Alien Romance: The Alien's Vanished Princess: Scifi Alien Abduction Romance (Alien Romance, Alien Invasion Romance, BBW) (Space Beasts Book 4)

by Alyssa Ezra

  Tara lay on her other side, dressed in the rotted rags of another wedding gown, one which had been rudely half-ripped from her. Her skin was gray, her face white, and a terrible mottling of purple-black bruises the exact shape of Brenn’s fingers spanned the entirety of her neck.

  Blood tangled into her hair and dried in a crust at the corner of her mouth, and her lips were blue. Moira stared at her in abject horror, unable to move, her own body going cold even with Brenn’s hot bulk snug against her back.

  As she stared, the figure twitched suddenly, and its bruised-looking eyelids slid up. Beneath them, Tara's eyes were still alive, filled with a terrifying light, though their bright blue irises had bleached out, and their whites were full of little snaps of red. She glared into her horrified sister's face, and then opened her mouth, revealing blackness inside. How could you? Tara demanded in a hiss.

  Moira sat up with a gasp, flinching violently. She pulled away from Brenn instinctively and balled up under a corner of the coverlet. Her body was covered in cold sweat, and she shivered in the warm room. Oh God. Oh God. How could I forget, even for a minute? What did I let myself do?

  Brenn let out a grunt and opened an eye. He blinked at her, and the glaze of sleep receded as a look of concern crossed his face. “Bad dream?” he mumbled.

  She nodded mutely, not yet able to speak.

  He reached for her--but then saw her face and hesitated. “What was it?”

  She stared back at him, feeling cloven inside. Part of her wanted to lunge for the knife still sheathed in his belt on the floor a few feet away. Grab it, put it to his throat, and demand he tell her what the Hell he had done to her sister. The other part wanted to tell him some relatable part of the story that still wouldn’t give her away: a nightmare about the murder of a loved one. No details. Just enough for her to reach out for comfort with.

  She closed her eyes, swallowing, struggling for a practical answer to the fight inside of her. “I get...nightmares a lot.”

  His warm hand slid up her back, and he sucked air as he sensed her trembling. “They must be very bad, little one.”

  She managed not to flinch away, or lean into his caress either. Her head was slowly clearing as her heart rate slowed. “They’re not a great way to start the morning, that’s for sure.”

  He sighed, and rubbed her back gently. “Let’s get up then, wash off the fear-sweat and get you ready for a meal.”

  She had to agree. Her stomach clenched at the mere suggestion, even with the memory of Tara’s corpse in her head, and it struck her that she had not eaten since a meager in-flight meal aboard the transport yesterday. Unballing, she sat up...and noticed the weight of the bracelets on her wrists.

  She blinked down at them, watching the gemstones change color in the glow of the room, and yesterday came back to her with full weight. She blushed a little...and he let out that throaty chuckle of his as he saw her face.

  “I took the liberty of having my servants make you some clothes,” he said breezily as he slid out of bed and walked nude across the room. He touched an unmarked section of wall and it slid aside, revealing a rack of both men and women’s clothes.

  The men’s were sized for him: supple trousers and tunics of the same thin leather, in various shades of blue. Her clothes were in blue as well. He pulled out another gown with an integrated bodice, this one simpler and in much deeper blue than her wedding dress. “Will this do?”

  “It’s fine,” she replied distractedly, trying to get the memory of her sister’s dead, enraged face out of her mind. After a moment, she forced herself out from under the covers and went to join him as he walked to the edge of the bathing pool.

  Brenn set the clothes aside on a low table and slid into the water, sighing contentedly. After a few moments of hesitation, she joined him, but stayed on the other side of the pool for now, settling onto its submerged bench.

  “At noon, there is a celebration feast to acknowledge our union. Do you think you will feel well enough to attend?” A faint line of concern appeared between his silvery brows.

  She forced a smile after a moment’s shock. “I wouldn’t embarrass you by avoiding it. Of course, I’ll be there.”

  The concern vanished--but the look of relief that flooded in to replace it shocked her even more. “I am glad to hear it. Your absence would have been...difficult to explain.”

  “Well….” She managed a slightly sly look. “You could have always said that you wore me out.”

  That made him grin, and reach out to pull her against his side. He buried his nose in her hair. “Later, for that. A proper feast, first.”

  She wasn't surprised when he led her right back out to the chamber where they had been so precipitously wed. It has been cleared of the garlands from last night, and fresh ones lay around the long tables that now spanned most of the space.

  The guests, some of whom were paired off in different arrangements than they had been the afternoon before, had all attended, and the low rumble of conversation echoed off the walls, providing a strangely soothing white noise background to nearer conversations.

  The whole crowd stood up and applauded when the pair walked out of the nuptial chamber. Moira blushed a little and ducked her head, but Brenn simply grinned and wrapped an arm around her. Janis stood to announce them, and then walked over, his long, lined face all smiles. “It is a blessing to see you both happy and together this day. May you have many days like this to come.”

  “Thank you, Janis.” Brenn lifted his chin. “I must commend you for being so insistent that I seek a new bride after the previous... circumstances.”

  Moira peered between the two of them, wondering what part of that conversation she had missed. What previous circumstances? Had they involved her sister? Worse, had they involved more than one girl, including Tara? What had happened, and why was everyone so secretive about it?

  Brenn let her to a seat at the center of the most highly decorated table, and went to fix her up a plate of food. She looked around at the delicacies spread across the tabletop, and recognized only a few. Bread seemed to be an almost universal on any world that grew grain.

  The loaves here were small, roughly the size of two fists held together, and deep brown. She noticed an absence of anything that looked like dairy, which disappointed her a little. But then again, the local environment seemed to be short on mammals, aside from the planet's dominant race.

  She did notice an assortment of nut pastes, jams and jellies--many in exotic colors such as bright green, deep purple or almost neon blue. Some were too sharp or pungent smelling, but others smelled amazing.

  A bowl of eggs of various sizes and shell colors sat next to a tureen full of cloudy, savory-smelling yellow soup. The spicy scented salad, full of multi-colored flower petals as well as various greens, tempted her a little, but ironically, all she could really think about right now was her mother's waffles.

  I miss her so much. I hope she’s all right. She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering those tiny living quarters, the dining table that would slide silently out of the wall when they had a meal to eat, and the grayish soy-enhanced waffles that her mother had made bearable with dollops of real butter and black market maple syrup.

  It wasn't the food, though, so much as the company. Though...I’m not sure I’d want her at this particular celebration. Sorry, Mom. She had to fight down a surge of embarrassment as she wondered what her mother would think of her right now, having slept with a man that her sister had come to this planet to marry, and who may have actually killed her.

  It was time to get back on track. Now that Brenn was sufficiently convinced that she was loyal to him and not here with any ulterior motives, it was time for her to start looking for clues. The chief adviser knew something. But she also knew that whatever Janis did know, he wouldn't be giving it up.

  She had no doubt of his loyalty to the king. If she tried to get information from him, chances were that her attempt would get right back to Brenn. And there would go any
trust that she had built with him.

  No. She would need to find and approach someone less...high profile. Someone whose presence and ability to pick up gossip would be considerably less noticeable. Someone who might even have a bit of resentment against the King...largely because of their difference in position and power.

  Of course. The servants. One of them must have seen or learned something. It may have been twenty-five years ago by this place’s chronology, but I'm sure that some of the older servants must have witnessed what happened to my sister--or if not witnessed it, heard about it. Someone has to know.

  Brenn returned with her plate full of samples of pretty much everything on the table, smiling. “I thought I would help you get used to some of the local foods.” He set the plate down in front of her, then ladled himself a bowl of soup and grabbed two small blue-green eggs before settling into his seat. He pointed at a small mound of purple jelly. “Sana berries are a strong stimulant. It’s used in jellies and tea. It’s what we have instead of coffee. Tastes a bit like cherries.”

  “You’ve had cherries?”

  He chuckled. “Such things are difficult to import, so they’re expensive, but I’ve tried a few Earth delicacies. Try it.”

  She shrugged and broke off the end of her bread loaf, then spread some of the purple goop onto it. She took an experimental bite...and her eyebrows rose. “Huh.” She chewed and swallowed. The stuff did taste like cherries--and left behind a slightly acrid dark-chocolate aftertaste. “Not bad.”

  “Here, I’ll go over everything on your plate. I know some of the items may taste a bit strange to you, but most are not difficult to get used to.” He peeled a blue green egg and bit into it, smiling as she nodded.

  The others kept looking over at the two of them, mostly with friendly eyes, many giving her in particular curious glances. She kept a smile on her face as she interacted with Brenn, making sure to act as optimistic and curious as possible as he shared some of the foods of his culture with her. It was almost...romantic.

  She couldn’t get too attached to the warm feelings that his tender, friendly treatment of her stirred inside of her...but it helped her maintain a convincing act while she started digging up clues. And that was all it was.

  Really.

  Chapter 6: Don’t Leave Me

  When the feast was over, Telara showed up to lead Moira to her private chambers so she could have some time to herself while Brenn spoke with his advisors. The chambers were situated right across the hall from Brenn’s, and consisted of three large rooms.

  The first was her bedchamber, done up in blue and silver, with a tile floor and those same strange, translucent, milky colored walls. A round bed on a low platform dominated the room. It had another of those satiny blue coverlets on it, and translucent drapery that hung from a large ring suspended from the ceiling, and matched the curtains on the three small, round windows.

  Moira spared a peek out of those windows and smiled a little: they looked out on the first patch of greenery she has seen since entering the city. It wasn't much of a garden--just a moss lawn, a bench, a fountain and a few trees--but after living without for so long and then seeing the gorgeous forest outside the city walls, she didn't want to go without again.

  The old servant walked Moira around the room, showing her where to touch the walls to make them slide back and reveal the full closet and the linen cabinet with its towels and spare bedding. She blinked in surprise at all the dresses and gowns, and looked up at Telara. “Whose clothes are these?”

  The woman smiled indulgently. “Why, they're yours, dear. Don't you like them? They were altered to fit you.”

  Wait, what was that? “I like them just fine, but I was wondering who they belonged to originally?” She poked through the closet, looking at some of the blue, silver and white gowns and trying to imagine them on Tara.

  The servant hesitated. “I'm sure I don't know,” she finally replied.

  Moira smiled back awkwardly, but inside, she started to wonder. Had these been Tara’s chambers when she had lived at the castle? And why did the old servant’s answers make the hairs on the back of her neck prickle?

  Next came a large bathing room, with a hot pool enormous enough that she could have actually swum in it. A steamy waterfall at the far end helped the water circulate and not get too hot to soak in. The ceiling there was domed, and set with iridescent metal tiles like the scales of an exotic fish. She had to admit, it was beautiful. Brenn seemed determined to spoil her, or at least leave her very impressed. Or was it me that he had intended to impress? Were these rooms made for someone else instead of me?

  The final room looked like a sitting room, with several chairs and couches, walls lined with packed-full bookshelves, and a high-end commlink unit set into a low, tiled table. Moira stared at it a moment, trying to decide whether it would be safe to make a call to her mother and discuss things openly, or whether any communication that she made from the castle would be monitored.

  She turned to Telara. “These chambers really do seem to have belonged to someone before me. Can you tell me who these books and things belongs to?”

  The servant gave Moira another nervous, awkward smile. “Oh, really, dear, I'm not at liberty to say.”

  Moira hesitated, and then decided to push the issue. “I thought you said that you were here for a very long time?” This does not ring true at all. “Surely you knew who was living here…?”

  She looked around, seeming a little bit nervous, as if she was worried that someone might be eavesdropping on anything that she might tell Moira. “Well, these chambers did originally belong to the old Queen before she and her new husband passed away.”

  Moira frowned and pulled one of the books off the shelf, opening it. Aha, just as I thought. “But, these books are all in English.”

  Telara swallowed, suddenly looking nervous. Moving a bit closer, she said in a low tone, “I'm very sorry, Majesty. But there are certain subjects that the castle servants cannot discuss openly without being punished for them. I would tell you more if I could. But I can't.”

  “...Oh,” Moira's heart sank, and her stomach curdled with frustration. She was willing to bet that the old woman really did know something…but she was too afraid to talk. She had no idea how to get around that. Bribery? Alcohol? Blackmail? There had to be something. “Well, I didn't mean to upset you. I was just very curious. I thought that I was the first human in the palace.”

  Telara stared at her for a moment, and then moved up close to her and said very quietly, “No. You're not the first human who has been here. But that's all that I can say about it. I'm sorry about that.”

  “Don't worry about it.” But inside, Moira was seething. There were very few options that she had for gathering information here without being noticed. It seemed as if she was being prevented from exploiting the one most likely to provide her with results.

  Before she left, Telara turned around and said quietly, “The king will expect you to join him for supper in four hours. It's right across the hall. As for me, ring this chime if you need me.” She pointed at a diamond-shaped button set next to the door.

  Moira made a note of the time and nodded. “Thank you.”

  As soon as her servant had walked out the door, she hurried over to the commlink and sat down in front of it. She started poking at its buttons, attempting to get an outside contact line. But when she checked, the list of available services involved nothing outside the Temporan solar system. She scowled.

  What was this? What she expected to simply abandon contacting her mother? She had already told Brenn time and again that she was worried about leaving her behind and would want to check in with her!

  Okay. That is where I draw the line. If he freaks out and punishes me because I want to talk to my mom and let her know that I got here okay, he and I are going to have a serious problem. Moira set her jaw, determined to confront her new husband as soon as they were back together.

  She spent the next few hours wandering
the castle, trying to get the lay of the place in spite of the fact that there were no markings on any of the doors, and every corridor pretty much looked like the next. Now and again, she overheard someone talking and listened in on their conversations as best she could without being caught.

  Most of them were inconsequential: trade matters, what the servants were doing, palace gossips she couldn’t have given a damn about even if she cared about this world and its people. But she kept wandering, and kept listening, hoping that soon she would pick up on some information that she could actually use.

  She was about ready to give up and go back to her chambers when she caught two of the male guards chattering away about something that sounded familiar.

  “Do you think that this one will last longer than the last?” The first was younger, with a deep, raspy voice.

  She stopped dead before turning the corner where they could have seen her, and instead flattened herself against the wall, listening.

  The second one, an older man with a slight quaver in his tone, made a noncommittal noise. “Well, they do seem to get along much better. And I have to admit, I already find this Queen much more agreeable.”

  The first one snickered. “A rabid weasel-hawk would be more agreeable than the last one, though. At least if the rumors are any indication.”

  “No argument there. I was there for some of that mess. Let me tell you, you will rarely meet anyone in your life who is as selfish as that…woman...was. I genuinely felt sorry for the King when she was around.”

  “Wasn’t there some trouble involving the Queen’s Consort’s son that happened around the same time?” The younger one sounded almost as curious as Moira.

  The older one laughed. “It was all part of the same trouble, Dax. You’ve never seen such scandalous melodrama. Before I met this human I was convinced that all human women were manipulative and bloody heartless.”

  That certainly sounds like Tara, Morag thought feverishly. She had to fight the urge to rush around the corner and confront both men, demanding the truth. But she knew what would happen if she tried that. It would end up blowing her cover. She set her jaw and kept quiet, backing away so that she could duck into one of the nearby rooms if they checked around the corner.