someone — anyone — who might be around to help me.

But there was no one.

With no other options, I threw back my head and screamed bloody murder.

For something — anything — to hear me.

I thought no one did.

I thought I was all alone.

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