Pet's Pleasure

by Renquist, Zenobia

  She held out another tablet after taking back the first. “A somewhat incomplete report of all present at the pet auction, provided by Lukacht.”

  “Lukacht? My mother’s bodyguard?” He took the tablet and stared at the list of names.

  “The same. He handed this to one of my aides with a message for you.”

  He looked up and got the feeling Vieve had been waiting for him to do so.

  She smiled. “He said he knew you would ask, so he saved you the trouble.”

  Bekion perused the list of names again. The number of nobles and affluent merchants surprised him and yet it didn’t. Who else but those individuals could afford the poachers’ auction? “So Tinette was there.”

  It was a safe assumption to make. Lukacht was Tinette’s shadow at all times. His unwillingness to leave her side even as she slept had caused many rumors to start about an illicit relationship between the two. Bekion knew better. Tinette loved his father too much to betray him for a moment’s pleasure, even after so many years without him.

  Vieve said, “Now, now, Bekion. There is no way to know for sure if Tinette was there. We know Lukacht was there. He could have been under orders to observe the illegal auction and its patrons with the intentions of giving you this list.”

  “Your grasp and use of gray-area logic astounds and amazes me at times, Vieve.”

  “I do my best to prove useful to you in all matters.”

  “Good.” He tapped the first tablet she’d given him. “Make sure Supreme Emperor Udo’s report is finished by the end of dinner. I’ll review and sign it before I retire for the night.”

  She inclined her head to him. “Do you require anything else of me before I take my leave?”

  “Have you discovered a way to clone me and thus lighten my workload?”

  “I don’t remember that listed amongst my duties. Should I start that research?”

  Her serious tone mixed with the mischievous look in her eyes made Bekion laugh despite his fatigue. “Absolutely not. I fear you would succeed. I shall see you at dinner.” He relieved Vieve of the last four tablets she had for him before she left the room.

  With a single gesture from Bekion, the remaining guards exited with her. Bekion looked at the four tablets with disinterest—another border dispute, a revised trade proposal from one of the far-off colonies for the acquisition of prize soil, a bride resume submitted by the bride’s overachieving aunt and an invitation for the next imperial pet show with accompanying rules of entry.

  The first two were mundane and easily dealt with. The third constituted Vieve’s idea of a hint. Bekion tossed the bride resume onto a growing pile of tablets he planned to deal with when the far reaches of the deepest, darkest black hole produced light. He planned to find a bride when he was ready. No amount of Vieve’s hinting would rush him toward a decision.

  He stared at the last tablet. News traveled fast, it seemed. He’d already told Starling he had no intention of entering her into a human show. She probably wouldn’t want to bear witness to one either.

  Despite all that, the tablet proved far more interesting than the work waiting for him. He sat on a nearby chair and read over the events and how the judges chose a winner for each category.

  He mumbled to himself, “Perhaps I should rethink my earlier decision and enter her after all.”

  Starling would surely win top prize and take best in show for the female division of the endowments category.

  Then again, the thought of judges pawing at Starling to determine if her breasts truly were the largest of those presented annoyed him. He doubted she would be very appreciative either. He chuckled as he put the pet show tablet off to the side and attended to more important matters.

  Chapter Five

  Someone was knocking.

  Starling rolled onto her side, gripping her blanket more securely around her shoulders. “Go away,” she mumbled.

  The room grew quiet and the warmth of her cocoon soothed her into a dozing state. She sighed and decided to sleep a little longer. Persistent knocking roused her once more. She refused to get out of bed and see who was bothering her. Instead, she said in a louder voice, **Leave me alone.**

  “While I don’t understand my pet’s words, I can safely guess from her tone that our sentiments are the same. I don’t have any obligations for another hour, so go away.”

  The sound of Bekion’s deep voice jarred Starling into full wakefulness. She sat up quickly and looked around herself.

  **Please, God, no.** Her words, spoken in English, were little more than a soft breath.

  Her eyes told her the same thing the rest of her senses already had. The day before had happened. Some part of her had held on to a hope of the whole thing being a very vivid dream. But dreams didn’t persist into the waking world.

  A man on the other side of the bedroom door said, “I’m sorry to disturb you, King Bekion, but a communication is inbound for you from the king of Jijyan.”

  Starling looked at Bekion, who sat on his bed reading a tablet in the low room light.

  Bekion grumbled under his breath, “Why does he want to bother me now? We’ll speak to each other at the monarchs’ meeting tomorrow.” He sighed before calling, “Did he give a reason for contacting me at such an hour?”

  “No, Sire. Shall I ask?”

  Bekion didn’t answer.

  There was a scuffling noise on the other side of the door. A moment later, the servant returned. “Sire, Jijyan’s king wishes to report a sighting of the poachers.”

  Starling stiffened.

  Bekion tossed aside the tablet. “Put him through.”

  A male voice from a hidden speaker said, “I thought that would get your attention, Panagiota. We don’t have visual.”

  Bekion asked, “What news have you?”

  “Fine. Be shy then. I have good and bad news, I’m afraid. Like you, my efforts to capture the poachers met with failure. Many of my nobles, however, participated in the auction and purchased several of the humans. Said nobles were handed over to the imperial police and their humans were confiscated.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “Awaiting trial at Supreme Emperor Udo’s convenience.”

  Bekion sighed loudly. “The humans, Jijyan, not the nobles.”

  “Supreme Emperor Udo ordered them delivered to his palace. I don’t know what he has planned for them.”

  “Thank you, Jijyan. Your information is appreciated.”

  “Appreciate it all you want, Panagiota. It’s not free. I lost many nobles in that raid. Their holdings reverted to the empire, not to my crown.”

  A knowing look entered Bekion’s eyes. “I suppose you’d like compensation equal to that which was lost.”

  “The rumors about you are true. You aren’t stupid.”

  “Name your price.”

  “Five ingets of prize soil.”

  “No. Not only is that far more than the information is worth but such a trade is against imperial law as well as Panagiota’s laws. The most you can hope for is two.”

  “Done.”

  “I said hope for, Jijyan. I’m giving you one.”

  Silence.

  Starling thought the transmission had ended until Jijyan started laughing.

  “You’re too easy, Panagiota. I would have settled for one handful and yet you give me so much without even negotiating.”

  Bekion waved away the comment even though Jijyan couldn’t see him. “Nonsense. I’m happy to give you the prize soil. It will be on the next transport.”

  “Good morning.”

  “And to you.” There was a faint click. Bekion checked his arm cuff. His lips curved into a sinister smile and he chuckled.

  Starling couldn’t stop herself from asking, “What’s so funny?”

  He raised his gaze to her. “Jijyan is an idiot. He believes the rumors about the prize soil.”

  “You said it could enrich any terrain.”

  “It can. However, the soil doesn’t do this fea
t on its own. If it did, Panagiota would be overrun by vegetation within seconds. The soil must be treated with a special radiation prior to its use.”

  His smile then made sense. For her own benefit, she said, “You don’t plan to irradiate it before sending it.”

  “Alas, I cannot. The soil must be activated no more than ten minutes before its use or else it returns to its dormant state.” He retrieved his tablet from where it had landed and continued reading. “The devices to irradiate the soil are strictly monitored commodities and only available on Panagiota. If Jijyan wants his prize soil to perform, he’ll have to pay for it.”

  “I was right. You are petty.”

  He lowered his tablet once more and regarded her. His calculating look faded and his brow furrowed a little. “Are you rested?”

  His change of topic caught her off guard. She had to think about her answer for a moment. “Yes.”

  “Good. I was worried for a time when you didn’t wake.”

  “Stress.” At least she hoped it was stress. She’d hate to think the drug the poachers had used was still in her system.

  “I surmised as much. Are you hungry?”

  “A little.”

  “Good. The servants should be bringing us breakfast in a short while.”

  “Breakfast? It’s morning?”

  “Yes. I was quite surprised how long you slept.”

  She nodded. Something tickled her ear and she swatted at it. Her hand came into contact with…hair? She clutched the top of her head and her fingers sank into the giant, puffy afro planted there.

  “What’s wrong? Are you ill?” Bekion rushed to her side. “Does your head hurt?”

  She shook her head and the nimbus of hair bounced and wobbled. “My hair is back.”

  “Yes. Furielle reprogrammed the nanites yesterday.”

  She curled her fingers into the thick mass. “I didn’t think it would grow back so fast…or this big.”

  Bekion relaxed and touched her hair, sinking his fingers into it much the same way she did. “An interesting texture. Is it supposed to do this?”

  “When not being tamed with heat and chemicals, yes. I guess I’ll have to find a way to straighten it.”

  “Why? This is how your hair is supposed to look.”

  “No. This is how my hair grows. It’s supposed to look the way I want it to look. And I want it to be straight, or at least straighter than this. I feel like I have a pom-pom on my head.”

  She half expected him to ask her what a pom-pom was but he didn’t. He continued squeezing her hair with an odd expression of wonder mixed with a small amount of glee.

  He said, “I like it like this. It’s soothing.”

  “Yeah, well, I think it’s annoying.”

  “Your opinion is noted. However, it’s my opinion that matters. You’ll keep it like this.”

  “No, I won’t.” She jerked out from under his touch and glared at him.

  “Yes, you will. There is no point arguing the matter. I will not supply the things you would need in order to alter your hair. Denying my wish is merely being contrary and childish.”

  He reached out to touch her hair again but she smacked his hand away. “You’re the one being childish. I don’t want my hair like this. It wasn’t like this before it fell out.”

  “This is its natural state.”

  “Being naked is your natural state but I don’t see you stripping down and walking around in the buff.”

  He grinned at her and she knew she’d said the wrong thing.

  Lifting her chin with his finger, Bekion moved his face close to hers and said, “It is your natural state as well, pretty pet. Shall I prove how truly childish I am and take away your clothing?” He stroked her cheek. “I had planned to have the palace seamstresses make you a wardrobe but I could be convinced your current attire is a waste of money…if you insist on continuing with this argument.”

  She met his gaze but didn’t say anything.

  “Well?”

  He’d won and he knew it but the jerk would make her say it. She refused to give him the satisfaction. He probably wouldn’t let her get away without showing some form of subservience. She’d already seen many examples of his pettiness.

  She sighed and lowered her gaze from his. That was as good as it would get. He’d better take it. He would have a fight on his hands if he expected her to go around naked.

  “Good girl.” He patted her head.

  **Asshole,** she bit out in English.

  “What was that?”

  She forced a sweet smile as she looked up at him.

  “You continue to refuse to translate your words for me.”

  Damn straight, she thought.

  Another knock at the door cut off whatever Bekion would have said next.

  “Yes?” Bekion called.

  A woman on the other side of the door said, “Sire, your breakfast is ready and waiting.”

  “Good.” He faced Starling. “Furielle will attend to your bath after we eat and then the seamstresses will start your wardrobe.”

  As much as she wanted to tell him where to take his food and shove it, her stomach chose that moment to agree with him, gurgling loudly. She clutched her middle, surprised at the loudness.

  Bekion laughed. He scooped her against his chest and carried her to the outer chamber. There was a muffled beep when he opened the door but she couldn’t figure out where it had originated.

  The servants stopped and bowed to him. In unison they said, “Good morning, Your Majesty.”

  “And to you.” Bekion hadn’t looked at anyone in particular when he’d uttered the words. It sounded like an automatic response.

  The servants said in unison, “Good morning, Lady Starling.”

  She startled and looked at all the servants but they remained bowed. She whispered, “Morning.” Only after that utterance did the servants move. That confused her. She looked at Bekion for an explanation.

  “I granted you a title yesterday.”

  That wasn’t her question but it had been on her list. “What title? Why? And can you do that?”

  He placed her on the chair she’d occupied the day before. “I am king. I can grant a title to whomever I please. It is only a name. The properties that belonged to your title have long since been offered to another.”

  “They didn’t want the title?”

  “Tinette didn’t think they deserved it. I’m inclined to agree with her.” He gestured to her. “So, I’ve given it to you. You are a baroness now.”

  “Don’t people get locked away in insane asylums for stuff like that?”

  “It’s not uncommon for wealthy individuals to leave everything to their pets. This is no different.”

  Bekion seemed to be adapting to owning a pet quite well and quickly. He was already doing a lot of the weird things pet owners did. However, if he tried to put her in a cute sweater or costume, she would kill him. She planned to leave that sentiment unspoken in case he hadn’t already thought of it. She didn’t want to give him ideas.

  Two servants stepped forward and uncovered the platters of food atop the table. A third servant placed a bowl of steaming soup before Bekion and then another before Starling.

  Whatever it was, it smelled delicious. She dabbed a little on her finger and tasted it to make sure the smell and taste coincided. It was a little sweet for such an early meal but it tasted great. She ignored the other foods and focused on her soup. The spoon wasn’t fast enough so she picked up the bowl and sipped from it.

  Bekion chuckled.

  She looked at him and noticed several people watching her. Had she done something wrong? “What?”

  Bekion said, “Nothing, nothing.”

  “Was I supposed to wait for you to eat first or something?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Then what are you laughing about?”

  He shook his head and turned his attention to his own soup.

  She watched him for a few breaths. What did he find so f
unny? Had she done something weird? Was she using the wrong utensil?

  None of the other flatware was spoon-shaped and the soup was more liquid than solid. The nagging hunger in her stomach prompted her to forgo the speculation until after she’d eaten. She returned the bowl to her lips.

  Bekion covered an obvious laugh with a fake cough.

  Starling lifted her lips from the rim of the bowl. “Why are you laughing at me?”

  “I take it you like the soup.”

  “If you mean this,” she hefted the bowl she had halfway to her lips, “I’m just hungry. Unless you forgot, I missed a meal.”

  “The way you are eating isn’t what amuses me, pretty pet. It is what you are eating.”

  She lowered the bowl and gave the contents a suspicious look. “What does that mean?”

  “You displayed such an adamant dislike for pelbuah.”

  “Pelbuah?” she asked but she had a sinking suspicion she knew the answer. There had only been one thing she hadn’t liked from the meal presented the day before.

  “The fruit you thought disgusting enough to spit out. It is called pelbuah.”

  And that confirmed her fears. She dropped the bowl quickly, which made the contents slosh over the sides. A little bit touched her fingers. She grabbed a napkin and rubbed it away.

  Bekion laughed. His merriment didn’t help the sudden queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  She whispered, “It doesn’t taste the same.”

  “The taste of the fruit becomes sweeter when it is aged past ripeness then cooked.”

  “You said you wouldn’t feed that to me again.”

  “You started eating before I could warn you.” He winked at her. “And with such enthusiasm.”

  “I wish you hadn’t told me then.” She held a hand to her lips. Queasiness had turned into nausea. She could feel the liquid crawling up her throat.

  “Do you plan to expel it now that you know what it is?”

  “My brain and my stomach are still debating that.” She swallowed a few times but that didn’t calm the feeling.

  “Let me know when a conclusion is reached.”

  A hiccupping burp passed her lips and she clutched her mouth. Bekion continued chuckling under his breath. She had half a mind to barf all over his breakfast. See how funny he found that.