by Mills, Shae
Korba ran his hands down her slender arms. “What would you have me do, Chelan? What can I do to make you feel more secure? I will do anything you ask.”
Chelan still did not speak, and indeed, she could not. Her confusion ran too deep.
Korba straightened, his concern for her and her fears gnawing at him. “Chelan, there are going to be times when you may be alone for short periods of time, and unless you strike up other friendships within these walls, Ticees may be your only companion. You must try to accept him and put away your unfounded fears. He is my friend, Chelan, and I want him to be your friend also.”
Korba watched her a while longer, utterly perplexed and deeply frustrated by the whole odd scenario. He reached for her chin and raised her head up. “We will talk about this some more, but right now I really need to get some sleep, okay?”
Chelan nodded but did not move.
Korba stepped around her and began removing his uniform. He entered the shower and then looked at her, her body still inert, her back to him.
He continued to watch her from the shower until she finally receded into the shadows of the bedroom. He shook his head again. She just needed time, that was all. Everything was too new, too unfamiliar. As the time passed and she became more comfortable in her new world, her fears would fade. Besides, with all the laws that governed his society, she was safe.
Chelan moved to the bed and crawled under the blankets, curling up into a tight ball. She attempted to fortify herself, but her tears were defiant, and they flowed in silence. Though she knew Korba had attempted to understand, she felt desperately alone, her situation completely untenable. She appreciated Korba’s perspective, but that was of little conciliation. Ticees was trouble—she could feel it in the marrow of her bones—and right now she felt powerless to thwart him.
She closed her eyes as she felt Korba slip in beside her and coil around her. But she could not face him. Her stomach was in a knot again, but she chose to suffer in silence.
Korba could feel her subdued quivering. He pressed into her and stroked her arm. “You’ll be okay,” he whispered, kissing the back of her neck.
“I know,” she lied, suppressing a cry of anguish. She bit her lip so hard she tasted her blood. “I know,” she whispered again, as if trying to convince herself.
Korba wrapped himself about her in an impermeable shield and quietly went to sleep, but Chelan passed in and out of uneasy slumber. Morning came, and still she could not sleep. Then she thought of breakfast with Ticees. Suddenly she felt ill, and she slipped from the blankets and ran to the washroom. Chelan was sure she was going to be sick, falling to her knees and grasping at her convulsing stomach. She panted for air, her head spinning, her body cold.
Then she jumped as Korba touched her shaking shoulder. “Oh, my Lady,” he whispered as he cleared her hair from her face and turned her to him. “Are you okay?” But she did not have to answer him. Her face was ashen, and her lack of sleep was obvious.
“Do you wish to skip breakfast this morning?”
Chelan shook her head hurriedly. “No,” she blurted.
“Chelan,” he said sternly, startling her. “You do not have to attend if you do not feel well. Ticees issued no such order.”
“It’s okay,” she uttered, and she scurried to her feet, ran into the bedroom scooped up her gown, and dressed hurriedly.
Korba strode after her. He grabbed her arm, turning her to him. “Damn it, Chelan! I don’t know what to do for you. Please tell me what I can do to help you. Please.”
Chelan was struggling for air. Suddenly, she collapsed against him, her drained body weak and her emotions leaching out of her like blood from a punctured artery. “Please,” she began desperately, “please, I want to become pregnant. I want your child within me.” She clutched him frantically. “Please,” she begged.
Korba was dumbstruck. He swallowed, trying to wet his suddenly dry throat. “Chelan,” he whispered as he held her close. “It’s too soon.”
For reasons she could not explain, she had considered carrying Korba’s child to be her last defense against Ticees, and he had turned her down. She pushed away from him violently and ran from the room. She moved quickly down the connecting corridors and burst forcibly into Fremma’s quarters.
“Chelan!” Fremma exclaimed, startled by her unceremonious entry. “What’s wrong?”
Chelan slumped against the wall while she caught her breath, but before either of them could speak, Korba crashed through the doors, still doing up his jacket.
“What the hell is going on?” yelled Fremma.
Chelan pushed herself from the wall. “Nothing’s wrong,” she shouted. She began pacing while running her fingers through her disheveled hair. She lowered her voice. “Oh god, I’m losing it, I swear.”
Fremma looked at Korba; the Warlord’s features betrayed his helplessness. Fremma drew in a deep breath. “Ticees, I assume,” he began.
Chelan continued to pace, trying to gain control of herself while desperately trying to come up with a case against Ticees. Finally she gave up. “Okay, I submit,” she said weakly. “I’m sorry, Korba.” She turned and looked up at him through weary eyes. She hugged herself tightly. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.
Korba glanced at Fremma and then back to her. “We’ll watch him, Chelan. I promise you that. Please accept that. Fremma knows of your concerns. I know not what else to do.”
Chelan nodded as she straightened herself. “Okay,” she breathed.
Fremma’s eyes narrowed. “Has something else happened?”
Chelan rubbed and stretched her aching neck, her tension cinching her muscles tight.
Korba looked at Fremma. “What did Ticees say to you earlier?”
Fremma shrugged. “He wanted me to go over a list of warriors for the training fields from RIBUS 7, and he told me that although you had wanted me to speak to Chelan about the length of your meeting, he would do so during a brief break he was taking. That was it. Why? What happened?” His eyes darted between Chelan and Korba.
Korba spoke. “He did indeed deliver the message to Chelan, but she was rendered uneasy by his approach.”
Fremma smiled. “That would be expected. Ticees can be like a defective transport trying to maneuver among delicate jewels. He is not a subtle man.”
Chelan finally allowed a small smile to tweak the corners of her mouth.
Fremma then laughed. “Actually, I’m surprised he hasn’t stripped before you and offered you himself served up on a platter. He’s not beyond that.”
Chelan finally laughed. “That would be a picture.”
Fremma chuckled. “Depending on one’s mood and inclinations, it would either be a sexual feast for the eyes and the body, or it would be a bloody intimidating demand. I can understand where you might fit within that spectrum of extremes.”
Chelan’s eyes twinkled as she looked at the two men. “I may have overreacted.”
Korba shook his head. “It is always wise to heed one’s sixth sense, my Lady. We understand, and we will be wary, but as Fremma has pointed out, Ticees is not subtle. Add to the fact that he has probably never dealt with anyone as sensitive as you, and it’s simply a poor combination at best. Between us all, we’ll pound him into shape.”
Chelan’s cheeks pinked, and though she was tired, she felt a degree of rejuvenation. Fremma walked up to her and turned her from him. “While your man goes and finishes preparing for breakfast, I will tend to you. You’re a mess.” And gently he began to comb out the long tangles of her hair.
Chelan held still while Fremma struggled with her locks. “I’m sorry, Fremma, it was wet when I went to bed, and I forgot to braid it.” Then she looked up into Korba’s eyes. “Am I forgiven?” she whispered.
Korba gently touched her pretty cheek. “There is nothing to forgive.” And he leaned down and kissed her on the mouth. Then he returned to their suite for his shroud and weapons.
Fremma put the comb down and turned her to him. “Let’s not
delay. I believe that breakfast is served.”
Korba returned and took Chelan by the arm, and the three of them walked into the breakfast area. Ticees rose and greeted Korba and Fremma warmly. Then he turned to Chelan. “Ah, my Lady. How delightful to see you this morning.”
Chelan nodded as he kissed her hand, and then he led her to her chair at his left.
“I’m afraid that Dar and Toran continued on after we left last night, and I strongly doubt that either of them is in any shape for breakfast.”
All three men chuckled, but Chelan could manage only a small smile. Just being in the same room as Ticees sent a chill down her spine. Soon, the mammoth breakfast was served, and though Chelan participated in the conversation, she barely touched her meal.
Finally Ticees stopped eating and looked at her. “Chelan,” he called, his voice causing her to flinch. “Are you all right, my Lady?”
Chelan looked directly at him for the first time in the morning. “Yes, my Lord,” she began. “It’s simply too early for me, I’m afraid.” He smiled at her, but she looked away and stared blankly at her unappetizing meal.
“Well, I’m glad you are okay, my Lady, because I have a special tour arranged for you.”
Chelan’s eyes shot to his, and her breath lodged in her throat.
“I know that Korba has some men to train this morning along with Fremma, and since Dar and Toran are incapacitated, I thought I might show you my personal gardens.”
Chelan stiffened, but she fought off the urge to turn away from him. She gallantly quelled the rising tide of panic. After all, Korba and Fremma were probably right. It was quite likely that her problems were the result of her Earthly perceptions of the man, and not actually Ticees himself. Besides, it was probably unwise to shun the Emperor, no matter what the cost to her initially. It would only take some time for her to adjust to the man, and if she warmed to him, maybe all of them would be better off in the long run.
He continued. “I have collected flowers and plants from all over the galaxy, and I keep a large number of people employed with their care. I’m sure you would enjoy the tour, if Korba would permit me to take you under my wing for a few hours.”
Chelan did not even look at Korba. She set her jaw, determined to take control and ignore her tumbling stomach. “That would be fine, my Lord,” she replied.
Ticees was obviously pleased, and he continued to look at her warmly as she returned her gaze to her plate. “Well, then. After Korba has taken off, you can meet me in my chambers, and we will take it from there.”
“Yes, my Lord,” she answered stiffly, glancing up at him.
Korba reached for her and squeezed her leg in reassurance. She smiled at him while feeling a lump form in her throat. Quickly, she resumed picking at her food in an effort to keep herself from dwelling on what she had just agreed to.
Finally, the meal was over, and she watched Ticees exchange pleasantries with Korba and Fremma and then disappear. The two men rose, and Chelan pushed her chair back, but her legs failed her, and she could not stand.
Korba offered her his hand. Chelan accepted silently and followed him back to their chambers, bidding Fremma a temporary good-bye. Chelan immediately headed for the washroom and splashed cool water on her face. She was numb and felt as though she had just received a death sentence complete with everyone’s blessings, including her own. Slowly, she patted her face dry and looked up into the mirror just as Korba walked up behind her.
“Are you okay?” he asked as his hands gently squeezed her shoulders.
Chelan simply nodded and left the washroom. She knew that if she opened her mouth to speak she would lose control, so she kept her jaw clamped tight.
Korba stood at the entrance, watching her as she straightened the bed, her movements heavy, her spark once again extinguished. “We have maids for that,” he reminded quietly.
Chelan ignored him and continued.
Korba hung his head temporarily, deep in thought. He looked up at her from under his brow. “You did not have to accept, Chelan,” he commented flatly.
Chelan froze at his words, her guts turning. She looked down, watching her hands turn white as she wrung the sheet with them. “I know,” she whispered, and her vision clouded. “But it was the right thing to do.” She saw him approach her, and she panicked. “I think I’ll go now,” she said hurriedly, and she rushed past him and through the main doors, leaving him standing in stunned silence.
Chelan walked the short corridor toward Ticees’ chambers. Taking several deep breaths, she smoothed her gown and straightened her shoulders. When she reached the doors she stopped, her heart pounding. She knocked, and the doors immediately swung open.
Ticees stood and smiled warmly at her. “Welcome, my Lady. You are here sooner than I expected, but I am pleased.”
Chelan forced a smile and walked into the room, allowing the doors to close behind her.
“Here,” he said without preamble. “I had this made for you,” and he presented her with a beautiful pink cloak.
Chelan’s eyes widened, and Ticees beamed with delight. “I tracked down Dredon to find out what you had used to dye that beautiful pink gown. I also noticed how lovely you looked in your white cloak, so I had this one made.”
Ticees walked up to her and placed it gently over her shoulders. Chelan sank her fingers into the plush exotic fur and looked down at the beautiful garment. The outside of the hood was decorated with the same sequins as her gown, and she was in awe. “Thank you,” she whispered, in genuine appreciation.
“It’s the least I can do, my Lady. It befits your graceful beauty, and I assure you that there will be many more where that came from.”
Ticees smiled at her and then turned away to retrieve his shroud and weapons. “Shall we go?” he asked, offering her his arm and pointing to the door.
Chelan finally returned a sincere smile, partially out of thanks for the cloak, but mostly out of relief for leaving his chambers untouched.
The walk was fairly short and pleasant as he led her along the inner Palace wall and through several large rooms. The whole area was lavish and rich, abounding with fine tapestries, luxurious furniture, and beautiful precious metals and fine wood carvings. It was a picture of opulence, a true fantasy palace fit for kings and queens.
They passed through a highly fortified security area, and there he stopped and turned to her. “We have to go outside for a bit, my Lady, and it is extremely cold. Some of my personal guards will accompany us as far as the entrance to the gardens, but from there we will be on our own. I have given the workers the morning off so that there will be no interruptions. My guards have already been through the grounds, and all is secure.”
Chelan’s eyes remained fixed to his handsome features as he continued. “Now, though the walk outside is relatively short, it is very cold, and the winds are high. So, my Lady, I hope you do not take offense, but you are wise to allow me to carry you. Even with the fur, the cloak will not be sufficient to protect you adequately, and your face will be too sensitive.”
Chelan swallowed hard, not wishing any contact with him, but she knew it was folly for her to protest.
“Now, sit down,” he instructed as he pointed to a chair.
Chelan sat, and he knelt down before her. He gently pushed her legs up and back, gathering the cloak about her legs and feet. Then, carefully, he bound the bottom of the cloak upon itself, the material adhering together as the shrouds did to the warriors’ boots and gloves.
“Okay,” he said, looking up into her face. “I want you to hug your arms around your torso.”
Chelan nodded and complied.
Ticees smiled. “Now, the cloak will not insulate you as well as our uniforms or shrouds, so when I pick you up, I’m going to tuck you inside mine. I also want you to bury your face in my neck for protection. Use my hair to help.”
Chelan flinched, and Ticees smiled. “Don’t worry, Chelan. I’m not going to bite.”
Chelan smiled unexpected
ly and then finally spoke. “Is it really that cold out there?”
Ticees grinned as he stood. “You’ll see. Even with my precautions, you will feel the bite. In the future, I will get you a proper Imperial uniform and a mask so that you can go outside for short periods of time and at least survive.”
Chelan looked down and thought of telling him that Fremma had supplied her with a uniform, but for some reason she knew it was unwise to inform the Emperor that she had such a garment. She glanced up at him and watched as he drew his long hair along the sides of his face and then pulled the hood of his shroud over. Then he reached for her hair, pulling it alongside her face and drawing her hood over her head.
“Okay,” he announced, “refrigerator time.”
With one fluid motion, he picked her up and pressed her tightly to him, allowing his shroud to cascade over her. He walked to the main doors and then looked down at her wide eyes. “Ready,” he said, shifting her weight slightly and raising her up. “Tuck into me.”
Chelan took a shaky breath as she turned to him, and then tilted her face into his warm, powerful neck. Ticees pressed down on her with his cheek and stepped out through the doors.
Chelan immediately gasped and squeezed forcefully into him, every muscle contracting violently against the assault of the air. She felt as though she had stepped naked into a blizzard; her skin felt as though it was being abraded by steel wool. And that said nothing of the assault on her lungs. She could hardly breathe.
Ticees walked quickly, but Chelan wished he would run. Though the trip was only several minutes, it was almost more than she could endure. But then she heard a door close, and her discomfort eased as welcome warm air infused her abused airways. Ticees sat down with her on his lap. He released his pressure on her head, and she pulled back. She straightened and instantly began to shiver. He pulled back her hood and then his own. She exhaled sharply and then shivered again. “Is it always that cold?” she chattered.
Ticees chuckled. “No, it’s usually colder.”
Chelan threw him a tentative smile and then drew her knees up under her cloak and hugged herself, still shivering.
