Chapter Twelve

One week later, Rastrath regarded himself in the mirror and wondered what had happened to his plan to spend a few quiet weeks on a secluded planet while he waited for news from Athtar. Now he was dressed in Sheraen ceremonial robes, about to attend the opening of Parliament. Because of Deb assisting Marious with palace affairs, he heard many of the details each evening and, just as with the export negotiations, he found himself becoming at first interested, then involved. A lifetime of Imperial politics left him well equipped to understand the far more restrained maneuvering that comprised Sheraen politics.

At least the robes were comfortable, a far cry from Kaisarian ceremonial garments. Flowing blue silk pants were topped with a matching sleeveless robe, darker blue embroidery edging all of the hems. The only additional adornments were a heavily embroidered belt and an elaborate chain. He had refused the crown.

“You look amazing,” Deb said from behind him. He turned to see her eying him appreciatively, but his own gaze was just as admiring.

“As do you, sweetheart.” Her gown was an even paler blue, gathered beneath her increasing bountiful breasts with an embroidered belt before flowing over the burgeoning swell of her stomach. She looked ripe and luscious, glowing with health.

“Thank you. Although I still don’t think I should be accompanying you.”

“I do,” he said firmly. It was one of the two conditions he had put on attending. The other that he was there in his capacity as a prince of the Royal House, not as King of Sherae. He gave her what she called his demon smile. The word didn’t translate but he suspected it was not entirely flattering. “Besides, you got me into this, you can suffer through it as well.”

“But I’m your slave.”

“You’re not—” He shook his head. “I want you there and you’re coming.”

She gave him the shy smile that was appearing more and more frequently these days. Since the night when she came to him, she seemed more content. The doctor’s diet was working, although she still had episodes of weakness and nausea. Rastrath had told Marious in no uncertain terms to watch out for any signs that she was not feeling well and to make sure that she was comfortable. His steward had rather indignantly assured him that he would never let any harm come to Mistress Debra.

Another extremely pleasant side effect of the improved diet was that not only had her face lost that fragile quality, but her body had filled out as well, already abundant breasts becoming ripe and overflowing in his hands. The experience of sinking into all that lush warmth kept getting better. But almost as much as he enjoyed sinking into the wet heat of her delectable cunt, he enjoyed holding her, her child cradled between them as he moved to his own rhythms. He found himself beginning to hope that Athtar’s investigation took longer than expected so that he could stay here with her and meet the child who pressed so insistently against him each night.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” He held out his hand.

“Shouldn’t I walk behind you?”

“No. I want you at my side.” For as long as possible.

Deb sank back in the chair with a sigh of relief. The opening of Parliament had been interesting —for the first hour. After that, the speeches and the pageantry became a blur and she had to fight to keep her eyes open and a smile on her face. None of it seemed to bother Rast, but she supposed he was used to such things. For all his reluctance to get involved, he was a natural leader and she could see that both he and the Sheraens were becoming more comfortable with each other. Fortunately, when they finally took a break, he took one look at her and sent her back to their rooms with a kiss and an apology.

Now, her fingers traced her mouth reminiscently. He was so sweet to her, she almost didn’t mind being a slave. Whoa. Where had that thought come from? No matter how kind he was, no matter how much he pleasured her body, she couldn’t live the rest of her life as a slave. More importantly, neither could her son. As if in response, the baby kicked, and she patted her stomach soothingly. Rastrath had promised that she could work off her debt by the time he left, and she was determined to do so. In truth, it wasn’t a hardship. He was an amazing lover, demanding but never cruel, and he seemed to delight in making her come as much as he enjoyed his own orgasms.

“Mistress, Prince Rastrath sent me to bring you some tea and to see if you need assistance removing the gown.” T’lik appeared as silently as usual, a silver tray perched on her lower arms.

“Thank you, T’lik.” The Scraak female had become her regular attendant and she enjoyed the company of the shy servant. “I must admit, I’m not as flexible as I used to be.”

With only a slight struggle, she rose to her feet and accompanied T’lik to her room. More like her wardrobe, she thought, since all she did here was store her clothes. Rast wanted her with him every night and even if she napped during the day, he preferred that she do it in his bed. Perhaps she should consider turning it into a nursery…No, that was a ridiculous thought. Once Rastrath left, she would no doubt have to find something small and affordable.

Affordable. The thought stopped her in her tracks. She had been so focused on the idea of freedom that she hadn’t really considered the practicalities. If he left before she gave birth, who would hire an extremely pregnant human female? Would Marious still want her assistance? She thought he appreciated her but what if he was only working with her because of Rastrath? For the first time, she considered what her life would become, and a wave of dizziness swept over her. T’lik was there immediately to support her and help her to a chair.

“What’s wrong, mistress?”

“I’m just dizzy. I…” A thought hit her as she studied the other woman. T’lik would soon be in the same position. What if they pooled their resources? “Are you planning on staying here once you are freed?”

“Oh, yes, mistress. If I leave, I’m afraid I would be enslaved again.”

“Don’t you want to go home?”

“No. I have the ability to lay eggs, so I would be forced to do so.”

“You’re a queen?” Deb stared at her in shock. She had heard enough during her time with Master B’tal to know that a queen was a valued part of their society. “How did they ever let you go?”

“My Hive had two queens already and they did not want any more competition. I was sold as soon as I reached sexual maturity and it became apparent that I could breed.” Her mandibles clicked softly. “Of course, I was sad to leave my Hivemates, but I am happy not to become a breeder. And very happy to have ended up on Sherae.”

“Yes, of course.” Deb shook off her surprise and returned to her idea. “Well, I was just wondering, since we’ll be both be free soon, if you would consider sharing a home with me?”

“Only if you want to, of course,” she rushed on when T’lik didn’t respond immediately. “And I know I’ll have the baby, but I promise I’ll get a job as soon as possible and do everything I can do help out. But if you don’t want to, that’s fine.”

“Mistress, I would be honored to share a home with you and your child but that will not be possible for several years.”

Deb frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

“I have another four years left on my contract.”

“Four years?” she repeated, sure that she must have misunderstood.

“Yes. I am fortunate that my purchase price was low so that I could pay it off so quickly.”

“Do you mind telling me how much?”

T’lik named an amount that made Deb shudder.

“I don’t understand. Prince Rastrath told me that I could work off my debt before he left, and I didn’t think he was staying very long.” A knowledge that had previously troubled her but was now making her angry. Was he just playing some twisted game? Tell the slave lies to keep her compliant while he fucked her, and then disappear off into the galaxy leaving her behind, as trapped as she’d ever been.

T’lik’s mandibles clicked rapidly, a sign of her increasing agitation. “I didn’t mean to upset you, mistress. Master Marious told us that you were to be treated with the utmost respect.”

“I’m not upset with you, T’lik. I need to speak to Prince Rastrath immediately.” She started to struggle to her feet, but T’lik put a hand on her arm.

“He will be with Parliament.”

“Damn. You’re right; I wasn’t thinking.” Unable to vent her frustration, she sighed. “Just help me off with this ridiculous outfit.”

The pleasure she had taken in the gorgeous clothes was gone. Instead, she felt like a live Barbie doll, dressed up for her owner’s amusement. T’lik silently helped her change but her mandibles still waved anxiously. As soon as she was finished, Deb sent her off with the pleasantest smile she could manage. Too restless to settle down, she walked out to the balcony and started pacing.

The weather mirrored her agitation. The usually gentle sea breeze increased until it was swirling around. Just as a sudden gust flung two cushions across the balcony, several servants rushed out.

“Excuse me, mistress. A storm is approaching. We need to secure the rooms.”

“What can I do to help?”

“If you could just come inside.” He cast an anxious look out across the sea. For the first time since Deb arrived, she could see whitecaps breaking across the water, the calm turquoise turning a turbulent dark green. Clouds scurried across the sky and even as she watched, she caught a flicker of lightning. Her pulse rate increased; she hated storms ever since she was a little girl. Gladly moving inside, she watched as the men moved rapidly but efficiently around the balcony. All of the smaller, loose items were brought inside, and all of the larger furniture tied down. Once they were through with the balcony, they turned to the rest of the rooms.

The shutters were closed for the first time, blocking out the usual flow of light and air. As they were closed, the room lights came on, bathing everything in a soft glow. It should have felt like a typical evening, but without the fresh air and the view of the ocean, it felt stifling instead. No matter how large and spacious the rooms, she felt trapped. Trying to distract herself, she went to Rastrath’s library but even the garden shutters had been closed. Marious had been teaching her a few words of the Sheraen written language, but nowhere near enough to enable her to read any of the books.

Instead, she ended up wandering aimlessly from room to room, anger and hurt vying for dominance while the baby twisted and turned, as restless as she. Memories taunted her with every step. All of his seeming kindness now felt manipulative instead. She was staring at the bed she shared with Rastrath when he finally returned.