Humans.

If he had a sense of humor, he would be amused. He respected a leader’s right to vet the worth of a suitor for the hand of a treasured daughter—especially a warrior daughter. He’d dismissed the human, erroneously accepting the impression given him by Gayle that her will in the matter was the only one that counted.

He should have known better. Young warriors never wished to accept the leash that bound them all—duty to family and maintaining the honor of the bloodline. It was no different with human females, apparently.

“I appreciate you coming to see me,” Bakari said. “Gayle hasn’t told me much about you.”

Ithann sipped the wine provided by his host. It had taken several hours to calm himself down—to think with the cool cunning he was trained for. To suppress the desire to shed blood and take his female from her prisoner the hard way—for everyone else.

“But I’m sure you’ve done something about the lack of information?”

The two men smiled at each other, pleasant, and understanding each other perfectly well.

“I understand you come from the Ngandan City-State in Rykesha Province,” Bakari said. “I’m pleased to speak with someone from that area. We’ve been having difficulties negotiating an export of minerals. We’re told our understanding of local trading customs are putting our factor at a disadvantage.”

“I haven’t heard of the negotiations. With my current assignment, my honored parents have given me leave to ignore certain family matters.”

Bakari’s brow rose. Ithann found the coloring of humans curious. Gayle’s hair was as blue as the body of any Yadeshi female, but her skin was a deep, golden brown, a shade typically reserved for… trees and beverages. Odd, though striking.

But her father, his tightly curled hair was cropped short, and a deep black shot through with silver. Was her mother’s hair blue as well? He hadn’t seen any other human with that hair color, though a few of the students sported pinks, or bright reds.

Would his child have blue hair?

“Your family has knowledge of this issue?” the father asked, a mild curiosity in his tone.

Ithann nearly snorted. The male was much better than the daughter at hiding his true feelings, though with time and effort, Gayle would be as polished. His mother’s training would help. His mother could train an yoxen and they were the most stubborn of the beasts of burden in the farming provinces.

“Your factor is in discussions with the Ngandan Bdahn?”

“His office, yes.”

“Ah. My father must have delegated you to my elder brother.” Ithann smiled. “I will speak with him.” He rose, offered Bakari a hand. “I must return to the Academy. Am I permitted to return and speak with Abigail?”

Bakari rose, clasping his hand. “Of course, I’ve always encouraged my daughter to cultivate friendships in all walks of life—it’s so important for young people to be well rounded. Especially when it comes time to choose a spouse.”

“My people think much the same way. My mother, Bdakhun Ythana, has been insisting for years I wed a female of good family. She would be ecstatic if I were to announce a betrothal.”

“Bdakhun Ythana?” Bakari paused. “We’ve had the pleasure of speaking with her—briefly only. She seems to be a very wise woman.”

Gayle’s father smiled. They understood each other well. Humans weren’t so foolish after all—maybe bloodshed wouldn’t be necessary to solve this. Ithann was almost disappointed.

* * *

“The Ngandan prince came to see me today.”

Gayle shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not interested in politics.”

Her mother glanced at her. “Well, you can’t like this man all that much if a visit from him doesn’t interest you.”

Gayle looked up from her plate, scowling. “What? Who are you talking about?”

And now both her parents stared at her. Her father shook his head. “Abigail, please tell me you are aware of whom you’ve been courting.”

“Ithann? I thought you didn’t like Ithann.”

Bakari frowned, annoyed. “No, I thought he was merely passing his time with you, and that’s unacceptable. But an Ngandan prince—even if he is the youngest son—is an acceptable match.”

Now she was thoroughly confused. “Ithann isn’t a prince. The Yadeshi don’t have royalty.”

Her mother sighed, and took another bite of dinner. “Well, it’s not an exact translation, dear. And they do have ruling families in their provinces, over the major City-States. Really, haven’t you done any reading on the people training you?”

“Of course, I have. I’ve read about their military, technology, and things I need to know.” Gayle put down her spoon, and stood up. “Will you excuse me? Evidently I have some things to discuss with my alien.”

Returning to her suite, she sat and thought for over an hour before contacting him. Thought about what exactly her life might be like if she did marry a high-ranking Yadeshi… military officer. Prince. Whatever. And realized how little she knew about him, his life on his planet. About what, exactly, he wanted and might expect from her.

She used her desk console rather than her smaller handheld device, not wanting to miss a single nuance of his expression. His face was closed and impassive, as usual, the set of his shoulders stiff.

“You aren’t much of a prince,” she said.

His expression didn’t change, however an edge of frost entered his tone. “What?”

Gaye leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. “The translators you have access to must be of the highest quality. Your inflections are flawless.”

“You’re mistaken, enja. I don’t utilize a translator.”

“Excuse me?”

“My English very good.”

Gayle blinked. His face hadn’t moved. But… was that a joke? “Do you mean you learned to speak English?”

He sighed. “I speak several Earth languages—they aren’t all that complex. Your thoughts won’t evolve for another millennium, at least. Gayle, you are welcome to my attention at any time, however I was on a call with my brother. Is there something you need?”

“You came to see my father?”

“Yes. I did. He and I have an understanding. Apparently, you were remiss—it was expected that you formally introduce me to him. I didn’t think things were done that way here. I could have avoided a fuck up earlier if I’d known.”

Her back stiffened. Excellent inflections. “Are you scolding me?” She certainly didn’t like the reproach in his tone. “Never mind. Why did my father call you a prince?”

“Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“I wanted to talk about why you came to my home and didn’t break me out of here!”

He stared at her with poorly concealed astonishment before his expression smoothed. “I forget how young you are.”

Gayle picked up the crystal inkpot on the desk and threw it at the nearest wall. It shattered. She stared, satisfied, at the glittering shards on the floor.

Ithann laughed. Her head jerked towards the screen. “You—you’re laughing at me.”

“Not really. It will be entertaining watching you with my mother.”

She smiled, jaw tight. “Let’s talk about your mother. Let’s talk about your family. Let’s talk about what, exactly, you were thinking I’m supposed to do as the spouse of a… noble.”

“When you called, I was speaking with my brother. He will ease the negotiations your father has in my province—”

“He what?”

He shut his mouth, then said, “Gayle, start paying attention to the dealings of your family. We’ll talk later.”

* * *

A week passed. Her one impatient attempt to break out of the home was aborted by security, and her various calls to lawyers and people in high places were unfruitful. As she had suspected they would be. Her father’s reputation, sterling as it was, and her reputation for being a less traditional High Tier woman, conspired against her. Ithann contacted her, but the call was brief and she could tell he was distracted, his response to her questions cagey. He commended her on her control and lack of outbursts, and gave her some instruction on why her escape attempt failed. That last bit set her teeth on edge. He wanted her to be a warrior—but he also wanted her to be well behaved. She could read between the damn lines.

Mila called her, eyes angry. “What is this shit with your father? Do I need to come over there?”

Gayle laughed. “Security would just try and snatch you and then we’d have a hoard of angry blue aliens on the front lawn. Though, that might be fun. Liven up this neighborhood.”

Mila’s eyes narrowed. “You know security can’t handle what I got.”

“You’re crazy. Did Jaron forgive you yet?”

“He’s still in a snit. I don’t care. As long as he puts out, he can be moody all he wants.”

“Hey, there’s more to a relationship than good sex.”

“I’ve got these glowy things,” Mila said, holding up her patterned arms. “So, it’s not like he can stay mad forever.” Her voice softened. “He’s administering the fertility treatments himself.”

Gayle’s eyes widened. “You rat! You didn’t tell me.”

Mila smiled. “I wanted to wait to make sure they would take. Everything is going well, but we’ll want to join Mom off planet soon.”

“Well, if things go my way, I’ll be coming with.”

“They won’t know what hit them.”

When Gayle emerged from her suite for dinner, her parents sprang yet another small torture on her.

“We’re having a black-tie event,” Miranda announced. “The stylist will be by with gowns for our selection.”

Gayle lowered her head into her hands. “Lock up your adult daughter to force her to marry; check. Throw a ball; check. You’re all mad.”

When she looked up, her mother was frowning. “Abigail, can we please do something about your hair?”

She scowled. “I just had the braids redone. I’m not wasting all that time in a chair because you want to artificially process my natural hair to fit some arcane standard of feminine beauty which isn’t even realistic for our phenotype.”

“At least put them up in a style,” Miranda snapped. “I just—Bakari.”

Her father lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I think she is lovely as she is.” Her father, the consummate liar. He could afford to be urbane—he held the key to her lock.

Time to try another escape, but this time she’d have to do it when he least expected.

* * *

“You didn’t include an image in your dossier, Ithann,” his mother complained.

“I wish to surprise you.”

Her beautiful, patrician face soured. “I hate surprises. I need to know the quality of the fabric you want me to sew with.”

He smiled. Even with nearly a century of age in front of him, she still looked as youthful as the images taken at his parents’ bonding ceremony.

“Gayle will bring you pride, Mother. You’ve wished for a daughter, and I am bringing you one worthy of our house.”

How surprising, that his mother and Gayle were very similar. His mother’s hair was long, styled in a myriad of black braids and woven in an intricate design around her head, adding height to her already elegant frame. Ornaments draped over her temples, the gold a glitter against her skin.

Her eyes narrowed. “What have you told her about us?”

“Not much.”

“Ithann.”

He shrugged. “She is a warrior. She will adapt. One battleground or another—what difference? Besides, she’s bored and needs a challenge. The people here require nothing of her.”

“Is she undisciplined?”

“No more than you at her age, with time and beauty and more energy than three toddling babes on your hands.”

“Oh, dear.”

His lips quirked. “Indeed.”

She regarded him “And have you… bonded?”

His teeth clenched. “I have not touched her.”

“I see.” Her tone was very dry. “And yet you’ve no doubt the bond is possible?”

“None.”

“Good.” Satisfaction gleamed in her eyes. “Well, I never thought my youngest son would be the untraditional one and bring home an alien bride, but I trust your judgment and her family credentials are respectable. Give her the welcome of our house on behalf of your father and me.”