Page 40
Story: Crown Prince's Mate
“We shall see.”
Titus stands from his throne, taking his place at the right of Doman. That is where he looks most natural. Though he is a head shorter than the crown prince, he is broad, towering over seven feet tall, but for the first time, he looks unfinished.
The massive beast, the killing machine, with a black, unruly mess of hair that makes him look like a barbarian warlord. But his eyes are slate-gray, gleaming unknowably against his marbleskin, and only Bonding us together will change that, only I can add the splash of color that will complete him. “Is it the Bond, Adriana, that you hate the most?”
I shiver. “The Bond scares me. I won’t pretend it doesn’t.”
Gallien moves like liquid, one moment on the throne, the next crossing over to stand to Doman’s left. He looks strangely complete, assured of himself. He may be shorter than the other two, but I’ve seen the dominance that flows from him. The other two want to conquer me, but he craves something… darker.
“The Bond will not change you. It will only make you more… you. Every day we waste unbonded is a sacrifice. Your lifespan is human, Adriana. We can change that. Every minute you lose, every second, you can’t get it back. Bond with us, and don’t let them slip away like sand.” His voice has sorrow in it, and I understand his deepest fear. It is not that I will refuse the Bond and he will die never bearing natural sons.
It is that I will refuse and my life will flicker out while he continues, each day wracked with the guilt that he could not convince me to link himself to me. I have two great-grandparents alive yet, near a hundred years old, but even a century is a blink to these aliens. They spent a hundred years in Academy alone.
“We were not meant to live so long. Your species lives thousands of years, but what do you create? What great art? You used to make things of beauty. Architecture, statues, these thrones. But Colossus was built so long ago, and you could not create it anew. You are a species in stagnation. Even the cryo-bays that bear your young. Each copy is a mirror of the last, but weaker.”
“Our greatest works came from the age of Bonding. There is a new one, now, and you are part of this.”
I tense. The three titans across from me are standing, shock still, but what I am about to say will enrage Doman. “Either it isthe Bond, or the unnaturally long life, but humanity becomes… warped, when linked with your species.”
“What do you mean?” Doman’s striking blue eyes narrow.
“I do not believe that when Queen Jasmine was just a scrapper on Bugra, before the Bond corrupted her mind, that she would take a pregnant woman captive. Your family, and you, are keeping an innocent woman prisoner.”
“It is necessary.” His eyes harden, an icy wall between us. It is subtle, but the three Aurelians shift ever so slightly, their stance widening nearly imperceptibly, their hands ever so slightly closer to the hilts of their blades. They would not draw on me, I know that, but it is telling that at the first sign of tension, their instinct is the battle-stance.
“Necessary. Yes. Fay lets you keep track of Obsidian, and with his growing power, it has never been more necessary. So you agree with it?”
“I don’t like it.”
I search his eyes, trying to see if he knows the full truth. If he does, I can never be with him. If he does, then he is so alien to me that even understanding every inch of his being will never bridge the chasm between us. “Doman… you aren’t a liar. But you can’t accept the truth. I have to believe you don’t know what’s going to happen, or else you’re as evil as she is.”
His jaw clenches. I doubt anyone has insulted his Queen Mother in front of him. No one would dare.
“Speak,” he orders, his word a harsh command.
“Queen Jasmine is not going to let the baby live. When Fay bears Obsidian’s son, she will slit the child’s throat.”
Doman steps back. His eyes flash with anger. “Lies.”
I lean forward on the throne. “She made the mistake once before. Her triad slew General Asmod. That is how they took the throne. But she did not root out his seed, she did not salt the earth. And Obsidian grew. He threatens everything she loves.Deep down, you know it’s true. When you win this war, when Obsidian is slain, she will not let another grow.”
“That is my mother.” His hand is clenched around the hilt of his blade.
“You pride yourself on never lying. Tell me, then, Doman. Give me your word of honor, you are certain she will let that baby live.”
He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it, his bright blue eyes clouded.
“You’re complicit in this, Doman. You. When I felt your aura, I felt a man who would do anything to win his war. And whatever you think you are, that is your core. And that is why I will never give myself to you. I will never, ever be yours.”
I get up from the throne, jumping down, and suddenly the three huge beasts of Aurelians tower over me once more. I face their three hard, angry gazes, and I keep my head high. They break open their ranks, and I walk through them and to the doors.
Doman barks out an order, and the doors are flung open, and I leave the throne room, leaving the icy chill behind me.
14
FAY
Isit in the chair, deep underground, exhausted. My body is sore, and my mind is dull. I don’t even leave for the daily walk, surrounded by Aurelian soldiers. I’ve refused for the last week, and I stare out at the double mirrors that reflect me back. I am always watched. Always monitored. This medical bay is my jail cell. IVs run from my arm to the wall. I tried to eat, for the sake of my baby, but I couldn’t force anything down. They hooked me up to a nutrient drip.
Titus stands from his throne, taking his place at the right of Doman. That is where he looks most natural. Though he is a head shorter than the crown prince, he is broad, towering over seven feet tall, but for the first time, he looks unfinished.
The massive beast, the killing machine, with a black, unruly mess of hair that makes him look like a barbarian warlord. But his eyes are slate-gray, gleaming unknowably against his marbleskin, and only Bonding us together will change that, only I can add the splash of color that will complete him. “Is it the Bond, Adriana, that you hate the most?”
I shiver. “The Bond scares me. I won’t pretend it doesn’t.”
Gallien moves like liquid, one moment on the throne, the next crossing over to stand to Doman’s left. He looks strangely complete, assured of himself. He may be shorter than the other two, but I’ve seen the dominance that flows from him. The other two want to conquer me, but he craves something… darker.
“The Bond will not change you. It will only make you more… you. Every day we waste unbonded is a sacrifice. Your lifespan is human, Adriana. We can change that. Every minute you lose, every second, you can’t get it back. Bond with us, and don’t let them slip away like sand.” His voice has sorrow in it, and I understand his deepest fear. It is not that I will refuse the Bond and he will die never bearing natural sons.
It is that I will refuse and my life will flicker out while he continues, each day wracked with the guilt that he could not convince me to link himself to me. I have two great-grandparents alive yet, near a hundred years old, but even a century is a blink to these aliens. They spent a hundred years in Academy alone.
“We were not meant to live so long. Your species lives thousands of years, but what do you create? What great art? You used to make things of beauty. Architecture, statues, these thrones. But Colossus was built so long ago, and you could not create it anew. You are a species in stagnation. Even the cryo-bays that bear your young. Each copy is a mirror of the last, but weaker.”
“Our greatest works came from the age of Bonding. There is a new one, now, and you are part of this.”
I tense. The three titans across from me are standing, shock still, but what I am about to say will enrage Doman. “Either it isthe Bond, or the unnaturally long life, but humanity becomes… warped, when linked with your species.”
“What do you mean?” Doman’s striking blue eyes narrow.
“I do not believe that when Queen Jasmine was just a scrapper on Bugra, before the Bond corrupted her mind, that she would take a pregnant woman captive. Your family, and you, are keeping an innocent woman prisoner.”
“It is necessary.” His eyes harden, an icy wall between us. It is subtle, but the three Aurelians shift ever so slightly, their stance widening nearly imperceptibly, their hands ever so slightly closer to the hilts of their blades. They would not draw on me, I know that, but it is telling that at the first sign of tension, their instinct is the battle-stance.
“Necessary. Yes. Fay lets you keep track of Obsidian, and with his growing power, it has never been more necessary. So you agree with it?”
“I don’t like it.”
I search his eyes, trying to see if he knows the full truth. If he does, I can never be with him. If he does, then he is so alien to me that even understanding every inch of his being will never bridge the chasm between us. “Doman… you aren’t a liar. But you can’t accept the truth. I have to believe you don’t know what’s going to happen, or else you’re as evil as she is.”
His jaw clenches. I doubt anyone has insulted his Queen Mother in front of him. No one would dare.
“Speak,” he orders, his word a harsh command.
“Queen Jasmine is not going to let the baby live. When Fay bears Obsidian’s son, she will slit the child’s throat.”
Doman steps back. His eyes flash with anger. “Lies.”
I lean forward on the throne. “She made the mistake once before. Her triad slew General Asmod. That is how they took the throne. But she did not root out his seed, she did not salt the earth. And Obsidian grew. He threatens everything she loves.Deep down, you know it’s true. When you win this war, when Obsidian is slain, she will not let another grow.”
“That is my mother.” His hand is clenched around the hilt of his blade.
“You pride yourself on never lying. Tell me, then, Doman. Give me your word of honor, you are certain she will let that baby live.”
He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it, his bright blue eyes clouded.
“You’re complicit in this, Doman. You. When I felt your aura, I felt a man who would do anything to win his war. And whatever you think you are, that is your core. And that is why I will never give myself to you. I will never, ever be yours.”
I get up from the throne, jumping down, and suddenly the three huge beasts of Aurelians tower over me once more. I face their three hard, angry gazes, and I keep my head high. They break open their ranks, and I walk through them and to the doors.
Doman barks out an order, and the doors are flung open, and I leave the throne room, leaving the icy chill behind me.
14
FAY
Isit in the chair, deep underground, exhausted. My body is sore, and my mind is dull. I don’t even leave for the daily walk, surrounded by Aurelian soldiers. I’ve refused for the last week, and I stare out at the double mirrors that reflect me back. I am always watched. Always monitored. This medical bay is my jail cell. IVs run from my arm to the wall. I tried to eat, for the sake of my baby, but I couldn’t force anything down. They hooked me up to a nutrient drip.
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