Cael

by Annabelle Rex

  “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Asha said.

  Again, Chloe didn’t quite manage to hide her true feelings, a curl of distaste shaping the corners of her mouth. But when she spoke it was with a bland, placating voice. “A period outfit. From the war. For the tea party.”

  When each sentence drew a blank from Asha, Chloe just shook her head a little, lurching for the lift doors as they opened as if being in the small space with Asha and Cribishk was a nightmare she needed to escape.

  The suite Chloe lead them to was huge, but Asha didn’t have time to properly look around or appreciate the gaudy decadence. Almost as soon as she entered, a pair of alien medical staff herded her to the bathroom, where they’d set up a sanitised space. They gave her a proper translator and an ID chip in her wrist, both procedures hurting with a sharp suddenness that went as quickly as it came. The two aliens both gave her giddy smiles, the lizard-like woman declaring she was delighted to meet her, while the silent man typed agreement on his screen. Asha tried to palm the original translator, but the woman took it off her, smiling like she’d done Asha a big favour. Asha cursed silently. Now she had a translator in her skull, she wasn’t going to be just handed one of the external ones again.

  At least they were going to one of the street parties, Asha thought, mind whirring with new plans as she glanced at the time on her phone. Still only ten in the morning. The day felt like it had been a whole lot longer than that. She had an hour to give her blue shadow the slip and find her way to Buckingham Palace. Then she would find Nell and get the hell out of the city before Crastor realised she’d reneged on their little arrangement. She had the money. It wouldn’t go far, but it was something. Enough to get them somewhere safe where they could plan what to do next.

  Until she could get out on the street, she figured her best play was to go along with whatever the Intergalactic Community wanted.

  Which meant being prodded and poked and measured by the stylist, who showed Asha a range of dresses in colours that would ‘suit her warm skin tone’ or something. Asha looked at the delicate, intricate dresses - not exactly the kind of clothes you’d pair with shoes you could run in - and immediately turned her nose up.

  “No pockets,” she said when the stylist demanded to know why.

  “What on Earth do you need pockets for?”

  Asha held up her mobile phone. “I’m not sticking this down my bra. In case you hadn’t noticed,” she gestured to her chest, “not exactly big enough.”

  The stylist glanced at Cribishk, as if scandalised that Asha had said such a thing in front of him. Asha turned to the alien and muttered, “Why are we doing this again?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, glancing at the door to the suite as if it had the answers.

  Asha scanned past a multitude of other dresses, each as impractical as the last. Then, tucked away in the corner, she found a single rail that had uniforms hanging from it. She rooted through them, finding one that had a long skirt, shirt and tie, a form fitting jacket - with pockets large enough to conceal her phone, keys and cash - and a pair of boots she could definitely move quickly in.

  “That’s a bit more like it,” she said, holding it up against herself.

  “That’s an American Women’s Motor Corp uniform,” the stylist said, as Asha went behind the screens to change.

  “Perfect,” Asha said, slipping out of her own clothes. “I’m a car mechanic.”

  Just as she was cinching the belt in around her waist, the money tucked safely away without anyone noticing, the door to the suite banged open. A man who looked almost entirely Human, but for his clothes, walked in, tapping rapidly into a device that looked much like a Human tablet. Cribishk snapped to attention, stopping just shy of cracking out a salute. So, despite the fact that the guy approaching was not exactly an impressive physical specimen - handsome, sure, and no sign of paunch beneath his snugly fitted outfit, but nothing about him screamed ‘military’ like Cribishk did - he was clearly in charge.

  Before Cribishk could say anything, the stylist blustered forwards.

  “I did try to get her in to something a little more appropriate,” she said, before hurrying out of the room.

  Asha stepped out from behind the screens, pulling on the hat that finished the outfit. The newcomer looked her up and down, confusion on his face.

  “What’s wrong with what she’s wearing?” he said, turning to Cribishk.

  Cribishk turned to her, his eyes not visible behind his dark goggles.

  “I wouldn’t know, sir,” he said after a moment. “Lifeforms such as yours all look the same to me.”

  “What, like dinner?” Asha said, arching a teasing brow.

  Cribishk’s expression was impassive. “I wouldn’t eat you. Too scrawny.”

  Asha laughed. She was going to feel almost bad when she had to give him the slip.

  “Is this friendly banter?” the newcomer said, looking at her with eyes that, now she was closer, she could see were a piercing yellow. “You’re laughing, but you’ve got a lot of conflicting emotions.”

  “You can read my emotions?” Asha said.

  “Er, yes,” he said, perhaps sensing her displeasure.

  “Well, don’t. Please. That’s intruding on my privacy a bit, don’t you think?”

  “Of course, ma’am,” he said, stepping back. “My apologies.”

  Ma’am?

  Asha felt her annoyance start to bubble over. Anger at Crastor for putting her in this position, frustration that she’d been pushed from one place to another without being given any explanation - all of it about to burst out of her. She took a deep, steadying breath, trying to keep hold of her temper.

  “You know, perhaps I wouldn’t have such conflicting emotions if someone would take five minutes to tell me what the hell is going on,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.

  She knew she wasn’t tall enough to be truly intimidating, especially not stood next to Cribishk. But the newcomer seemed a little flustered, all the same. He clipped his tablet to his belt, smoothing down his trousers with his hands in what looked to Asha like a nervous tic.

  “Ah, again, my apologies.” He bobbed his head briefly. “My name is Tarkken H’Arran. I’m the Head of Security for the Station. I’m sorry for the subterfuge, ma’am, but when you have all the facts, I think you will appreciate the need for it.”

  “Asha.”

  “Pardon?” Tarkken said.

  “My name. It’s Asha.”

  He looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I am aware.”

  After a moment of awkward silence, Asha prompted him. “The facts?”

  “Right, yes, your Match.” He attempted to smile at her, but it looked about as unnatural on him as it did on Cribishk. “It’s Prince Cael.”

  All the annoyance Asha had been feeling popped like a balloon, a hollow sort of surprise left in its wake.

  “What?” she said.

  Chapter 6

  DESPITE HIS ASSURANCES TO TARKKEN THAT he would try to be present, Cael’s focus at the tea party was decidedly elsewhere. Fortunately, the Human woman sat next to him had rather a lot to say about almost everything. Cael barely had to nod his head and make sounds of assent and she did all the hard work of keeping the conversation going.

  After the longest half an hour of his life, the tea party concluded - to tumultuous applause from those gathered at the barricades, waving their flags and taking pictures. Cael had been looking forwards to this part - walking among the Humans, talking to them - but now all he could think about was where among the gathered crowds he would find her.

  Asha. Even the shape of her name delighted him.

  “Not a bad effort,” Randar said as Cael walked over to him. “Anyone who doesn’t know you well would have been fooled.”

  “I have many years of practice at smiling amicably while my mind is otherwise occupied,” Cael said. “Attending functions isn’t exactly an enthralling way to spend time as a young child.”

&n
bsp; He looked round at the crowds. The late, warm sunshine gave the day a relaxed, tranquil sort of feeling. Many families had gathered at the barricades, children sitting on a parent’s shoulders, or their little faces resting on the fencing, just tall enough to see over. The King of England walked round with his wife, speaking to them, accepting bunches of flowers and smiling for photographs. The more famous guests at the tea party were doing the same - signing t-shirts and posing for selfies, rattling buckets of spare change that they were collecting for charities that supported soldiers and their families.

  “I feel like this is the best of Humanity,” Cael said, watching it all happen with a smile. “Kind, generous, exuberant.”

  “Obsessed with waving things,” Randar said, accepting a flag held out towards him by a small child, who shrieked with delight when Randar waved it.

  Cael laughed, grinning widely at his bodyguard, his friend. He found himself filled with an effervescent sort of happiness. The sun was shining, the atmosphere was pleasant and before the day was over he would have met the woman he was destined to be with.

  He turned to Randar. “Things seem pretty calm and stable... how do you feel about giving Tarkken some more kittens by getting out from behind these barriers?”

  They strolled through St James’s Park, down a long pathway that ran alongside a large pond. Numerous Humans gave them curious glances, but almost all of them gave Cael and Randar a wide berth. A group of school age girls giggled behind their hands and tried to surreptitiously take photographs, but when Cael smiled at them, they scattered, disappearing into the crowds.

  “Are we really so unapproachable?” Cael said, glancing up at Randar. His bodyguard looked as relaxed as it was possible for him to get when on the job.

  “Angela says I can be intimidating when in ‘work mode’,” Randar said.

  Cael arched a brow. “Not to her, I hope.”

  Randar’s smirk was answer enough. “She’s… fond of the uniform.”

  Before Cael could summon a suitable answer, a child, probably younger than Sassi, toddled into their path, chasing after a ball. Cael stopped it with his foot, crouching to pick it up and pass it to the little girl. She grinned, tiny hands outstretched towards her prize.

  “Daisy!” a woman’s voice cried out.

  Hands reached down and scooped the little girl up. Cael rose to his feet, the ball still in his hand.

  “I’m so sorry,” the woman said, speaking to the floor, her eyes downcast even as Daisy wriggled in her arms, hands grasping towards her ball.

  Cael ran a finger along the translator behind his ear, powering it down. It was easier for him to speak Human English when he wasn’t hearing Allortasian in his ear all the time.

  “It’s no problem,” he said, trying not to let the lilt of his Allortasian accent stretch the words too far out of shape.

  The woman looked up, surprise in her expression.

  “You speak English?”

  “Not perfectly,” Cael said, handing the ball back to Daisy who squealed with delight then promptly threw it away from her again. “Ah, yes, I know this game. My niece liked to play this, too.”

  The woman flushed red as Randar walked over, ball in his outstretched hand.

  “I should probably take that,” she said, pocketing the ball, much to Daisy’s consternation. “Thank you.”

  “You… welcome,” Randar said, his rumbling voice halting as he searched for the English words.

  The woman bobbed her head, then hurried away, back to the rest of her family, who were having a picnic on the grass. Little Daisy waved at them, and Cael waved back, before turning his translator back on.

  “Close,” Cael said, shooting Randar a grin.

  “I’ve been trying to learn some basics,” he said with a small shrug. “But I don’t have much of an ear for languages.”

  Cael was about to tell him that even learning anything was impressive, but a strange sensation in his gut stopped him. He felt a sudden and inexplicable urge to turn round, his body itching to move, unsettled and uncomfortable, when he had been fine moments before. Then Randar’s attention focused on something over his shoulder, and Cael turned to see Cribishk heading towards him, the crowds of Humans giving him a wide berth too. And in between the crowds, Cael caught a glimpse of someone else. A young woman.

  Asha.

  His heart began to pound in his chest, anticipation and nerves mingling to leave him feeling flushed, almost uneasy. He’d counselled Randar not to be terrified when he was Matched with Angela, but now the moment was upon him, Cael found himself experiencing much the same apprehension. Would she like him immediately? Or would their path to happiness be more difficult? More pressingly, what in the multitudinous galaxies was he supposed to say to her? Words had never failed Cael before, but he could feel his mouth growing dry, as if his tongue was giving up.

  Suddenly, the idea to bring Asha here to the celebrations seemed short sighted. Yes, keeping her waiting would have been rude and not very pleasant for her, but at least that way they could have had this first conversation in private.

  “It’s not my place to comment,” Cribishk said, the guttural notes of his voice reaching Cael’s ears above the sounds of the Human crowds.

  “You’ve spent more than five minutes in my company,” a female voice responded. Asha’s voice. “You’ve got to be thinking this is ridiculous. Shouldn’t a Prince be Matched with someone who actually has their shit together? Preferably someone who looks like she could be a hair model. Don’t you think he’s going to be a little bit disappointed when he meets me?”

  At last the crowd cleared enough that Cael could get a proper look at her. She was walking backwards in front of Cribishk, apparently confident that the bodyguard’s presence would clear the path ahead of her. Next to him she looked tiny, a dainty little thing in a green brown uniform, the skirt almost all the way down to her ankles - as was the fashion at the time of the war. She was wearing a cap of some sort, which it appeared she’d tucked her hair up in to. On her feet, a practical pair of boots. Facing away as she was, Cael couldn’t see much more than that.

  “It’s not my place to comment,” Cribishk said again, watching her, the crowds. He hadn’t noticed Cael ahead of him yet.

  “I’m just saying,” Asha said, “if I hadn’t gone to my sister’s for a proper shower, I’d probably still have motor oil in my hair right now. And I definitely still have dirt under my nails - which I don’t manicure. In truth, I only stopped biting them about three years ago. I’m a hot mess. Regal and elegant are not adjectives that have ever come anywhere near to describing me.”

  Being Iridaskae, Cribishk was hard to get a read on. The dark goggles that protected his sensitive eyes from Earth’s bright sunlight meant some expressiveness in his face was lost. But Cael hadn’t grown up learning to navigate court life for nothing. He could see how Cribishk was tensed, hyper vigilant, micro movements of his head indicating he was constantly scanning the crowds - as any good bodyguard should. But also, a small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. Amusement, with a measure of affection. Despite her protestations, Asha had clearly made a good impression on her bodyguard.

  “You seem okay to me,” Cribishk said.

  Asha laughed. “That’s so reassuring coming from you, Mr ‘you all look the same’.”

  Cribishk just shrugged. “You are not inadequate company.”

  “Wow. I’m glad I’m not your Match. Such passion - we’d only both get burnt.”

  She turned so she was walking forwards, and Cael caught a brief glimpse of a wide grin, eyes bright with laughter, before she spotted him and stopped dead.

  In that moment, it was as if the rest of the people in the park didn’t exist. Time and space narrowed to just the two of them, his whole being laser focused on her. She somehow managed not to look too out of place in the war era uniform. Tendrils of brown hair escaped from beneath the cap that completed the outfit, framing her face, the slight breeze making them flutter. Cael ne
arly ran a hand through his own rock solid hair, wishing he hadn’t bowed to the Human stylist’s suggestion to trap it in place.

  How could she think he would be disappointed? Everything about her, from the slope of her neck to the soft fullness of her lips, caught his attention. She was beautiful, but it wasn’t just that. The playful way she spoke with Cribishk suggested a sense of humour. She also clearly had no problem with speaking her mind, which was a trait Cael appreciated. A slow smile started spreading across his face, even as something more primal tugged at his gut, desire flaring up inside him.

  Asha staggered forwards a step, before turning to glare at Cribishk, who had apparently tried to encourage her forwards.

  “I’m capable of walking, thank you,” she said, swatting him away, before squaring her shoulders and walking towards Cael.

  With each step closer she took, the roaring in his ears grew louder, more overwhelming, the Imorna rushing in his blood in response to her proximity. It was exactly as Allendi had described - Asha took up every inch of his awareness, warmth suffusing his skin at the sight of her. Then she was next to him and his blood suddenly silenced, all sound outside of his immediate vicinity muting with it, as if he didn’t have space in his mind for anything except her.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi,” Cael replied.

  For a moment, they just stood there - Cael transfixed by the dusting of freckles across her nose, the startling grey of her eyes. He was no closer to knowing what to say to her, words scattering like a cloud of delicate butterflies every time he tried to line a few up. For her part, she seemed to be studying him, her eyes narrowing a fraction as they tracked across his face. She had to have seen his picture before - enough Human newspapers and magazines had featured stories about him, positive and negative. He only hoped she’d seen more of the positive.

  “Am I supposed to curtsey or something?” she said, after a moment.