by Desiree Hunt
My mouth drops open. I want to lie. I don’t want to add to my discomfort by admitting how intensely her son makes me feel… everything. But she’s looking at me, waiting for an explanation, and my own sense of survival kicks in, warning me not to lie to her.
“I… feel different around him, something that I’ve never felt with any other man.” It is the most non-answer, half-truth that I can muster, but it appears to have been enough as Volex’s mom looks at me absolutely beaming with joy.
“That is wonderful!” she exclaims, and I wonder if I’ve used words that indicate more than I had intended. “You will attend the ball together tonight. It is decided.” She claps her hands and turns for the door, saying over her shoulder, “Take her to your rooms, Volex. I’ll send the fashioners.”
Volex’s whole body sags with what appears to be relief when his mother disappears behind the giant closing doors.
I want to hate him. I want to hit him again. I want to rip his face off just as I had vowed, but after meeting his mother, all of my anger has escaped me.
“So that’s Mom,” I say, pulling my oh-so-flimsy robe tighter around me. “How many kids did she start out with?” I’m thinking she had to have had twelve or thirteen. I just can’t imagine all of her children managing to make it to adulthood.
Looking sheepish, Volex cracks a smile. “Yes, that is Mother.” His smile broadens and then fades.
“That was really shitty what you did, locking me in this place. It wasn’t right.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Why’d you do it?”
He shrugged. “I wasn’t ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“For you… For the changes you bring… For caring about something too precious ever be able to survive losing it.”
My mouth drops open but my brain manages to keep working. “Why don’t you want me to go to the ball? What’s not safe about it?”
Volex shrugs as if to say it’s not a big deal, but his expression is worried. “Sometimes the suitors at these balls can be very determined.” He shuffles his feet. “Sometimes they get rid of their competition.”
My mouth drops open even further and my brows almost go up to my hairline.
“Come on,” he says, slipping his hand over mine. He leads me out through the large doors and down the vast hallway. He doesn’t pull me along beside him this time. He walks with me, side by side, together.
The walk back to Volex’s suite of rooms is a surprisingly long one, and we walk it in silence. It’s not rushed this time, either, and while holding his hand, walking by his side, I let my eyes linger on all of the amazing things there are to see along the way.
The light fixtures appear to be glowing crystals, although I’ve realized sometimes there is light without any discernible source. It’s as if an invisible sun will be floating in the air within a small alcove, painting the walls and fixtures with light and shadows.
In another spot, my mouth falls open and my eyes go wide as we pass a bench carved from solid rock. That in and of itself isn’t that impressive. What is so shocking is that the rock appears to be flowing like a very slow moving liquid. I get Volex to pause so that I can stand and watch. There are braces around the structure and it very, very slowly shapes itself to those braces before the braces move themselves to another spot.
It’s like a in-motion sculpture.
Volex gives my hand the gentlest of tugs—a request instead of a demand—and we are walking again.
“I have to go home,” I say quietly. “I can’t stay.”
“I know,” he says.
Why can’t I stay? What’s at home for me really?
Love? No…
A special home? Nothing I wasn’t looking forward to moving up and out of…
Family? Well, there’s Mr. Cuddles…
My eyes shift to Volex, and I wonder if Volex could become my family. I have no one besides a cat, and he’s not even mine. My grandmother had been my only family. As for friends, with juggling work and a full time course load, I’ve lost touch with my friends over the last three years.
The landlord, my teachers, and Mr. Cuddles would be the only ones to notice I was gone.
I think of my grandmother. I can see her sad eyes as she shakes her head at me. She always wanted the best for me, and she believed I could do anything—but not at the cost of having no life to come home to after all the work is done. She would not have approved.
But would she have approved of this? Of Volex?
I look up at him out of the corner of my eye, and I’m glad that he doesn’t notice. If he asked for my thoughts, I wouldn’t know what to tell him. I don’t know what I want.
But I do like the way my hand feels in his…
Finally, we reach Volex’s suite of rooms, and I drag my feet as I walk inside.
“Are you tired?” Volex asks.
I nod my head, not wanting to expend the energy of giving him a voice answer. I am exhausted. Completely drained. All the adrenaline that had been setting my senses on fire has burned away, and now I feel shaky and want to sleep.
I think of my bed back home, and I remember the dark skies outside. I’d already had a long day of work followed by studying when the little cupid tricked me into taking his test and then abducted me.
“There’s time,” Volex says, keeping my hand in his as he leads me through to his bedroom. “Sleep and rest. I’ll order food delivered. When the fashioner’s arrive, trust me,” he sighs, “you’ll need your strength.”
Kissing me on the forehead, he leaves, closing his bedroom door behind him.
My gaze fixes on the door’s handle as my heartbeat quickens. Fear grips me that I’ve been locked away again.
It only takes a few long strides to reach the door, and when I do, I slide my hand into the indented handle and yank. The door comes open with silent ease.
Turning, Volex looks at me with a question in his expression.
“Just checking. Door… Freedom.”
Volex smiles sheepishly and nods understanding.
Letting the door swing silently closed again, I turn my attention to the continent-sized circular bed near the center of the room. Pulling back the covers, I take an experimental sniff as I lean in.
“Woof. I guess sex smells like sex no matter where you are.”
I do a quick inventory of the room and decide to lie down on something that looks like a chaise lounge. Thankfully it appears to have been designed to fit Volex’s body instead of the tiny figures of the women, so I’m able to stretch out and get pretty comfortable.
“He’s probably had sex on this, too,” I mutter to myself, but I block the thought from my mind. “At least it smells clean.”
Curling as best I can into my small robe, I give way to the heavy sleep that captures and pulls me down. My body jerks a couple of times and I wake up with a start, expecting to see Sirius, the cupid, hovering over me, but the room is empty each time. Finally, my mind gives in to the exhaustion my body feels and sleep soon takes me.
Chapter 11
Aisha
My eyes flutter open to the sound of clinking. I see what I can only describe as a gentleman—albeit a blue one—bent over a large tray of food. He’s fussing with it. I hear tinkling and then see that he is stirring a drink.
Reaching for my robe’s hem to make sure that I’m not showing off my more delicate bits to a stranger, I realize that I’m now covered with a warm, fleece-like blanket except that it’s softer than anything I’ve ever felt before. It feels like a cloud had sex with a mink, and it makes me happy with the thought of laying here for hours under it. But then the gentleman turns to me with a goblet in hand and my tummy rumbles in happy anticipation, I know that it’s time to get up.
I push myself to a sitting position while keeping the blanket hugged close to my body as the butler-gentleman carries over a small goblet and bends down with one knee on the floor.
“My lady, please take a sip,” he says, holding the
goblet out.
Okay, litmus test time. They’re either going to drug me, cook me and serve me up as the main course at the ball, or this is going to be something super yummy for my very empty tummy and this guy is just trying to do all that he can to take care of my needs.
Choosing to act on blind faith, I take the goblet from him. I figure that if I want to get home that I have to trust someone sometime, and I might as well start right now.
Lifting the goblet to my lips, I’m surprised at the bold mingling of flavors that dance over my tongue. I taste honey, lemon and the tangy sharpness of something like apple cider vinegar in the background. But, it’s all very sweet, and without really understanding what it is I like about the drink, I find that I like it very much.
The man is still in front of me on his knee, his brow ridges arched with an expectant look on his face. Not knowing what else to do, I take another sip and then hold the goblet up and say, “good.”
“Good!” he says, breaking into a huge smile as he claps his hands once. “You feel fine? No sickness? No upset in your stomach?”
Oh fuck, they did poison me.
“No…,” I answer, doing my best to remain calm and not throw myself at the man with my hands wrapped around his throat. “Am I supposed to feel okay?”
“Yes, yes!” he answers excitedly. Getting to his feet, he moves a low square block next to me. Then, he retrieves the tray and sets it on the block. With it at eye level, I can finally appreciate all of the amazing treats it holds.
“The drink is a test,” he goes on, “to find out if your system is compatible with our food. If it had made your stomach upset, I would have known that you would not be able to eat many of our foods. But, because the drink tastes good to you and you feel fine, our foods should be safe and palatable to you as well.”
He was smiling from ear to ear as he said all of this. It was as if providing me with something to eat gave him more joy than he knew what to do with.
“Thank you,” I say, taking a small plate filled with what I can best describe as finger sandwiches. Taking a bite of one, I close my eyes as they roll back in my head with a moan. It tastes just like a little cucumber sandwich.
Looking over the other food options, I see that the rest is similar—yet different—than a lot of foods I’m used to. There is a small fruit that tastes and looks like a blueberry, a cherry, and a grape all had an orgy. When I bite into it, it has the sensation of popping in my mouth before flooding my tastebuds with a juicy goodness as the fruit’s skin dissolves away to nothing.
“Thank you. This is all wonderful,” I say, suddenly feeling ravenous. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was.
Movement out of the corner of my eye draws my attention toward the doorway. There, Volex is standing with his shoulder against the frame and his enormous arms over his muscle sculpted chest.
Seeing my attention shift to Volex, the food butler butterflies his hands and presses them into his chest and then gives me a small head bow before taking leave of the room. Volex allows him to pass and then moves deeper into the room.
He looks like a guy who’s nervous but good at hiding it, I think as I watch Volex sink his hands into this pants pockets. His shirt has the straight lines of a buttoned tunic and his pants look much like the pants of men back home.
“Was the bed not to your liking? Perhaps you are used to different sleeping accommodations?”
I look from Volex to the bed. “Uh… it had a bit of wear and tear going on and I thought it better to sleep over here.”
He gets a crease between his brow ridges as his gaze travels the bed. “It’s damaged?”
“Um…” Wow, how do I say this. “It looked as if someone had just had sex in it.”
Blunt’s good.
“Yes! I was with someone last night and this morning.”
Okay, blunt’s not so good. He’s actually smiling! It’s like he’s pleased that he could answer a question.
“I will not be sleeping in somebody’s sexy time left overs,” I say, giving up all pretense of politeness before taking another bite of cucumber-ish sandwich.
“Oh…”
“I know that you and me got the whole one true love thing happening, but I don’t do anybody’s sloppy seconds, and from the sound and look of things, you’ve had half the kingdom in that bed. Me and that bed will not be sharing company.”
Volex looks several times back and forth between me and the bed before crossing the room and sitting down next to me on the chaise lounge.
“Sloppy seconds?” he asks.
“Yeah, you know… I don’t share my men.”
Why am I having to spell this out?
“Your men don’t sleep with anybody else?”
I stop eating and give Volex my full attention. “No, they don’t.”
“And if they do?”
“Then they aren’t my man any more.” It’s a struggle to keep my temper in check, but I manage.
“So your men have sex with you and only you…”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me. Do you guys get hooked up and then go sleep with whoever you want?”
Volex’s expression is one of blank confusion before he gives a noncommittal shrug that errs on the side of, “Yes.”
“Ah hell no,” I say, standing up and pacing away, but I make sure that I take one of those yummy cucumber thingies with me. “This isn’t going to work. Me and you,”—I motion back and forth between us—“are not going to work. Soulmates or not. I am not living my life with some cheating man-whore who can’t keep his pants zipped around other women… or men!” I add in haste just to make sure both bases are covered. “You need to send me home.”
Volex takes a deep breath and looks as if he’s regrouping his thoughts. Then with a nod that has everything to do with whatever thoughts are running through his head rather than being aimed at me, he stands up and crosses the room to me. I pop the little sandwich in my mouth—chewing and swallowing it fast—so that it’s not in my hands when Volex takes my hands in his.
“Give me a chance, Aisha,” he says, locking his gaze with mine, and just like that, my insides melt.
How does he do that! All my anger is gone, and I want to say yes to anything he asks. I want to love him. I want to want to spend my life with him.
“We are still very new to each other,” he goes on, “and I am still learning your ways. I hope that you will be patient with me. I have to give my mother and the court a bride-to-be, and I want that woman to be you. I know that you are going back home, and I will do my best to get you there, but by being the woman on my arm in the meantime, you are saving my life. I mean that literally. You are the shield between me and all the women who want to use me as a stepping stone to a life that has nothing to do with love and companionship and instead has everything to do with prestige and power. I am a pawn to them all—and you are the only person on any world standing up for my well-being.”
I am mesmerized by him, his eyes, his words and that deep melodic voice of his. It’s an effort not to swoon physically into him. If he were to throw me down on that nasty bed right now, I’d let him. I’d let him have me in any position he wanted.
Be strong, girl, my inner Beyonce warns.
“Uh… Okay. I forgive you.” The words come out as a squeak more than anything else, and the embarrassment of it heats my cheeks. But, it’s all forgotten when Volex breaks into a smile that almost makes my knees buckle. I shift unsteadily when he bends low to kiss my hand.
“I promise that as long as you are in my life, I will not share my body with another,” he says, leaning in to kiss my cheek this time.
Turning my head, I capture his lips with my own and wrap my arms around his neck. I arch into him, pressing the soft swells of my breasts into his warm, hard chest. Then, when his arms slide low around my back, encircling me and holding me to him, I moan contentedly into his mouth.
“I could get used to being a one woman man,” he says smiling with his lips against
mine. I nip at the tip of his nose playfully before we pull away.
I’m swaying around like a drunk fool, I feel giddy, and I’m smiling from ear to ear.
Thought you were gonna rip his face off… It’s Beyonce again. I just tell her, Shhhhh.
“Hello!” a voice calls from the suite’s first room.
“In here,” Volex calls back. A second later a troupe of three women and one man enters single file. As the women spread out their bounty of equipment and paraphernalia, the man heads directly to me.
“My oh my, she is a tall drink.” He walks a wide circle around me. “Let’s see what we have to work with,” he says when he’s at my back, and in the next instant my robe is being slipped off my shoulders and down my body leaving me as naked as the day I was born… all except for my fuzzy bunny slippers.
I gasp and cover myself, and Volex spins his back to me so fast that he falls over one of the women.
The new man gives a low, appreciative whistle as he continues his walk around me until he’s at my front again.
I know that I should be mad at him, that I should yell or at the very least yank my robe up, but the man has the air of someone who is doing what they are supposed to do, and it somehow keeps me frozen in place.
“Where are my manners?” he exclaims.
“Yes, where…?”
“My name is Nodi, and I am the Queen’s master seamster. These are my assistants,”—he motions to the women still setting up equipment—none of it looks like cloth—“and we’ll be dressing you for the ball tonight.”
Taking a step back, he props his elbow on his hand and then holds his chin between his thumb and forefinger as he takes another, slower, stroll around me. He makes “hmmm” and “mmhmmm” noises as he goes. Then from somewhere behind me, I hear him snap his fingers. “Bring me the barnitrov,” he says. The women gasp and then applaud his command.
Once more standing in front of me, one of the ladies hands Nodi a sheet of something large and stiff. If white mother of pearl and the moon got together and had a baby, it would be this stuff. It is beautiful, but I have no idea how they expect me to wear it.
