Page 45 of Alien Prince’s Fake Bride (The Tentacle Throne #1)

I don’t want to state outright that I think my mother killed my father, although both I and Nerox are pretty sure about it.

We both remember our mother changing a lot back then, from loving and warm to distant and calculating.

It could also have been Craxallo himself, although I’m not sure what he stood to gain from that.

Certainly there were other women that may have caught his fancy. But maybe he was in love.

“Do you remember your father?” Umbra asks carefully. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to remind you of painful things.”

“Oh, those memories come back to me whenever I’m on Khav,” I assure her.

“And my wife should know these things. Yes, I remember him well. I was twelve when he died, and my mother remarried within days. He was a general in the army, having risen from practically nothing. He didn’t even have a title before Emperor Austadiux made him a duke for his victory at Repotin.

Many have said that he was the best general the Empire had.

He was always kind to us, to Nerox and me.

He taught us the things he knew about war and battles.

He was away a lot, but it was always exciting when he would return with wild tales of heroism and victory.

We loved him very much. When he was gone, life became harder and less…

colorful, I thought. Even if we had moved into the best parts of this grand palace.

It was as if my father had shielded us not only from the dangers of the Imperial court, but also from the intense boredom of life within the palace walls.

I hated it, and I said so, protesting to the point where— but that doesn’t matter now,” I cut myself off before I say things that may strike a little too close to home.

“I’m sorry that your life has been so hard,” Umbra says softly. She is so convincing that I choose to think she means it, not just doing her wife act. “I wish?—”

There’s a quick knock on the door, and Caret’ax enters the room. “Sir, Empress Juriniel is here to see you.”

Umbra stiffens in my arms, and I squeeze her.

“It will be fine,” I whisper, although I’m not at all sure I’m right about that. “Very well,” I say out loud. “Don’t keep her waiting.”

My mother sails into the room, her long, black robes swishing.

Caret’ax follows her inside, taking up a tense position next to the door.

He never trusted my mother, and I don’t think he’s wrong about that.

She’s nothing like the sweet, caring woman I knew when my father was still alive.

Court life is hard, of course. But at least it hasn’t made her look any older.

Again I’m struck by how she looks just the same as the last time I saw her, several years ago.

“Greetings, Your Imperial Highness,” I greet her, still embracing Umbra from behind. “Such an unexpected honor.”

“Unexpected?” she asks as she comes to a halt, putting both hands into the wide sleeves of the other arm.

“That a mother may want to see her son, who was recently the victim of a foul assassination attempt? Is it really unexpected?” She looks at me with a little frown, as if it is a real question and she wants to know the answer.

Then she forces a smile. “Oh, Princess Umbra. How do you like the view? It is the finest in the Empire, some say.”

“It’s a wonderful view,” Umbra says. “The palace is breathtaking.”

The Empress keeps smiling, her face stiff and set. “Yes, isn’t it? I was sure you’d enjoy it. Do you have similar things on Earth?”

Umbra glances out at the view. “We have cities. And old palaces. But nothing like this one.”

“Ah. I’m sure your palaces are just as fine as ours, in their own ways. Are they? Is it a rich world you come from?”

“In its own way,” Umbra echoes, her gaze flickering to me. The Empress’s questions are strange.

“I have made sure that this apartment is made comfortable for you, Umbra,” the Empress says. “You are perhaps not as big as we are, and most things we use are made for us, and not for aliens.”

“It’s a very magnificent apartment,” Umbra says. “I’m overwhelmed by your kindness and your efforts to make me feel welcome.”

“It’s the least I can do,” the Empress says with a little glance at me. “It’s obvious that Mareliux loves you very much, and I can see that you love him, too. Any mother would want her son to be happy?” Again her gaze flickers, as if she’s not sure about what she says.

It’s obvious what she’s doing. She’s hedging her bets.

She wants to stay on my good side in case I become the next emperor.

But I’m sure that’s not her first option — she most of all wants me dead.

Or at least she wants my marriage to be found to be fake, which paves the way for Nerox to be emperor.

He will be much easier for her to control. Even if he has to marry.

“Of course,” Umbra says, squeezing me. “I will do my best to keep him happy through his duties for the Empire.”

“Yes…” the Empress says. “Are you not worried, Umbra? About becoming empress? I can tell you it’s not as grand as it may look.

Indeed my days are filled with worry for both my husband and the Empire.

It feels like we’re surrounded by enemies, both here in the capital and in the galaxy.

And the empress is at the center of it all.

Right next to the emperor, of course. But perhaps you don’t plan to stay here?

Perhaps you wish to live on your own planet, which must after all be more comfortable for you? ”

“I will live where my husband tells me to live,” Umbra says simply. “I must follow his lead, as a wife.”

I suppress an amused smile. That’s not the Umbra I know. But she’s acting very well.

“Oh?” my mother says, taken aback. Then she collects herself.

“Yes, of course you must. As must we all. I do hope there are no more attempts at your lives. I simply could not bear it if anything happened to you two. You will be careful, yes? And not leave this apartment?” She glides to the door.

“Well, I shall prepare for the reception. The venue has been moved, to thwart any assassins planning an attack at the Temple of Casut. It will now take place downstairs, in the Hall of Mirrors.”

Caret’ax opens the door.

The Empress turns. “There will be fireworks as soon as it is dark. I have arranged it especially, to celebrate that we now have a new princess. The various displays will spell out your name, Umbra. In our letters, of course, not the ones you are used to. But perhaps you should learn how to spell it in Khavgrese, so it would be nice if you could pay attention to them. The view should be wonderful from these windows.” She swishes out, and Caret’ax goes out behind her, closing the door.

“She seems very nice,” Umbra says. “We should have offered her something. A drink, perhaps. Or is that not the custom?”

“It is the custom to offer guests something like that,” I tell her, gnashing my teeth.

This visit was more than just hedging her bets.

Did my mother leave something? Perhaps a venomous beast of some kind?

“But she knows that we just arrived and that she can’t expect us to be as hospitable as otherwise.

” I start to examine the floor, in case there is an unwanted little visitor just waiting to pounce.

“So nice of her to come and check on us,” Umbra says for the benefit of the possible microphones, raising her eyebrows in an unspoken question. “I feel so much better now. Oh, look at the sunset! It’s magical!”

Indeed the sunset is wonderful, seen from the tower.

The sky turns yellow and orange and red, and the houses of the palace take on the same colors.

But I can’t relax and enjoy it. When my mother pretends to be kind is when she’s the most dangerous.

She’s plotting something, and it may be too late to thwart.

“That is incredible,” Umbra says and points at a structure in the distance. “All those colors, shifting.”

“It’s a bridge being built,” I explain, giving up my search for a deadly critter. “It’s almost finished. It’s going to be nearly as tall as this tower. It’s all metal, and designed to reflect the light from the Khav sunset and sunrise. They are both famous sights throughout the Empire.”

“The bridge is a sight all of its own,” Umbra marvels. “It looks like it moves.”

“It’s well designed,” I agree with a shot of pride.

“It doesn’t move at all, but it does appear to be.

Even small shifts in the light will make it seem alive.

Apparently it’s the same concept as a finely faceted gemstone that reflects the light.

My love, let’s sit down. I’ll have refreshments sent up. ”

I check the couch for crawling things and place Umbra on it before I call the palace majordomo.

Then I sit down next to her and nuzzle her hair close to her ear. “You’re doing very well. Everyone thinks we’re married.”

Umbra giggles as if I’ve tickled her. “You’re being very naughty— oh, is that the fireworks?” She bounces up and runs to the window. “Look! There’s so much of it!”

I join her by the window. It's not fully dark, but the fireworks display has been made extra spectacular to compensate.

The window is soundproof and doesn't let any sound through, but the visual display is overwhelming.

Bursts of brilliant emerald and sapphire streak across the twilight sky, exploding into shimmering patterns that ripple outward like cosmic jellyfish.

Fiery orbs of crimson and gold blossom silently.

Their intense glow paint fleeting murals on the white city.

Each silent detonation illuminates intricate archways and distant spires in a dizzying strobe.

I must admit to myself that it looks incredible, and I feel proud to be able to show it to Umbra.

“There’s someone on the bridge,” Umbra says and points. “They have an even better view than us.”

I squint. “You have sharp eyes— oh dark Dages!”

It’s a black circle with a thin rim of fire that seems to hang still in the air.

It’s something I’ve only seen once before — a missile heading straight for me.

It’s next to impossible to see against the fireworks display, and if I hadn’t been looking straight at the place it was fired from, I would never have spotted it.

I grab Umbra’s waist, throw her down, and curl up around her. “Missile!”

Our rings suddenly shine so bright that the room becomes like day.

As I watch through the floor-to-ceiling window, the missile tumbles in the air until all I see is the rear of its rocket engine.

It explodes with a bang, so loud even the armored windows can’t dampen it.

Then there’s a hard rattle against the thick glass, as the debris from the explosion is sprayed across it.

“That was a missile,” I say weakly, making sure Umbra stays down. “But it didn’t hit. It exploded in thin air. After it changed direction.”

“It did feel that way,” Umbra says, her voice muffled but Bellatriz able to hear what she said. “I just wanted it gone.”

Caret’ax comes through the door like a meteor and throws himself on top of us. “We’re under attack!”

I can hardly believe what I saw — that missile did a complete turnaround in the air before it exploded harmlessly. “Not anymore, Caret’ax. Umbra dealt with it.”

The bodyguard gets off us and places himself between the window and us. I get to my feet and help Umbra up. “Are you all right, my love?”

She straightens her dress. “I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

I look her up and down. She’s uninjured. “Did you control that?”

“I saw something coming,” she says. “Something nasty. And I didn’t want it to come closer. So I turned it around.”

“You turned it around,” I repeat her words. “Did you hear that, Caret’ax? She turned it around! Just like that. A missile bigger than you, travelling way faster than the speed of sound! Imagine the momentum it had! It shouldn’t be possible.”

“A powerful burst of Syntrix is the only thing that could do it, sir,” Caret’ax growls. “As I am slowly learning. I hope they don’t have more of those missiles.”

“Your Highness!” Calanian Guards come bursting in. “There was an attack!”

“We know that,” I tell them, straightening my belt.

“A missile was fired at us from the bridge. It malfunctioned and turned around in the air before it hit the window.” I don’t want them to know that it was Umbra saving me again.

It could be smart to keep her astonishing abilities secret.

“Perhaps try to find who did it? You may not have to look far.”