The sound of my rumbling stomach filled the silent compartment of my transport. The noise reminded Ingendia and me that neither of us had remembered to attend to my meals that day. For me, the lapse in attention is acceptable, even expected. After all, a warrior more concerned with his belly than his blade wasn't worth the title. Or so the old saying went.

Ingendia's wide azure eyes told a different story. She bowed her head so deeply that her long, midnight black braid tumbled from her shoulder into her lap. "I have failed you, Kai’ben."

The formal phrase she always used when she thought she had disappointed me. The words were ancient for her, a legacy of her father and her fathers' fathers. Every person who shared her blood had devoted their life to service, some to my family. They were a part of her. I had no use for them or anything like them.

I waved a hand and turned back to the window. In truth, I had other matters on my mind more serious than a couple of missed meals.

She continued reciting her words as if she didn't hear me. "Speak the words that will return me to your favor, Kai’ben, and I will make them truth."

Ingendia tilted her neck back and looked at me from the corner of her eye. She held the same deep contempt for these displays of tradition as I did, but as a servant, she could not afford to ignore them. Awful things happened to maids who forgot their place with their masters.

I leaned deeper into the seat back and turned to the window again. She would stay in that position all night if I let her.

"We've had other matters to worry about these last few days," I said. "You can see to both of our meals when we get home."

"All three, Kai’ben," Ingendia said as she rose with a straight back to return to her place beside me. "You forgot your new bride."

A gust of air left my lips before I could suppress the urge. A bride was technically accurate, yet far too strong a word for what I had in mind. It was a title, and like any other among our people, it came with a unique set of duties, responsibilities, and debts. The title husband carried twice as many. No one in his right might would willingly sign up for such madness.

So, of course, our entry into chaos was mandatory for continued good standing in society. It was my turn, but nothing said I had to play the rules to the letter.

"You're assuming I'll find a suitable woman among Carzon's stock. That's far from guaranteed." I realized as the words left my lips that I hoped they were overly pessimistic.

Carzon's auction house wasn't the only such establishment in the capital city. It was far from the only one on our world. But it had a reputation for high-quality human women and discretion, which made it not only the best but the most popular. It could take months to get an auction appointment. Months in which the status of my entire family would be in jeopardy.

No, I had to make a purchase that night. The realization burned in my gut. I clasped my hand into a fist, feeling the tension move up my arm.

Ingendia glanced at me. When we were children, she would have reached for my hand and opened it again. As a grown woman, as my slave, she didn’t dare. Instead, she took a tumbler of ice whisky from the small bar recessed into the side panels of the pod and poured a single shot into a tumbler.

"She will be there, Kai’ben,” she said as she slid the tumbler into my open hand.

The communication display imbedded in the partition between my seat and the driver's flashed. Ingendia leaned forward to read it, sparing me from another round of her apologies.

I didn't bother to answer the call. The traditional hour for invitations had passed hours ago. Only one person on the planet would call a warrior during the dinner hour.

"Your mother, Kai’ben," Ingendia whispered. Not out of reverence, but something more like reluctance. More than once in recent days, my mother had sent messages through her that no maid should ever repeat to her master.

"What does she want?" I didn't care, but honor and duty dictated that I ask. My mother, a veteran of Xicret social politics, knew this better than anyone. She always wielded that weapon too liberally for my tastes.

"She asks that you reconsider your plans for the evening." As the words left her lips, Ingendia pressed a button on the console, plunging the screen into darkness. Her eyes tightened as she leaned against the back cushion.

I leaned my head back against the cushions and grunted. Both of my parents had made it clear that they expected me to find a mate before the year was out. Most mothers would have just been happy their eldest child was finally doing something to move the family line forward.

“Should I send her a response, Kai’ben?”

“No. She would only try to talk me out of it again on the return message. Don’t tell her anything until after I’ve made a purchase.”

There was nothing scandalous about finding a mate at Carzon’s auction house. But my mother insisted that it was somehow unseemly. How could using the services of our leader bring shame?

Ingendia and I grew up together. She and I were both born in my father's house. But she was born into service, while I was born the son of a warrior. I knew her expressions as well as my own. More than well enough to know when she was holding her tongue.

If we had been born of equal standing, Ingendia might have tried to talk me out of it herself. Our women held a deep-rooted distaste for the auction house which I'd never understood. It's not as if the human women in Carzon's stock posed a great threat to Xicret women.

The humans had no status to gift a child, no public face on which to rely or use to increase their position. But to the women, it didn't seem to matter. They were beautiful, in a way. Exotic, and with half the fuss of a typical Xicret partnership arrangement. Too many advantages for strange pale creatures from another world.

"You may as well speak," I said.

"It wouldn't be proper, Kai’ben." Her voice hitched as she looked out her window, a small sign that gave her impatience away.

"I can't have you casting nasty glances at the woman I bring back, so get it out of your system now."

“One of our own kind—”

“Would be more interested in my family than in seeing to my needs,” I said. “And likely, far more used than any human I’ll find at Carzon’s.”

Ingendia snorted softly. "I've seen their women in the market, you know. All skin and bones, no strength or muscle to speak of. Weak backs. No fire in a single one of them. “

"I'm told that once they're in your bed, there is little difference." But the path to my bed would be much smoother with a human woman. More so with one provided by Carzon.

"Which does not bode well for you," she said. "You'll be bored with her before the moon rises again."

"I'm told they can be very imaginative when they want to be."

“Maybe, but I know you, Kai’ben. You could never fall in love with one of them.”

Ingendia looked back at me, holding my gaze for a few minutes before shaking her head. "You don't care.”

"Not in the least." I held her gaze, reminding her of her place without saying a word. The fiery spirit of our kind flared in her eyes for a moment, then cooled as she looked away.

Sometimes, I wondered if one of Ingendia's ancestors was a fallen warrior.

An instinct came over me to reach for her, to offer her some physical display of comfort. I suppressed it. “You know, some masters might think you’re jealous that you can’t be my mate.”

“None of them have known you as long as I have.”

A burst of laughter erupted from my chest before I could stop it. Ingendia had no interest in being my mate, a fact which I didn’t need her to tell me. But she never hid the fact that she hoped I’d find a mate worthy of my bloodline. Interfering was unbefitting behavior for a maid. Withholding advice was unbefitting of a friend.

The transport pulled over. Ingendia pushed a button on the console, the light from the digital screen casting a shadow over her scowl. She wouldn't bring the subject up to me again.

It didn't give me any pleasure to scold Ingendia. Most Xicret maids in her position would long since have sought other employment. It was hard to increase your social standing when your master was on the verge of losing his.

Two women stood on either side of Carzon's auction house. The other buildings in the district favored traditional architecture, with its wideset structure and rounded corners. The auction house, however, was a new construction, and Carzon spared no expense in its design. According to the sales pitch, the boxy silver structure was designed to resemble buildings on the human home world.

Why the humans liked their buildings tall for an enemy to ram a ship into, I didn't know. But I wasn't there to appreciate design.

Two unaccompanied men waited in the hallway beyond the door. The younger of the two, Farran, was the first soldier in a family of merchants. Some years before, his father had made a series of bad investments that affected the quality of his stock.

Though Farran didn't follow his father into the sales trade, ineptitude anywhere in a bloodline rendered the entire family suspect. The scandal must have burned deeper than I realized for Farran's father to pass up the opportunity to lock up a business arrangement via partnership.

The older man, Harran, was a warrior, but his bloodline had never progressed beyond civil peace enforcement. The bronze emblem on his robe pin hadn't been shined in years. There had been no honor ceremonies for his family. No days of celebration. Harran nodded to me, pressing a hand to his weapon and a fist to his chest.

As warriors, both men had better resources than some Xicret, but not as much as I did. Outbidding them would only be a problem if they joined forces. Only Farran would be clever enough to suggest it, but a merchant's son would be shrewd enough to double-cross his partner. He and I stood a good chance of leaving with a woman.

Ingendia released a breath, as if the presence of a warrior older than me in the same situation made my sordid method of finding a mate more acceptable. But I could see the discomfort in Harran’s eyes as they moved from Ingendia to the bronze medallion which held my robes in place. He didn't have a prayer of outbidding me, which pushed his odds of successfully finding a mate at the auction out of his favor.

Another set of double doors at the end of the hallway flung open. Farran’s body jerked slightly, a motion which he tried to pass off as a yawn. Too late. Carzon smiled as he approached us, flanked on either side by two human women, spreading his hands in welcome.

"Welcome to auction night," he said. Of the four men in the room, he and I alone stood with relaxed shoulders and easy postures. But Carzon had decked himself out in his finest robes and best pins, far better than a man of my status could afford. As befitting the man who had scrapped, fought, and slaughtered his way to leading us.