Page 25 of Alien Prince’s Fake Bride (The Tentacle Throne #1)

- Umbra -

A minute later there are four more female Khavgrens in the tent. They all tower over me, although not as much as Mareliux. They’re all in uniforms, but they’ve taken off their suits of armor and they've brought drinks.

Sigise introduces them all. Two are officers and two are non-coms.

“We don’t use rank in private gatherings like these,” a captain called Garu says. “The prince understands that there aren’t that many women in the army, and the few of us there are must be able to get together informally sometimes.”

“Why aren’t there more of you?” I ask, still overwhelmed by being in the same room with so many of these tentacled aliens.

The women have much smaller tentacles than the males, but they still have something monstrous about them.

At the same time, they’re girls, excited about the wedding and about meeting me.

“Not a lot of girls want to be fighters,” Garu says. “And it is dangerous, so I can’t blame them. For some of us, a soldier is the only thing we ever wanted to be. It’s a good life.”

"Umbra,” the one called Frotarid says seriously, pouring a drink, “I think you should know that we all hate you. I mean, the prince? You’re marrying our prince? There won’t be any left for us! Sure, there are other princes, but they’re not Mareliux! Not even close!” She hands me the glass.

“Maybe you should have watched him better,” I tell her with a sniff. “You let him out of your sight, and I grabbed him. Don’t blame me .”

They all laugh, relieved that I get the joke and that I’m playing along. They never needed to worry — Space Force jokes can be rough, too.

“I know you’re not actually marrying him,” the one called Dispi whispers conspiratorially. “But you’re still much closer than any of us have ever been to it. Oh, you look incredible! Is that a wedding outfit from your planet, Umbra?”

We chat about various wedding traditions and our planets.

It seems that only very few of the soldiers on the base know that the wedding will be a fake one, and these girls are practically all of them.

I let them all touch my hair, which is a feature they’ve only rarely seen, and never from this close.

They marvel at the softness and the texture.

The conversation soon returns to the prince, and I get the impression that everything he told me about the empire is true. He may even have understated his own power. And he certainly never told me he was this popular among his soldiers.

Other soldiers bring more food and drink. I make sure to not touch anything that smells even remotely of alcohol — I need to keep my mind on the mission. That’s what this is. It’s not a fun joyride through the stars. This is about securing Earth’s safety.

After about forty minutes, Sigise ushers the other girls out of the tent like a proper maid of honor.

“Umbra needs her energy for the wedding.” She turns to me.

“What more do you need, Umbra? Just tell me. You’d be surprised at the things I could get you, even here on this desolate planet.

Oh, you wanted a gun, right?” She hands me a black item.

“This is the smallest one I could find. It’s loaded. ”

“Oh my…” It’s a heavy gun, and I have to use both hands to take it out of Sigise’s hands. It’s all metal, about the size of a baseball bat, but angular and dangerous-looking. “This may be too heavy for me. It would ruin my look.”

We decide that I won’t carry a weapon to the altar after all. But I will keep the gun and take it with me to Khav.

“Anything else?” Sigise asks.

“Actually,” I ponder, “my AI is running out of electricity. I wonder if it would be possible to charge her.”

“Electricity?” she asks, puzzled. “For an AI?”

I turn Vera on. “Vera, Sigise may be able to find a way to charge you. Can you tell her AI what you’d need?”

“ Sure. Just an induction coil after my specs.” She starts to talk faster than I can understand, and Sigise’s AI answers in the same way, just with a quick beep that I suspect contains a gigabyte of information.

Sigise calls a soldier and instructs him to get their engineers to make the charger.

We’re in the middle of a discussion about wedding bouquets when someone clears their voice outside.

“May I enter?” someone asks.

It’s a male voice, I notice, old and creaky.

Sigise stiffens. “You can deny anyone entry to your tent, Ambassador.” She keeps her voice low.

“Should I?” I whisper.

She thinks for a moment, brow knotted. “Let him in, but try to make it short. With your permission, I will stay.”

“Please do.” I check that I’m dressed decently. “You may enter!”

Sigise holds the flap open, and a male Khavgren pokes his head in. “May I really? Oh, how gracious.” He steps in, and Sigise drops the flap closed right behind him.

He’s an older male, his tentacles short and pale. He’s wearing gray robes, and he looks thin and bony with a hunched-over stance. His hands and feet are covered by the robes.

“Ambassador Umbra, if I may introduce Quaestor Preniat,” Sigise says stiffly. “A newly arrived Imperial advisor from Khav.”

The man looks me up and down, pale eyes never meeting mine. “Greetings, Ambassador. Oh, she doesn’t speak Khavgrese herself? Relying on an AI to talk for her? How quaint and puzzling. ‘Offensive’, some would say. I wouldn’t dream of using that word, myself.”

“Greetings, Quaestor,” I reply, unsure about how to deal with this one. “How can I help you?”

His gaze sticks to my chest. “Help me , Ambassador? Oh no, I am in no need of help. But I thought I’d see if you were really ready for the wedding which I understand is to take place very soon. We were all so surprised to hear of it.”

“I think I’m ready,” I tell him. “It will be a simple ceremony.”

He tilts his head. “Again, how puzzling. I mean, that the prince would want a simple ceremony so far from Khav itself. Getting married among his most loyal troops. One might think he had something to hide. Not me, of course. I’m firmly convinced that everything is the way it should be.

Am I right in that, Ambassador Umbra from…

? I’m sorry, I don’t think I know which of our Imperial planets you represent. ”

“I don’t represent any Imperial planet,” I tell him coldly, his words and manner not endearing him to me. “I’m surprised you didn’t know that, Quaestor. The term ‘Ambassador’ implies someone who represents a foreign power. In my case, planet Earth.”

“It does imply an outsider,” the man says smoothly.

“An alien, even. Imagine the prince picking an alien for a wife. Perhaps our own females simply aren’t good enough.

Eh, Colonel?” He turns his head to Sigise.

“Oh, did you take your armor off? Out of uniform, in the alien’s tent? Is that appropriate for an officer?”

“The prince ordered me to keep his betrothed safe and comfortable, sir,” Sigise says stiffly. “I found the battle armor too ungainly to wear when helping the Ambassador with everything.”

“Ah. Colonel Grast finds the uniform too ungainly to wear when doing light duties in a tent . I will keep that in mind when I return to the Emperor on Khav. I must also remember to report that the ambassador, the prince’s alien betrothed, was immediately closely attended to by Colonel Grast, the most famous shock trooper on Grefve, more known for her great battle victories than her diplomatic skills.

Most unusual. One might be tempted to ask why .

” The quaestor turns back to me, his gaze now focused on my hips.

“I won’t ask why, of course. But I will ask, if I may, Ambassador, are you normal size for your species?

You seem quite short, if you’ll excuse my blunt observation.

You’re very… round . In the most delightful way, of course.

Some would call you spherical . Not me, though. Not at all.”

I decide that I don’t like this guy one bit. He’s nasty and dangerous . I should get rid of him as soon as I can.

I sit down on the lowest bench, so that I won’t dangle my legs. “Compliment accepted,” I state. “If there’s nothing more, Quaestor? I have a busy day ahead. I am getting married, you see.”

He gives my chest a barren smile. “A busy day, marrying a prince, the heir to the Khavgren Empire. I wish I knew more about your planet, Ambassador. Because perhaps soon, our empress will be an alien from a place nobody’s ever heard of.

‘Earth’, wasn’t it? I’m afraid that while I’m sure the Earthish Empire is very large and glorious, nobody in our Empire has ever heard of it.

And some will worry about an alien having the power of an empress.

And about the next generation of emperors being half aliens.

If it’s even possible for your species and ours to have offspring. It seems unlikely, doesn’t it?”

I want to snap something nasty right back, but I realize that’s a fight I can’t win against this snake. So I simply give him a little smile. “Thank you for your visit. I hope that in time, you can let go of your groundless worries.”

The quaestor gathers his robes around him. “It’s not me who’s worried. It’s the Emperor Craxallo. I shall of course let him know that you find his concerns about the future of his Empire ‘groundless’. I’m sure he will be so relieved.” He turns to leave.

Sigise opens the flap for him.

He turns again. “Oh, Ambassador. Please forgive this old romantic if his questions are too personal. But how did you meet the prince? I’m sure there must be a sweet story behind it. Was there a reception, perhaps? A diplomatic event that the prince told nobody about?”

Damn. Mareliux and I should have agreed on a story about that. Because ‘he abducted me and we agreed I’d pretend to marry him in exchange for all kinds of military aid’ isn’t something I want to say.

I feign surprise. “Oh, didn’t the prince tell you already? I’m surprised. Perhaps he wants that private experience to remain private. I better not say anything that he wouldn’t want you to know. I wonder why, though. Does he not trust you, Quaestor?”

The man stares at my hair. “I’m afraid the prince hasn’t had time to talk to anyone but his close friend, the general of this base.

They have been in secret talks since he arrived.

Which is strange, since this legion is not in battle and no enemy activity has been spotted here for some time.

One wonders what they’re talking about that must be so secret and so urgent.

It all seems almost conspirative, don’t you think?

Good morning, Ambassador.” He finally leaves.

Sigise drops the tent flap closed. “He arrived just before you did. A special envoy of the Emperor, apparently. Nobody knew he was coming until he was here.”

“Will he be a problem?” I ask, not feeling great about that guy.

“Perhaps,” Sigise says, glaring at the tent flap where the man just stood.

“He may be just what he seems: an envoy who has been told to find out what’s going on.

The wedding is sudden. Especially for a royal event.

It’s not surprising that the Emperor wants to know what’s behind it.

But Quaestor Preniat is out in the open.

I would worry more about a spy we don’t know about. If there is one.”