by Delia Roan
“I- I understand.” Jenna bowed her head. “What do you need me to do?”
“Excellent. Listen carefully to my words. You must do as I say.”
When the voice on the device stopped barking orders, Jenna crouched down and picked up the white gown.
CHAPTER TWO
KOVOS
His formal suit itched. Lord Kovostad Ar’Cadam sighed and wished he could rip the collar from his neck. Protocol dictated he dress up for the ceremony, and protocol ruled the Ennoi. If his people could put aside their petty bickering to be at his engagement announcement, then by the moon’s sacred glow, Kovos would dress up until he looked like a trussed trikka bird, ready for the dinner table.
He sighed again as his mother’s hands fidgeted with the intricate pleats of his jacket, laying them straight. She slapped his fingers as he scratched the braids in his long black hair.
“Mother,” he said. “Please. Enough.”
Dovena Il’Cadam glared at her son. “It’ll be enough when I say it is enough.” She pulled the already pristine pleats into place. “That is suitable. You have the appearance of one about to commit a grave wrongdoing.”
Kovos cupped his mother’s face, letting his fingers splay around the small ridges protruding from her jaw line. He leaned forward and kissed his mother on the forehead, between the two graceful horns that sprung from her brows.
“Mother, I am not marching to my doom. Lithyon is a good woman, and a powerful leader. It will bring prosperity to both our people once we are wed.”
Dovena brushed a hand across her son’s smooth cheek and forehead. “I wish to see the physical signs of love upon your face and body, Kovos.”
“You ask the impossible, Mother.”
She touched her own horns. “One who has found their Avowed should bear the symbols of their love with pride.”
Kovos nodded. “You and father were lucky,” he said. “But my path is different. I will gladly marry Lithyon to provide stability for the Ennoi clans.”
Dovena clucked and tucked a braid behind Kovos’s ear. “She’s a nice girl, but she’s not your Avowed. I want happiness for all my sons.” She threw a pointed look at Arthon, her middle son, who lounged in a chair, ignoring the wrinkles settling into his clothing.
Arthon waved. “No, no, Mother. It’s not my turn yet. Fuss over the older one first. He’s the one sacrificing true happiness to live on a cocktail of suppressant hormones.”
The hormones would prevent Kovos from reacting physically if he ever did meet his Avowed.
“True happiness would be burning this cursed outfit,” said Kovos, tugging at the fabric. As protocol dictated, the material was cut close to his body, practically binding his legs together. The fastest speed he could manage was a shuffle, and even that set the bells sewn into the hem jingling. His only comfort was he wouldn’t be the only Ennoi mincing around the castle this morning. All Ennoi dignitaries would be wearing similar robes, to show their peaceful intent.
One should not be able to fight in a swaddle, he thought, but one will find a way.
He tapped his fingers against the marble of the table. When his mother placed her hand over his, he frowned. “Mother, you are trembling. Are you due for a dose?”
Dovena waved her hand, and a servant offered the queen a vial of Temanzyme. Opening the container, Dovena slipped the tip under her tongue. She shuddered as the medicine entered her bloodstream.
Without the presence of her late husband, Dovena experienced significant pain; the Temanzyme controlled her symptoms and allowed her to function. Dovena placed a hand over her mouth and gagged. The servants averted their eyes. They had too much respect for Dovena to watch her suffer.
Kovos’s mouth drew into a thin line. It is a necessary evil, he reminded himself. And soon, I shall require it also.
“When will they signal that the Ennoi clan leaders have taken their seats?” he asked, giving his mother time to recover.
Arthon rolled out of the chair in a jingle of bells, and wandered to Kovos. “I peeked earlier. Only time will sort out that mess. Lord Bilkar won’t sit next to anyone from Clan Ennoi Treda because he says they smell like old feet.”
Kovos groaned, but his brother wasn’t done yet.
“Lady Tamlhen is only happy with an aisle seat. Lord Markeu won’t tolerate anyone taller sitting ahead of him. The Ennoi Gleer will kill anyone from Clan Quomor. It’s chaos out there, I can guarantee.”
“They all bear the name Ennoi,” Kovos said, his lip curling, “but they bicker like children over a piece of candy.”
Arthon nodded. “Not to mention half the clan leaders are paranoid because they couldn’t bring their Sykorian bodyguards.”
A growl escaped from Kovos. “Those warmongering slimes aren’t welcome here.”
He couldn’t hide his hatred of the Sykorian mercenaries that many Ennoi hired to fill in their thinning ranks. Military might spoke of Ennoi glory, but generations of clan wars had reduced the Ennoi population. Now they relied on outsider soldiers. It was a practice Kovos wanted to see the end of, before it was too late for his people.
And for her people, he thought.
A face flashed into his mind. A round face, crowned with a mass of pale yellow curls. Soft blue eyes, filled with tears. Begging him for help. He shook away the memory.
Dovena, recovered from her spell of weakness, patted his shoulder. “Nobody would be foolish enough to invite Sykorians here.”
Arthon grinned. “It would make it a livelier event. Sykorians know how to party.”
Kovos turned his head to hide his wince. Someday, very soon, when his younger brother achieved the age of majority, he would have a talk with him about the reality of the Sykorian nature.
The door opened, and the captain of Kovos’s honor guard entered. Unlike Kovos, Yaldiryn Ar’Seris could actually walk, and he bore weapons, but in deference to the situation, they were merely short blades strapped to his hips. He bowed deeply. “The Council is ready, my lord. Lady Lithyon awaits.”
“My thanks for handling the crowd, Yaldir.” Kovos clapped his second-in-command on the shoulder. “Is your father in attendance?”
Yaldir shook his head. “My aunt is representing him this morning. The conflict to the north continues.”
“Ah,” Kovos said. “A pity.”
“Not as pitiful as this charade,” Dovena muttered under her breath. “Yaldir, talk some sense into him?”
Yaldir bowed. “My lady Dovena, I wish I could advise Lord Kovos differently. As his honor guard, I believe this course of action is the most ethical one, for all our people.”
Dovena snorted. “But not for my son.”
Raising an eyebrow, Kovos extended his hand to his mother. “You shall not sway me, Mother. Shall we?”
Dovena sighed. “Not just yet. There is one more matter to which I must attend.” She raised her hands to the nape of her neck, and undid the clasp of her heavy necklace. For a moment, her fingers traced the glowing green jewel on the pendant, then she held it out to her son. “For you. For your new bride.”
“Mother.” A lump grew in Kovos’s throat. “I cannot take your Promise Stone. I have another lumi prepared. That will suffice.”
“Nonsense,” Dovena replied. “This belongs to the mate of the leader of the Ennoi Cadam. I’ve worn it with pride for many years. Now it is another’s turn. Take it.”
Kovos bowed his head, and allowed his mother to place the jewel around his neck. Their hands met on the cool surface of the stone, and Kovos squeezed her fingers.
“Thank you, Mother.”
“I guess we can’t keep my future daughter-in-law waiting.” Dovena placed her hand on his, and his two younger brothers followed as they left the ante room at a crawl.
The spacious room beyond opened onto a balcony with a view of the city of Ados. Banners fluttered on every building, in the Ennoi Cadam colors of blue and orange, honoring Kovos and his family. A few buildings
also flew the colors of Lithyon’s clan, the Ennoi Haron. The pale blue and green contrasted with the vibrancy of Kovos’s, but blended in with the many trees scattered about the city. If the Council watched from within the room, Kovos knew his people watched from below.
I will not disappoint them. I promised them hope, and I will deliver.
As he made his way down to the raised platform, Kovos nodded to various members of the Ennoi Council. He kept a polite smile fixed on his face, while inside, he seethed with anger. These were the people who held him back from helping all the clans of his people. They bickered over trivial matters, and escalated even simple disagreements into wars and skirmishes. It had taken a lot of diplomacy to gather the clan leaders.
He looked to the stage, where the source of most of that diplomacy stood, clad in a shimmering blue and green gown that hung tight over her breasts and hips. Lithyon was lovely, with smooth skin unmarked with horns. Like Kovos, she had yet to meet her Avowed. Her placid exterior hid a sharp mind and ruthless determination. Kovos’s smile for her was genuine. They’d grown up together, and were of similar mind. If anyone wanted peace as badly as he, it was she.
Despite Mother’s objections, I am fortunate, he thought. Many men would give an arm to walk toward such a bride.
Movement caught his eye. A flash of white and gold. He turned his head, but whoever it was had slipped back into the recessed nooks. Kovos frowned. He leaned back, trying to get a better view.
“What are you doing?” his mother hissed through her smile.
Kovos straightened. “Apologies, Mother. I thought I saw…” What had he seen? A flash of gold that reminded him of that time and place, so long ago.
Of scared blue eyes.
Of her.
Kovos shook himself. No, impossible. His mind conjured these memories to remind him of the importance of his union with Lithyon.
Lithyon extended her hand to him as he approached, and Kovos released his mother’s hand to take hers.
“Kovos.” Lithyon’s voice held warmth and affection. “It is good to see you.”
“How long do you think this calm will last?” Kovos muttered under his breath. He tipped his head, indicating the Council members.
Lithyon’s grin was wicked. “Want to make a wager?”
“You never change, Lithyon.”
“Five credits say at least one fight will break out during the ceremony,” she whispered conspiratorially.
“I have more faith in our people,” Kovos replied. “The fighting will begin after the officiant finishes his droning.”
They nodded subtly at each other, acknowledging their bet. Then Lithyon appraised him from top to toe. “Don’t you look handsome today?”
“All Mother’s doing,” he replied. “I follow directions well.”
Lithyon laughed, throwing back her head so the lumi jewels in her hair caught the light and twinkled. “She’s the only one who could command you to wash your hair and wear your finest tunic.”
Arthon leaned in. “She’s saying you stink.”
Lithyon swatted him with her hand. “I’m saying your brother works hard and sometimes he forgets to tend to himself.”
“Ah, but if you married me, Lithyon, you would do the universe a favor.” Arthon clasped his hands together, and widened his eyes. “Mother says only a good wife would tame my wandering ways.”
Kovos’s youngest brother giggled. “Mother says you’ll never be tamed.”
“Cyrlen!” Dovena sounded scandalized.
“If all goes well,” Arthon drawled, “I’ll never even meet a good woman. The bad ones are better.”
Kovos tried to pay attention to their banter, but found his eyes drawn to the edge of the room again. He couldn’t shake the feeling someone watched him, and he knew it wasn’t the council or the general populace gathered below the palace walls. They were watching the ceremony.
The eyes watch me, and me alone.
“Kovos?” Lithyon tilted her head. “Are you well?”
Forcing his attention back to Lithyon, Kovos nodded. “Of course. Let’s get this over with.”
Lithyon’s cheeks reddened slightly, but when she turned to face the audience, her face was calm once more. The officiant stepped forward and cleared his throat.
“A union between two souls is a beautiful and blessed event. The strength of two people working in harmony can rise us above the petty concerns of daily existence.”
As the officiant continued, Kovos kept shooting glances around the room. Yaldir, sensing his lord’s unease, tilted an eyebrow at his friend and placed a hand on the hilt of his weapon. Kovos shook his head gently, but the back of his neck tingled.
“…the importance of such a bond.” The officiant took a deep breath. “Now we shall begin the Bonding ceremony.”
“Wait!”
The word rang out through the silent hall, and echoed across the marble floors, but it was not spoken in Ennoi. Everyone turned to find the source of the voice, and Kovos’s breath hitched in his throat.
A human dressed in white stood at the far end of the room. Kovos took an involuntary step forward. It cannot be. The human’s hair was the same golden-yellow he remembered. His eyes were sharp enough to make out the individual jewels on her gown, and when he looked at her face, he couldn’t breathe.
It was.
It was her.
The same blue eyes. The same pleading expression. The same fear. He read novels in a single meeting of their eyes.
Somehow she had traveled from his memories to this place. He blinked. She wasn’t the child he remembered. Her face was slimmer, and she was taller. Her skinny body had developed curves that made his hands itch. She’d grown beautiful, but the pain in her eyes made his chest tight.
She licked her lips, and Kovos’s breath whooshed out in a rush.
“Are you hooman?” Dovena pronounced the strange word carefully. The syllables were alien to the Ennoi. “We haven’t had humans in Ennoi space before. Who are you? What do you want?” Her voice was curious.
Kovos wanted to remind his mother that humans wouldn’t speak the same language as the Ennoi. The human bent her knees and dipped slightly. Her hands pulled the sides of her gown outward, in a ritualistic bow.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, ma’am.” Her words seem to stumble over each other. “My name is Jenna Harlock. I come from the planet Earth.”
To Kovos’s surprise, the machine embedded in his ear quietly murmured a translation. Galactic treaties forbade contact with non-space faring creatures.
When had the universal translator picked up Earthian?
She paused as the crowd began to mutter. Her hands twisted around themselves and her body shook. Kovos wanted to take her hand and comfort her — to remind her nothing would harm her while he still stood. Yet he remained frozen, lost in his shock at seeing her again.
“What do you want?” Lithyon’s voice sounded harsh. At her voice, her guards stepped forward to surround her, but she shoved them aside. Lithyon could defend herself. She wasn’t a frail princess, but a warrior in her own right.
The human — Jenna — lifted her head, and looked at Lithyon. At him. When their eyes met, she seemed to gather strength from Kovos, and she squared her shoulders. Her chin rose, and her hands stopped their frantic movement.
“I’m here to claim Lord Kovos as my Bond mate. He is my Avowed.”
In the silence after the proclamation, Kovos could hear his own ragged breathing. Then pandemonium erupted. The clan leaders rose to their feet, bellowing questions and waving their arms in agitation. A fist fight broke out, as Lady Tamlhen slugged an emissary from Ennoi Treda for stepping on her gown.
The Cadam guards surrounded the stage, building a wall of bodies between the audience and the royals. In the midst of the bustle, Kovos stood as if rooted to the ground.
I must get to her. She needs me, Kovos thought. She must be terrified.
“Yaldir, de
al with this!”
Kovos kicked his foot forward. His ceremonial coat ripped from hip to ankle, sending jewels scattering and bells jangling, but he could run again. Kovos shoved his way through the guards and into the fray. He stopped to break up a brawl between two council members, and when he looked up again, he caught sight of the hem of Jenna’s gown slipping out of a side door.
CHAPTER THREE
JENNA
Jenna fled down the corridor. She didn’t know where it led, but any place beat staying in that room. Her fear sprung not from the fight, but from the shock of recognition she’d felt when she’d looked into his eyes.
Oh, his eyes, she thought. Like galaxies in darkness. They’d burned into her soul in a way she’d not expected. Somehow, the memory of him in her head didn’t do the reality of him any justice.
She’d gotten her fill of reality. Jenna ducked into a random room and pulled the large door shut behind her. The room beyond contained a bed and a few chairs, but was clearly unoccupied. The walls were bare marble, and the bed stripped of sheets. A small round window let in the pale orange light, but a solid grate of latticework sealed it.
Jenna rattled the bars on the window, but they wouldn’t budge. Everything in this place was built to a larger scale, and it made her feel like a child running through an expensive hotel. A seam in the far wall led her to a room filled with empty shelves. A closet. She pulled the door closed behind her and squeezed into a small gap between two boards.
She tried to calm her breathing, but it exploded from her chest in sobs. She wrapped her arms around her knees and buried her face in the softness of her dress. Tears darkened the material.
It’s all too much.
The voice on the ship had simply dictated to her her task: break the prince’s engagement and gain his trust. Otherwise, Melissa would suffer. If she failed, Melissa would die.
I can’t do this!
A louder sob escaped from Jenna. She kicked off her shoes and tucked her toes into the thick plush of the carpet beneath her. She’d spent so long wrapped up in her memories, and now she had to face the truth: she wasn’t crazy.
