Page 41 of Alien Prince’s Fake Bride (The Tentacle Throne #1)

- Mareliux -

“That’s incredible,” Umbra gasps when we stand at the hatch of the ship that took us down from the Gladiux . “It’s all white and shiny!”

I allow myself a tight smile. The sight of planet Khav, the center of the Empire, has impressed many with its architecture and elegance.

The slender spires, the graceful arches everywhere, the mix of modern and ancient, the subdued colors, all kept harmonious through the ages — it impresses me too, every time I see it.

“It looks good in sunlight,” I agree.

I take her hand and walk down the walkway to the small group of people waiting.

I recognize my mother, the Empress Juriniel, my brother Nerox, Quaestor Preniat, and a couple of officials, probably from the Alien Office because of Umbra.

Behind them there’s a much larger group, mostly generals and security people.

I spot Colonel Grast among them. All right, that must mean that the extraction team is ready if needed.

I feel myself shifting into political mode. And my instincts tell me I should keep them all waiting in a subtle display of power.

Halfway down, I stop and simply look out at our capital city. I haven’t been here for a long time, and I also want Umbra to get a better look. “What do you think?”

Broad, paved avenues stretch out like veins across the sprawling cityscape, reminiscent of ancient thoroughfares yet flawlessly maintained.

Colossal structures of gleaming white stone and bronze rise majestically, adorned with intricate friezes depicting scenes of imperial glory and mythical figures.

Ornate fountains, sculpted with strong realism, cast shimmering rainbows in the filtered light, their gentle splashing a counterpoint to the hum of sky transports gliding silently along designated sky-lanes.

“It’s very pretty,” Umbra says, touching my shoulder in a display of affection because now we have an audience. “Is it all like this?”

“Most of it,” I tell her. “We had centuries to build it up, and nobody’s come to tear it down. And if I get my way, nobody ever will.” I lower my voice. “Those waiting for us are my mother, the Empress Juriniel, and my brother, Prince Nerox.”

“And Preniat,” Umbra says. “I did expect that.”

“All the worst slikes are here,” I growl. “But just do what we talked about, and everything will be good. Laugh as if I said something funny.”

She does, a bright, trilling laugh as she lightly slaps my upper arm.

“Good,” I praise her. “This will work out well.”

We walk all the way down. I give the Empress a shallow bow. “Your Imperial Highness.”

“Dear son,” my mother says. “And dear daughter-in-law. Welcome to Khav, Ambassador Umbra. We have all been so excited to see the alien who has captured the heart of our beloved Mareliux!” She sounds and looks the same as always.

Exactly the same, I notice. And it's been a good while since I saw her last. She must be using a fortune on cosmetic treatments.

“Thank you, Imperial Highness,” Umbra says brightly. “He’s the sweetest man I ever met. And so big and strong!”

The Empress’s smile is icy. “Oh, is that an AI translating? You haven’t shown us the courtesy of learning even rudimentary Khavgrese?

How different your societal norms must be from ours!

Yes, of course he must appear gigantic to you, Umbra.

I’d heard you were small, but I wasn’t prepared for you being downright miniscule .

But don’t worry. I’m sure our doctors will find a way for you to survive childbirth if you get pregnant by him.

Which is an important point of a royal wife. Isn’t that right, Preniat?”

“It is indeed, Highness,” the quaestor creaks.

“Some would say that providing the prince with offspring is the entire point of him having a wife. But there’s also the question of whether or not these two can procreate at all.

It seems doubtful, Your Highness. Surely the two species are too different.

But of course we will hope for the best.”

“Yes,” Umbra says with a happy smile. “Hope for the best!”

I wonder if she may be overdoing it. The quaestor has already met her, and I think she made a different impression then. But it’s safer to err on the side of stupid than appearing too smart.

“Welcome, sister-in-law Umbra,” my brother says, flicking his cape behind him.

“You must wonder who I am, since nobody has found it worth their time to introduce me to you. I assure you that most Khavgrens will be more polite than these people. I am Prince Nerox, your husband’s brother.

I understand you come from an uncharted backwater at the very bottom of the galaxy? The gutter, so to speak? The sewers?”

“Thank you for this welcome,” I cut in before he can make more of a fool of himself. “It is just as warm and heartfelt as I knew it would be. Shall we go?”

Before my mother can react, I take Umbra’s hand and lead us all on to the long row of royal land transport that will take us to the Emperor’s part of the palace.

A flying transport would be faster, but traveling through the streets will be a surprising factor for any assassin.

We’re in enemy territory now, and we have to act like it.

“Keep it up,” I whisper to Umbra. “Doing well.”

She gives a little giggle in response, leaning into me as we walk.

It’s a sunny day, and many people have assembled outside the barriers that surround the royal part of the spaceport. They’re cheering, some calling my name and some trying to pronounce ‘Umbra’.

I stay calm and collected, as royal etiquette directs, not giving them any attention.

To my surprise Umbra draws breath and shouts “good morning!” in nearly perfect Khavgrese while waving one arm.

It’s clearly her AI that has supplied the words, but the crowd reacts as if they suddenly come to life.

They cheer and scream and yell ‘we love you!’ right back at us.

People come running to join the crowd, and I know that the Imperial broadcasters will have a wonderful day when they show the people this news item. A royal who talks to the crowd!

And why not? I follow Umbra’s example and wave and smile, too. “Do you like my princess?!” I yell.

The crowd goes crazy. “We love Umbra!”

The cheering is becoming ear-splittingly loud, and the people in the security detail are looking worried. Even the Calanians, the imposing Imperial Guards, are drawing closer.

“I love you too!” Umbra replies, waving both hands as we approach the land transport.

The crowd replies with a thunderous roar, hands and tentacles waving wildly.

I can hear the shocked muttering from my mother behind me. She has certainly never had the people cheer for her.

When we reach the transport, Umbra quickly drags me to the barrier and reaches her hand out to some of the children standing there, pushed into the metal grid that surrounds the transports.

“Thanks for meeting me!” she chirps before I gently but firmly lead her back to the transport to the deafening sound of hundreds of children squealing with glee.

She manages one last wave before the door closes and everything gets quiet.

Caret’ax gets in behind us, and the vehicle starts moving, hovering a hand’s breadth over the road.

“Was that too much, darling?” Umbra asks, eyes shining and cheeks glowing.

“It was perfect,” I chuckle. “That was exactly what they would expect from an alien princess. No Khavgren would ever have thought of it.”

“The royals on Earth sometimes wave to the people,” she tells me, leaning into me because there are two other people in this transport, the driver and a lackey, as well as Caret’ax. “I thought it would be all right.”

“It’s not something we usually do,” I inform her. “But now you should do it every time. It will irk some people. Our next stop is the Emperor’s palace. We will see my stepfather on hos Throne.”

“What’s he like?” Umbra asks.

I think about it. It’s a hard question to answer briefly.

I didn’t have time to tell her much about Khav on the way here, being busy communicating with my generals and directing all the various battles that threaten to destroy the Empire.

I should have told her more about my family.

And maybe about me. The way it is, Umbra and I have either been busy running from death or been on a warship with every facility for me to run my armies and navies. I simply could not ignore my duties.

I take her hand and squeeze it lightly. “My love, the Emperor is old and sick. He was the brightest and most ambitious man in the Empire, once. But he got used to the power and to the luxury, and then he got sick. He seemed to stop caring about the Empire. Some blame my mother for that, saying she was a bad influence. That she was the real power. Well, perhaps she was. Or is.” I glance at the lackey, who’s sitting with his back to us and staring straight ahead as we make our way through the city.

I have no doubts that everything we say will be reported to the Empress.

But I don’t mind her hearing this. “But he can still make decisions, and he still rules the Empire. It may be a pleasant experience to meet him, or it may not. Much depends on how he feels today. But I return married, only a few days after his command. I think he will appreciate that. But we shall see.”

Umbra looks up at me, and I can tell she has a lot of questions. But this is not the time. We’re supposed to be married, and everyone would expect me to have told her everything about the royal family, at least.

She understands the look on my face and leans into me again. “Such a beautiful?—”

She doesn’t have time to finish the sentence before the lackey sitting in front of us whips around in his seat with death in his eyes, tentacles tipped in dark red. The back of his chair drops to the floor to give room. In his hand I spot a long, thin blade that comes straight for my bare chest.

I reflexively reach for Bellatriz, but drawing a sword while sitting down is hard at the best of times, and I can’t make it. I realize for a sickening moment that I’m dead.

The blade suddenly flies out of the lackey’s hand and buries itself in the metal ceiling.

Caret’ax roars and throws himself over Umbra and me, massive hands going for the lackey’s throat.

“Don’t kill him!” I manage as I pull Umbra to the floor and crouch over her, making sure any other threats must go through me before they can reach her.

The driver stops and pushes the button in every royal transport that means ‘assassination attempt’.

The doors fly open, and before I can take another breath, four security people throw themselves into the transport.

No command is being shouted. They quickly slam a transparent sheet around Umbra and me and drag us out of the transport and into another, identical one that’s come up alongside.

The doors slam shut, and the transport moves ahead at its maximum speed.

“Same destination as before,” I command. “The main entrance to the throne room.”

“Sir, you just survived an attempt on your life,” the guard in this transport says. “We need to check you for injuries!”

“I’m fine,” I assure him. “Umbra? Are you all right?” I uncurl, now that we are doubly safe.

She sits up and touches the sheet. “What’s this? Are we being kidnapped?”

“Standard procedure,” I tell her and poke my finger at the material. “Only air passes through this. Nothing else, such as blades or projectiles.”

“He tried to kill you,” she says, touching the sheet and clearly not liking it. “Almost the moment you arrived on Khav.” Her voice trembles.

I put my arm protectively around her. “And you saved me with your Syntrix. If you hadn’t, he’d succeeded.”

She shudders. “It wasn’t a conscious effort. I just had to get the knife away from us.”

“A very useful talent,” I tell her, nuzzling her hair. “You saved my life. Bellatriz, do we know who that was?”

“ I’m eavesdropping on all the communications,” the sword AI replies.

“ The security agencies are all very busy blaming each other. Apparently the assassin killed himself immediately after. A poisoned pill, they say. He already had it in his mouth, ready to bite down. It looks like a suicide mission. He’ll be investigated thoroughly, but the investigators will likely come up empty and state that he acted alone. ”

I give a dry snort. “Of course. The slikes at court are great at preparing these things. He will be found completely clean.” I open the protective sheet and tear it off Umbra and me. “Let’s not arrive at the Imperial court wrapped like a couple of gutted jesks .”

“ Everyone knows that Umbra saved you, although they’re not sure how.”

“Good.”

The transport turns off the main street, passes through the Portal of Asugiux, and into the Palace courtyard.

“In a way, this was fortunate,” I ponder as the transport comes to a halt right outside the main entrance and large, purple-clad Calanian Guards come up and surround it. “Nobody can blame us for being shaken after an assassination attempt that nearly ended up killing me.”

The doors on both sides open. I get out and help Umbra out after me. “How are you feeling, my love?”

She gives me a brave smile. “I’m shaken, but ready.”

I go in and embrace her tightly. “Perfect,” I whisper. “The people will love you. And I think we can be certain that the slikes will hate you. You are everything they are not.”