Page 6 of Treylon (Soldiers of the Ardannan #1)

Chapter Four

S he probably didn’t realize she said that out loud.

Treylon’s heart clenched a little. Rosalie looked so small and fragile in the medbay bed and her hand was petite in his.

He took a deep breath and stretched, trying to release the tension that had ridden him from the instant she fell off his shoulders during the damn game and disappeared in the waves.

He could not afford to fall in love with a woman right now but she was endearing in all the right ways and obviously needed a protector, which appealed to the side of him all about protecting those in need of help.

He detached his hand from hers, careful not to wake her and got busy on his handheld.

First he issued orders for Damnian to report to the ship immediately pending further disciplinary action for revealing confidential Ardannan information to a civilian.

His friend’s time at this resort was over.

His next call was to Delain, telling him to get Ysilda off the planet tonight and to blackball her from any future IDA activities involving the Ardannan.

Delain could decide for himself whether to ban her entirely from IDA.

Treylon didn’t care about IDA’s problems. He suspected the woman had come on the trip with intentions to uncover juicy gossip for her social media and Damnian fell into her path.

He commed the Ardannan royal family’s legal team with instructions to obtain a restraining order against Ysilda, preventing her from publishing anything about her time here at the resort.

Then he contacted the five star restaurant where they were to have had dinner and ordered a veritable feast for himself and Rosalie.

Surely she’d be hungry when she woke the next time or if not, the meal would keep in stasis until the point where she was ready.

In the meantime, he was certainly in need of food and the small medical facility here on Resort Planet didn’t have much to offer aside from a few vending machines.

It wasn’t set up for long stays. Ardannans had fast metabolisms and required a huge number of calories daily.

After that time dragged a bit or would have if he hadn’t been fascinated watching Rosalie’s expressions as she dreamed. He ate his share of the dinner when the chef from the restaurant personally supervised the delivery. Finally he sighed and opened the queue of official messages and went to work.

The doctor came in several times to check on Rosalie’s leg and pronounced himself satisfied each time but she didn’t wake.

Treylon dozed a bit in the uncomfortable chair, using a pillow brought to him by a nurse and finally in the wee hours of the morning Rosalie woke up as the doctor performed yet another exam and said she could return to her bungalow now.

There were a slew of aftercare instructions and things to watch out for, which Treylon took charge of as she was wide eyed and clearly not taking it all in as the doctor recited the details.

He organized the antigrav containers to transport the remains of dinner and her personal possessions, which had been delivered to the clinic an hour or so after Rosalie’s arrival.

He dealt with the clinic’s clerk, who wanted Rosalie’s insurance information, telling her the care was entirely on IDA’s account and to speak to Delain about it.

He allowed her to be taken to the groundcar he’d ordered in an antigrav chair since the staff informed him the precaution was an unbreakable rule but he lifted her into the vehicle himself and drove her to their bungalow at a much more decorous speed than he’d brought her to be treated earlier.

Despite her protests, Treylon carried her from the car to the living room and settled her at the table, since she insisted she was too wide awake to sleep any more.

“Good, I had our dinner delivered to the hospital and you can eat some of it now,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “You know, you’re quite highhanded at times.”

“Comes of being a prince,” he bantered back, happy to see her in such a good mood. “Do you mind?”

“I’ll tell you if I do,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “And then you’d better back off in a hurry, buddy.”

“Or?” He tried to imagine Rosalie putting up solid resistance to anything he wanted to do for her and failed.

“Or you’ll find out how tough us Earth girls can be.” She waved her steak knife at him in a vaguely menacing way and they both laughed.

Treylon refused to leave the bungalow to meet up with his friends for any of the previously planned activities and Rosalie was right she couldn’t sleep any longer.

She’d have been happy to work on her to be read list but if the prince was stubborn enough to insist on keeping her company, she wasn’t going to refuse his company.

Bored, she pulled up the instructional holo on the resort and then narrowed the vast information flow to highlight the bungalow.

“Ah ha,” she said in triumph at last, zooming in on a portion of the floor plan.

“Says here there are a supply of board games in this cupboard in the living area for and I quote rainy days.”

“Considering one of their selling points for this place is the perpetually sunny weather,” Treylon said as he went to investigate the cabinet in question, “When did they expect anyone to play old fashioned games?”

“We’re about to,” she said with glee.

He flung the door of the cupboard open and revealed two shelves packed with brand new unopened boardgames. Treylon sorted through them, tossing some aside with no hesitation.

“Hey, that one sounded fun,” she said in protest as he pushed away a dice-and-board game.

“But this one will be perfect.” He held up his prize which Rosalie saw with amused disgust was a military strategy game.

“I’ll play it with you if you let me pick one I like as well,” she said. “I suspect you’re going to leave me in the dust on the one you chose.”

“I agree fair is fair. Which one sounded good to you?”

Rosalie selected an absolutely ridiculous game where the object appeared to be building a rickety spaceship, hanging various alien animals and treasure off the edges until the mechanism was triggered and the ship ‘exploded’, flinging pieces everywhere.

The person who caused the explosion was the loser.

It was absurd but she shrieked every time the game set blew apart and they both laughed and it was incredible fun.

His preferred strategy game involved taking over a mythical galaxy by invading other solar systems and creating assorted types of interstellar havoc as dictated by game prompts.

Treylon won of course, after reducing her to one paltry sun and a few uninhabitable planets.

By the time they’d agreed to end the war game with Treylon declared the winner and not fight it out until the bitter end, it was time for Rosalie to return to the clinic for her appointment.

Treylon drove and remained with her when she met with the doctor.

She had no objection to his presence although the doctor wasn’t pleased not to have privacy to confer with his patient.

He was satisfied with her recovery from the sting. After testing her reflexes and running three different scans, he said, “All right, you’re officially recovered, Ms. Lenox. Stay off the leg for the rest of today—no hiking, no swimming and I’m afraid no dancing.”

“We’re going out with friends for dinner and karaoke,” Treylon said. “Any objections?”

“Other than the fact I personally can’t stand karaoke, nope.” The doctor grinned. “She’s actually fine, as I said. This appointment is from an excess of corporate caution and a desire not to be sued.” He patted Rosalie’s knee. “Sing your heart out tonight.”

“I will.” She was thrilled at the idea actually. She loved to sing and had been looking forward to this one activity out of all the offerings the resort made available.

When they reached the bungalow she took a nap and then spent quite a bit of time primping and getting ready for the evening.

It was luxurious fun to pamper herself and the products the resort provided were high end.

She was used to using whatever was cheapest and on clearance at the One Credit Store back on Earth.

As she was brushing her hair in front of the mirror, something caught her eye and she set the brush down and leaned closer to the glass.

Peering at the new mark on her chest near her heart, she scraped at it gently with a fingernail but made no impression on the spot.

Vaguely heart-shaped, it was in shades of pale green and no bigger than her thumbnail.

Adrenaline flooding her system, she wondered if it was related to the poisonous sting of the day before.

People didn’t just grow new birthmarks all the sudden, did they?

Deciding if it got any bigger she’d go back to the clinic and have the doctor check it, she forced herself to continue her preparations for the evening ahead.

This was the kind of thing she could obsess over and have anxiety attacks over, imagining the absolute worst but she was experienced in talking herself off the cliff’s edge.

Maybe it was just a weird bruise. She’d been unconscious for a while and received all kinds of medical treatment so it could have happened then.

At least it wasn’t painful. Yes, she’d go see the doctor tomorrow and have him set her mind at rest.

Treylon was ready long before her and occupied himself with his handheld, conducting more business.

When she finally walked into the living room, she paused on the threshold for dramatic effect. “What do you think?”

The prince shut off his handheld with a click and sat back in the chair, assessing her from head to toe. “I think I’m the luckiest man at this resort to have you as my date. You look good enough to eat.”

Rosalie blushed at the double entendre, thinking he probably didn’t mean it the way she was hearing it but then again, he did have a twinkle in his eye and there was a growing bulge in his pants.

Maybe tonight , she thought wistfully, if I can avoid getting stung by anything .

No bees, wasps or other insects tonight, please.

Licking her lips as she twirled for him, to show off the back of the dress, she decided she’d be blunt about what she wanted once they got home from the evening.

And she’d offer whatever reassurances he needed that she understood this was a fling with an end date.

It would all be over in three more days in fact.

Then she’d be going home to Earth, to her drab, dreary life and this time in paradise with a real prince would seem like a dream.

The fantasy would have to sustain her for the rest of her life—no one else was going to measure up to Treylon. How could they?

“That dress is you,” Treylon declared as she finished her twirl.

Rosalie had fallen in love with it the minute she saw it at the shop.

Layers of soft blue fabric like an intricate flower, with a sparkly bodice and thin straps.

It hit above the knees and she felt enchanted in it.

She had to wear her old shoes but even the tired heels seemed special by association with the rest of what she wore tonight.

The prince had kept his groundcar and insisted on driving her to the restaurant although it was easily within walking distance.

They were a reduced group tonight, with Damnian and Ysilda gone.

No one mentioned the couple, or at least not in her hearing.

The other girls made a fuss over her, full of concern about her injury and then they proceeded to the private room Treylon had booked for their meal.

When the waiter came to take their orders, Treylon gave his and said without pausing, “And the lady will have the Azrigone beef tartare, potatoes a la Centauri?—”

“What did I tell you earlier about being high handed?” she interrupted with a smile but a firm tone.

Rosalie was aware of the others staring but she forged ahead, addressing the waiter.

“The lady can order for herself and no, actually I’m going to have the seafood linguine with a side of baked potato and a mixed greens salad. ”