Clara

The tunnel we go through isn’t as ornate as the one for House Ti'ana. In comparison it's plain. The gray stone has the prerequisite embedded intermittent bright flood lights, but that's where the similarity ends. After witnessing the swarm of devos firsthand, I have a new respect and appreciation for those lights and for the border walls with their sturdy construction.

I never want to come face to face with those things again. As we cross through the tunnel and come out onto the flat plane, I turn forward to take in House Do'ana. The border wall is just as plain as I would have guessed, judging by the tunnel. Solid looking, made of the same gray stone, and lined with the same no nonsense rectangular lights used in the tunnel. It's a lot less eye-catching than the one for House Ti'ana. And looks a lot more practical. Practicality is something I can always get behind.

Actually, what I've seen so far matches Drevakin's sturdy and to the point appearance a lot more than the ornate, decorativeness of a Major House. I glance over at Drevakin and then at House Do'ana again. At least, I'm assuming it is.

"This is it?" I ask to make sure.

He nods, his eyes watchful as he scans the area. "House Do'ana," he confirms. "Elorshin is a close friend, but more, he is a man of honor. I know he will do what he thinks is right." He sighs, looking over at me. "Though I wish I was not involving him in something so dangerous."

Nodding my understanding, I turn back to watch the approaching wall. I wouldn't want to get someone I cared about involved in this mess either.

"We can always leave and take our chances," I offer.

He shakes his head. "Perhaps if I was alone. But this is the best of our options at the moment." He scans the wall from this distance. "Pull your hood up. And keep your head down. You will draw more attention than I will."

I don't argue, raising the hood up and then pulling it down over my face as far as I can to obscure it. The farther away we traveled from House Ti'ana, the colder it became. Until my t-shirt and jeans felt like they weren't doing anything at all. Luckily, when we rummaged around in the carriage, we found a fur-lined cloak that Drevakin insisted I wear, even though he left his behind for the swarm. When I offered to at least share, he shook his head.

"I must be able to move fast if necessary," he replied.

I settled for sitting pressed up against him, sharing body heat.

As we draw closer to the border wall, I keep my head down, hoping the shadow from the hood will keep my face hidden. My skin tone stands out too much.

"Say nothing. Your accent will give you away," he murmurs softly, for my ears only.

I nod, tucking my hands under the cloak as well to hide them. The familiar cacophony of a bustling marketplace reaches us as we pass through the intimidating gates. I resist the urge to raise my head and look around, having to make do with what I can see in the limited field of vision from this angle. It's enough for me to pick out differences from what I've seen at House Ti'ana.

The first thing I notice is that everyone dresses similar to Drevakin, in grays, browns, whites, and blacks. All neutral colors, rather than the bright colored fabrics favored by the Major House. The clothing itself is a lot heavier too, built with thicker materials, layered and lined. Which makes sense considering the drastic temperature change.

The women's dresses hang stiffer due to the heavier cloth, with sleeves that reach their wrists and necklines that come up all the way to their throats. Their boots look sturdy rather than decorative, unlike a lot of the slippers and sandals I've seen and worn since I've been here.

Overall, the effect is one of practicality and durability. I appreciate that, but there’s still no women in pants, unfortunately. I pull the cloak over to cover my jeans. No way am I only going to wear dresses for the rest of my life, but now isn't the time to draw more attention. I refocus on everything around me.

It's not just the clothing that's different. The food smells different, a lot less spicy and more hardy, maybe. It's reminding me of soups and stews, potatoes. My stomach growls in response. The cold is already making me crave something warm and filling, so those scents are damn tempting.

I inch my hood up at the side with a finger to get a better look at the stalls we're passing. The quick glimpses I get of them show a marked change in wares. As I expected, there are plenty of large, bubbling pots with people lined up to buy steaming bowls of what's cooking. There are also clothing stalls selling heavy cloaks, trousers, and dresses.

What there isn’t is a lot of the decorative items like ribbons, scarves, pretty nick knacks, and other luxury goods like a lot of the stalls in House Ti'ana's marketplace. Instead, there’s a stall with basic pots and pans, another with different knives with plain handles, and another with leather goods that look to be high quality but without the frills and whistles.

I keep coming back to the same word, practical. I glance over at Drevakin in his rugged leathers and scarred boots. He looks like he belongs here a lot more. Though he still doesn't completely blend in here either. I don't think he could blend in anywhere.

As I turn my head back down to cover my face again, I catch an onlooker's eye. He frowns as he slows, craning his neck to get a better look. I pull my hood down lower and turn away quickly.

Good move there Clara. Curiosity has always been my downfall. I relax a little when no one calls out about the stranger in the carriage.

As I continue to look around more carefully, I also notice that there’s a lot more laughter. The few children that are present are running around and having fun rather than politely following along behind their parents, dressed in perfect clothing like miniature adults.

No, these kids dress in clothes just as beaten as the ones I remember having. Holes in the knees, dirt, stains. Still, they're clearly well taken care of, with happy, open faces glowing with health. However, there aren't any more children here than there were at House Ti'ana. Reading about the widespread fertility issue is a lot different from seeing the reality of it. And while there are obvious socioeconomic differences between the Major and Minor Houses, this is one problem that doesn't discriminate.

I never realized how much I took children for granted. At restaurants, grocery stores, basically anywhere public. Now that there are so few of them around, every one draws my attention. And I'm not the only one.

Rather than getting angry or irritated with the laughing and shouting from the children, the onlookers watch with indulgent and wistful expressions.

An older woman hands a small child hovering in front of her stall a tiny bell, her face creasing with her smile as the child takes it with wide eyes. He laughs as he shakes his chubby hand and listens to the noise it makes.

My heart breaks as I realize many of these people who long for children cannot have them. The thought is sobering.

As we reach the less crowded end of the marketplace, I take the risk of raising my head a little so I can look at the buildings. Unlike the structures in House Ti'ana, there isn't a lot of variation in the architecture and coloring. They're a uniform gray, built along good clean lines, with actual windows and shutters instead of the latticework more popular in the hotter climate of the Major Houses.

Paths and alleyways are narrower. The streets are rougher, everything built for functionality. Looking around, the differences are plain. The Alvan class system is damn clear and undeniable. And I have to say, it chafes at me. Although it isn't like America doesn't have a class system. Maybe I'm just accustomed to having it covered with the veneer of possible economic mobility.

It doesn't take us long to get to the House Mansion. When we arrive in the courtyard, there’s differences here too, though that's no surprise at this point. The courtyard itself is smaller, but the main difference is the House Mansion itself. Rather than a palace, I would describe it as a fortress.

Made of the same gray stone, it’s large, the towers peppered with narrow windows that look strategically placed. The door isn't painted in a loud palette of colors either. Rather, it's made of some kind of wood like material that looks like it could withstand a good pounding.

There are fewer servants hanging around in the courtyard than I've gotten used to, but their reception is completely different. One of them trots over to us, a smile on his thin face.

"Can I help you?" he asks, looking at Drevakin with a slight frown, like he should know him.

"Yes, please," Drevakin replies with a smile. "Can you please inform Prince Elorshin that Drev is here to see him?"

The servant's smile widens a little as his face clears.

"Of course! Please, come inside! I will go inform Prince Elorshin at once!"

Drevakin murmurs his thanks and hops down from the carriage before coming around to help me down. The servant tilts his head, trying to get a better look, but Drevakin steps in front and distracts him with pleasantries. I try to maintain my low-profile as I follow Drevakin and the servant inside, keeping my head down. At least I can see the ground and where I'm going.

The servant leads into a nice sitting room, the colors in here also neutral and muted, but the furniture comfortable and overstuffed. I appreciate the soft cushion after that long carriage ride. There's also a warm fire lit in the fireplace.

"Did he recognize you?" I murmur to Drevakin as the servant hurries away to look for Prince Elorshin.

"No," Drevakin says confident. "In his mind, a prince would have introduced himself as such. Since I did not, it will most likely not even cross his mind."

Drevakin underestimates how much of an impact he makes, but he knows the culture better. Plus, I know all about people seeing what they expect to see. One reason the information we get from witnesses is so hit and miss. I frown. I guess I can't think of myself as a police officer anymore. Weird. It’s a big part of my identity. I shake it off for now. We have much bigger things to worry about.

"Do you think Margot is home?" I ask in a low voice.

God, it would be wonderful if she speaks English. Drevakin thinks she does, says our accents are similar.

"Perhaps. I doubt Elorshin will bring her down to meet us until he knows it is me and finds out why we are here."

I guess not. And we might not be staying here, anyway. Drevakin's friend may decide that keeping us here is too much of a risk, and I would understand. He doesn't have just his House to think about, but also his mate and his baby.

I could still leave. Ask Drevakin to take me back to the Celestial Mates office and get a one way ticket back home. I look over at Drevakin's tense face. Leaving him like this just doesn't sit well. That's not true. I have to at least be honest with myself. Leaving him at all...

It shouldn't be this hard. I can't have fallen for him, not this quick, but it doesn't change the fact that I have.

I'm running through our limited options in my head again in case we have to leave, when footsteps come down the hall. Drevakin gets to his feet and I follow suit. The man who steps through the door is just as much of a presence as Drevakin. About the same height, his skin tone is a deeper indigo and his hair is much darker and a gorgeous blue-black that comes down to his waist.

He's dressed similarly in sturdy leathers, and the sword buckled around his waist a familiar sight now. His emerald eyes light up when he sees Drevakin.

"Drevakin! It is good to see you!" he says with a smile, stepping in for a hug.

"It is good to see you," Drevakin responds, clapping his friend on the back. "But I fear I bring trouble to your doorstep."

Elorshin frowns as he catches sight of me over Drevakin's shoulder. I push my hood back and off so I can meet his eyes and he can see me.

"Hello," I say with a nod.

Elorshin steps back, looking between me and Drevakin.

"A human," he murmurs, meeting Drevakin's eyes. "From my experience, I will guess that the trouble is great," he says, his tone serious.

"You would not be wrong," Drevakin agrees. "This is Clara Rivera," he introduces.

"I was not aware that you had gone to Celestial Mates," Elorshin comments, giving me a respectful bow.

Drevakin hesitates, glancing over at me. I know what he's thinking. Elorshin has already assumed we are a match.

"I did go to Celestial Mates," Drevakin confirms. "But Clara was not the match for me."

Elorshin raises his brows in surprise.

"Perhaps it would be best if you started from the beginning. Please, have a seat."

He gestures to the couch so Drevakin and I sit down as Elorshin takes a seat in the armchair across from us, his focus intense.

"Clara matched with Prince Rathorin," Drevakin states, deciding to rip the bandage right off.

Elorshin mutters something unflattering under his breath. "I can see why you would not want to stay with such a male," he remarks, looking over at me with a sympathetic expression. "Margot would call someone like him a... dick, if I am not mistaken."

I let out a surprised bark of laughter at his careful pronunciation of the English word. All right, it's looking like Margot is someone I need to meet. And it seems she does speaks English.

"Well, she would not be wrong," I agree with a smile.

"Yes, she is often right. As I am certain she would say herself," he adds with a happy smile.

This is a guy who's head over heels. Lucky Margot.

"I think we can all agree that Rathorin is not an honorable male," Drevakin continues. Then he sighs, looking over at me. "Clara and I have become... involved. And Rathorin does not take kindly to that fact. As I am sure you understand though your circumstances were not the same."

Elorshin's face loses all traces of humor, his expression turning grim.

"Yes. I was ready to rip Daetoris Ki’lar limb from limb when he took Margot," he admits. "And I did," he adds with a humorless smile.

I wouldn't want to get on his bad side.

"But I am not receiving the impression that Clara came with you unwillingly. Am I correct?" he asks, turning to address me.

"You could say I insisted on coming," I admit.

"Insisted?" Elorshin repeats, grinning a little as he looks over at Drevakin.

"I was on my way back to retrieve her when Rathorin's men intercepted me," Drevakin explains, not taking the bait. "Clara came to warn me. We escaped with our lives only because a swarm of devos attacked and took care of the remaining guards."

Elorshin shakes his head, looking both of us over. His eyes pause on my blood streaked staff. I should have left it in the carriage but I didn't want to risk losing it. He looks up at us, though he doesn't comment on the staff.

"That would explain your bedraggled state," he murmurs.

"We left articles of clothing behind, hoping Rathorin would assume we died in the massacre," I add.

"Hmmm. I suppose it might work." Elorshin tilts his head back, considering us. "Though Rathorin is a tenacious male, especially if he feels slighted."

Drevakin nods. "Which brings us to why we are here." He takes a deep breath. "I apologize for placing you in this position. But I dare not return to House Lo'ara if we are in luck and Rathorin believes we died. He would find out we are alive and bring his wrath down upon my entire House."

Elorshin hums his agreement. "You took the correct action coming here. I can keep you hidden, though I cannot guarantee for how long. Come up with some plan for when Rathorin discovers you are alive. Because he will discover the truth, there are too many people that might see and recognize you. Especially if you have a human with you."

I’m relieved that he wants us to stay but...

"Are you certain?" I blurt out. "It’s a dangerous thing for us to ask."

He looks over at me, his eyes clear and kind.

"I would hope that if Margot was in a similar situation, someone would come to her aid." He looks over at Drevakin. "And I know the injustice that a Major House can mete out firsthand. Even if you were not one of my closest friends, I would not turn you out to the cold to die. Now, you need to think of House Lo'ara in your absence. Is your Second trustworthy?"

Drevakin nods, looking serious.

"Yes, he is. I know he can handle the House in my absence." He shakes his head, looking torn. "I am sorry that I ask you for this. Know I am grateful for your aid. You are one of the most noble males I know. And I am honored to call you friend."

"I know you would do the same for me," Elorshin counters, waving the gratitude away, obviously uncomfortable with it. "Enough of this. I know you must be tired and hungry. Consider this matter settled."

"What matter?" an accented female voice asks from the doorway.

I look over. A human woman. Light caramel skin, curly brown hair, and large brown eyes set in a pretty face. She smiles at Elorshin, but her eyes move over to take in who else he's talking to. She smiles and nods at Drevakin. Then her eyes widen as they land on me.

"A human!" she exclaims in Alvan.

I stand up in response.

"Hey. I'm Clara. You don't speak English do you?" I try, so excited at another human face that I skip all the polite questions.

Her face lights up. "Hell yeah, I do!" she cries out as she hurries over. "Oh my God, I can't tell you how good it is to hear someone else speak in English! Elorshin tries sometimes, but it isn't the same. And sometimes Alvan just doesn't come out right, you know? Especially when I'm mad at Elorshin and I want to lay into him about something but he can't understand a word I'm saying!" She shakes her head in mock despair, her twinkling eyes giving away how happy she is with him. "Massively annoying."

I laugh at how the words spew out of her mouth like she can't wait to tell me everything.

"I can imagine," I say when she takes a breath.

She glances over at Drevakin. Both he and Elorshin are staring at us with bemused expressions.

"Sorry, Drevakin! It's good to see you too! Please tell me you are staying for a while," she asks, her hand gripping my arm tightly.

Drevakin chuckles.

"It seems as if we are," he says, glancing over at Elorshin. "But before you are too excited, perhaps you should speak with Elorshin about the circumstances."

Margot waves that away.

"I will ask Clara." She switches over to English. "Come on, I'll show you the guest bedroom and you can tell me what's going on. Oh man—are those jeans! Where did you get them from? An antique store?"

I glance down at the inexpensive jeans.

"No, I think I got them from some shop at the mall."

She frowns. "The... mall?"

"Yeah," I say with a chuckle. "Don't tell me you haven't been to a mall before."

"No, I haven't." She gives me an odd look. Then she looks at my jeans and t-shirt again. "Is this how you usually dress?" she asks.

That's a weird question. "Yeah, I guess. When I'm not in uniform."

Her face clears. "Coveralls?"

"No," I reply slowly. "My police uniform. I am, or was anyway, a police officer. Back on Earth."

"In the United States?" she asks, her face confused.

"Yes. As were you? Right?"

Something is off here. I frown as the tag line for Celestial Mates pops in my mind. Bringing Love Across Time and Space. Time and space. The same realization crosses Margot's face.

"Time and space," I say out loud, unable to wrap my mind around it.

"What year are you from?" Margot asks in a hushed voice.

"2027," I intone. "I'm guessing that's not when you're from."

"Not even close," Margot confirms. She blinks. "Well, shit! This is so exciting! Oh man, I have to ask you everything! What does cut grass smell like? What was the ocean like? And the flowers! How were the flowers?"

I let Margot pulled me out of the room, glancing over my shoulder at Drevakin. He smiles in response.

"I gotta say Margot," I say as I follow her down the hall. "Future Earth isn't sounding like a great place."

She glances over her shoulder at me. "Why do you think I'm here now?" she points out. "Though I still think it's hilarious that I ended up underground again."

"Underground?"

"We have a lot to talk about," she says.

"Yeah," I say, dazed. "It sounds like we do."

I'm gonna strap in my seat belt now. I'm sure she'll blow my mind, again.

Well, what's left of it to blow, anyway.