by Alyx X
I glanced away, unwilling to see any more of the truth in his eyes. “I’ve found out when the date of the next Terran auction is.” I didn’t know whether I meant to tell him or confess to him. Possibly both.
He shook his head and sighed. “But why, Izon? She does her job well, she takes all the shit Jari dishes out to her, and never snaps or complains. She’s good with all the children.” Then his tone changed. “Or are you just getting snippy because she isn’t submissive enough to you?”
I flinched at the accusation, but I didn’t deny it. I wasn’t sure I could without telling a lie.
He sounded disappointed when he spoke again. “For what it’s worth, and if you listen to my opinion anymore, I don’t think you should replace her just because she doesn’t kiss your ass.”
Without responding, I walked away. I had shit to do that didn’t involve listening to the whining of my kids’ bodyguard. Once in my office, I closed the door behind me. I needed space to think and work.
Dusk fell as I worked, ploughing through request after request, and the sky turned dark purple as the twin moons rose. The children would be in bed now, with Tessa relieved of her duty for a while. I listened but heard nothing. She was probably in her room.
I stood from my desk and wandered to the doors leading to a stone balcony. Steps led in to the beautiful gardens surrounding the house, gardens full of sweet-smelling plants and vegetation that fell away into the ocean, where rippling waves lapped against the last of the lawn.
I unfastened the catch on the door and stepped outside, my chest expanding as I inhaled the perfume of the night blooming flowers Lyra had loved so much. She’d spent a lot of time out here, planting and tending. It was her thinking space, she’d said.
The garden was a different place at night. During the day I could often hear Vike’s voice as he played and ran across the grass. Here in the quiet, the leaves fluttered in the breeze and water rippled and splashed somewhere in the calm night.
A figure moved near the water’s edge, and my chest tightened. Lyra. For a moment, I thought I believed ghosts existed. There she was. Looking as alive and real as she’d ever been.
Then my trapped breath released as I realized the figure was far smaller than Lyra. This was not my Queen. My heart ached, every beat pounding a crushing sadness through my body. I looked again at Tessa. It would be so easy to pretend, to give in to the illusion. But I knew better than to do that.
I stared at her for a while longer, imagining all the things that could never be before I sighed, releasing the fantasy. With one last look, I stepped quietly back into my office and closed the door.
As I lay in my bed later waiting for sleep, hazel eyes filled my mind like a kaleidoscope of colors. They filled my dreams, too.
6
Tessa
I glanced at Gabby and she nodded. I think it was supposed to be reassurance, but it looked a whole lot more like a command with the way her mouth tightened a little at the same time.
She’d been trying to teach me how to behave around Izon so I didn’t draw so much of his irritation and glowering bad temper. Every time I thought about how much easier my life would be without him in it I had an immediate memory of Mom lying in a hospital bed with only me to save her. And that made me willing to try anything—even let Gabby coach me in the best ways to behave like the indentured servant I now was.
I checked on the children. They all had something to eat. The older two spooned some sort of unfamiliar fruit from their bowls, and Luka chomped on some toasted bread, dripping in a nasty-smelling spread. His little scales glinted as he turned his head in the sunlight shining through the window, and tiny fangs showed when he opened his mouth to giggle in the way babies often do.
I smiled. Babies were the same no matter where you were in the universe. I reached forward and tickled his toes, but froze as the back of my neck prickled. I turned slowly and met Izon’s eyes where he stood in the doorway to the dining room.
I glanced at Gabby.
“Go! Go!” she mouthed, and I hurriedly swept into an awkward curtsey, uncomfortable and graceless in pants.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” I murmured and kept my gaze low to the floor.
Gabby had told me I was getting a lot wrong, like meeting his gaze which was apparently considered a challenge. The way I had protected the baby from him the other day was also a huge mistake. I was getting a lot of stuff wrong. Or not quite right, anyway. I was essentially being myself.
“Are the children behaving?” He spoke his question like a command, and my cheeks prickled with irritation as I fought not to lift my gaze.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Are you keeping to the schedule?”
“Yes, Your Grace.” As much as possible with the push back I was getting from Jari anyway, but that didn’t seem worth mentioning when I had a job to keep. And I’d dealt with snotty kids before—even though most of them weren’t actual princesses with a tragic childhood.
“Really keeping to the schedule?” His words took on an even flintier edge, and I found I couldn’t keep looking at the floor.
I lifted my gaze and met his blazing red eyes, a fire lit deep within them.
“Yes, Your Grace.” I spoke through my grimace, my lips tight as I fought to keep my voice neutral and respectful.
His eyes flickered hotter in response, and he mirrored my grimace. “Good,” he muttered. “That’s good.”
But it felt like good was the furthest thing from what he actually meant, and I looked at Gabby for guidance. She lifted her shoulders in the smallest of shrugs and turned away. Then she hurried from the room, and I glanced at Dyan, who flashed me his trademark smirk in response.
“Everything seems to be going as well as can be expected, Your Grace,” he said, and confusion rushed through me at his emphasis on The King’s title.
When in doubt, the best course of action seemed to be to ignore them and just do my job. I was reading as much as I could about water dragons, and Gabby was filling me in on the rest, but I still didn’t understand everything about their culture or mannerisms.
“Jari.”
She looked up, her eyes sharp, but I kept my voice soft.
Maybe too soft. I didn’t want to seem afraid of her. I tried again, a little firmer this time. “It’s time to start getting ready for school, now. Vike is already dressing in his room.”
“I’m not finished with my breakfast.” She spooned some more of the fruit’s purple flesh into her mouth and chewed noisily. Her gaze never left my face, her eyes daring me to challenge her.
“I’m sorry.” I shrugged my shoulders, clearly not sorry. “But you should have gotten out of bed when I asked you to.”
She shrugged back. “I was still tired, and now I’m still eating.”
I unclenched my teeth. I didn’t usually have to fight Jari’s attitude with an audience, and it seemed so much worse now that my audience included her father. I didn’t look at him. I didn’t want to see his judgement. I pressed on, “Okay well, can I do anything to help speed up the process? Your clothes are ready for you to wear, but can I put anything in your bag for you?”
“Don’t touch my stuff.”
I glanced at the time and tried to calm the irritation beginning to work through me. Jari challenged me every day with her spoiled and entitled behavior, but now I was watching Izon’s schedule, the one I had to follow, walk right out the door.
“Come on, Jari. Let’s work together on this.” I took a tiny step toward her.
She snarled, a small roar rumbling through her chest. When she opened her mouth, her fangs were on full display.
I stumbled back, my back hitting the wall behind me as her face became distorted with anger. After Izon had shown me his fangs in the library, Gabby told me it was an angry expression and usually a threat. I flinched as I looked at Jari, not daring to take my eyes off her.
I didn’t dare speak—not to tell her off, not to calm her down. She was only a little girl, but
I had no idea how strong she was. I didn’t know much about them at all, and especially not when it came to our physical differences. Or how easily any of them could break me into pieces if they wanted to.
Dyan pushed himself from the wall and came to stand in front of me, his movement casual but very much protective as he stood partially obscuring me from Jari’s view. “Stand down, Jari,” he murmured. “You’re scaring Tess.”
I drew a controlled breath, trying to calm the fast pace of my heart. Some nanny I was. If I couldn’t prevent my charges from wanting to rip the skin from my bones, what good was I? I stood on my tiptoes and peered over Dyan’s shoulder, taking in Jari’s narrowed red eyes and the fangs she still hadn’t retracted.
“Jari Hurric, Princess of Hydronia, you retract those fangs right now.” Izon’s voice boomed around the room, and I snapped my head around to look at him. He seemed to fill most of the space with his broad, intimidating frame. “This isn’t the way you treat the staff, and I don’t want to see such displays of aggression from you again.”
I returned my attention to Jari and watched as her eyes rounded and the fangs in her mouth receded, disappearing slowly into her gums until only her normal teeth remained. I blew out a small sigh of relief, and Dyan glanced at me over his shoulder before stepping aside
“What were you thinking, Jari?” Izon softened his tone, but his words remained firm.
“I don’t want her here.” Jari’s voice was shrill, and she pointed a trembling finger at me. I knew her better than this, even in the short amount of time I had been here. The little princess was hamming it up in front of Daddy. Entitled little—
Before I could finish my thought, Jari upturned what was left of her bowl of fruit, and Luka chuckled at the mess of pulp and flesh as it spread a deep purple stain across the clean tablecloth, dripping onto the floor.
“Jari!” Izon reprimanded her, finally entering the room.
“I’ll get a cloth to clean up the mess,” I murmured, but Dyan put his hand out, preventing me from leaving.
I glanced between Jari and Izon, trying to see what he saw there that meant I shouldn’t move. They seemed to be locked in some kind of battle of wills, their eyes focused on each other’s.
Then Jari’s eyes glazed, and a tear spilled onto her cheek before sliding down. She covered her face with her hands and heaved a sob. I fought the instinct to throw my arms around her and remained where I was as Izon spoke again.
“Why are you crying, Jari?” Everything about the way he spoke was gentle this time.
She sobbed again. “Because… Because I don’t want her here. I don’t want a nanny. I want you to send her back to whatever planet you got her from. She doesn’t belong here with us, in our family.” Finally, she stopped for breath, her chest moving rapidly up and down. She parted her hands and looked at her father as more tears slid down her cheeks. “Please, Daddy.”
Izon sighed, and I expected him to tell her how ridiculous she was being and explain I needed to stay because he’d employed me. Comfort her but explain that he made the decisions. I needed him to do that. I needed him to do that for Mom.
But he didn’t.
“Tess.” He spoke my name sharply. “Take Luka and prepare him for the day. Leave Jari with me.”
I opened my mouth to question him, but his eyes met mine and I stopped. This wasn’t a time for argument or challenge. Instead I nodded, unfastened Luka from his seat and began to walk past Izon.
“Wrist.”
At the single word, I held my arm out, allowing my ident to slide up my arm and reveal my adapter, humiliation burning my cheeks as I did.
Later that evening I sat with Luka and Vike on the comfortable sofa in the sitting room. Vike was resting completely against me like we’d morphed into one person while I wasn’t looking, and Luke curled into my lap as I read to them from a book of stories I’d found on a shelf in the library. The stories were similar to the Earth fairytales Mom used to tell me, with the exception that these were filled with creatures I’d never heard of and landscapes I’d never imagined existed. I relaxed into the familiar tales of morality and sanitized horror.
We were winding down before I put the boys to bed, and Luka’s little head bobbed sleepily. I skimmed my hand across his soft hair now and again, enjoying his warm weight.
Izon cleared his throat as he appeared in the doorway, and I looked up. Gabby stood beside him.
“Gabby, take the boys to bed, please. I need to talk to Tess in my office.”
He didn’t address me directly, but I knew that was an instruction for me as much as one for Gabby, so I stood and passed Luka into her waiting arms. Then I pressed a kiss to Vik’s forehead.
“Goodnight, little guy. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
He looked at me, his eyes both sleepy and happy. “Night, Tessie.”
Gabby left, Luka held against one shoulder, Vike’s hand curled into her free one. Taking a deep breath, I switched my attention back to Izon before I remembered to lower my gaze.
“Your Grace.” I did my curtsey thing and waited for him to speak.
His next words were clipped. “My office. Now. Please.”
Inside his office, I couldn’t help but study the portrait above his desk. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it the first time he brought me in here.
“Sit down, please.” He indicated a seat, and his tone was all business.
I did as I was told, and obediently looked at my fingers as I twisted them in my lap.
“I made a mistake in hiring you.” There was no hesitation in his voice, and I looked up as shock flooded me. “Your presence is causing Jari distress.”
Shock gave way to indignation. “Excuse me? My presence is causing Jari distress?” In that moment, he wasn’t my boss or a king. He was simply a man with a daughter he couldn’t control and who held the key to my mother’s survival. “I could be wrong, but I don’t believe I threatened Jari over breakfast? Jari’s only “distress” at my being here is because she doesn’t get to be a spoiled brat. Calling all the shots and running roughshod over her brothers and me. She has some attitude issues, but I think you’re wrong to take those as indications of distress.” All of this had come out in a rush. I was too frantic about losing my mother’s care to be rational right now.
He held up a hand, his face still and cold-looking. Even his eyes had taken on that cold burn I had seen when I first met him. I shivered.
“I don’t care for your tone,” he said. “Nor do I care for your words. You forget yourself, Tessa. I am King, and this is my house and my family.”
I watched him, not sure where this icy cold blast of temper might lead. Perhaps I’d said too much.
“I shouldn’t have hired you. I should have stayed away from the Terran auction that day—I had no business being there. I usually send staff.” He shook his head. “It’s easier that way.”
I shifted in my seat. The shock and indignation had both been replaced by a creeping horror. It slithered inside me, bringing more of the panic that I might not be able to pay for Mom’s treatment.
He sighed. “I allowed grief to mess with my head, and I made a quick decision on the back of too little thought. I thought the children needed a constant caretaker… a female.” He hesitated and glanced above his head. “But you must be aware of your resemblance to my late wife?”
I nodded, unsure if he actually wanted me to answer. This seemed like a little more than I’d signed on for, and I wanted him to get to the point.
“Originally, I hoped that might help the children—that you would seem… familiar. But the comfort I hoped for hasn’t materialized. Instead, your presence is hurting Jari and her happiness comes first.” He leaned back in his chair and met my eyes. “It seems I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
My throat dried, and I tried to swallow, but I couldn’t. My thoughts swirled in and out of my head at random—Mom. Luka and his little baby fists grasping my hair. Jari and her fierce fangs. Izon… Izon
and his deep red eyes as he watched me from across the room. I shivered.
He picked up his device from the desk and tapped on the screen. When he spoke again, he didn’t look at me. “I’m terminating your contract.”
I gasped. I couldn’t help it. Even though I’d expected it, the words hit me like a punch to the gut, and everything I’d hoped for slipped away.
“I know a family looking for a nanny. I’ve already given them your name and supplied you with a very good reference.”
7
Izon
When I’d dismissed Tessa from the room at breakfast earlier in the day and taken Jari to get her ready for school myself, I’d spoken to my daughter for what felt like the first time in a long time. Really spoken. And more importantly, I’d listened.
I hadn’t taken the children’s feelings into account when I hired their nanny. I mean, yes. I’d been aware of their needs and also what my planet needed, but I hadn’t considered how having a nanny—and especially one with such a strong resemblance to their mother—would make any of them, particularly Jari, feel. And if I had, it was as I’d told Tessa. I’d harbored the hope that maybe it would make a transition easier.
I certainly hadn’t meant to install an imposter in the family.
Except that was exactly how Jari saw it. To her, Tessa was an imposter. She was the woman I hoped would replace her mother, and no amount of explaining convinced her of anything else.
Every time she looked at Tessa, or even saw her from the corner of her eye as Tessa tended to Luka, Jari was reminded of all she’d lost the day her mother died.
A couple of times, she’d made the same mistake I had when I looked out into the garden. She’d almost believed in her mother’s ghost, or that she hadn’t gone at all.
As I held Jari, I wasn’t dealing with an attitude-wracked pre-teen, I was comforting a hurt little girl who had lost her mom before she was meant to, and guilt filled me.
