Chapter Eighteen

The takeoff was surprisingly smooth after an initial shaking rumble that had Deb’s hands clutching the armrests nervously. As the ship climbed, more islands appeared on the view screen, scattered randomly across the waters. She watched in awe as they cleared the horizon and all of Sherae came into view below them. From this height she could see the seas covering almost the entire globe, with only a few specks of pink from the largest islands visible.

“It’s so beautiful.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Rast sounded almost surprised and she turned to find him studying it thoughtfully. For the first time it occurred to her that she didn’t know what would happen after they met with the Emperor.

“Will I be coming back?”

“Do you wish to return?”

“Yes.” She didn’t even need to think about it. If she couldn’t return home, she wanted to stay on this beautiful, peaceful planet. A planet where she seemed to have found her place. Marious had found a moment in their hurried departure to get her alone and beg her to return. Of course, he had also asked her to bring Rast back. But she had no power over him. A marriage of convenience didn’t give her the same right to influence her husband that a real wife would have. Her heart plummeted but she forced a smile and asked casually. “And you? Will you return?”

From the look he gave her, she suspected she might have been a little too casual. “I assure you, my Consort, that—”

An alarm sounded, and Deb jumped.

“Proximity alarm.” The green skinned woman spoke for the first time. During the take-off, she had been focused on her console, while the black-skinned woman murmured into her headset in a low humming voice which Deb found oddly hypnotic.

“Problem, Ultana?” Athtar asked, as calm as ever.

“No. There was an unannounced incoming ship. We’re clear. Kanithe, send a message to ground control about that ship. That kind of recklessness usually means trouble.”

“Trouble?” Rast and Deb spoke at the same time.

Ultana turned to look at them and shrugged. “In my experience. Captains that don’t obey basic safety precautions usually don’t care much about any other kind of regulations, either.”

Rast nodded. “Can we hail them? No visual on our end.”

Kanithe turned to her console and a face appeared on the viewing screen. Deb started to shake but managed to keep from crying out. The captain of the other ship was Derian, although no one she recognized. Rast reached for her hand, the warmth of his reassuring grip in strong contrast to his icy voice as he spoke. “Identify yourself.”

“Why should I tell you anything?” the man sneered.

“Because I am Prince Rastrath and Sherae belongs to me. Who are you?”

The man’s eyes flickered. “I work for Commander Thrull. He sent me to pick up his property.”

Deb’s bones turned to water at his words. She clung to Rast’s hand as hard as she could and curled the other arm over her stomach. He couldn’t have her baby. The words echoed over and over in her head until her panicked brain finally calmed enough to process Rast’s response.

“He has no property here.”

“He said he’ll return the bitch after the child is born. He just wants the child.”

Rage covered Rast’s face, but his voice remained calm and icy. “There is no child of his, either. His former property is now my Consort. Her child is now my child.”

“What the fuck? You can’t do that.”

“I not only can, I already have. Now leave. Return to your master and inform him that he has no business here, now or ever.”

“He ain’t gonna like it.”

“I have no interest whatsoever in what he likes. I hope to have the pleasure of informing him of that in person at a future date.” Rast’s voice was deadly and Deb shivered. No matter what, she didn’t want him anywhere near Master.

The screen went blank, but they all sat silently. After a long minute, the green skinned woman spoke. “He’s leaving.”

Deb sagged in her chair, and then burst into tears. She’d barely finished the first sob when Rast was there, picking her up and cradling her in his arms as she sat back down.

“Don't let him take me.”

“He’ll never lay a finger on you again,” Rast promised. “You heard what I said. Now he knows he has no claim.”

“But what if he doesn’t believe you? He already sent a ship after me. I don’t understand why he’s so determined to take my child.” Her voice was an anguished cry and she saw Rast and Athtar exchange looks.

“Does he have any other children?” Rast asked gently.

The question startled her enough to penetrate her misery. She forced herself to remember. “I don’t know. I never saw any children, even from the other slaves, but I wasn’t allowed out very often. Why?”

“Even an evil bastard like that might want an heir.”

“I don’t care. He can’t have my baby. And you said you wanted to meet him. You can’t do that. I can’t let you be hurt because of me.” Her hands clutched at him, trying to make him understand.

“Ssh, sweetheart.” He held her close, murmuring softly, until she calmed. When she finally stopped crying, he lifted her chin with one finger and kissed her so sweetly that she almost started again. “That’s better.”

Deb gave him a shaky smile and was about to bury her head in his neck when she remembered their audience. She snuck a quick peek and saw that Athtar looked murderous, Kanithe had her head bowed, and Ultana was frowning. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart,” Rast said firmly.

“Indeed not. Don’t worry, Consort. We will not let anything happen to you.” Ultana said seriously, and Athtar nodded emphatically. Kanithe raised her head and gave her a small smile.

“Thank you.” She smiled back at all of them, a little overwhelmed by the show of support after having been alone for so long.

“What’s going on up here?” a deep voice rumbled. She turned to see who had entered and squeaked. A gargoyle stood in the doorway, huge, grey skinned, and complete with a bald head, pointed ears, a massive set of tusks, and an even more massive set of wings.

“Grabon, good to see you again,” Rast said. The gargoyle fixed bright green eyes on him and gave a very emphatic sniff.

“I see the little prince is back. Are you pretending to work on this trip?”

“Nope,” Rast said easily. “I’m paying for it so I’m just going to sit back and enjoy the ride. Of course, if you aren’t too busy protecting the ship from all of your invisible enemies, we could do a little training.”

The man scowled, looking even more terrifying. “Anytime, little prince. Anytime.”

“Grabon is head of security,” Rast told her. “He fancies himself a fighter but he’s too big to be much competition.”

A frightening grin split Grabon’s face and Deb suddenly realized that they were teasing each other, just like her brothers would have done. The man’s gaze dropped to her and her stomach and softened to an amazing degree. “Did you bring me a patient?”

“He’s also the medic,” Rast added. “I hope not, Grabon. Dr. Mako says she’s in fine health, but she needs to rest and eat properly. He did send her records along. I’ll send them to you.”

“Eat? Did someone say food?” Another figure pushed impatiently at Grabon. “Out of the way, you big bird.” He managed to slip past Grabon and enter the bridge. Her ability to be shocked must have worn off because she barely blinked when she realized he had four arms, four eyes, and was covered in green scales. The newcomer ignored Rast, focusing directly on her and giving her what she had to admit was an exceptionally charming smile. “Well, hello there, pretty lady.”

“Drop it, Studoc.” Rast growled. “She’s mine.”

“Of course, she is. But I can admire from afar, can’t I?” He closed two of his eyes in an outrageous wink and she had to bite back a laugh.

“From very far away.” Rast turned back to her. “Studoc pretends to be a mechanic whenever he isn’t seducing starving women into giving him their last speck of food.”

“I’m deeply hurt,” Studoc protested. “I would always leave the last speck.” He swept Rast a bow and everyone laughed, even the huge man still standing in the doorway giving a snort. She looked around at the grinning faces, remembering how easily Rast had slipped into their banter, and realized that this was his real family, the one he’d never had during his royal upbringing. And they were accepting her into it as well, as surely as if she were truly his bride. Warmth filled the hole that had been there since she had been taken from her family and she relaxed back against Rast with a contented sigh.

For some reason she didn’t quite understand, despite Studoc’s attempts to explain it to her, most journeys around the area of the galaxy controlled by the empire took five to ten days. This one was on the shorter side and six days after they boarded, they were in orbit around Kaisar. It dominated the view screen as they waited while the ship was scanned, and they were given permission to land. She had enjoyed the journey immensely, and had spent time with everyone on board, although Rast accompanied her more often than not. There were two additional crew members she hadn’t met the first night—Thynmirr, a small, blue furred alien who was training with Studoc, and Birgraz, a red scaled alien who worked with Grabon. He, too, was rather large and intimidating but he was so obviously respectful and shy in her presence that she never found him frightening.

Despite what she had thought was a jest, Rast had been serious about training with Grabon and the two met each day to spend an hour or so in various types of combat. After her initial fright at the speed and violence with which they moved, she enjoyed watching them—so much so that a training session was almost inevitably followed by a much less violent and even more enjoyable session in their cabin.

She also enjoyed sitting with Studoc while he tinkered with one of hundreds of pieces of equipment and gave lessons to Thynmirr. He liked telling her tall tales of the hundreds of planets he’d visited. Rast was less enthusiastic about those visits, although she didn’t think for a moment that Studoc was anything other than an errant flirt, but Rast’s possessiveness also resulted in some extremely hot cabin time.

Perhaps because of those cabin times, her breasts continued to leak at inopportune moments and she finally screwed up the courage to approach Grabon. To her relief, he didn't make her feel uncomfortable but listened to her with the same calm, professional air that Dr. Mako possessed.

“I could give you something to stop the flow,” he suggested.

Rast, who of course had insisted on accompanying her, made a smothered sound of protest and she had to fight back a grin. He had made it quite clear how much he enjoyed sucking on her breasts and she enjoyed it just as much. But when she looked at him now, he only sighed. “It is your decision, sweetheart. I don't want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Could the pills affect my ability to nurse once the baby is born?”

“They shouldn’t but human anatomy is new to us.”

“Then I don’t want to take the risk.”

“Hmm.” Grabon considered for a moment, then dug into a drawer, emerging with a box of small pads and a roll of something that looked suspiciously like duct tape. “These are designed for wounds, but they should work. They’re highly absorbent and the tape will not damage your skin.”

His solution had worked, and she was wearing her bandages now, beneath the fanciest dress she had ever worn. “Are you sure you want me to wear this?” she whispered again to Rast.

“Of course. It is attire fitting for my consort.” He was using his princely tone, but then he dropped it and grinned at her. “Besides, we match.”

He’d bitched a lot while putting it on, but she privately thought he looked magnificent in a tight-fitting black tunic, shot through with gold threads that caught the light when he moved and accented his well-defined muscles. A heavily embroidered and jewel encrusted belt accented his slim waist and there was even a cape, fastened on one shoulder with a jeweled brooch as big as her palm.

“When did you have this made for me?” she asked, stroking the matching fabric that made up her gown.

An uncomfortable look crossed his face. “Just before the opening of Parliament, when I had those outfits made. It occurred to me that something might happen where I might be forced to claim the crown. If I did, I wanted you at my side, just like I did at the opening.”

Tears sprang to her eyes, his actions even more convincing than his words. “Dammit, Rast, why do you have to be so sweet?”

“Because you deserve sweetness, my Consort. I would do anything to give you the happiness you deserve. I—”

Athtar banged on their door. “Permission granted. We’re descending now if your lady wants to watch.”

Damn Athtar and his interruptions. What had Rast been about to say? She thought—she hoped—that maybe he was about to say that he loved her. Neither of them had said it yet but it hovered on her own tongue many times over the course of the journey. She couldn’t even be sure exactly when she had admitted it to herself, but she suspected that she had started falling in love with him on the very first day when he stopped and held her hair while she was ill. Not perhaps the most romantic moment, but his kindness then had started thawing the ice in which she had wrapped herself.

Seeing him on this trip, relaxed and happy, and spending almost all of their time together had been the final step, the knowledge not sweeping over her like a tidal wave but creeping in during unguarded moments—watching him drop Grabon to the mat, then laugh and help him up; when he curled protectively around her in his sleep, his hand warm on her stomach; the pain in his face during the infrequent times he mentioned his mother. Now it felt like she had always loved him, but she still hadn’t had the courage to tell him. She knew he cared for her, but she couldn’t help but wonder if it was really love, or just the protectiveness of an innately chivalrous man mixed with his undeniable desire for her body.

“Worried, sweetheart?” Rast asked softly, and she realized she’d been staring at the floor while she argued with herself.

“No, my prince. Not as long as you are at my side.”

“Then shall we proceed to the bridge?” He bowed and offered her his arm with a courtly gesture but spoiled the gallantry with a wink.

“You look like Studoc when you do that,” she teased, knowing that his eyes would turn the dark blue of a stormy sea.

“I do not.”

“Now you’re pouting like him, too.” Laying her hand on his arm, she tugged him gently toward the door.