Married to Krampus (My Holiday Tails)

by Marina Simcoe

  “I’m fine...” I mumbled, the nightmarish image of the Colonel’s brutal expression frozen in my mind. “I’ll be fine... Won’t I?”

  Chapter 2

  “ARE YOU READY, DAISY?” Nancy asked.

  We stood at the ship’s closed exit, surrounded by the rest of the Earth delegation, all of us waiting for the door to open.

  “Sure.” I nodded, watching a wide wall section of the ship open and slide down to form a ramp for us to exit.

  With sweaty palms, I smoothed the flared skirt of my white polka-dot dress and adjusted the red silk scarf I wore as a headband. I tightly squeezed the handles of the hard-shell, candy-apple-red purse where I kept my Grandma’s Christmas ornament.

  I’d had a hard time falling asleep last night after watching that video. When I woke up this morning, however, I was able to see things in a new light.

  Sending that video was the opposite of a romantic gesture. Obviously, the Colonel wasn’t expecting a romance and wanted to make sure I didn’t have any such expectations of him. That would also explain why he had not tried to contact me before and showed no interest in getting to know me better. He was looking for a nanny, not a girlfriend. My status of wife would be nothing more than a legality, something to circumvent the law since there was no interplanetary employment agreement between Voranians and humans yet.

  The long Marriage Contract that I’d signed covered every political and legal issue of my immigration to Voran, giving few provisions on the actual nature of our union or even my living conditions. It most definitely read like an employment contract.

  Adjusting my expectations had calmed me down somewhat. I’d gained a better understanding of my role in the Colonel’s household. The children would be my main and only focus, I’d decided. Thinking about meeting them warmed my heart.

  Despite his savage nature, the Colonel still could be a fair employer. I would look after his children for a year for him, learn the new culture, and have a fun interplanetary adventure. Maybe I’d make some new friends.

  The fact remained, I was about to disembark on a brand-new planet I’d never been to before. My excitement wouldn’t dissipate, no matter what.

  “The City of Voran is located in the Northern part of the country,” Nancy whispered into my ear as we walked down the ramp into a huge space under a glass dome. “The winter here lasts for nearly six months.”

  “I know,” I whispered back quickly. All this was in the information provided by the Committee. I’d studied it to the last letter. I also knew that summer here lasted just as long as the winter did, with fall and spring being merely a week each.

  The city was in the middle of winter right now. Yet I didn’t even need a sweater since the ship was connected to the glass dome. The gloomy winter sky stretched above us. However, the air under the glass felt warm. The ground was extensively landscaped with stone garden paths, neat green shrubs, and colorful plants.

  I inhaled the fragrant air, saturated with the smell of flowers and wet dirt. It was like landing in an indoor garden. The greenery appeared exceptionally pleasant to the eye after the cold-steel interior of the spaceship that brought me here.

  A group of Voranians, about a dozen of them, moved our way along a cobble-stone path. Several in their delegation wore the white-and-gold uniforms of the Liaison Committee, identical to the human representatives who had arrived with me. The rest were dressed in civilian clothes, and I gaped at all the colors and elaborate trim.

  In the few pictures of the every-day life in Voran that I’d gotten to see, the clothes definitely attracted attention. Women wore colourful, frilly dresses that reminded me of North American and European fashion in the nineteen fifties. Many Voranian men appeared to like wearing bright colours, too. The civilian suits the delegates wore were embroidered with vines and flowers. Some even had their horns painted with designs in the same colors as their outfits.

  A Voranian man dressed in the uniform of the Liaison Committee stepped forward.

  “Madam Kyradus, we are so happy to welcome you to the City of Voran,” he said.

  My translator implant instantly picked up the meaning of his words. However, it took me a moment to realize the man was talking to me as he addressed me by the Colonel’s name.

  “Nice to meet you.” I offered him my hand, and he took it with both of his, lowering his head in greeting. I leaned back to make room for his horns. “Please, call me Daisy.”

  The man blinked, staring at me in confusion.

  “I beg your pardon, but that would be against the protocol,” he muttered, obviously discomfited.

  “Oh...sorry.” Breaking local customs and protocols the moment I set foot on the ground had not been my intention. “Carry on then, please.”

  “Madam Kyradus,” the man continued, obviously relieved to use the appropriate moniker. “It’s a huge honor to welcome to Voran the spouse of the Leader of the Voranian Army.” He bowed again.

  I’d only learned recently that Colonel was the highest rank in the Voranian Army, above majors and generals. It had made my future employer that much more intimidating.

  “My name is Representative Alcus Hecear.” The official raised his head, meeting my gaze with his eyes, the color of lime-green. “I am the Head of the Liaison Committee of Voran.”

  “Very nice to meet you, Representative Hecear...” I repeated, unsure of what else to say. Meeting high officials of either planet was not something I did often.

  The Voranian smiled with another brief bow. He seemed friendly enough, as did the rest of the group. All of them were taller than an average human, their horns adding extra height. Alcus Hecear was clean shaven, but most of the others sported some kind of facial hair—from mustaches, to goatees, to voluminous sideburns, and full beards.

  As one of them turned sideways, I glimpsed a long tail with an honest-to-god arrowhead tip, just like a demon’s tail was often depicted. A shiver ran down my spine at the comparison.

  My gaze slid lower, to their feet. Round and shiny, they weren’t feet, but hooves.

  Hooves!

  I couldn’t recall if I’d ever seen a full picture of a Voranian from head to toe, but I certainly had no idea about the hooves. I couldn’t stop staring at them, now.

  Meeting Voranians in person proved to be a surreal experience.

  “...I trust your journey here was pleasant.”

  I realized Representative Hecear was still talking to me.

  “Oh yes, thank you,” I mumbled, trying hard not to stare at the Voranians in a way that would be rude, though I feared I’d gone past that point already. “The accommodation on the ship was very comfortable...”

  Alcus Hecear introduced each of the Voranians accompanying him. Forcing my gaze up, I made eye contact, politely nodding and smiling at each man as Representative Hecear announced their names and positions.

  I couldn’t help a glance at their horns, now and then. They sprouted from the sides of their foreheads, slightly curving back and rising about a foot and a half over their heads.

  “...Um,” I ventured once we’d completed the introductions. “Is Colonel Kyradus not here?” I’d expected him to come to meet me upon my landing, but his name hadn’t come up during the introductions.

  “The Colonel, unfortunately, is held up in a meeting with Governor Drustan, our Head of State,” Representative Hecear explained. “As the Leader of our Army, Colonel Kyradus has a lot of responsibilities—”

  “Where is she?” A deep voice thundered suddenly from somewhere, then a large Voranian male energetically stomped from around an intricately shaped shrub and headed toward us.

  I took a step back as he came closer. His intense energy seemed to roll ahead of him like a wave, filling in the entire space under the dome.

  “Oh, Colonel...” The Representative stumbled out of the newcomer’s way as he approached. “The Governor said—”

  “The Governor can go fuck himself and his ill-timed meetings.” The Colonel obviously held little re
gard for protocol. He stopped in front of me, giving me a once-over. “Is that her?”

  My face burnt as if caught on fire under the intense stare of his flaming red eyes. Judging by how impossibly hot my skin felt, I must look embarrassingly flushed right now. Painfully self-conscious under his scrutiny, I fidgeted with the handles of my purse.

  “Um...” I cleared my throat, scrambling for words. I couldn’t possibly introduce myself to him using his own name, could I? Screw the protocol. “I’m Daisy...” I said, staring back at him.

  Unable to look straight into his eerie eyes, I slid my gaze down his face. His beard was neatly trimmed, shorter than in the picture I had. From this distance, I also noticed that what I’d first thought were painted designs on one of his horns—turned out to be carvings. They wound up in a continuous spiral from the base of his right horn for about two-thirds of its length.

  I jerkily stretched my hand to him.

  Instead of shaking it the way Representative Hecear had done, the Colonel grabbed my hand in one of his.

  “Let’s go home.” He turned around, tugging me along.

  “Oh, Colonel... Sir!” The Representative trotted after us, the clicking of his shiny hooves echoing under the dome. “There are still some formalities left to do...”

  “What formalities?” The Colonel glared at him over his shoulder. “Did she get all her shots?”

  The question made me feel like a stray being adopted from an animal shelter. My mouth felt too dry for me to protest, however, or even to say anything at all.

  “Yes, but...”

  The human delegation had congregated closer to us, too.

  “Daisy, maybe you would like to spend tonight in our accommodations?” Nancy asked, with concern in her voice.

  “We can arrange for a proper ceremony tomorrow morning,” Louis, a male representative from Earth, added.

  “A ceremony?” The Colonel scowled, tossing him a glare. “What for?”

  I kept moving my gaze from him to Nancy then back again, feeling overwhelmed.

  “You had her on that ship for months,” the Colonel snarled at all of them. “That’s more than enough time for quarantine, shots, translator implant surgery or anything else you needed to subject her to.” He moved his burning gaze back to me. “As of now, she is mine.”

  “Mine.”

  The word sent a shiver down my body, only I couldn’t figure out whether it was from dread or thrill. No one had so blatantly claimed me before—in front of the delegations of two worlds, no less.

  The unapologetic possessiveness of the Colonel seemed too intense for an employer. And why would I find anything thrilling about his growls?

  “Daisy?” Nancy pinned me with a questioning stare.

  It appeared they expected me to make the call.

  The grip of the Colonel’s large, warm hand on mine tightened. He didn’t appear to be willing to give me up without a fight.

  A fight would definitely cause some interplanetary tension. Wouldn’t it? I was not a fan of any type of tension. The last thing I wanted would be to become the reason for conflict between the two worlds.

  “I’m fine,” I said brightly, eager to disperse the expectant silence hanging over us. “I’ll be fine,” I repeated the same thing I’d been telling myself since last night.

  “Your first follow-up interview with the Committee is a week from now,” Alcus Hecear reminded.

  I nodded silently.

  “Call me tomorrow morning.” Nancy lowered her head, casting a warning glance the Colonel’s way. “Or any other time you need to talk.”

  I nodded again before the Colonel whisked me away, dragging me to the exit.

  Surely, it would be safe to spend a night in the house of my potential husband? Or future employer?

  When did it all get so confusing again? It seemed so much clearer just this morning.

  Anyway, what was the worst that could happen?

  “VORAN IS A BEAUTIFUL city,” I said tentatively, sitting next to the Colonel in the two-person aircraft.

  He grunted something in response, indistinct to my ear or my translator implant.

  I clasped my hands tighter around the handles of the purse in my lap and stared straight ahead.

  My mind wasn’t really processing the sights of the cityscape that floated past the glass of the aircraft. As we flew above the tallest buildings, the view of the city wasn’t much different from what I’d seen in the pictures and videos of Voran—a sprawling cluster of tall buildings topped with rounded glass contraptions. From this distance, the city looked like rows and circles of block towers covered in soap bubbles.

  I stared at the view. However, my thoughts remained on my companion. An entire new world lay ahead of me, yet the Colonel had taken over my awareness.

  He’d masterfully maneuvered the aircraft out of the parking hangar at the spaceport facility and now was steering it toward his house. At least, I assumed that was where we were going. The Colonel had said nothing about our destination. In fact, ever since he’d dragged me out of the glass dome at the spaceport, he hadn’t said a word, replying to all my questions with monosyllables, grunts or nothing at all.

  Giving up on small talk for the time being, I slid my gaze sideways, to study the man whose home would be mine, at least for the next year.

  One hand on the control panel, the other placed casually on his thigh, his posture seemed relaxed. Obviously, the Colonel wasn’t sharing my feelings of awkward tension.

  I stared at his hand for a moment. Charcoal-gray fur covered his dark skin. Black claws tipped his fingers. The image of him tearing apart the living thing in the video flashed through my mind again. Thankfully, his claws were shorter and appeared blunt, as if they’d been filed down.

  Compared to the flamboyant clothes of the civilian Voranians I’d met at the spaceport, the Colonel’s gray uniform looked dull and modest. Its only embellishment was the ornate epaulettes on his wide shoulders and the red-and-gold trim on the sleeves and collar.

  After a few moments of the long, unnerving silence between us, I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “You must have talented artisans in Voran,” I said the first thing that entered my mind. “I love the exquisite clothes of Voranians.”

  I admired the elaborate needlework of the trim edging his sleeve. He followed my gaze, staring at his sleeve for a moment as if seeing it for the first time.

  “I guess so.” He shrugged.

  Well, that was finally a proper reply from him—three whole words.

  “Do you know if this was done by hand?” I continued, encouraged by his talking. “Or do you have machines that do this?”

  “The clothes?” He tossed an incredulous glance my way, looking genuinely shocked that I would ask him anything about textiles.

  “Well, the clothes and the trim...” I wished I could just shut up, but he made me nervous. The more out of balance I felt, the stronger my urge to blabber grew. “All of this. Who embroidered this?” I waved my hand over his arm.

  “I have no idea.” He frowned, raking his fingers through his beard. “Is it something you absolutely need to know?”

  “Oh no.” I shook my head. “It’s not important. I’m just curious.”

  “Why?” He stared at me.

  “Um...” Being put on the spot like that, I couldn’t come up with anything other than the truth. “You see, I’m just trying to make small talk here.”

  He grimaced as if I’d just fed him something sour.

  “Small talk?”

  “Right.” I exhaled a shuddered breath, feeling sweat gather in my armpits. Would he be able to smell it? Did Voranians have a sense of smell superior to humans? I couldn’t remember.

  “‘Small talk’ translates as ‘useless blather’,” he said, flatly. “Why would you waste any time on that?”

  “I don’t know...” I shifted uneasily. “Maybe, to break the ice? Talking helps people to get to know each other. Does it not?”

  Now,
he seemed genuinely confused.

  “How does learning about the clothes-making process in Voran help you get to know me better?”

  I heaved another long breath.

  “Well...”

  I had nothing.

  “I don’t know,” I gave up.

  “There must be some better suited questions,” he pressed on. “Why don’t you just ask me exactly what you want to know?”

  And now, I felt idiotic for even opening my mouth at all.

  “Okay, um...” I frantically searched my brain. Panic filled me since I couldn’t come up with one remotely intelligent thing to ask. Everything seemed either ill-timed or plain stupid.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t have questions. I had at least a million, but now none of them seemed smart or important enough. I was worried about his reaction. So far, he’d acted unimpressed or even severely annoyed by me, which made me even more self-conscious and, at the moment, less able to say anything at all.

  “Is there something you would like to ask about me? Maybe?” I said, hoping to change the topic.

  “No,” he replied confidently.

  “Nothing?” I blinked, unsure whether I felt surprised or offended, or both, by his complete and utter lack of interest. “Is that why you never contacted me at all? Because you didn’t care?”

  He shifted in his seat, rolling his shoulders back and stretching his neck.

  “The best way to get to know a person is to spend some time with them, in person. I got all the preliminary information I needed from your file.”

  “Oh, you’ve read my letter, then?” I asked, with renewed hope.

  I was actually really proud of the letter I’d written to accompany my application. It had turned out a bit long, about twelve pages in total. In it, I’d been able to express my hopes and dreams pretty accurately, I thought, as well as give the reader a fairly good idea about myself as a person.

  Could I have written it so well, that it left no room for any further questions?

  “No. I didn’t read the letter,” the Colonel replied.

  “You didn’t?” I breathed out, deflated.