I t was a day or so before she received a summons to appear before her mother—and apparently, the entire court along with her—one that she had to think hard about whether not she was going to respond to it, not that she really had much choice, she supposed .

No one in her family—not even her youngest sister, who hadn't been involved in the hoopla—had spoken to her since it had all happened, least of all Vallon. She had been left alone—isolated, except for her servants, with whom she wasn't about to discuss the situation, of course. And she had spent the majority of her time crying. There was no way that this was going to end well, regardless of how it was eventually resolved. He was going to be sent home as soon as it could be arranged, with all possible pomp and ceremony, and that was going to leave her here, soon to be mated with a man of her mother's choice or banished completely from society, perhaps confined to an island or a planet by herself, with just enough supplies to keep her alive while she waited out the years to die alone .

She couldn't bear to seriously consider any of the likely possibilities. Especially what was most definitely going to happen—she was going to spend the rest of her life without him. She should have been jumping for joy about that—she was still reminded every time she sat down how he had treated her—that he was her man, and therefore, dominant over her and that he would always discipline her unapologetically, unrepentantly, and unrelentingly .

But what was the alternative, really? That he stay here? They would be outcasts—subjects of ridicule and speculation at the worst, pointed and laughed at, and Cika couldn't see her mother putting up with that, no matter who his father was .

And if she left with him? What then? She'd spend her life light years away, on a planet that wasn't her own and in a society that was no more likely to be eager to embrace her than hers was to accept him .

What it came down to, she guessed, was whether or not she was willing—whether what she was just beginning to realize she felt for him—would be worth facing something so unknown as living on an entirely different planet in a social system that would always defer to—and refer her to—her husband? And even without all of the external pressures, would she really be happy living like that? Submitting her will to his? Being punished whenever he deemed it necessary, having his children, being no more than his wife—essentially his property? She never did come to any kind of a conclusion, one way or the other, about how she hoped this played out .

When the time came, she put on much more makeup than she usually did, in order to hide the signs of her tears, donning—as was requested on the summons—clothing that was much differently from usual—her ceremonial dress and robes, which had been long since dyed to match the color of her hair—what there was left of it, she thought with a frown, remembering what Vallon had said just before he'd left .

But that was probably not going to happen—she couldn't imagine that her mother would ever allow them to spend any time together at all, much less time alone for any reason. No, she would probably end up saddled with what was considered to be the "right" kind of man for her, one she would be expected to control and mate with normally .

Guards escorted her to the throne room, where she was announced by her full, formal name. "Her Royal Highness, The Princess Royale Cika Raythe Laymon Dezarian Presico ."

She walked down the long, green carpet, past the indecipherable titters and whispers of the court, knowing some of them had to be aware of what had transpired among the royal family not long ago—nothing and no one could control gossip for very long—to where her mother was seated on her ornate throne, made her formal bow, then took the last few steps to lean down and kiss that withered face somewhere in the vicinity of her cheek. She stood to one side, careful that nothing of hers touched Sillandra, whom she was forced, by protocol, to stand next to. She refused to even consider looking Silly in the eye, and as far as she could tell, it seemed the feeling was mutual .

"His Royal Highness, The Exalted Master of All He Surveys, The Crown Prince Vallon Yazmen Terville, son of The Most Perfect King Okul ."

Although she had seen him in his glorious, unselfconscious nakedness, she had never seen him like this. He was absolutely gorgeous, striding—almost swaggering—confidently down the royal blue carpet—as the entire court became apoplectic at the idea of a prince addressing their beloved queen—to again kneel in front of her mother, which must have tickled her to death, since it was a very old fashioned, genteel custom that was really no longer followed, and he certainly had absolutely no cause to kneel to her, for any reason .

But he did, with no sign of mockery or irony apparent, either, knowing it was likely to earn him points—even if he didn't really need them—with both the queen and the others surrounding them. And when she asked him to rise—almost giddily, Cika noted with a frown—he took one big stride with those obscenely long legs of his and took her hand, bending low to kiss the back of it, murmuring, "My most gracious and beautiful Queen ."

Then he stepped back, and Cika found herself caught staring at the man himself. And did he just have the audacity to wink at her ?

Apparently, he had, because she heard Silly's less than delicate snort in reaction, seconds later .

"Prince Vallon, we are glad to see you looking so robust and healthy ."

"Thank you. I had a wonderful rest in the beautiful apartments in which you have so generously seen fit to ensconce me, my Queen." He smiled. "And may I say you are looking most lovely today yourself? That color—amethyst, is it—suits you perfectly ."

Her mother—the queen —giggled like a schoolgirl. It was all Cika could do not to roll her eyes. What had happened to the strong, stalwart woman who had raised her ?

"Prince Vallon, you are highly improper ."

"So I have been told nearly all my life, my Queen. It is my cross to bear ."

The queen smiled broadly down at him for a moment longer, then settled herself in her chair. "Well, as much as we have enjoyed your stay — "

"Some of us more than others," Silly interjected under her breath, but Cika staunchly ignored it .

"We wouldn't want to keep you from your very concerned father any longer, and thus, it is with great regret that we must send you—" The older woman's focus changed from him to a man who was standing off to the side a bit, his uniform much less grand than Vallon's. "We must send you and your friend, Lord Hawl, back home." The other man bowed in acknowledgement of the queen's mention .

"I have given you one of our ships, with all of the necessary accoutrement, to get back to your planet in relative comfort. Please convey my greetings and felicitations to your father and mother, when next you see them ."

Vallon nodded. "Thank you very much for your gracious gift. It is much appreciated ."

Her mother looked satisfied that all was going to turn out well, at least in regards to hopefully not being invaded by the fierce warriors of Juqar, but she obviously hadn't counted on Vallon not stopping there—when he should have .

"But I find that I am quite unwilling to leave your delightful planet without taking someone from here with me ."

The entirety of the court—including Cika—first gaped, then gasped .

As he spoke, he walked up to stand in front of her, taking her hand to guide her to stand next to him, facing her mother, instead. "I'm sure you can understand the reasons behind my reluctance to leave the woman who is—even by your own laws—my mate, and moreover, by the laws of my planet, the princess royale is now my wife ."

After a long moment of stunned silence, during which everyone in the room seemed to have been holding their breath, they all began to speak at once, until her mother banged her huge purple scepter on the floor several times, ordering them all to quiet .

Cika watched her mother adjusting her position in her seat for a moment, knowing she was employing the tactic in order to deliberately delay her response. When she spoke, her head was tilted a bit and she eyed Vallon closely. "My Prince, if I might have a moment of your time—as well as the princess royale's—to speak with the two of you in the privacy of my audience chamber ?"

"Of course, my Queen ."

The three of them retired to the room that was just behind the throne room. Cika knew the room had been thoroughly soundproofed the minute her mother had ascended to the throne .

Once they were alone, her mother dropped the sycophant routine, and Cika hoped Vallon wouldn't be annoyed that she was showing him her true colors .

But she needn't have been concerned. Vallon had learned the art of governance at his father's knee—he knew how the game was played .

"Why don't we just cut to the chase here? I find myself growing quite weary of the drama. I'm too old for that kind of stuff." She strode up to Vallon and poked him firmly in the chest with her bony finger. "Why should I allow you to leave this planet with my eldest daughter in tow, young man? She is to be the new queen, when I have worn out my welcome ."

Ever the diplomat, Vallon returned, "You said it yourself, great Queen. She is not who you would have chosen to follow you, although I would put it to you that the one you prefer might not be the best choice either, that is not a matter of my concern. Your eldest—my wife—though, most certainly is , and therefore, she will be accompanying me home ."

"Whether or not she might cotton to the work, the line—by tradition—must pass down through her ."

"Then, if that's not an option, banish her. You mentioned it that night as an option, and it seems to me that it's the best of the bunch. Then, she is no longer a viable heiress and you could groom whomever you prefer. You would need to put her somewhere, preferably well out of the public eye, and quickly, so that the talk and publicity would die down and you could get on with the serious business of ruling. She would be ruined, and no one would much care what it was that you did with her. Put her with me. In fact, everyone else would be likely to see it as a fit punishment, frankly ."

Her mother—to Cika's horror—had been nodding throughout his little speech, but then she trained her piercing gaze on her .

"What say you about all of this, daughter ?"

Vallon stepped closer to Cika, putting his arm around her waist, telling her with much more confidence than he actually felt in his words, "She is my wife, and she will do as she is told ."

That got her mother to laugh outright. "Cika? This girl has never once, in my much longer experience with her than you, ever done what she was told. I tried to educate her, tried to impart my knowledge about governing to her as she grew up. She much preferred to spend her time reading fairy tales about faraway lands, as opposed to learning anything that might actually be useful to her or the people she was to rule. She's always had her head in the clouds ."

"Well, I have my own methods of grounding her and even managed to put them into place in a society that—if that fact were known—would probably throw me off a cliff for merely daring to exist and putting my beliefs into action—especially on a member of the royal family ."

Her mother balked. "Well, I'd like to think that we wouldn't be quite that rigid, but you could be right." She brought herself up to her full height, which wasn't much, especially in comparison with Vallon's. "Still, I would hear it from her lips ."

Vallon opened his mouth again, but Queen Raythe gave him the eye, and he shut it again .

"Cika?" she asked, quite gently .

The younger woman raised eyes to her mother that were filled with tears. "I don't know what to say! I don't know what would be the right thing to do, Mother ."

"Do you want to be with this man and live in his society, which, from what I now understand of it, sounds like a terribly restrictive place for a woman, but then, it is not I who would be living there ?"

"As opposed to ascending to a throne I don't want and am not fit to assume? Or being banished to live out my life alone somewhere? Even if he stayed here with me ?"

The queen's eyes darted to Vallon's. "Oh, I don't think that is even an option, dear. I doubt his father would allow the crown prince to remain here ."

Cika put her hands over her face and sobbed. "I must not be very smart, because I cannot see any clear choice ."

She felt Vallon's arm tighten around her at that, knowing that was not what he wanted her to say, but she was being completely honest. She had feelings for him, she did. But they were new and tentative, and she truly didn't know which way to turn .

Her mother cupped her wet cheeks in her hands. "You are not stupid, Cika. In fact, of my children, you are by far the smartest, and I think that that has been part of your problem from the start. The best queens are not always the smartest ."

Finally, Vallon felt could remain silent no longer. "While I appreciate your desire to hear your daughter's viewpoint, my Queen, I believe that, as her husband, I have stated that the matter has already been settled. Banish her or not, it will be of no consequence to us—although I might ask you to consider not doing so, if you would ever like to see any of your grandchildren by us. The bare truth of the matter is that your daughter could well be pregnant by now with my child. There is absolutely no possibility, therefore, that I would ever leave here without her, and whether or not she prefers to go with me is really not a consideration ."

Raythe inclined her head to Vallon, looking at him and then back at her daughter. "Well, then, I guess that is the end of the discussion, isn't it ?"

* * *

N ot being the best sort with the hard sciences, Cika had never been in a spaceship before, and she hadn't necessarily been looking forward to being in this one, either, but here she was .

When they had gone back to the throne room, her mother had announced that she, Princess Cika, was indeed going to be leaving and going back to Juqar with Prince Vallon, who was most definitely her husband and mate. Beyond that, she declined to elaborate, except to say that the couple would, out of necessity, be leaving as soon as possible .

So now—only a few hours later—she found herself hurtling through space towards Vallon's home planet, having left behind literally everyone and everything she was familiar with, except for the books and clothes and personal affects she had brought with her. She was in a bit of a state of shock, simply sitting there, staring out the window at the stars passing them by .

Of the two men, Vallon was the only one who knew how to read Aristolian, so he was being kept quite busy piloting the ship, although Lord Hawl was obviously doing everything he could to help. She was sitting in the back row of chairs, well away from the both of them, glad that they were both too busy to pay much attention to her .

Eventually, though, Vallon got up, heading back to where the facilities were, and saw her just sitting there. "Why don't you go lie down and take a nap? This is a long trip, Cika, and you might as well rest up. We're probably going to be quite busy, once we arrive ."

"No, thank you," she said quietly, not really having so much as turned in her chair to look at him or acknowledge that he was there. "I'm not sleepy ."

Suddenly, he was at her elbow, reaching down to swing her chair around and grabbing onto the arms so that she had to look up at him. "I'm not asking, Cika. Do as you are told, please," he said, leaning up and moving out of the way to stand in the aisle looking at her expectantly .

Frowning darkly, she sighed in obvious annoyance but did get up and head for their bedroom. Vallon called up to Hawl, saying that he would be back in a minute. Hawl smiled slightly in commiseration with his friend. "I'll be fine. You do what you need to do ."

Nodding, Vallon turned back to follow his wife into their cabin, closing the door behind him. Although he had other things he intended to do, for a moment, he simply leaned back against the door and watched her, not quite able to believe that he'd managed to accomplish what he wanted, and that she was now truly his .

She had obeyed him—at least to the letter—and was lying there on top of the covers, her eyes closed, but he sincerely doubted that she was asleep yet .

So, he made his way to her side of the bed and sat down, reaching to pull her over his lap .

"What are you doing?" she yelled, fighting him all the way .

Of course, she lost, badly, ending up right where he wanted her. "Well," he answered, voice low, "Originally, I was just going to check to see how your little rump was after I had taken the belt to it, but I think that, with that attitude, forgetting to call me sir multiple times, and trying to physically thwart my will, you've earned yourself a punishment ."

Seconds later, her pants and panties were at half mast, binding her knees together nicely for him, having said rump—which was definitely not anywhere near recovered from the punishment he had delivered a night or so ago—stung by his atrociously thorough style of no nonsense discipline .

And what was worse was that she was having to do so while trying—and not succeeding very well—not to cry out, which was damned near impossible. Everything in her wanted to scream with each and every smack—and she was pretty sure that was his exact intention. But they weren't in her room, where the walls were thick and there was no one else living around her, anyway .

They were in a nice stateroom, but not twenty feet away was the man who was driving them to their destination, and Cika had no interest in letting him know that she was being spanked .

But, after ten agonizing minutes, when he didn't seem to be showing any signs of stopping or even slowing down at all, she found she simply couldn't remain quiet any longer. And once she gave voice to her woes, she lost all ability to contain them at all .

And that was just what he'd been waiting for, apparently, continuing to spank her good and hard, watching her try to kick at him uselessly, rocking herself as much as she could to try to avoid a swat—which she was never able to—hearing her hiccoughing sobs and adding to them ruthlessly .

When he'd finished spanking her, he wasn't finished with her, though. No, he flipped her onto her back, onto that roasted bottom, tugging her down to the edge of the mattress where he stood at the side of the bed and fitting himself between legs that she'd forgotten—in her misery—to keep closed. He drew her right onto the surging erection that he had simply reached down and freed from his pants—not even bothering to undress himself in the least—pressing her thighs as far back as he could to expose her more thoroughly while continuing to force her to accept him—which her body had, of course, made easier for him since he had punished her. Vallon looked down to see how she was stretched tight around him, then began to thrust at the sight—hard and heavy from the start, occasionally reaching under her to squeeze a hot cheek, sending her arching against him and further onto him each time .

"Take off the rest of your clothes," he ordered .

The sobbing that had been replaced by pleasurable moans returned as she sniffled and whimpered—but obeyed him, which he counted as a good thing. When she had finished and was completely nude before him, he murmured, "Good girl, Princess. Put your hands over your head, and no matter what I do to you, you had better not move them, or you'll earn yourself another spanking before I leave you to take a nap ."

She groaned in protest, but he watched as her hands crept up to where he wanted them to be, anyway. "Good girl," he praised again, patting—somewhat less than gently—her most tender bits, which were obscenely presented to him because of the way he was holding her, his roughness causing her to jerk and cry out with each descent of his very targeted fingers .

But then, they began to work on that much better version of a little button of hers, and he found himself serenaded by the most salacious sounding moans, which only drove him to take her—and frig her—faster, until they both exploded at the same time, her clamping and clenching around him and him snapping his hips as he held on to her tips, each thrust adding a touch of pain to her ultimate pleasure .

With a last, heavy surge into her, he draped his body over hers, looking up to note with satisfaction that her hands were where they were supposed to be, over her head. They were gripping the coverlet for dear life, but she had kept them in position .

"Good princess," he whispered into her ear. "You came well for me ."

Vallon had no idea why, but his words had the opposite effect than he had intended, and she began to cry, asking through her tears, "S-sir, may I take my h-hands down now ?"

"Yes, of course," he responded instantly, rubbing her biceps and shoulders in case they were aching from having been up there for so long. Then, as she continued to sob softly, he removed her clothes completely from the bed, tucked her under the covers and kissed her cheek. "I want you to take a nap, Cika. You need your sleep. You've been through a very stressful time, and I want you to relax during this voyage as much as you can ."

She was still weeping when he stood looking back at her from the doorway. "Stay in bed until I come for you. I don't want you to do anything but sleep or lie here quietly ."

No reading, in other words, she frowned, fresh tears flowing down her cheeks .

He had to force himself to leave her there. Although he chalked it up to exactly what he had said to her—being overtired and overstressed—he still wanted to stay with her and hold her and talk to her about why she was crying .

But he really couldn't. Hawl was an experienced pilot, but not with one of these foreign babies, and he really needed to be up front, steering the thing and making sure they didn't get off course. So, reluctantly, keeping his eyes on her as long as he could, Vallon shut the door and applied himself to getting them all home as quickly and as safely as he possibly could .