The Primen's eyes swept over all of us, lingering on me the longest. "I stand before you tonight not as your leader, but as your purveyor. Based on your status and blood history, I have selected three women for tonight's sample. I assure you, the women in my stock have been thoroughly examined."

Carzon continued his speech, moving on to the care his servants took in selecting just the right group of human women for our auction. I could have pointed out that moments before, he swore that he had made the choices himself, but such an interruption would reflect more poorly on me than on him.

Only a fool would believe that a man staying at the top of the Xicret hierarchy would bother walking through a room of mating stock.

Instead, my eyes focused on a trio of weapons fixed to the wall above Carzon's desk. Two of them, a curved sword with live edges on either side and a metal staff the length of my forearm, were our martial weapons.

The third, a smaller blade without the curved hilt our weaponsmiths favor, was positioned between and above the other two. Small flecks of blood, some Xicret and some I couldn't identify by sight, adorned the edges of both blades.

It wasn't unusual for warrior caste to display weapons that had served them well in a place of honor, but it was rare to display an unclean weapon. Even rarer, a foreign one.

Carzon approached me as he finished his prepared speech. A tight smile appeared on his lips as he clapped his fist to his shoulder. "Zarbonov vin Xarran, well met.”

I returned the gesture. In any other circumstance, a Primen with my name and the name of my father on the tip of his tongue would be cause for celebration. The complications that came with Carzon's unique tenure as Primen often turned traditional meetings on their head.

"I'm surprised you have time to greet me personally. Being the purveyor of this establishment must keep you busy."

The Primen straighten his spine, rising to his full height. "Indeed, business has been good and my wife has her sly ways of demanding my attention. The human women have more . . . mysteries to them than ours. Though not so much that local gossip escapes my ear. “

One of the human attendants came near, offering us a silver tray with two bowls of honey wine. The other approached Farran and Harran, a similar tray in her trembling fingers. I reached for one and brought the edge of the vessel to my lips. But as the first drops of the fiery sweet liquid hit my tongue, I pressed my lips shut.

“As you said, business has been good,” I said, only half embellishing. My family’s academy has trained generations of Xicret warriors. Police, soldiers, special forces. No level of combat was beyond our facilities or our skill.

None of that mattered anymore. As my father's heir, the family's status depended on my status. The future of my bloodline for generations depended on my finding not just a wife, but a worthy one. And Carzon damn well knew it.

Before his rise to Primen, when he was a simple warrior, Carzon had stumbled upon a backwater planet with hardly any technology to speak of. Some said that the gods favored him and his discovery of the human women was proof of it. His detractors claimed that the human women tamed his cock. They believed that the trail of blood Carzon left behind in his ascension led directly to his human wife's heat.

“Mystery does not interest me. If she can learn our ways, she will make a suitable mate.” The rest of it almost spilled out of my mouth before I could stop myself. I took a sip of wine from the bowl to cover the hesitation.

The Primen caught it anyway. He tilted his head to the side, his eyes crinkling at the corners in something that almost looked like sympathy. Or it might have to someone who was unaware of his reputation. "I can assure you that I never present humans to customers unless they've proven themselves intelligent and capable of following directions. I take my establishment's reputation quite seriously."

"Then there should be no issue." I hoped that might end the conversation, but deep down, I knew the Primen had his return volley already prepared.

"Surely, there must be something more you require in a mate." He glanced over his shoulder, locking eyes for a moment with one of his human servants. She nodded and whispered to the other servant. I couldn't hear her words from my place across the room, but both shifted positions, putting their delicious half-naked bodies between the others and us.

Carzon continued speaking as if none of it had happened. "Perhaps a desire you preferred not to mention on your application?"

My spine stiffened. I tried to reason with myself. There was no way Purveyor Carzon could know what I was after, but Primen Carzon? There was no scrap of information on the planet beyond his reach.

For a moment, I wondered how many other men of a status similar to mine had dealt with the same test. How many of them had failed? My eyes wandered to Farran and Harran, both with their eyes fixed on the human slaves' breasts.

I drained the bowl of wine in my hands and set it on Carzon's desk. A warrior would never set his drinking vessel on the desk of the Primen, not if he valued his position. Merchants had no right to demand deference of warriors.

"If there were, I would expect a merchant as skilled as yourself to anticipate my desires. Particularly, a merchant who cares so much about his reputation."

Carzon's eyes darted down to the bowl on his desk then back up to mine. His lips twitched at the corners, then spread into a wide smile. "Gentlemen, there has been a slight change to tonight's proceedings. Zarbonov, son of Xarran, will have the first choice of tonight's stock."

Farran's eyes flashed with rage. He grabbed the slave's shoulder and pushed her aside. "What? I paid good money to be at a sitting where all bids were equal. You can't just change the rules of a deal midstream!"

The look of utter disgust on Carzon's face silenced the young soldier. His face flushed a deeper navy as he realized his mistake. Farran may have been born into high status, but the years hadn't been kind to his family. By all rights, Carzon could have ejected him from the auction house right there.

I almost felt sorry for him. The complexity of social regulations could take a lifetime to master. Special cases such as Farran's came with additional rules that often rendered smooth navigation impossible. Perhaps, in the end, it was kinder for him to find a human wife who wouldn't know how much face she’d lose to stand at his side.

Harran objected to the sudden change in plan just as much as Farran, but he was more seasoned in the ways of society. At least, enough to know his proper place within it. He lowered his head, hiding the disappointment in his eyes beneath a greedy gulp of wine. However, as much as he disagreed with Carzon's decision, he wouldn't dare question it out loud.

Honor and tradition demanded that I protest something so brazenly done for my benefit. Our people held deep pride in earning everything they received. What Carzon had done wasn't merely unusual. It was highly improper.

It was also exactly what I needed. Farran's anger can only mean that he and Harran had already arranged to join forces when the bidding began.

"Your offer is generous, Carzon, but I must decline. It would be unfair to men who so bravely defend our people." The words left my mouth like ash drifting from a fire. I couldn't have cared less what was fair to Farran or Harran. Let the pair of them die alone, with no sons or daughters to carry their blood forward.

"I insist, Zarbonov. Consider it a gift to honor our newfound friendship," Carzon said. He snapped his fingers and waved the servants away. They bowed their heads to him, each taking one of the warriors by the arm and guiding them out of the office.

He knew he had trapped me. To refuse a gift given in friendship was the same as refusing the friendship entirely. No member of the warrior caste, however rich their accounts or renowned their blood, could afford to refuse an offer of friendship from the Primen.

"You have a better understanding of my needs than I gave you credit for, Carzon." It was as close to an admission of defeat as I could afford to give him.

"As I said, my reputation is important to me. The reputation of my High Warriors, doubly so." He crossed to the bar and poured two fresh bowls of wine. "Now that we're alone, I can speak plainly."

"I would welcome it," I said. And for the first time all night, I meant it.

"Good. I have no use for rumors, Zarbonov." He passed the bowl to me without missing a beat. "Particularly, not ones with solutions as simple as yours. A rumor unchecked is a weakness for your enemy to exploit."

"I wasn't aware my house had many enemies."

"You had better brace yourself, then. A declaration of friendship from me is a better lure than the sweetest nectar you've ever tasted." Carzon lifted his wine in a toast. "And I truly want us to be friends."

I lifted my bowl, mimicking his toast. His actions raised too many questions, but I wasn't fool enough to try getting any of them answered. Carzon didn't reach his position by giving away information. Whatever his plans, he would let me know them when he chose or leave me in the dark. Nothing I said in that moment could affect his decision. It could only cost me an advantage I badly needed.

"Then to our friendship," I said, taking a deep drink from the bowl.

When I finished, the Primen clapped me on the back. "Like a true Xiban Warrior. Now come, my friend. Your bride awaits."

I followed him out of the room, ignoring the still full bowl he’d left behind.