by Kit Tunstall
This had to be what some males called the mating flare, a phenomenon for which he had more disdain than respect. It had to be a myth, and he had easily discarded the notion of such an instinct existing until that moment.
Realizing he was holding her hand too tightly, and she looked puzzled, and perhaps a bit alarmed, he immediately let go of her hand, dropping his to his sides and balling them into fists. “We welcome you to Dazonia Major and hope you will enjoy your stay with us, Ambassador.”
Her expression was calmer again, and she inclined her head. “Thank you, Prince Ysaak. I’m excited to be here and look forward to learning more about your culture.”
“As do I, Ambassador.” The formality of the moment helped restore his equanimity just as much as not touching her did. He would have to remember to keep distance between them and avoid any accidental touches.
He didn’t know what had come over him, but he wasn’t prepared to believe in some superstitious mating flare nonsense. More likely, it was simply because he had never seen a female approximately his own age before, and though she was an alien, she was still beautiful and exotic, and his body had given a predictable reaction. That was all there was to it, and there was no need to ascribe anything more to it.
He led her from the docking bay at the back of the palace through a long corridor of gray-tinged orangestone created from the soil of their planet hundreds of planet-cycles before. It had been fortified with metal polymers over the years that kept it sturdy and impervious to both attacks and the fierce lightning that ravaged the planet. With the addition of the dome roughly two hundred planet-cycles ago, weather was of little concern these days, but it was tradition to keep the palace as it had been for generations.
He pointed out architectural details and historical tidbits to Ambassador Williams as he led her down the corridor and up several flights of stairs. “I apologize for not having a levitator as Earthlings use,” he said when they started the third flight of stairs, and he noticed the ambassador looked a little flushed.
She waved a hand. “I rarely use the elevator back home anyway. Stairs are healthier for you.”
He inclined his head, making a mental note to tweak his translation program. The Dazons who were already integrating into Earth’s culture would have far fewer mistakes in their communication, because the translation program would adapt quickly when immersed in a foreign language. Having the ambassador here would help his communication device adapt faster too, but there were bound to be errors in the interim.
It was both a relief and a disappointment to bring her to a suite of rooms set aside for her use a few moments later. He was eager to flee from her proximity, though also strangely reluctant to do so. Something about the ambassador drew him in and made him want to be by her side. Again, he discarded the notion that it could be something as primitive as a mating flare. If Dazons had ever had such an instinct, surely it had been bred out of them in the last three generations during the genetic tampering necessary to reproduce at all, coupled with the lack of females, since only twenty percent of their population were women.
He bowed to her at the doorway. “If you’re well rested, we have a state dinner planned for this evening to welcome you, and you’ll meet most of the policymakers at that time. All of the High Council will be in attendance, along with some representatives from the General Council, and the Emperor and First Prince, of course.”
“I’m sure I’ll feel up to attending, Prince Ysaak. Will you be there?”
The question was innocent, but he was certain he wasn’t imagining the sparkle of interest in her eyes when she glanced at him. That the attraction might be mutual was exhilarating, yet terrifying. He had absolutely no experience with the opposite sex, other than his sister, Taleeza. She was only twelve planet-cycles old, and she was being groomed for her role as part of the breeding program. He rarely interacted with his little sister, and he had never met the woman who had been his egg donor.
There had certainly never been a girlfriend or any kind of sexual companion other than some light experimentation with other males in his youth. If she was attracted to him, she might expect things he had no idea how to give. It was unlikely though. After all, she was an ambassador on an important mission, and she wasn’t likely to be swayed by anything so rudimentary as a physical attraction. On Earth, men and women were roughly equal in number, so she wouldn’t find a male to be a novelty worth exploring.
Not that he considered her a novelty. She was exquisite and fascinating, but not because she was such a rare sight. He was certain if he had suddenly been dropped into a room full of thousands of Earth women, he would have sought out and found Embeth Williams automatically anyway. She drew him personally, which was alarming.
Realizing he still hadn’t answered, he inclined his head once. “Yes, I’ll be there. I’ll also escort you to the meeting room. Please settle in, and if you require any assistance, press this button.” He showed her the button on the inside of the doorway, but still didn’t step into her room. “I shall see you this evening, Ambassador Williams.”
“Thank you, Prince Ysaak,” she murmured and bent her head before disappearing behind the door as he pressed the button to close it. The hydraulic hiss was like a bomb going off and startled him though he had heard the sound a million times. He’d simply been so focused on her deep brown eyes and creamy mocha skin that he had lost the ability to focus on anything else.
Shaking his head at his own behavior, he turned and strode from the ambassador’s quarters, determined to deal with this unusual reaction. He had to completely shut it down by the time evening came around, and he was in her presence again.
Chapter Two
The suite of rooms was sumptuous and had a familiar enough layout that she was able to determine what was meant to be the bed, where to hang her clothes—which someone had already done—and which room acted as the restroom. The plumbing was a bit different than what she was used to, but she soon figured it out and had a bath running in the tub in no time.
She wasn’t certain what material they used. It looked like marble with gray lines twisting through a burnt-orange base, but it felt slightly rough, and there was no grout or anything to suggest it had been built a piece at a time. It simply appeared to be a single large piece of whatever building material hollowed out to form a section for soaking.
Despite the slightly rough texture, it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. As she settled into it, she realized it actually had a bit of an exfoliating effect, and coupled with the warm water filling the basin, she could feel some of her tension fading away.
She was still nervous about the forthcoming state dinner that evening, but even more nervous about the talks that were due to begin the next morning. Anxiety threatened to get the best of her for a moment, and she breathed deeply in an attempt to calm herself.
There was a daunting task ahead of her, but when she wasn’t panicking, she knew she was well suited for it. She wasn’t completely close-minded to the idea of sharing genetic material with the Dazon, but she also didn’t regard them as superior beings to whom the humans must yield everything.
She was driven to make sure Earth received just as much benefit from any arrangement and summoning a mental picture of Elena during her last few days, when she had suffered so greatly that even doctors could do little to control her pain, would always have the effect of helping her focus on what was at stake, no matter how far they might veer off course.
She appreciated her father’s confidence in her, and she truly didn’t believe there was another ambassador who could do a better job, but she was still thrust into an alien situation with literal aliens, and it could be difficult to surmount cultural differences to find a mutually satisfying solution that would ensure peace for all.
Yeah, no pressure at all there. However this went, it could either lead to a new era of prosperity and harmony for Earthlings, or it might cause an intergalactic war. No wonder she was tense and anxious about the whole thing.
/> She hastened to reassure herself that her sudden bout of nerves had absolutely nothing to do with the Second Prince, as he’d introduced himself. She hadn’t learned a great deal about the royal hierarchy of Dazon, simply because there hadn’t been enough time as she had crammed as much knowledge as possible into her brain in a short span of time.
She knew the Emperor led, and the First Prince would inherit from him someday. The second Prince was the second son, and any subsequent princes bore the title of third, fourth, fifth, etc. She was fuzzy on how much power any of the second and beyond princes wielded, but she hoped she had an ally in the young prince. Not that he was any younger than her, she was sure. It was difficult to tell, but he appeared to be around her age. She knew Dazon days lasted thirty-one hours instead of twenty-four, so he could be anywhere between twenty and thirty planet-cycles and still look around thirty years old. It didn’t matter, and it was silly to speculate.
She shouldn’t be thinking about anything but preparing for the evening ahead. She certainly shouldn’t be mooning over the second prince of the royal family of this alien planet. It had been too long since she’d been on a date, and she had certainly not prioritized romantic attachments over the years as she focused on her career in the diplomatic corps.
Perhaps that was catching up with her. It had to be why she was so fiercely attracted to the alien who had greeted her. Ysaak was impressive and sexy, but she hadn’t anticipated feeling actual attraction for any of the Dazons males. The scenario had honestly never occurred to her, and now she considered herself foolish for not at least accounting for the possibility and preparing a plan to deal with it.
The most obvious plan was to avoid the prince as much as possible, but that sounded unfeasible when he had mentioned he would be her guide during her stay. She would probably spend most of her time with the prince, so she would have to make sure she didn’t make a damned fool of herself or allow the attraction to get out-of-hand. There were far more important things to focus on, like peace for two planets, instead of her own suddenly raging libido.
Disgusted with herself, she slid from the tub and spent several minutes trying to figure out how to empty it before wrapping herself in a long silken cloth that felt nothing like a towel. She wondered how it wicked away moisture as the cloth abruptly adhered to her body in a similar fashion to the suits the Dazon wore, aside from the prince’s garb, and the cloth rapidly absorbed every drop of water on her body; even the places it didn’t touch.
She watched in awe as the fabric seemed to suck up droplets from her feet as though using a vacuum, though she could feel nothing that suggested such an action. The process was fascinating, and as soon as she was dry, the cloth loosened again so she could hang it on the rack where it had been. It felt as dry and silky as ever.
How gauche to be impressed by a towel, she thought with a small giggle as she padded from the bathroom into the main sleeping chamber. She flipped through the clothing she had brought, a mix of formal and professional attire, along with a couple of casual outfits in case there was an opportunity to explore on her own.
For the evening ahead, she picked a simple black dress, figuring it was a safe bet. It had a modest neckline, fitted bodice, and A-line skirt that ended a couple of inches above her ankles. It was nothing spectacular, but until she had a chance to evaluate how the others dressed, it was a safe and practical choice. She kept her makeup and jewelry discreet, and when she was done, she looked prim and proper, as expected of an ambassador.
Which was why it was such a surprise to see the flare of heat in Ysaak’s eyes when he came to fetch her a bit later. She was understated and elegant, but from the flash and shifting of green with gold in his quickly shielded eyes, she could have been standing naked before him.
She was certain she didn’t imagine it, and neither did she imagine the way he twitched and moved away from her when she deliberately brushed her hand against his arm. Purely as an experiment, she told herself, though she knew she was a big liar. She couldn’t believe how much she wanted to touch the man she barely knew. It wasn’t even strictly sexual. She simply wanted to run her fingers down his arms, perhaps across his chest, and hold his hand. She hadn’t had such a response to anyone since her first crush in junior high twenty years ago. She was conflicted and confused by how Prince Ysaak made her feel.
“Are you ready, Ambassador Williams?”
She nodded, waiting to see if he would offer her his arm, but he didn’t. It must not be the custom, so she fell into step beside him, careful to maintain a few inches between them, because she was so tempted to lean into him instead. The reaction was disconcerting and distracting her from something that required full attention.
“I hope you won’t think me too forward for saying you look lovely, Ambassador.”
She smiled at him, praising his garb, which was similar to what he’d worn earlier, but with a more fitted jacket and tighter trousers. Rather than the beige color, this garb was stark black. It suited him well. “You look very dashing yourself, Prince Ysaak.”
Damon trailed behind them, and she was comforted by his presence. She was certain there were guards all over the palace, but none of them had a personal stake in ensuring her safety the way Damon did.
Part of the agreement was he went wherever she went unless she chose to dismiss him. However, when they reached a large room with a domed ceiling composed of some kind of clear material that wasn’t quite as clear as glass or as opaque as plastic, he took up residence near the doorway, giving her a nod. That was standard protocol, and she tried not to let it add to her nervousness as she walked beside the prince into the large room.
There were tables set up along the back of the room, but the occupants currently mingled in the front part of the room. She observed quietly, seeing a mix of males in their black uniforms and others wearing the more traditional outfit like Ysaak’s. She shouldn’t have been surprised, but it was a bit startling to see a room full of men and know she was the only woman present.
Of course she had realized on an intellectual level that because there were far more Dazon men than women that the men would dominate society and all aspects of it, but it was still startling to see evidence of it after having lived in a roughly equal society all of her life. Her father’s appointments had taken her some places where there were still sharp disparities between genders, but in most of the places she had lived and grown up, men and women mingled and were considered equals.
It was daunting and a bit frightening to know she was the only woman in the room. It left her feeling vulnerable, and she couldn’t believe the swell of relief she felt when her gaze fell on an old woman seated at one of the tables. At least there was one woman present besides herself. She leaned close to the prince, nodding in the direction of the elderly woman. “Who is she?”
“She is Councilor Denbo Shah’s wife,” said Ysaak, nodding toward a man near them who had to be at least half the other woman’s age.
“He’s so young,” she said without thought before blushing. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate.”
The prince shrugged a shoulder. “It matters not, Ambassador. Few men can afford to maintain a wife, and the option isn’t available until their fertility fades. At that point, the women choose to do what they wish with the rest of their lives. Some choose marriage, and others choose a different way. Nexa Shah chose to marry the councilman, and he’s honored to have the gift of a mate.”
She nodded, doing her best to hide how strange she found it that a man in his thirties would have married a woman who looked to be in her mid- to late-sixties. The culture was quite different, obviously, and she was certain it had been influenced by the biological weapon that had kept their females from reproducing and had gradually edged the entire population closer to extinction.
As they became aware of her presence, the attendees came to greet her. She recognized them immediately as politicians, because there was something smarmy about them all, and it was a quality inherent to all
politicians, whether human or alien, or so it seemed.
She was gracious and polite, but also relieved when they worked their way to the center of the room, where a wizened man sat on a throne that looked like it was made from clear acrylic. It was unimpressive, but perhaps the acrylic-like substance was a rare or expensive material in their world.
The man himself had shorter stature than many of the other Dazon males, who were routinely above seven feet tall, but that didn’t make him seem any less powerful. He was watchful, with alert dark eyes set into his brown skin with its luminescent golden glow. He inclined his head to her, but made no move to stand when his son introduced him as Emperor Chon.
She bowed at the waist, uncertain if that was the proper decorum, but having been unable to find any information about it in the data provided to her by Commander Darvig when she had stayed at the consulate on the Moon to research the culture. “I’m pleased to meet you, Emperor Talek.”
Talek touched two fingers to his forehead. “Welcome to our home, Ambassador Williams. I know you’ve met my younger son, and allow me to present First Prince Aryk Chon, who is my successor.”
Her gaze moved to a tall Dazon standing near the throne. Like Ysaak, he wore the black suit with a long jacket and tightly fitted trousers. There were gold buttons going down his jacket, but that was the only decoration that suggested he held any sort of status. His skin was more brownish than gold, and his eyes were mud-brown. His hair was thicker and longer than Ysaak’s, but his brow ridge wasn’t as developed or pronounced.
Upon first impression, she gleaned he was petulant and demanding, bordering on cruel. She had no basis for that assumption, and she knew it wasn’t right to judge him by his appearance. Still, she was cautious and wary when she inclined her head to the First Prince.
Aryk didn’t bother with the gesture of respect or nodding his head. He said an abrupt, “Ambassador,” and that was his sole greeting. His body language suggested he was there under duress, and he seemed stiff and unwelcoming. More than that, he seemed angered to be in her presence, and she sensed he thought he was better than she was.
