Page 61 of Alien Prince’s Fake Bride (The Tentacle Throne #1)
- Umbra -
I don’t have much to do, so I inspect the apartment.
It must be three thousand square feet, immensely luxurious for someone who’s used to a tiny space station.
There are two bedrooms, both extremely big and luxurious.
One is in an exaggerated feminine style, with pink everything, thick carpets, frilly lamps, and a view of the Eiffel Tower.
The bed is a caricature in pink and white, with beddings and duvets that reach me to the shoulders and a gigantic, frilly canopy.
The other one is just as luxurious, with dark wood and marble and golden details that should look tacky, but just give the place a really expensive atmosphere.
Even the subdued lighting feels exclusive.
There are huge windows with a view of snow-tipped mountains that I think are the Alps.
And a fireplace where I find that the chimney isn’t real. But the illusion is really well done.
There’s a gym room with alien-looking equipment, an incredibly nice bathroom that’s not alien at all and must be modelled after some really fancy ones on Earth, and a daylight conservatory with dozens of nice plants and comfortable armchairs.
To my surprise there’s even a gallery full of pictures from both Earth and Khav, ingeniously arranged to show both differences and similarities between the two worlds.
It’s all incredibly nice. But of course, a golden cage would have to be.
“Can we break out of here?” I say into the air when my inspection is over.
Vera doesn’t need any time to think. “ It should be possible. This place is simply an apartment built inside a bigger room. You could break out through a back wall and then see what that outer room looks like. Can you hold me up over your head?”
I do as she asks, stretching my arm up.
“ Thanks. Now make some noise. A mild bang would be good.”
I get a fine, unused wooden cutting board and slam it on the exquisite kitchen counter, giving a tiny outlet to my frustration.
“ I said mild ,” Vera chides me. “ Not a gunshot. Fine. Judging from the echoes I picked up, the surrounding room is much bigger than this apartment. It sounds empty. If you must leave here, I recommend going out through the back wall, between those two fake windows.”
I grab some kitchen tools that could come straight from a drawer on Earth and size up the wall. “I’ll just ram this knife in there.”
“ Careful,” Vera urges me. “ That’s a sharp knife.”
But it’s not sharp enough. It goes a half inch in before it stops, even when I put my full weight on it and hammer it with a big frying pan. I try other walls, and I try to pry the fake windows off, but nothing works.
“ You could try the door,” Vera chirps. “ That would get you out of this room. But there will be guards not far away. You intend to escape, yes?”
I put my palm on the fake window and push. “It’s the obvious thing to do. One spaceship for Earth, and I remove all the uncertainty about Mareliux coming back and him becoming emperor and me not getting killed.” There’s no give in that window, so I try another.
“ A bird in the hand is better than ten in the bush, as I think the saying goes,” Vera says. “ Is that what you’re thinking?”
I hack the knife into the image of Chicago.
But the screen is sturdy, and the tip of the knife only leaves a small mark.
“I hadn’t thought of that, but that’s what it boils down to.
Everything Mareliux dangles in front of me keeps getting pushed into the future.
And it becomes less and less certain if any of it will actually happen. ”
“I think you can take that chance.”
I glance down at the AI. “You think I should stay and gamble on Mareliux returning and honoring his promise, and nothing else going wrong?”
“It is not a gamble. It is a calculated risk with a huge prize when it turns out well. Not least for you personally.”
I don’t like that she uses the word ’when’ instead of ’if’, which is clearly the right one. AIs do not make mistakes like that. It was on purpose. She is trying to persuade me. “I don’t care about fame or wealth. Staying here, I’m risking my life. Let us proceed from that.”
“If you say so. Will you be using Colonel Grast and her team?”
I go into the pink bedroom and try the knife on those walls, too. “I don’t know. I think she may be too loyal to Mareliux. I think Darient may be a better bet. She’s independent enough. A duchess must have resources.”
There’s a knock on the door. When I open, there are two Calanians in their impressive uniforms with the tall helmets with openings for their tendrils.
“Greetings, Princess Umbra, Soul of the Empire, Wife to Prince Mareliux!” one of them says so loudly the walls tremble. “We are here to hear what you require and to bring you anything. Any items, any food, any drinks. We shall provide them!”
Soul of the Empire? That’s new. “All right. Some food would be nice…” I tell them what I want, including sending them on a search for something that might resemble white wine. I have tried not to drink much, but now I may have to set up some kind of cover for the escape I’m planning.
I also tell them that I want to invite Darient for dinner.
They return in a remarkably short time, bringing everything I asked for. There’s even a messenger from Darient, saying she would love to see me. The great collection of Khavgren wines they bring me is almost overwhelming, and it takes up one of the two beautiful coffee tables in the apartment.
“If there is anything, simply knock on the door from your side, Highness,” the chief Calanian says. “Two of our men are always stationed on the second landing down. They will hear. Cleaning robots will enter twice a day and assist with your housekeeping.”
“Thank you. Where is Caret’ax?”
“Warrior Caret’ax went to the Gladiux with His Imperial Highness,” the chief guard says loudly. “It is common for him to protect our prince in battles, Your Imperial Highness!”
“Oh. I thought he would stay here. All right.” I close the door and sit on the wide couch, enjoying that it fits my size much better than Khavgren furniture. Finally I get a break. With Caret’ax out of the way, escape becomes easier.
Damn. I keep forgetting that he abducted me and then practically forced me into this weird situation. I shouldn’t be surprised if he locks me up here without a second thought.
“I can’t deny it’s a good setup,” I mutter. “Everything I need provided on request. A nice view, although fake. Perfect comfort. No chores. He really did the best he could with this.”
“ I have to remind you again, ” Very says, “ that if you stay, and if everything turns out the way the prince says, then Earth stands to gain a great deal from it. A golden age, a new reality, a real space age. A way to defend against those abducting UFOs. It will be all because of you. You’ll likely be the most famous person there has ever been.
And your association with the Emperor of the Khavgren Empire will make you more important to Earth than our language can express without using words that are usually only associated with religious figures. ”
I shudder at the thought. “I want Earth to be strong and safe. But those other things? I’d rather live like a hermit on the Moon than be an Important Person. All I wanted was to fly in space. And to find Ashlynn.”
“ Both of which are infinitely more likely to happen if you wait here until Mareliux returns.”
“ If he returns,” I counter. “Do you hear that ‘if’, Vera? It’s a pretty important part of the equation.”
“ All gains require some risks. The gains here are so immense that the risk looks tiny by comparison.”
I mentally remind myself that Vera is owned by Space Force, not by me.
When the chips are down, she will side with what she thinks Space Force wants.
But she hasn’t been in contact with Earth for weeks, and I think she’s wrong.
The main risk is that I’m murdered, and then Earth receives nothing.
Space Force would see it the same way, I’m sure.
And with me dead, nobody will be looking for Ashlynn.
“Well, they look big to me. ”
I don’t tell her my main problem with sitting here and waiting for some guy who may not return: it makes me feel powerless. And I vowed that I never would feel that way again.
The door opens, and a guard fills the doorframe. “The Duchess of Spure is here to see you, Highness!”
Darient still has ribbons tied around her tendrils, this time in sparkling blue and green.
“It’s catching on!” she says with enthusiasm as she gingerly lowers herself to sit on my couch, which to her must feel like she’s sitting on doll furniture. “At your reception, there were two duchesses with this style. Fine, one of them was me, but we have to start small.”
I grin and hand her a glass filled with some kind of Khavgren liquor that smells nice. “That’s how fashion begins. First one, then two. And before you know it, everyone.”
We casually chat for a while before I decide to breach the subject.
“I want to go home to Earth,” I state. “Mareliux wants me to stay here until he returns. But I think the risk of being murdered is too great. And the risk of anything going wrong. He may not return at all. That’s how wars work.”
Darient’s jaw drops, and her tendrils curl up and flatten themselves to her head. “You want to leave? Now? But… you’re married! You’re an Imperial princess! Even if he doesn’t return, you will be a member of the Imperial family!”
I had decided to tell her about the whole deal. But her reaction makes me suddenly change my mind. I don’t know her that well. And she has no reason to be loyal to me . She’s Mareliux’s cousin, and she’s obviously not going to act against him.
Shit. Inviting her here was a mistake.