Page 7 of The Alien Noble's Little Human

“Can I see how awake I am?”

“Of course, sweetheart. She’ll be here very soon, though. We can just come up to see you, if you’d like.”

She nods her head, and I brush her forehead with my hand. It’s burning hot.

“She’s about to be here I think, so I’m going to meet her now. I’ll make sure she’s good enough to bring her to you.”

“I hope she’s nice,” she murmurs.

“Nice I can live without. I just need competent.”

I trudge down the stairs, knowing I’m setting us both up for disappointment.

The doors open wide as soon as I get to the atrium by the entrance, and I see the human healer. She’s in clothing that’s so out of place that at first I think it must be a joke. It’s a dun, faded color, streaked with what looks like mud. My anger immediately rises.

“Sir, this is Zaya Norland, the healer Talan referred to you.”

“Artisan,” she corrects. I scoff, and she notices. She scowls. The flash of anger in her eyes should infuriate me, but there’s something alluring about the fire seizing hold of her.

Despite her threadbare clothes and disrespectful manner, there’s an odd beauty about this creature, with her large light brown eyes the color of raw almonds. Her hair is reddish, reminiscent of the copper deposits in the caverns on the edges of the capital, and it sets a path down to her graceful shoulders.

In one respect I’m grateful for her clothing, because I can see the outline of her fiendish curves. Her skin is so clear as to be luminous, with a healthy glow in the apples of her cheeks.

Even if she can’t heal my daughter, I won’t mind looking at her while she tries. I straighten my tunic, seeing her eyes wandering down to my chest, and I pray to the Divine Ones that my anatomy doesn’t betray my interest.

“Pleased to meet you, Doctor Artisan. Are your healing methods hand-crafted? Maybe that’s what the previous experts have been missing?”

I can tell she’s gritting her teeth. Good. I don’t want her to get too comfortable. She should be nervous, because the stakes of this meeting are higher than the value of her life.

“I do use my hands, but I don’t presume to be any kind of healer. I have knowledge from books, and I have applied knowledge of certain curative elements from literally getting my hands dirty. I am here as a favor to my friend and out of a sense of obligation to help my brethren in the Mountain Kingdom. I’m not sure if I’ll find more success than previous visitors. All I know is I will do my best.”

On the one hand, it gratifies me to know that she doesn’t think too highly of herself. On the other, I’d be willing to accept an over-inflated ego if it gave her a greater chance of healing Hanai.

“Serge, please see to it that Sarna outfits our guest with more appropriate clothing, and please make sure that she’s never unsupervised. Post a guard outside of her room.”

“Do you treat all the doctors this way?”

“Do you always present yourself to royalty with such disrespect?” It’s as though she’s incapable of basic decorum.

“I’ve had the pleasure of not interacting with many royals. And in Mountain Kingdom, there’s no such thing. It’s a confederation of clans. Your family is the glorified tiebreaker. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go and let them dress me appropriately. I don’t have any airs on yet. Hopefully they’ll fix that.”

We glare at each other for a moment before I can’t bear to look at her a second longer. “Sarna, Serge. Please alert me when it’s time to retrieve her for the examination.”

4

ZAYA

I’m in my ‘appropriate’ clothes for the Mountain Kingdom, which are really just glorified sheets not much different than what I was wearing. You would think they would appreciate leaving my life in the middle of everything, in such a hurry that I didn’t care about changing, but of course not.

However, if I had insisted they wait, I know they would have pointed out my vanity. There’s no winning with these types. I want to be out of here as soon as possible.

I leave the changing room and alert the guard that I’m ready for Taurek, who of course makes me wait. After several minutes of sitting in a chair, wasting everyone’s time, I see the muscled outline of Taurek, and I stand.

“Are you going to let me examine your daughter now or…?”

Just seeing his arrogant face makes me angry, but his gladiator’s physique sends a delightful tension through every cell in my body. He’s an asshole. But he’s hot.

Any other day I’d celebrate the opportunity to put some asshole Kiphian in their place. And a chance to do it to a Prince, that’s the dream. But all of that goes out the window when a kid is in danger and when my time is being wasted.

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