The Pirate Prince

by Michelle M. Pillow

  At his words, a secretive look passed over her great-grandmother’s face. Mei ignored it, unable to process anything else at the moment.

  I’m going to have a child and get married? What?

  She wasn’t sure which was worse news, marriage or a baby. The truth was, Mei hadn’t really considered either prospect seriously. Ever. To be married would be to remain tied to Lintian, even more so than she was now.

  “No, it’s wrong,” Mei protested. She clutched her hand against her stomach. Her entire body shook, and she couldn’t get past the fact that she was to have a baby. She wasn’t ready for that. The husband she could deal with, if she had to, but the baby? Everything was happening too fast. “Do it again, grandmother. Please. Look again. I beg you.”

  An sighed, but moved to the basin to oblige. Running her hand over the cool water, she rippled it with her ghostly finger. A soft glow covered the woman’s transparent features as her ethereal brown eyes again turned a milky white. “Positive. I see you large with child. A baby is to be conceived of royal blood. The next prince who is not of the Zhang bloodline whose path you cross will be both father and husband.”

  “Lok,” the emperor whispered, confirming her fears. Her father’s expression fell somewhat at the news of Prince Lok, but when he caught her staring at him, dumbfounded, he hid the look and again smiled. “Prince Lok is a fine choice. You are to travel to the Mountain Palace with your brother to meet with the Song family. It will be the perfect time for you to get to know him. I will not mention the prophecy to Emperor Song. Fate will take care of the details.”

  “But,” Mei swallowed nervously, “I don’t have to go. Am I really needed there? I just asked to go because—”

  “You were compelled,” her father said softly.

  Mei bit her lip and dutifully nodded, even as she thought, because I wanted to get out of this place for a while.

  “You cannot run from fate,” An said. “In the end, she will find you.”

  “But—” Mei tried to protest. “Fate has been changed in the past. Father, you said so yourself. Fate has been altered by those brave enough to fight her. Let me stay here this time.”

  “Those are merely stories, mèimei,” her father said. “Folktales. They are used to teach lessons, not to be taken literally. Besides, we already told the Songs that you would be joining your brother. To back out now would be an insult.”

  “But, Father, aren’t all tales based in truth? You once told me that—”

  “I see no more and am drained,” her great-grandmother interrupted. Mei opened her mouth to continue, but the breeze suddenly gusted around her and swept the old woman’s figure over the offering of wine before both she and the drink vanished, pitcher and all.

  “Many congratulations, my daughter,” the emperor said, lightly patting her shoulder when they were alone. “This is a very fine match.”

  Mei’s mouth opened, hanging slack as she tried to find the right words of protest. When her great-grandmother had summonsed her to the Sacred Chamber, this was the last news she expected to hear. In fact, she’d hoped for quite the opposite—adventure and intrigue while visiting the Mountain Palace of Singhai. Instead, she got marriage and children.

  “We don’t know for sure,” Mei whispered. “Great-grandmother could’ve read the future wrong. It’s hard to interpret.”

  “Fate is just that, my daughter. Fate.” The emperor gave her a smile of understanding. “And An has a great blessing. She would not speak if there were a chance she was wrong. You are to marry Prince Lok. Remember, these things do not happen without reason. Your marriage must be of great importance to our people and to theirs. It will seal the bond between us, a bond that could use sealing. Trust the fates to bless you with years of happiness and a joyous future.”

  Mei again opened her mouth. Swaying on her feet, a sensation of numb weakness came over her. She felt her father’s arms around her as her body crumbled into a mindless heap, sucked into the blackness of denial.

  2

  Shan Gung Din (Mountain Palace) of the Song Dynasty, Singhai Territory

  Two weeks later…

  Princess Zhang Mei kept her expression completely blank as she looked across the long table. It wasn’t difficult. She’d been sitting on the floor for what felt like hours when, in fact, it had only been about thirty minutes. Cupping the small bowl of tea before her, she lifted it to her lips and sipped the hot liquid. It was spiced differently than she was used to, but was good nonetheless. After being in Shan Gung Din, she found many things were like that, different, but tolerable. It wasn’t surprising, as both ways of life were derived from similar Old Earth cultures long ago.

  How long until different becomes intolerable? How long until the loneliness of being in a place where everyone thinks they’re culturally superior to me sets in? How long until I’m forced to marry Prince Song Lok?

  Mei glanced down at her stomach, knowing it wouldn’t be very long at all if her great-grandmother’s prediction were true. The sad thing was, An wasn’t known for being wrong. When she dreamed of getting away from the palace, this wasn’t what she’d had in mind. Suddenly, the idea of living anywhere else scared her.

  The table they sat at was low to the ground, perfect for kneeling to dine. Low cushions padded her knees as she rested back on her legs. She was losing feeling in them, but they were at Emperor Song’s palace of Shan Gung Din as guests, and she didn’t dare insult him by wiggling in her seat.

  Mei refused to dwell of her great-grandmother’s prediction. Fate may be fate, but surely seeing the future was not an exact art. It was possible her great-grandmother misread. Not very likely, but possible.

  Wasn’t it?

  Blessed ancestors, please be wrong.

  Mei swallowed nervously, realizing she was dwelling when she’d just told herself she wasn’t going to do that. She glanced again to Lok, who was across the table next to his father, Emperor Song. Every part of her wanted to put him off, to demand he stay away from her. Could she really be expected to have this man’s child? To live in this palace with his snob of a father?

  There was no doubt in her mind that the emperor was a snob. No, not just a snob. He was an elitist snob, and his son was little better from what she could tell. Though her father would be disappointed that she didn’t want to marry Prince Lok, she knew he’d never force her. Forced and arranged marriages were a thing of the past though all marriages had to be approved by the royal astrologers before a proper union could be made. Normally, it was just for ceremony, though what was discovered could give great insight into the couple’s future.

  If not for her family’s desire to make a favorable impression on the neighboring family, she’d have walked out long ago. Duty had been bred into her very soul, and she knew, that if fate truly had picked Prince Lok, then duty would demand she honor fate. However, if Lok didn’t honor fate, that wasn’t her fault. Was it? She didn’t have to make him want her. There was no reason she’d have to go out of her way to please him.

  Prince Lok was her social equal, raised much like she was. He was skilled in the ancient martial arts. With their background, she’d have expected they would have much in common, or at least something to discuss. However, when she was left alone with the prince, all he did was stare at her, his expression blank and his eyes probing. It was likely he didn’t think the youngest daughter of Emperor Zhang was good enough for him.

  I wonder if he’d consider any woman good enough for him. Mei made a face into her tea cup so they couldn’t see.

  Lok was the only male heir to the throne which would make him naturally picky. She would expect the same from Haun, though future emperor or not, Mei would never think anyone was good enough for her brother. She had yet to be introduced to Lok’s triplet sisters. Since her stay was about over, she doubted she would be introduced to them at all. That in itself was a little rude of the Song family.

  Mei turned her attention back to the Song men before her. Behind the two royals, a long r
ow of pu ren waited to tend the table. The pu ren were handmaidens who came to the palace to wait on the royal family and hopefully attract a husband of consequence from the guards. They were usually from noble or well-to-do households.

  The Zhang family had their fair share of pu ren over the centuries, though none were employed at the Muntong court at present. Each of the women wore a pien-fu, an ancient style two-piece silk garment that was often used in old ceremonies when their people had lived on Earth. They varied in color but consisted of a tunic gown with long, square sleeves that extended to the knees and a skirt that reached to the floor. Even though some of the ancient Earth ways no longer applied to their modern culture, all of the Lintianese people clung to the traditions of the past.

  Mei sat next to her brother, Prince Haun, the oldest child and heir to the Zhang throne. Haun was ten years older than her, but they’d always been close. Mei would be lying if she didn’t admit that she had always idolized him. When she was a little girl, he’d been so strong and powerful. Now, as she was older, he was still those things, but she saw that he was also generous and kind. He would make a great ruler someday.

  “Princess Mei,” the foreign emperor acknowledged, his eyes roaming over her clothing.

  Mei couldn’t tell if it was approval or displeasure on his blank, bored expression though he did seem to look her over quite a bit. The Zhang were more modernized in style instead of the traditional fashions the people of Singhai preferred. Even so, her robe was belted tightly around her waist until it cut off her circulation. The pu ren had been sent to help her dress, and they’d insisted on cinching it tight. Not wanting to refuse Emperor Song’s hospitality, she let them.

  “You do not speak tonight,” Emperor Song continued.

  “Why speak when I would hear one of your lovely pu ren sing?” Mei answered, her voice low and sweet.

  She saw her brother stiffen next to her and knew he was holding back his laughter. The little show she put on for the Song family was just that, a show. She was not meek or mild in her opinions or her convictions. However, she knew when to strike like a snake and when to be the timid, pretty flower. Mastering the art of both was what made her such a good negotiator. As the youngest and smallest of six children, negotiating had come in handy growing up. Otherwise, she’d have been teased mercilessly by her five siblings.

  “Perhaps another time, sister,” Haun said before the emperor could answer. “The boat waits for us.”

  Mei hid her sigh of relief. Haun knew of the prophecy and was saving her from enduring the Song family any longer. His negotiations were done for the most part, though whether he was satisfied remained to be seen. However, if it wasn’t this negotiation, there would be something else with which he’d have to deal. Such was Haun’s life and responsibility. Though nothing was said officially, the Zhang siblings had seen their oldest brother slowly taking over more and more responsibilities.

  Haun stood, prompting the other men to do the same. Mei was the last to her feet. The stinging sensation of blood returning to her legs made her stand completely still though it took everything in her not to make a run for the docks. She’d made it through the ordeal without a proposal. The knot in her stomach began to lessen. This was it. Prince Lok had shown no interest. Her great-grandmother was wrong. She wouldn’t have to marry him.

  “You have honored us with your visit, Prince Haun,” Lok said when his father didn’t speak. Mei folded her hands in front of her, itching to get into a pair of silk pants and stretch her legs. The robe’s thick belt only seemed to pull tighter against her ribs. “We will speak with the mining corporation about your family’s concerns—”

  “I assure you, there is nothing to be concerned about,” the emperor interrupted, giving his son a stern glance.

  “I’m sorry to disagree with you, emperor, but there is much to be concerned about,” said Haun. “The Zhang people—”

  “The Lin Yao mines have supplied our people with the sacred purple jade for centuries. The trade is too valuable and profitable to our dynasty. Why would we need to resort to manufacturing chandoo?” The emperor frowned, holding out his arms. “Do you presume to insult me? Do I look like a common intergalactic drug trader?”

  “Not you, Emperor Song,” Haun answered, not backing down. Mei was proud of him. The emperor was an intimidating man. “But maybe those within the Lin Yao Mining Company. When we analyzed the clothing taken from those on the ship, they were covered with traces of the mine dust. All we ask is that you look into it. Consider it a favor to the Zhang family.”

  The emperor’s frown deepened as he looked down his nose at Haun. “I owe no favors to the—”

  Lok placed a hand on his father’s shoulder, but looked at the Zhang prince. “Please, we have been through this. We have heard your plea and will act. There is nothing further to discuss. I give you my word I will personally go to the mines and investigate these claims.”

  Mei studied Lok’s hand on Emperor Song’s arm. True, she didn’t know the emperor or his family that well, but it seemed an odd gesture for the son to do. The emperor didn’t say anything at the interruption but merely nodded once. The idea that Lok was taking over for his emperor, as Haun was for their father, struck her. In her head, she’d thought of marrying the Song prince, not the Song emperor. Lok’s father wasn’t an eligible husband, so his hand was never considered in the prophecy, but Lok would someday be emperor.

  Empress Song Mei.

  Mei trembled, as she thought of all her mother’s duties. She did not want to be her mother. Yes, she loved the empress, but Mei had no desire to be the woman or to carry her royal burdens.

  Haun bowed at the waist, his hands joined palm to fist in front of his chest. Mei dutifully nodded her head, though she wasn’t addressed. The blood rushing through her ears drowned out sound as the men took their leave of each other.

  Her brother stepped back from the low table and gestured for her to follow him. Mei did so without question, trailing properly behind him in respect. When they were alone, she hurried to his side. Taking a deep breath, she said suspiciously, “They hide something.”

  Haun quirked a brow but didn’t answer.

  “Prince Lok,” she continued thoughtfully. “There was something odd about the way he was acting. I know we aren’t acquainted with the man, but there was something...”

  Haun still didn’t respond.

  “I know you think I’m crazy, but I sense that some—”

  “The air has ears, and the walls have eyes, mèimei.” Haun’s mouth drew into a faint smile even though his eyes stayed forward. “And right now my head is telling me you have no wish to marry the prince.”

  Mei sighed, saying no more as she nodded in agreement. He was right. Her judgment of the situation would be off due to her desire not to be there, not to have such a fate. She slowed her step, falling behind her brother as she followed him toward the palace docks. He was right. It was possible she was just fighting destiny and trying to find fault where there was none.

  “Zài-jiàn, Shan Gung Din,” she said under her breath, happy to be leaving the Mountain Palace. “Goodbye, Singhai Empire.”

  Haun glanced over his shoulder with a smirk, and she realized he’d heard her talking to herself. Without a word, he turned forward.

  Mei smiled at his back as she continued on in silence.

  3

  “What in the blazing star trails are we doing here, cap?” Evan Cormier grumbled, running his fingers through his short black hair. His eyes were focused on the great Lintianese palace before them. “What has that space cadet gotten us into now? I told him to leave that woman alone. I told him she was trouble, but can Rick ever see past his own lust? No! She batted her eyelashes at him and off he went like a little remloch mindlessly following a Grishelm floral dragon.”

  Jarek glanced at Evan and hid his smile. Evan was a good man to have on a crew, a hard worker and a hell of a smart guy. The man was part telepath, a fact he didn’t share with too many,
and it was those skills that Evan was referring to now. Rick was the pilot on their ship, The Conqueror, and every inch a playboy. Evan had warned him against going with the dark-haired enchantress who had flirted with him on Leinad’s star port where they’d stopped for fuel, but Rick hadn’t listened. The enchantress had kidnaped him, for some reason still unknown to them, and taken him with her to the far reaches of the planet of Lintian. Though, knowing Rick, he’d opened his big mouth and said something stupid to insult her. It wasn’t likely she’d taken him with her because she couldn’t live without him.

  So, now they were on Lintian to save him. Jarek knew Evan was irritated by this detour. They were all irritated by the detour, but Rick was their friend, and they would never leave him behind—no matter how stupid he’d acted which resulted in getting kidnaped by an intergalactic drug trader.

  “We’re here because we’re rescuing Dev’s best friend,” Lochlann teased, dryly. He was the only crew member aboard The Conqueror from Jarek’s home planet of Qurilixen. Jarek was a Var, a cat-shifter. Lochlann was a Draig, a dragon-shifter. Usually, the Var and Draig were at war, but Jarek had never seen a reason for it. It was why he’d left his homeland and why his good friend, Lochlann, had come with him. In the wide open skies of space, things like race didn’t matter. Everyone was different.

  Dev snorted at Lochlann’s comment but said nothing. The group of men tried to contain their laughter. Dev was half Belvon, a demonic looking race with red skin and a very stern temperament. Aside from the intense coloring, he appeared humanoid, only larger. He was the ship’s muscle and a bit of a loner. Rick was the polar opposite of Dev. The Belvon was all about maintaining order. Rick was all about breaking it. It often led to humorous fights. Sometimes when the crew was bored, they’d provoke them into an argument for the sake of entertainment. But, when it came down to it, if Rick was in trouble, Dev was there just like everyone else to bail him out. They were like a family.