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“Are you all right?” Jaryk asked on their way to his private suite.

“Yes, I think so.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. I’d hoped to avoid that situation.”

“It would have happened sooner or later.”

“Yes, but not in front of you.”

“Better to know what I’m facing,” she said. An angry king.

Her legs wobbled like rubber. Jaryk’s father had intimidated the hell out of her. She’d hoped to make a good impression on her father-in-law—instead, she could have ended up in the dungeon. The king was not a man to be thwarted.

Except, Jaryk had. Her estimation of her new husband rose by another notch. She recalled how he’d put himself between her and the king.

“Your mother seemed more…measured.”

“Don’t underestimate her. She has a spine of steel. She has more finesse than my father, but she is just as formidable. Maybe more. I would rather cross him than her.”

“Oh great. Maybe, this wasn’t such a good idea.” She’d tried to make the best of things but found herself in the middle of a family drama and a delicate political situation.

He squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t worry. The wedding surprised them, that’s all. They’ll get over it. They’ve had plenty of practice adjusting to Falkor’s shenanigans. I give you my word, nothing bad will happen to you.”

It’s only for a year. I can handle a year. Could she?

“Here’s my suite. Our suite.”

They’d arrived much sooner than she’d expected. When they weren’t taking a circuitous route to avoid being seen, the palace didn’t seem quite so huge.

No, it’s huge— she revised her opinion again as soon as she entered a foyer larger than her apartment on Earth.

His suite has a fricking foyer! A mosaic of jewels formed the crest of Kaldor in the floor.

Overhead—way overhead—a mural adorned the soaring ceiling.

A dazzling chandelier floated in the space.

All this for a few bedrooms and bath? “How many rooms do you have?”

“Only fourteen,” he said. “Not counting the bathing chambers. There are four of those.”

“You need four bathrooms?”

“There are four bedrooms,” he said.

“But you live here alone?”

“Until now.” He grinned.

The sisters had shared a two-bedroom, one-bath unit—five rooms total if you included the small alcove off the parlor the landlord called a dining room.

The suite she’d been granted at the palace had three rooms—a large sitting area, a place to sleep, and Karma’s “closet,” which had been larger than her bedroom at home.

“I’ll give you a tour.”

“I think I might need a map,” she said.

He led her through his residence graced by tapestries, artwork, and murals. There were three separate sitting areas, one of which doubled as a “small” library. “I am studying ancient Kaldoran, and I like to practice in here so I can speak it privately. No one to notice my flubs,” he said.

“I remember your profile said you were studying the old language.”

“And you married me anyway,” he said with self-mocking humor. “Most people think it’s pretty boring.”

“Oh, no. I liked that. I’ve been learning Latin, an old Earth language that isn’t spoken anymore.”

“Is that the language you used when you spoke to your sister at the wedding?” he guessed.

“Yes.” Her mouth quirked. “ Eo te occidere . I told her I was going to kill her.”

“Understandable. I have a sibling, too,” he said. “But why?”

“For making it awkward—insisting we kiss.”

“The kiss was awkward? My apologies. I’d gotten the impression that it was traditional in your culture, and I wished to make it less awkward.”

“No, the kiss was…nice.” His nearness and touch had caused her heart to flutter and her lips to tingle.

She’d had to restrain herself from leaning in, parting her lips, and…

“But we hadn’t talked about it, and I didn’t know if it would be uncomfortable for you.

Kissing to seal the vows is traditional but not required. ”

“Well, I didn’t mind. It was, as you say, nice.”

They passed a glassed-in atrium large enough to be considered an actual garden containing trees, flowers, grass, alien birds, a small pond, and benches for sitting.

“If you use the atrium, be sure to keep the door closed,” he said.

“I left it open once, and it took days to get the flitteries out of the suite.”

“Got it.” She smiled.

“This is where I sleep.” He stepped into a gigantic bedroom fit for a king. He strode to the enormous bed dressed in rich fabrics, pressed a button on an elaborate console, and retracted the ceiling, revealing a glass dome. “At night, you can see the stars.”

Was this where she would sleep? Sleeping arrangements hadn’t been one of their prenuptial discussions. Didn’t “marriage of convenience” equate to “no sex”?

If their marriage had been real, she would expect that they would become intimate—after they got to know each other.

But their marriage was temporary and fake.

The perfunctory wedding kiss had been purely ceremonial.

If her heart had raced a little, well, that was due to the awkwardness of the situation.

“Your room is over here,” he said to her disappointment-tinged relief.

Did Kaldoran couples not share a room and bed, or had separate sleeping quarters been arranged because theirs wasn’t a real marriage?

Was this his not-so-subtle way of avoiding the possibility of intimacy?

It would be problematic if he expected sex immediately, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to be wanted.

She followed him through a door into an adjoining room equally spacious and opulent. “Your ceiling opens, too.” He pressed a button on the bedside console to show her and then closed it again.

“Cool!” She looked forward to watching the stars at night. She figured the constellations must be different in this part of the galaxy.

“Bath is through there.” He pointed.

She took a peek inside. The shower was as big as her entire apartment bathroom. “Three showerheads?” she asked.

“One for water, one for cleanser, one for moisturizing,” he explained.

“Okay…” She pictured herself going through a car wash.

“Your clothes have already been put away in the wardrobe.”

She wasn’t sure how she felt about servants handling her stuff. Not that she had anything to hide, but it was weird to be tended to. To have servants.

He opened a panel to reveal her clothing, neat and forlorn in the ginormous space. She’d worried she’d overpacked, but the closet made it look like she’d brought hardly anything.

“Good,” she said, at a loss for words. “What’s next?”

“Dining room. Lunch.” He shut the panel and left the bedroom, stepping into the outside hall. He pointed to a door at the end. “That leads to the servants’ quarters.”

“For the entire palace or just yours?”

“Just mine.”

“How many servants do you have?” She walked beside him.

“Four. Two housekeepers, a valet who helps me dress, and a butler who serves the meals I order from the palace kitchen and does a myriad of other tasks for me. I couldn’t get along without him.”

After what she’d observed so far, she imagined there were many tasks requiring the attention of a personal butler. And, for the size of his unit, two housekeepers seemed a little light. But a valet? “You get help getting dressed?”

“You think I’m a pampered little prince unable to do things for himself?”

“Uh, no, of course not!” Her face flamed.

“I’m teasing.” A devastating grin transformed his face from handsome to knockout gorgeous.

He is so out of my league. And not because of his looks—although a man as handsome as him would never pick a woman of average looks whose smile was slightly right of center—but because he was a crown prince and loaded.

She was a penniless nobody. The class and culture differences seemed as vast as the universe.

“I do dress myself—it is one of my skills—except for ceremonial occasions, which require intricate special dress. I do need help with that.”

The dining room shouldn’t have surprised her, except it did.

A golden etched ceiling curved over a long table with seating for fourteen .

Clear stones sparkled like diamonds in the floating chandeliers.

Two place settings had been arranged, one at each end of the enormous table.

“This isn’t the main dining hall, right? ” she asked.

“No, this is my private one,” he replied.

Of course it is.

A uniformed alien stood at attention next to a trolley. The butler. she presumed.

“Good afternoon, Your Highness,” he said.

“Good afternoon, Lewen,” Jaryk said. “May I introduce my wife, Kismet Kennedy of Earth.”

Had the butler known of the marriage? He didn’t even blink an eye. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Kismet Kennedy.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.”

“I am here to serve you. Should you need anything, do not hesitate to call upon me.”

She couldn’t imagine what that would be. She didn’t need anything—and yet needed everything. She was a stranger in a strange land. “Thank you.”

Lewen pulled out her chair—a heavy gilded throne with ornate arms—before seating Jaryk at the other end of the table. Then he served the meal to the prince before traveling the length of the long table to serve her.

Savory aromas wafted up from the food. She hadn’t been at the palace long enough to have eaten many meals, but the food she’d tried had been delicious. Every meal was chef’s surprise. Nothing resembled anything she’d eaten on Earth.

“You may leave us and return for the trolley later, Lewen,” Jaryk said.

“As you wish. Enjoy your meal, Your Highness, Kismet Kennedy.”

“Please, call me Kismet,” she said.

“My apologies. I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he said and left them to their meal.

“Please, begin.” Jaryk picked up his fork.

The acoustics were great; she had no problem hearing him, but the distance was silly. She started to ask permission if she could join him at his end of the table and then stopped herself. Screw that. She was his wife in name only, but what the hell!

She picked up her plate and utensils, set them next to him, and sat down. “You don’t really eat dinner all by yourself at this big table, do you?”

“Quite often, I do. Sometimes my brother eats with me, or I go to his quarters. Maybe once a week, we join our parents in their apartment, and then there are banquets in the main dining hall I’m required to attend.”

“How many can be seated in the main dining hall?”

“A hundred and fifty maybe?”

“A hundred and fifty?” She gasped.

“More or less.”

“It must be a long room.”

“The table is an open rectangle with the family and any high-ranking guest at the head, and the other guests along the sides.”

“I assume staff organize those banquets.”

“Of course—but they consult with my mother on her wishes and the guest list. I suspect it is a lot of work for her.”

She suspected it was, too. Jaryk would be king someday, and banquet responsibility would fall to his wife, the future queen. Thankfully, she wouldn’t be around for that. She felt in over her head without any responsibilities.

But loss and regret panged. One year from now, they’d part ways, and they’d never see each other again. Don’t get attached. It’s okay to like him, but don’t fall in love.

“Again, I apologize for my father’s behavior.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not, but that’s the way he is. That’s what I’m up against.” He paused. “He has his good moments, though. And he is a fair and just ruler. He cares for the people of Kaldor. He is 100 percent dedicated to them.”

Which is why arranging a political marriage is so important. No wonder he got so angry. And adding insult to injury, he was blindsided.

She had nothing to offer the people of Kaldor.

“For the good of the kingdom, I probably should have married Alia,” he said, echoing her thoughts. “And I’d intended to.”

“But you didn’t.”

“My father and mother love each other deeply. They are devoted to each other. My father would give up the kingdom for her. Though they don’t realize it, they set an example. My brother and I desire what they have.”

And I’m not it. She heard what he didn’t say—she couldn’t provide the love he sought but hopefully would clear the obstacles to him getting it. She’d agreed to the arrangement. But she felt like he’d stuck a knife between her ribs.

Although finding a love match through Cosmic Mates had been a gamble, it had been possible until she discovered she’d been misled about the true reason for the marriage.

Not to mention, Karma had deleted other potential candidates before she’d seen them.

What if one of them had been her soulmate?

The deck had been stacked against her. Like the king, she’d been blindsided.

She’d given up her chance for love to give Jaryk a chance with someone else.

Shouldn’t altruism feel better than this?

At least it’s only for a year. It’s not a lifetime commitment.

But that didn’t feel good either.

“There is a ball at the palace soon,” Jaryk said. “We will be required to attend.”

“Oh, okay.” She was intimidated, imagining a grand, formal affair steeped in unfamiliar tradition and etiquette.

Not only would she not know how to behave, her clothing would be inadequate.

She fingered the skirt of her wedding dress.

The nicest garment she owned, it was far from formal. Not appropriate for a fancy ball.

Would there be dancing? Of course, there would—it was a ball . She doubted the Kaldorans waltzed or rhumbaed; she wouldn’t know any of the dance moves.

“The ball was intended to announce my engagement to Alia, but now my parents will announce our marriage.”

Oh, my god. Can it get any worse? She rubbed her temple.

“Are you all right?”

Just a little terrified. “This is a bit more than I anticipated. I won’t know how to act. What’s appropriate, what’s not. I won’t know anybody.”

“I understand how you feel.”

She doubted he did. He’d been born into this.

“Since you’re new to Kaldor and the royal lifestyle, you’ll be tutored in expectations and etiquette.

I’m sure the ball will be addressed. I promise you won’t be alone at the event.

I’ll be by your side the whole time. Falkor will be there, too.

You won’t have to do much except greet people and make small talk. ”

An introvert’s nightmare.

“I don’t have the right clothes…” She grasped at straws, trying to get out of this.

“Not a problem. Lewen will have the palace tailors take care of it.”

“Great.” She fake-smiled. What have I gotten myself into?