Page 3 of The Royal’s Bumblebee (Operation Colonise #2)

Prince Izule

Izule.

I am perched high up on a reclining branch.

My bulk is draped across the purpose-built furniture, jutting out of the wall and several feet above most of the guests.

Ambassador Rerasha is slithering below and doing the rounds.

I recognise his orange spots before I hear his voice as he hisses and laughs with the other sponsors.

I have witnessed enough of these gatherings to know exactly what he is saying.

He’s reassuring the nervous sponsors and answering the common questions that always come blundering forth in a panic before the humans arrive.

No, they aren’t as delicate as they look.

Humans don’t have scales but they are more durable than a leaf in the wind.

Yes, their weapons are more advanced than ours, but none of them are armed in Orna.

It’s rude to stare at their legs, so please don’t.

Yes, they will probably stare as we look just as strange to them as they do to us.

No, they will not start lactating or shedding hair all over the place.

They don’t shed their skin as we do, and yes, you read that right. Human females will bleed from between their legs once a month for a week and don’t die.

I’ve heard all of this before.

The first time with as much anticipation and excitement as the Ucfeni below me.

However, I have been passed over so often now I am numb to it.

I taste the anticipation on the air with my black tongue and sigh.

My powerful arms are crossed over the branch with my neck extended and my cowl resting on my elbows.

I blend in well with the many resting branches in this corner of the room.

The scales of my back and all the way down to my tail are brown.

My underbelly is the colour cream, as is the cowl on either side of my face.

Two large brown circles give the illusion of eyes, level with my neck.

The Humans I have met in my father’s court compare me and my family to King Cobras.

A species of reptile on their homeworld we apparently resemble.

A fitting comparison, as we are the rulers of the Ucfeni empire.

My father is the King, but that doesn’t make me important.

Not unless he and my 37 siblings are all killed first.

I will never rule, and I am content with that.

I have the title of Prince, but only to serve as a reminder of who spawned me.

My mother succumbed to infection from a hunting wound years ago, so I never knew her, but I was the last of her hatchlings and have always been treated as the precious babe of the brood because of this.

The last living link to the late Queen.

My brothers and sisters treat me just as delicately, which irks me because I’m bigger than all of them.

Only my father is larger, and given time, I will be stronger than him as well.

If our society wasn’t based on the idiotic need to inherit titles by the order you happened to hatch, I would surely be next in line to rule.

I can out track and hunt all my siblings.

I can beat them in a fight too.

Unfortunately, they know this. On the one hand, I’m the youngest royal hatchling, so they want to dote on me. On the other hand, they feel threatened by me, so they keep their distance.

Mine has been a lonely existence.

It’s why I was so intrigued by the arrival of the humans a decade ago.

Of course, father didn’t permit me to get too close to the aliens when they first arrived.

He didn’t approve my candidacy to become a sponsor for the first year of the program.

Just to make sure they could be trusted.

The day he finally said yes was a joyous one.

My own little alien to befriend and ask about their homeworld.

I am a Royal Ucfeni.

We lead and we protect.

I will never lead, but I could protect a scaleless little human.

It was exciting.

I prepared my home so my charge would have their own living area and their own private nest.

I prepared gifts and books to exchange. I wanted to demonstrate I was smart, not just bulky with more than enough muscle beneath my sales to protect their tiny body from harm.

I’m no scholar, but I wanted to have reference materials ready for any of the questions they would likely ask about the Ucfeni and Thelia. I was so excited to finally have a driving purpose after being in this lonely limbo for so long.

Unfortunately, I soon realised I was the most horrifying thing the little humans had ever seen.

I scan my yellow eyes lazily over the crowd of eager and nervous Ucfeni.

Tail tips rattled and twitched with anticipation.

As far as my eyes could see there were vibrant colours.

Blues, greens, browns, yellows, reds and oranges.

Not to mention the various patterns such as spots, stripes, chevrons, smooth and rough scales, with and without rattles and ridges.

I am not so beautiful.

I am a Royal.

We are not meant to be pretty.

We are hardy and strong.

My scales are plain, but my kind are still attractive to others because of our size and strength.

Our prowess on the hunt and our more sensitive pheromone receptors for tracking.

My cowl is wide and striking, framed with small spikes to make me seem even bigger.

Most of the beasts in the jungle would take one look at a Royal like me and flee in the other direction in terror.

As did the aliens, apparently.

Whenever I tried to approach one of these little humans in the past they always screamed.

Always.

They ran, threw things at me, and startled the others to do the same.

Like a stampede of legs and feet.

It wouldn’t matter if I started to spout poetry, or if I was holding so many precious jewels they spilled over my elbows.

Humans find royals terrifying, and I am one of the largest.

It’s why after a decade of this alliance none of my kind has ever been the sponsor.

I don’t know why I still come to these pairing parties.

Thus named as they are where the freshly awoken alien and the sponsor candidates can mingle and get a feel for if they are a good match.

Chemistry is important to my people.

If we didn’t like the scent of the human we would suffer from being uncomfortable for months.

If we don’t enjoy their company, we might lash out, and they are far too small to withstand even the most trivial of tantrums.

I remained unmoving and ignored high up on my perch.

The resting branch is allowing me the opportunity to observe and play a mental game of matchmaker.

There was little else to do.

I wonder if that’s why I still come.

Otherwise, I’d be bored out of my scales.

The only enjoyment I have is hunting, but my longing for companionship draws me back to the palace.

I am bitter and sneer.

I would make a good sponsor.

I am big and strong, with the patience of a hunter.

My nest is large and I’ve embraced every technical advancement brought to us through the alliance.

I would dote on my human.

Listen and learn from them.

Provide for them. I am a prince. A Royal! I glare at the room below me. I recognise self-contained clusters of various Ucfeni in the hall below me.

Members of the court, politicians, and wealthy members of the trade unions. Even well-respected commoners. But none are of royal blood like me.

My jealousy starts to rise in my pheromones so I close my eyes and focus on being calm. The last thing anyone needs is to start cowering from me when the aliens arrive.

I lift my head and cowl up from my folded arms curiously when I hear the doors open.

It’s begun.

Aliens walk in, fully encased in white fabric and already I scent their anxiety on the air.

The humans that arrive are always afraid.

I understand why, of course.

They are tiny and we are large.

They have no scales and we do.

They don’t even have fangs.

This is why we believed them when they said they make up for their lack of natural defenses with technology.

They’d have to, otherwise, they would not survive on Thelia.

I couldn’t imagine them surviving anywhere, truthfully.

I have seen the metal beasts they ride within and I am persuaded they are worthy allies to have.

Ambrosia!

Something sweet slithers into my nose slits and across my tongue.

I taste at it with my tongue to bring more of it to my pheromone receptors.

Something very sweet comes this way.

I lean upon my folded arms, still quite reserved, but very curious about the humans coming this way.

Humans all have their own unique pheromone signature, as do we all, but they are far less subtle about it.

Ucfeni only secrete minimal amounts unless experiencing extreme emotion or injury.

Humans seem to be always secreting, and they can’t even tell! When they get emotional it’s pungent.

Another reason for the pairing party.

The alien could be the nicest and most harmless creature in all of Thelia, but if they stink when calm, there’s no way any Ucfeni would want to take one into their nest.

There it is again.

That sweet fragrance.

I scan my yellow eyes around the room to locate the procession of humans again.

They are in the middle of the room and surrounded by my people.

As per usual, the humans in grey suits have set out markers on the floor to indicate the distance they’d like us to stay back to, whilst the new aliens get used to our presence.

They are always so scared when they see us.

I sigh and lower back to my branch.

It doesn’t matter which human has that lovely scent.

They will never choose me.

They never do.