Page 23
Story: Crown Prince's Mate
And in those icy blue orbs I see only one thing.
Ownership.
7
PRINCE DOMAN
Three straight hours of negotiation, starting easily, then working out deals that will have consequences that will span eons. Adriana does not say a word the entire time. She simply watches me, her eyes flashing in defiance, no longer hiding it to the others.
That is fine.
As long as she plays the part to her peoples, then here, among the officials who would not spill a word of her ire, I will accept her open hatred.
Finally, I raise my hands in mock submission. “There can be no retroactive revocation of royalties.”
“This is not retroactive. We’re still in the middle of installation, but it is not complete. Therefore, the first fee structure is not yet triggered, and pending payments have no legal basis,” says Lysandra of Terosa. I’m beginning to like her. She’ll fight endlessly to secure every last drop of blood for her people, and negotiating with her is like a verbal sparring match.
“I’ll transfer you off to our teams of accountants. I’m sure they’ll hate me for it,” I say, and she smiles easily in response, taking it as a great compliment. The people of Terosa havea reputation for ruthless traders. “And yes, Tabitha of Virelia, the medical bays will be the first priority. I would adjourn this meeting.”
“Meeting adjourned,” says Adriana curtly, waving her hand. The feed ends.
Titus reaches over the table and takes his chain, clasping it around his neck. “I feel fucking naked without this,” he says, stretching. His aura was a pool of frustration through the entire negotiations. He is at home on the battlefield, and he was silently urging me to end the deals and leave it to the professionals the entire time.
“I needed to show the planetary representatives I am more than just a general, Titus. The deals were well made.”
Gallien did not speak the entire time, his aura a cold, steel line. I had been about to take the meeting in our throne room, but at the last minute, he insisted we move to a humble data processing room, clearing out the technicians. No need to throw the monarchy in their faces.
“Are you mad, Doman?” He cocks his head, his cold gray eyes staring through me.
“I know. The betrothal rituals. What’s the worst that can happen? Frosthold, where the bride-to-be chooses a beast for her suitor to slay? I’ve killed Scorp Queens. Whatever frost wyrm she sends me off to hunt, they won’t be a match for our blades.”
“Did you forget what you said?She may try to wriggle out of this yet.She had the subtlety of a boot to the face.”
“We had no other choice. She was willing to resign if we did not accept. The deal would have been finished.”
“And a new Prime Minister would have been elected, one willing to compromise. You saw the greed in their eyes. They were practically begging,” says Gallien, his voice cold.
“And that would have taken time. Time we don’t have to waste.” The blank white walls of the data center confine me, andI get up, needing to move. Titus clasps the platinum cuff around his wrist, stretching his arms up, and we stride into the hallways.
Titus scowls. “How long will the fucking rituals take? We should be fighting against Obsidian, not playing as suitors serenading a lass.”
“Wait,” says Gallien. We all stop in the hallways. A triad of soldiers turns the corners, sees the look on my face, and turns tail.
“What, Gallien?”
“We drag this out. We can delay the rituals. Finish the Planet Killer tests before we’ve faced the first trial. I’m telling you, Doman, she’s got a plan to stop this wedding. Failing the rituals triggers the end of the deal—but if we slow down this process, six months, a year, before the first…”
“No. The nationalists of their people need this marriage. We do not delay.”
“Tell it to me straight, Doman. Did tasting her scent cloud your judgment?” Gallien looks up at me, his cold, hard, gray eyes calculating.
I remember her scent, as if it is in my nostrils now, and my muscles tense. Every instinct in me tells me to march down to her ship, to break down the doors, to grab her and kiss her, deep, to feel her body react to mine.
“No. Frosthold and Magnar have dangerous rites. Rites meant to stop a human, but not us. We will triumph over whatever she puts in our way. But you are right, Gallien. Her scent did affect me. I will not lie. There is no universe where she is not our bride. There is no possibility that Adriana is not wed to me.” My certainty pulses through the Bond.
I press on.
“She already hated us. This marriage will push her away. It will reinforce her worst beliefs. At first. But Gallien, you were right. Three years is a long time for a human. She will see who weare, and what we stand for. She cares for her people, and we care for ours. Our destinies are linked. There is no escaping fate.”
Ownership.
7
PRINCE DOMAN
Three straight hours of negotiation, starting easily, then working out deals that will have consequences that will span eons. Adriana does not say a word the entire time. She simply watches me, her eyes flashing in defiance, no longer hiding it to the others.
That is fine.
As long as she plays the part to her peoples, then here, among the officials who would not spill a word of her ire, I will accept her open hatred.
Finally, I raise my hands in mock submission. “There can be no retroactive revocation of royalties.”
“This is not retroactive. We’re still in the middle of installation, but it is not complete. Therefore, the first fee structure is not yet triggered, and pending payments have no legal basis,” says Lysandra of Terosa. I’m beginning to like her. She’ll fight endlessly to secure every last drop of blood for her people, and negotiating with her is like a verbal sparring match.
“I’ll transfer you off to our teams of accountants. I’m sure they’ll hate me for it,” I say, and she smiles easily in response, taking it as a great compliment. The people of Terosa havea reputation for ruthless traders. “And yes, Tabitha of Virelia, the medical bays will be the first priority. I would adjourn this meeting.”
“Meeting adjourned,” says Adriana curtly, waving her hand. The feed ends.
Titus reaches over the table and takes his chain, clasping it around his neck. “I feel fucking naked without this,” he says, stretching. His aura was a pool of frustration through the entire negotiations. He is at home on the battlefield, and he was silently urging me to end the deals and leave it to the professionals the entire time.
“I needed to show the planetary representatives I am more than just a general, Titus. The deals were well made.”
Gallien did not speak the entire time, his aura a cold, steel line. I had been about to take the meeting in our throne room, but at the last minute, he insisted we move to a humble data processing room, clearing out the technicians. No need to throw the monarchy in their faces.
“Are you mad, Doman?” He cocks his head, his cold gray eyes staring through me.
“I know. The betrothal rituals. What’s the worst that can happen? Frosthold, where the bride-to-be chooses a beast for her suitor to slay? I’ve killed Scorp Queens. Whatever frost wyrm she sends me off to hunt, they won’t be a match for our blades.”
“Did you forget what you said?She may try to wriggle out of this yet.She had the subtlety of a boot to the face.”
“We had no other choice. She was willing to resign if we did not accept. The deal would have been finished.”
“And a new Prime Minister would have been elected, one willing to compromise. You saw the greed in their eyes. They were practically begging,” says Gallien, his voice cold.
“And that would have taken time. Time we don’t have to waste.” The blank white walls of the data center confine me, andI get up, needing to move. Titus clasps the platinum cuff around his wrist, stretching his arms up, and we stride into the hallways.
Titus scowls. “How long will the fucking rituals take? We should be fighting against Obsidian, not playing as suitors serenading a lass.”
“Wait,” says Gallien. We all stop in the hallways. A triad of soldiers turns the corners, sees the look on my face, and turns tail.
“What, Gallien?”
“We drag this out. We can delay the rituals. Finish the Planet Killer tests before we’ve faced the first trial. I’m telling you, Doman, she’s got a plan to stop this wedding. Failing the rituals triggers the end of the deal—but if we slow down this process, six months, a year, before the first…”
“No. The nationalists of their people need this marriage. We do not delay.”
“Tell it to me straight, Doman. Did tasting her scent cloud your judgment?” Gallien looks up at me, his cold, hard, gray eyes calculating.
I remember her scent, as if it is in my nostrils now, and my muscles tense. Every instinct in me tells me to march down to her ship, to break down the doors, to grab her and kiss her, deep, to feel her body react to mine.
“No. Frosthold and Magnar have dangerous rites. Rites meant to stop a human, but not us. We will triumph over whatever she puts in our way. But you are right, Gallien. Her scent did affect me. I will not lie. There is no universe where she is not our bride. There is no possibility that Adriana is not wed to me.” My certainty pulses through the Bond.
I press on.
“She already hated us. This marriage will push her away. It will reinforce her worst beliefs. At first. But Gallien, you were right. Three years is a long time for a human. She will see who weare, and what we stand for. She cares for her people, and we care for ours. Our destinies are linked. There is no escaping fate.”
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