Clara

Taking a deep breath, I wipe my hands on my jeans as butterflies dance in my stomach. This might be the stupidest thing I've ever done.

"All right Clara," the Celestial Mates representative says. "Just step on to this platform and then you'll be on your way."

Swallowing hard, I step on the small, dull gray metallic platform. It's set up in a different room than the one I was in for my interview. After the initial shock of the last time I was here, I asked for a few weeks to consider what I wanted to do. I also asked for some information about Alvan culture, figuring I may as well read up if I have the time. They gave me a while to mull it over, though the rep emphasized the need for a quick answer.

She wanted one by the next day, but when I was firm that I would need more time, she gave in. Not gracefully, but she did. It still sounds insane, and I'm skeptical that it's true, but it’s also a lot of effort to go through to fool someone.

The first thing I did after leaving the office building was call Stella. The surprise in her voice was obvious.

"You already matched? And to two Princes?" she'd gasped. "I'm so jealous!"

I'd aired my concerns about the whole thing being legitimate. Once I was out of the office, it had seemed more and more far-fetched, until I didn't know what convinced me that this could be true. But Stella egged me on, told me I should at least follow through to find out if it was a scam. Then I could blow the whistle on it.

She was right. So I’ve spent the entire time since then reading up on the culture and trying to learn as much of the language as I can. I've always had a knack for language, but Alvan is a whole different animal. There isn't any other language I can compare it to. Which I guess makes sense if it really is an alien tongue.

Hell, I'm not even sure I'm saying everything correctly, though I have an audio file for pronunciation. I tried searching for different phrases on the internet in case it was a language they were trying to pass off as alien, but I couldn't find anything. Another piece of the puzzle that doesn't make sense if they are a scam.

There’s a lot of easier cons to run. Ones that don't involve creating complicated languages. So, after sitting with it for a couple weeks, I called and told them I was up for it. If it's all a big hoax, I'll shut the whole operation down before some other unsuspecting fool gets caught up in it. But there’s a part of me that's still hoping that isn't the case.

Because if it's true...

The idea of immersing myself in a different culture, a different planet altogether, is more appealing than anything I've encountered since I can remember. I understand why Stella would want this to be legitimate. That doesn't mean I don't feel like an idiot as I step onto the low platform, but I've felt like an idiot many times before. I'll get over it.

"So how long will—"

I blink and I'm not in the same room anymore. I'm looking at a perfect view of Earth.

Oh my God.

I stare, my mouth slack as I take in the view of Earth and space around it, the stars twinkling merrily. It could be a screen. It has to be a screen. But then how did I get here between one blink and the next? Did they drug me? I look around and find a few people pushing buttons and staring at screens straight out of Star Trek.

I'm about to say something, though I don't know what, when a yelp escapes my throat. The best way I can describe... it... is as a green blob with eyes and short, twig-like arms. My hands fly to my mouth as I suppress an urge to scream. Frowning, I look over at the other two people and realize they're not right either.

One of them has slits on the side of its neck that are fluttering, and the other is an almost iridescent blue-green, her hair floats around her head rather than being the curly mass I first thought.

Uh.

I blink again and when I open my eyes, I'm not in that room anymore.

This is getting irritating.

It’s similar, but there's a whole new set of people. I don't get a chance to take in the scenery but this time I keep my eyes open, refusing to blink. Not that it helps.

Everything goes black for a split second and then flickers back into place. Now, I'm not on any kind of ship anymore, but rather in a small office-like room.

"Welcome, Clara!"

I look toward the voice to find a man who’s just as tall, slim, and ethereal as the representative back on Earth.

"Hi," I say, hesitantly. "Can I step off this thing now?" I ask warily, wondering if I might end up somewhere else again any second.

"Of course! Did you have a pleasant journey?" he asks in the same musical voice.

"Sure," I respond, light-headed and dizzy as I step down.

I guess if I really have teleported across the galaxy, feeling a little dizzy is a minor side effect.

"Welcome to Alva! Your match is waiting for you outside," he continues, beaming a bright smile.

Right. Rathorin Ti'ana. Prince Rathorin Ti'ana.

Still somewhat in a daze, I follow the Celestial Mates agent out into a short hallway.

"We are in House Viir's cavern at the moment, so you will have to travel to your new home," he explains as he guides us outside.

I nod, but I'm already looking around at where I've ended up. Reading about living underground in a network of catacombs with carved out caverns is one thing, especially when I didn't believe it was real. Seeing it is a completely different thing. The cavern, or Rakennus as they call it in Alvan, is huge.

There’s a massive border walls that fortifies and marks off the territory of House Viir. Giant floodlights rest at even intervals across the wall, lighting the area where the Celestial Mates office is. It doesn't look like a permanent structure, but more like one of those temporary bungalow type things. Or whatever the outer space equivalent is, I guess. I don't feel quite here as I look around.

While the floodlights are dazzling, the actual cavern itself is not all that bright. What must be sieni covers the walls and ceiling. Sieni is a lichen like plant that emits a green glow and I read is the main source of light here. I take this all in with one quick scan before my attention falls on the man standing in front of me.

There’s no mistaking Rathorin. He steps forward with a smile and a bow, his sheer massiveness even more intimidating in person.

I'm not a small woman, but there's no denying the size difference here. It's not just that he's taller, he's also broad and well muscled. This isn't a man who spends his time on his ass. He's dressed in a canary yellow, sleeveless, long gown style thing, with intricate embroidery and a full, deep V open at his chest, showing off carved pectorals. He has a sword buckled around his waist and boots on his feet. I can tell the fabric is lightweight and I understand why. It’s hot as shit here.

I suddenly realize I’m woefully under dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, while simultaneously being overdressed because it's so hot.

"Welcome, Clara Rivera," Rathorin says, his voice pleasantly deep. "I am Prince Rathorin Ti'ana."

The Celestial Mates agent translates. All I caught of what he said was my name and his. Not knowing what else to do, I nod and smile.

"Thank you," I say carefully, trying to pronounce the unfamiliar words.

"If you are ready, we can begin the journey back to house Ti'ana," he says politely, looking at me expectantly.

I look to the ethereal agent who translates and indicates I should go with Rathorin. Nodding, I adjust the straps of my backpack and pick up my duffle with my other hand.

"I can take that," Rathorin says with a frown, holding his hand out.

At least I think that's what he says. I basically get the gist of it. I shake my head when he tries to take it, but then smile and say thank you to soften the refusal. His mouth tightens but then he relaxes. He gestures and I look where he’s directing.

Holy shit.

That must be a juntta. I'm not the biggest fan of insects, but even I can admit the creature is amazing. It's like an enormous beetle. Its iridescent carapace gleams under the light and it has multiple spindly legs that twitch constantly. Its sides gently expand and contract as it breathes. Attached to it is a carriage covered with glowing sieni.

Behind the one that Rathorin gestured towards are two other carriages with Alvan drivers. They nod politely. Okay, just play it cool. I walk over to the carriage and throw my stuff into it before turning to climb onto the front, taking a cue from how they're all situated. As I take a grip to step up, Rathorin attempts to help again, but I'm already vaulting up.

Oops.

I shouldn't refuse all of his help. It's kind of rude even if I don't need it. He doesn't say anything, though, as he circles around to the other side and climbs on. I watch closely as he clicks and flickers the reins to get the juntta moving. We travel away from the border wall and toward the tunnel which leads out of the large cavern.

He says something else but I take a minute to process what it is. And even longer to come up with a response he'll understand.

"Fine," I say, finally getting out a reply to his question about how my journey was.

He smiles and nods so I smile and nod back. There’s going to be a lot of smiling and nodding in my near future. Bobbleheads, great.

We exit the more brightly lit tunnel and move into interconnected and well worn, tunnel-like caverns. Deep marks in the ground show their heavy use. Rathorin makes stilted small talk just as I would expect when meeting anybody, but the language barrier sure puts a damper on things.

I look him over surreptitiously as he drives. Maybe it's because he looks so different, or maybe I need to get to know him better, but there’s no initial attraction. Probably not a good sign. But that also doesn't mean I should write everything off right away. Maybe I still need more time after Joseph. The thought makes my heart heavy.

It takes a while to reach House Ti'ana, and there isn't a lot of interesting scenery to focus on during the journey, so I spend the time in my head. But as soon as we pass through another brightly lit area, I sit up straight to take in the new cavern.

It's just as massive as the last one, also covered in sieni, and the border walls are built high and wide with floodlights set into them. Though this time, the shapes of the lights are more geometric and the border wall itself is a different hue of a sandstone colored rock.

Rathorin says something that I only catch one word of, welcome, with pride in his voice as we pass through the massive gates leading through the wall. We emerge into the center of what looks like a busy marketplace. Exotics scents, bright colors and patterns, and the chatter of multiple voices speaking Alvan assaults me all at once. I don't know where to look first. Stall after stall filled with unusual looking trinkets and clothes draws my attention as we work through the crowd. I want to stop and look, but Rathorin pushes on.

People stop and stare, smiling and waving. Rathorin returns their greetings with cold nods. I smile back and nod too. Yup, more smiling and nodding.

I realize I never considered that since I matched with a prince, I would become a princess. Now that sounds completely ridiculous. Princess Clara? My mental snort is deafening.

As we pass through the marketplace, my clothes garner an undue amount of attention and not because they're revealing. A lot of the women here seem to favor showing off plenty of skin, but none of them are wearing pants. They all wear silky looking, lightweight dresses and robes.

Hmm.

Even the men seem to prefer the long, gown-like garment Rathorin wears. And while I thought his was bright enough, these people aren't afraid of mixing and matching a lot of even brighter colors in their outfits. They're pretty, but it's a lot to take in. Now I don't just feel under dressed, I feel downright plain. And from the looks they're giving me, I must look as strange to them as they do to me.

By the time we make it to Rathorin's house, my face aches from all the smiling and nodding. He brings the carriage to a stop in a nice courtyard out front. And the place itself is very impressive. The house is massive, built with what looks like the same sand toned rock as the border wall that surrounds the compound. The design is beautiful, built along curved lines, with mosaic details that are gorgeous. It wouldn't look out of place in a desert, which I guess makes sense since it's so hot here. I could stare longer, but there are servants lined up to greet us, their faces openly curious.

Rathorin gesturing toward me and says something that includes “Princess Clara”.

The servants greet me with bows and curtsies and I, you guessed it, smile and nod awkwardly. Ugh. I'm not built for this.

Rathorin speaks again and gestures to a young woman who steps forward with a timid smile. I guess he wants me to go with her, I caught the words tired and bath.

"Thank you, yes," I agree with relief.

Having a moment to myself to process everything would be great.

I follow the pale blue Alvan girl, passing through ornately carved and brightly painted doors and into the house. She leads the way across a massive living area decorated in soft cushions and bright colors, and then through a hall to a large door at the end.

She opens it for me and reveals a bedroom with a massive bed and deep pink and purple fabrics. It's beautiful, though it isn't the color palette I would choose. The furniture is decorated with intricately detailed mosaics, even the window shutters have curving latticework that offers privacy but also room for air to flow in. There's a lot to look at, but my eyes go to the gently steaming bathtub.

The servant speaks in a soft voice, gesturing to the bath and I think asking if I want help.

"No, thank you," I refuse quickly. I can't imagine having someone help me bathe.

She casts her eyes to the floor and gestures again to the bed where I find a laid out gown and slippers. Then she bows and backs out the door, closing it gently.

Setting down my bags, I move over to the bed to look at the clothes. It's a flimsy gown in the same color that Rathorin is wearing. I don't know if I’ll ever be comfortable with matching our outfits, but I don't want to come across as rude. The front goes up to the base of my neck, but the back dives deep and I wonder if it’ll show my ass crack. The skirt is long, but there’s a slit on the side that looks like it might reach my hip. There are some matching panties, and a bra type band in the same color made of a sheer lace. Compared to some of the dresses I saw in the market, it's not nearly as revealing. Thank God. Still, it's not something I would pick for myself, but it’s also not the worst.

When in Rome, I guess?

I turn and let out a long, slow breath. I'm here. Looking at the tub I know my next move because right now a bath sounds wonderful.

I bathe, enjoying the fragrances of the shampoo and soap then step out of the tub, drying off with the nearby cloth. Approaching the clothes, I square my shoulders, steeling my resolve. I look them over again, they're just clothes. I'll be fine. I slip on the underwear first, admitting that the lighter fabric is much more comfortable than what I was wearing.

Now for the dress.

I can tell immediately that even though it technically covers all the important bits, it's not really covering them at all. It's more...showcasing. I would've accused Rathorin of putting me in lingerie if I hadn't seen what all the other women were wearing in the marketplace.

At least it's comfortable.

I slip my feet into the delicate, matching slippers, wishing I could put my boots back on. But they'll look ridiculous with this outfit. As if on cue, the servant girl knocks on the door and opens it, sticking her head in. I wonder if she had her ear to the door the whole time, waiting for me to finish.

She says something about Rathorin and food and my belly grumbles.

"Thank you," I say for the millionth time.

She leads the way and we go back through the common area and into a dining room where a massive variety of food covers a large table. There’s way too much food for only two people. Rathorin stands as I enter and his smile is so wide it shows his fangs. He pulls out a chair and holds it while I take the offered seat.

His eyes take in my body with obvious appreciation and he says something that might be a compliment or might be totally sleazy, I have no idea, but the urge to cover myself is strong.

I need to relax.

He dismisses the servant with a wave of the hand without even looking in her direction.

I frown. Maybe it's a cultural thing. It's probably the American in me that makes that interaction so uncomfortable.

He takes my plate, not waiting to see what I'll choose for myself, and loads it up with a sample from every dish. A rush of irritation makes my skin tingle. I don't like him taking over like this, though I know it's not warranted. He's trying to be nice. I may not like people telling me what to eat, but I also don't know the food yet.

Relax.

I get through the meal with Rathorin trying to keep up a conversation, speaking slowly and clearly with plenty of gestures. I understand some of it and I fill in most of the blanks based on context, but I need to brush up on the language more.

As we finish our food, he stands with a smile and holds his hand out. I smile as I place my hand in his, figuring I should let him help me up if he wants to. Their culture seems old-school and formal and I've already refused his help a few times.

He gestures and I catch the words bed and together.

Uh oh. I'm almost certain that's a euphemism for getting it on. He leads down the hall with my hand on his arm. My mind races trying to come up with a polite way to turn him down. I've never been on a first date with someone while staying at their house.

Fuck it.

I'm just going to have to try and say what I have to say. I stop in front of my bedroom door.

"Rathorin... I... not ready," I say, careful with each word I practiced as we were walking.

I hope I didn't mangle it. His eyes narrow. Maybe I did.

"Not ready?" he repeats, obviously unhappy.

"Want... know you.. first," I say, knowing I'm butchering it but hoping I at least get my point across.

I don't know if the gestures are helping any. I’m like a gorilla attempting to speak. Maybe I should add grunts. His mouth twitches and his jaw tightens, but the expression smooths away in an instant. He gives a slight bow and when he straightens, his eyes are cooler.

As he turns and walks away, I know he's not happy. Great start.

Letting out a deep breath, I open my door and walk inside to sit on the bed. I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this. Which was naive. There will be a cultural learning curve and I never believed in love at first sight, anyway. I'm an adult. I need to just give this time.

As I sit on the bed, mind running with way too many thoughts, I know I won't rest any time soon so I get up and go over to the shutters, throwing them open to look outside. The village is still bustling, though I don't know if it's day or night. There isn't a sun or a clock to go by but because there's still plenty of people out, I'm guessing it's not that late.

I want to go out and explore.

I don't know if that's something I'm supposed to do on my own, but I don't want to make a big thing of it either. Going to the wardrobe I open it, hoping there's something that's a little less eye-catching than what I’m wearing. Color explodes, dazzling my eyes. Digging through I find a darker navy blue, lightweight cover up which I pull on over my dress. At least it won't catch the eye as much.

Opening the door and peeking, I check both sides of the hall. Empty. I leave the room and move down the hall, having changed out of the thin slippers and into the boots I wore here. They still don't match the dress, but they're a lot more comfortable for going out.

I make it out into the courtyard without an issue and the servant outside greets me with nod and a smile though a couple of others frown as I walk out into the village. Why do I feel like a teenager sneaking out of the house? Shaking it off, I make my way to the marketplace while ogling the unfamiliar buildings.

There's a lot of mosaics and carving. The structures themselves are almost light and airy, perforated in unexpected places to allow air to circulate. It's lovely. I pass what appears to be a public bathing house. Interesting. Don't know if I'm up for that, but good to know it's here.

As I make it to the more active marketplace, I realize I'm at about chest level among the Alvan. I'm not used to being so short in a crowd, though I appreciate that it helps me blend in better. I let the flow of people dictate where I'm going, stopping and looking at the wares in each stall. Exotic food, clothes, there’s even a stall that has only bells.

I want to visit everything but one stall catches my eye. It's selling what looks like a variety of swords and knives with different shapes and grips. Interesting. I make my way toward it, wondering how I could go about buying one, when there’s a distinct sound of a scuffle. Frowning, I stop in front of the narrow alleyway where the sounds are coming from.

There’s a younger woman being surrounded by four guys around the same age, but much bigger than her. She has more of a willowy build, though like everyone here, she's tall. I'm guessing the scuffling sound was from them pushing her deeper into the narrow space. I can't move on and do nothing, even if I'll probably get my ass kicked.

Stepping into the alley, I stalk towards them. I don't care what the cultural differences are, there’s no good reason for these guys to be doing what they're doing. All the young men are in bright colored robes like Rathorin's, and the girl is in a plain brown, modest dress constructed of a heavier cloth. The difference sets off alarm bells in my head.

It looks like class snobbery. One man says something and makes a crude gesture. The others chuckle as the woman backs up until she meets the wall. Her frightened eyes and body language are defensive.

Nope, not on my watch.

One of them reaches for her, but I push his hand aside roughly. He frowns, his lip curling.

He says something that I don't understand at all with a sneer. I'm guessing it's not very flattering, whatever it is. I look at the woman who I can now tell is much taller, but she's meek, unused to confrontation. She won’t be any help.

"Go," I say.

At least I won't have to worry about protecting her if she leaves. She looks at me, her eyes wide.

One of the bullies says something with a smirk, his eyes scanning my body. He says another word I don't understand and the others chuckle.

I wish I could translate Alvan swearwords. That will go on my to-do list.

I watch as he reaches and grabs for my wrist. Lifting my arm, I grip under his thumb with one hand and on his knuckles with the other, then twist his arm. He cries out, dropping to his knees, twisting his body to take the pressure off his wrist.

"Bad," I say, the only thing I can think of with the rush of adrenaline and my limited Alvan.

I shake my head as he snarls. The others are laughing at him, and ugly darkness rises in his eyes as rage takes over. Now I've done it. I twist further until he has no choice but to roll over to avoid breaking his wrist. As soon as he's down, I drive a swift punch into his temple. I don't have the leeway to mess around. Pulling back, I get ready to deal with the others.

This will not be pretty and I'm going to lose. I'm outnumbered and they're all bigger than I am. I get ready for the pain.

A deep voice resounds down the alleyway and everyone turns.

"My Prince!" the young woman behind me exclaims.

Hey, prince, I know that word! But this isn’t Rathorin.

The newcomer says something to her in rapid Alvan and she scurries out of the alley. Sure, she'll listen to him. I take a split second to look the new guy over and there’s a stir of interest.

Tall, even taller than Rathorin, he has periwinkle blue skin and rich navy hair he has tied back from his face. His eyes stand out even from this distance, a gleaming amethyst purple. It's clear he isn't a local, his tall, muscled body is covered in heavy brown leather that looks like it could take a beating and still protect him. The young men look like boys in comparison.

As he strides down the alley, the whisper of his sword leaving the scabbard is damn loud. The others look frightened as he closes the distance with a feral look.

They square their shoulders and puff out their chests as they try to show each other they're not afraid. As the bigger Alvan closes in, he frowns at me and jerks his head in the direction the other woman fled.

"Go," he orders, spinning his sword to loosen his wrist.

I've never liked taking orders, especially from someone I don't even know.

"No."

He narrows his violet eyes but doesn't have time to make me do anything as the three men attack at once. And then the guy I put down on the ground growls as he lunges at me.