by Leslie Chase
He leaned forward, hands clasped on his walking stick, and looked me in the eyes. "You see, young lady, the princess is missing. She's chosen this, the eve of a diplomatic coup, to run away with a lover — and the peace of the Empire demands that I find a replacement until she can be recovered."
For a moment I didn't get it. What on Earth — or off it — could I do to help with that? But I had a sinking feeling that I knew. Looking at one of the portraits hanging on the wall, I realized why the woman in them looked familiar. This one was more candid than the rest, a simple smiling face, and more than anything else it reminded me of looking into a mirror.
"You can't be serious," I gasped.
"I wish I were not," Rofain said with a shrug and a small smile, looking pleased that I'd figured it out. "Keshiir took too long to find you, and there is no time to properly prepare you for the role you must play. But physically, at least, you are the very double of my beloved princess. You will be able to take her place for the short while required."
"There's no way I can fool anyone," I objected, heart pounding again. The chair seemed reluctant to let me go as I sat forward. "I don't know the first thing about her!"
"You'll get an overview," Rofain said, waving away the objection. "And you'll not be interacting with anyone who knows Her Highness. A couple of maids who will be too overawed in the presence of royalty to think about things, that's all."
It didn't sound like a good plan, but I didn't want to argue too hard. What would Rofain do with me if I didn't have a use? He certainly hadn't treated me as though he had respect for me as a person so far. If I wanted him to send me home, I figured I'd better play along.
"Okay, fine. So, what am I supposed to do?"
His smile was a little warmer now that I was cooperating, and that was a bit of a relief.
"You're going to go with the princess's intended," he told me. "Travel to his homeworld for a diplomatic wedding—"
"Now hold on a moment," I said, jumping to my feet, eyes wide. "I'm not marrying some guy I've never met."
"You won't have to," Rofain said testily, his good humor vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. "I'm sure I'll have her back in hand before the wedding ceremony itself, and we'll swap you out. This is all pre-wedding ritual and ceremony, a show for the primitives we're trying to make peace with. Just travel with the barbarian, smile and wave and try not to say much, and it'll all be over quickly."
Barbarian? Primitives? Rofain really wasn't selling me on this, but did I have a choice in the matter? It didn't look like it. There were some limits I'd have to insist on though. "You're not expecting me to sleep with this barbarian, are you?"
"Silent Empress, no!" Rofain seemed genuinely outraged by the idea. "You'll be in the role of an Imperial Princess. No one would expect her to sleep with her betrothed before her wedding night."
His voice was carefully cultivated and controlled, but a hint of disgust slipped through anyway. The idea that his beloved princess would sleep with her husband at all seemed too much for him, and that made me wonder what kind of monster she was expected to marry. Perhaps I ought to feel sorry for her.
It wasn't easy, seeing all the luxuries that surrounded her. And the paintings of herself that she chose to decorate her private ship with. That was a level of self-absorption I could hardly comprehend. I looked across at one of the paintings, her face surrounded by flowers.
Seeing my smile in an alien portrait was unsettling and I couldn't stop wondering what she was like. I wasn't likely to ever meet her, though — at best a quick hello when we swapped places, before she married whatever alien monster she was promised to.
I don't know what Rofain saw in my expression, but he stood and stepped next to me. "This is necessary, child. I know it sounds unpleasant, but the war that this wedding will avert would cost many millions of lives. Possibly whole planets will be spared. The Acherans are brutal beasts and you can help keep them from attacking our worlds."
He really wasn't making it sound appealing, but I also didn't seem to have much of a choice. Before I could respond, the door opened again, letting in a tall slender woman with a hard look on her face. Her expression tightened at the sight of me and I flinched from the fury I saw in her ice-blue eyes.
"So this is the best we can do?" she said, addressing Rofain without bothering to introduce herself. "Our beloved princess, reduced to... some mud-dweller on her first time into space?"
"Calm, please," Rofain answered patiently. "She's close enough, isn't she? I've checked her physicals and she'll pass."
"I suppose she will pass a medical test," the newcomer snapped. "Finding someone who would do that is why we're paying Keshiir a small fortune. But just look at her, Rofain. She's no princess, and no one will ever believe that she is."
She looked me up and down with that same appraising expression that Rofain had first used. Like I was a piece of meat in the marketplace, which made sense. They had bought me, after all.
It wasn't a happy thought, and it reminded me that even if Rofain could make a good argument, he was still a slaver. These were not nice people, and I needed to remember that if I was going to get home in one piece.
Stepping closer, she reached up to grab my chin and looked me in the eyes. Without thinking, I slapped her hand away, and the outrage in her expression was priceless. It was as though the idea that I'd resist her hadn't entered her mind.
With a scowl she touched a control on her bracer and I felt the cuffs tighten on my limbs again, lifting me off the floor and holding me helpless the air. She reached up for my face again, a cold hard look in her eyes as she gripped my cheeks.
"Lady, get your hand off me before I bite it."
To my surprise, the bitch actually smiled at that. It was an ice-cold smile, and it did nothing to make her look friendlier, but she let go. Ice Bitch, I christened her in my mind. If she wasn't going to give me a name, she had no right to complain about the one I gave her.
"I begin to think she might pass," she said, ignoring my glare. "She has the fire, at least."
I felt my jaw tighten as anger flooded me. But she'd already turned away.
Rofain smiled back at her, bowing low enough that I thought it had to be mocking. Ice Bitch seemed to think so too, from the glare she turned on him.
"Madam, she is physically perfect," he said again. "And while her lack of training is... regrettable, she is the closest match to Her Highness that we will be able to find in the time available."
"I suppose she will have to do," Ice Bitch admitted reluctantly. "The Acheran has arrived, and we can hardly put him off meeting his bride for more than a few hours. We will have to work quickly."
Rofain nodded, looking almost sick at that news. "So soon? That's hardly any time at all."
"Princess Immorata has had a lifetime to learn her role. Years would not be enough to teach this how to take her place. Just... do your best, Rofain."
She turned and walked away without another word to me and I fumed. It wasn't that she was wrong, but the way she spoke about me did nothing to make me like her. Though at least the anger was better than fear.
"Forgive the Lady Proctor," Rofain said to me, smiling his fake smile again. It looked as though he expected me to say something, and when I just turned my glare at him he flushed and looked away.
"Please understand that her first duty is to the safety and dignity of the royal family," he explained, hands fluttering in complicated gestures that meant nothing to me. "She is, um, ill at ease with the plan. It's nothing personal."
"It sure sounded personal," I said, abandoning silence. "She was looking at me as though I'm a piece of meat."
"Yes, well," the man started, and then lapsed into silence for a moment. With a sigh he sat forward in his chair, looking me in the eye and starting over. "Lady Proctor Heriam has been overseeing the education and well-being of Princess Immorata since Her Highness was five. The idea of a commoner taking her place, even for a short while, doesn't sit well with her. M
ore than that, the idea that you could fake being the princess — and thus, fake the education Lady Heriam has given her — is a direct affront."
I sighed, a little of the anger draining out of me. That made some sense, I admitted to myself, though it didn't excuse the Ice Bitch's — Heriam's — rudeness. As the anger ebbed, fear flooded back to take its place and I felt myself on the edge of tears again.
Stop that. Stop it at once. Crying won't help. I didn't know what would happen to me if I broke down, but I didn't want to find out. At the moment, I was useful to these people, and it was better if I stayed that way.
The walk back out to the landing pad was very different from my entrance to the Shadow of a Forgotten Love. Then, I'd floated in chains, but now I strode through it as though I owned the place. Which was the whole point of the charade.
Guards fell in around me, large lizard-like men carrying huge guns and with swords slung across their back. It took an effort to ignore them, but Rofain had made it clear that a princess should not notice the help. I had to act as though being surrounded by heavily armed monsters was the most natural thing in the world.
At least I could distract myself easily, just by thinking about the outfit I was wearing. I wasn't sure what the proper name for a dress like this was, but it was incredible. And impossible. Light as air, it was implausibly comfortable and magnificently showy. The deep blue fabric floated in place, hanging in the air perfectly poised. It had taken two maids nearly an hour to get it set up right, an hour during which I had to listen to Rofain lecture me on a tangled mess of history and protocol. I struggled to remember any of it.
My hair was the least convincing part of the disguise, apparently because Immorata had never met a hair care product she didn't like. The portraits of her showed her with a bewildering array of hairstyles, none of them anything like what I'd wear. More importantly, all of them needed hair that went all the way down her back where mine was a much more manageable shoulder-length cut.
Right now, it was covered in a headdress of diamonds and bright feathers, but I worried that the Acheran prince wouldn't be fooled once that came off. Perhaps he wouldn't need to see that? I was still unclear just how long I was stuck in this plan.
Ahead, an alien ship waited. Unlike the Shadow, it looked more functional than decorative. Turrets jutted out from its body and the scars of old battle damage marked one wing. A functional war machine. It made me shiver to look at it: whoever flew this was no stranger to violence, and that was who the princess was due to marry.
Which meant it was who I would be stuck with for however long it took Rofain to find her. Great.
Approaching the ship from the far side, I saw Proctor Heriam leading another party of the lizard warriors. Her face was set and hard, even colder than before, but I didn't have time to pay attention to her. Next to her, escorted by the warriors, was the man I was here to meet.
I swallowed, mouth suddenly dry as I looked up at him. And kept looking up. The alien man was at least nine-foot-tall, a giant even compared to the soldiers accompanying him, and he was built like a wall of muscle. His skin was a deep, dark blue and his bare torso showed off a lot of it. Scales like armor wrapped around his body and long sharp spines emerged from his arms. No wonder he didn't wear anything on his torso — those spines looked like they'd tear it to shreds if he tried!
The scales did nothing to hide his toned, perfectly-muscled body though. His abs looked like they were chiseled by a master craftsman looking to illustrate the perfect man and it took an effort to tear my eyes away.
My eyes kept traveling up until I stared at his inhuman face. Large, dark eyes gazed back at me and if there was any emotion there, I couldn't make it out. His full, firm lips parted in a smile, revealing razor sharp teeth, and it took an effort not to turn and flee. This man, this monster, was terrifying. Attractive, yes, but terrifying.
This was who the princess was supposed to marry? No wonder she ran away!
"Your Imperial Highness," Heriam said, her voice cutting through my rush of fear. There was a warning look in her eyes as she gestured at the monster. "Allow me the honor of presenting Prince Xendar of Achera, first son of King Kaldor, hero of the battle of Yalbor Minor."
The alien growled something under his breath and bowed low, his tail sweeping up to balance him. Oh my god, he has a tail. I couldn't help staring. It was long flexible, and more sharp spikes emerged from it. Prince Xendar seemed to be made of weapons. No wonder the Empire wanted to avoid war with his people.
And now I was stuck with him. Fantastic.
The silence stretched and, belatedly, I realized that everyone was waiting for me to speak. Rofain had even prepared something for me to say, but the sight of the blue-skinned warrior prince had driven it out of my mind. I had to say something, though.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you," I tried. Not imperious enough. I could feel Heriam's burning disapproval without needing to look at her. Well, tough. I didn't know how to speak like a princess. The closest I'd ever been to meeting one was watching TV and I was pretty sure those shows didn't help.
"The pleasure is mine, Your Highness," Xendar rumbled back in a voice so low that it seemed to shake my bones. He straightened slowly, extending a hand towards me, and I felt his gaze as he did so. Unlike the others who'd examined me today, his gaze was definitely sexual, lingering as he swept it up from my feet to my face. I felt my cheeks heat and suppressed a little shiver as my body responded.
Don't, I told myself. Come on, he's not even human. My body wasn't listening to that, though. Not while that body was poised in front of me. Damn it.
For a moment we were both still, staring at each other. I wanted to make a sharp comment about the way he looked at me. And while I didn't know what he wanted, I could guess from the hunger in his gaze. The moment stretched out to eternity, and somewhere I heard Rofain clear his throat.
Oh yes. I had to act.
Extending my hand delicately, I let him take it and raise it to his lips. The kiss was firm, powerful, and sent a spark running through me to my core. I could feel the blush spreading across my cheeks and cursed silently.
"If we're going to do this, let's get on with it," I said, then shut my mouth with a snap. That wasn't imperious, it was just rude, but it was out before I had a chance to stop it. Xendar's eyes narrowed, but he nodded. Releasing my hand and taking a step back to nod to the servants following with my luggage.
There was a lot of that. I hadn't had a chance to look behind me on the way out to meet Xendar, but now that I saw them file past I was impressed. Or maybe appalled would be a better word. Apparently, the princess was traveling with about three times as much stuff as I owned, and Rofain had mentioned that this was just supposed to be enough to keep her in clothes until the wedding.
Being jealous of the woman I had to pretend to be was silly, but I couldn't help myself.
The servants knew their jobs, though, and despite the amount of luggage, it didn't take long to load. Thank goodness! If I was going to get through this it had to happen quickly, before I lost my nerve and ran off to hide somewhere on this over decorated wedding cake of a spaceship.
I turned to face Rofain and Heriam, who stood attentively watching. Behind them floated a small silver orb which held a camera to record this historic event for the Imperial media. Or so Rofain had told me, anyway — it just looked like a silver golf ball to me.
"Thank you for your kind service," I said to them, trying to stick to the script. I could tell from the twitch at Heriam's eye that I'd done something wrong again, but there was no time to try and recover so I bulled ahead. "I shall look forward to seeing you again when I visit, Lady Proctor and Lord Rofain. And both of you shall always be welcome in my home."
So far so good. Those were the right words, anyway, even if I wasn't saying them just like the princess would have. Now for the hard part. Looking up at the camera ball, I smiled my best smile and waved. And froze.
Maybe Rofain shouldn't have told
me that billions of people would watch this recording. Perhaps if I'd been able to ignore that, I'd have been able to remember my lines. But just the thought that more people would watch this moment than lived on Earth made my mind go blank and my chest tighten.
I had to give the speech. Rofain had stressed how important this moment was, and he was looking at me with anger in his eyes. Tough. No matter how frightening he could be, he couldn't compete with an audience of billions. As a child I'd had stage fright in front of the few dozen parents who'd turned up to the school play, and there I'd only been an extra in the back.
Now I was the star of a show I didn't understand, and I'd had half an hour to learn my lines. And the audience wasn't going to be politely applauding no matter what. And I couldn't hide behind the sure knowledge that however badly I did, Carol next to me would do worse.
Never had I missed Carol more.
I have no idea how long I stared at the camera ball. It felt like a hundred years or so, but it probably wasn't more than a handful of seconds.
Then powerful hands lifted me as Xendar took over. Still frozen, I was torn between shocked outrage and relief as he simply picked me up and carried me towards the ship. To my surprise I didn't shriek, and I even managed to wave goodbye. Heriam's face was a picture of shock at how her 'princess' was being manhandled, but I thought I could see a hint of relief under Rofain's concerned expression as I was whisked away.
Better this than trying to explain why she's not speaking, I imagined him thinking.
Then the ship's door slid shut and I was locked aboard the Acheran vessel. For the second time in a day, I was being carried off by an alien against my will.
4
Xendar
Sacred fires of Achera, the princess was beautiful. Seeing her statues and portraits was one thing, and they'd certainly shown her as an attractive female. But in person it was different. As well as her beauty, there was something else about her. Something that made me lose my mind.
