The Princess and her Alien Rogue: Alien Romance (3 page)

Fuck them,
she screamed in her head.

“We have to go back to the upper town. I need you to meet us there. I am supposed to be in the Silken Promise, trying on dresses. Do you know it?”

“I will find it.” He shook his head and walked away, his shoulders shaking as if he were laughing.

“Come on,” she said to Rian, pulled the hood up around her face, and made her way to the entrance they had used to get down here into the market. It was at the back of the shop, and for a coin or two, the owner, Hosta, a woman who had once been the wife of one of her father’s advisors, would not only let her pass, but lie to her guards too. However, they had been so long, there was a good chance their lie was already revealed and princess or not, she would be in trouble with the Emissars for coming down here to mix with the commoners.

They were beginning to exert their rules on every facet of her life, grabbing control wherever they could. The Emissars knew that if she didn’t find her elusive husband in the next few weeks, they would take over completely, the reign of her species ended. If she failed to hold onto power, she would be sent a
Nunit
, where she would be shut away for years, just to silence her. All because she was a female.

The Emissars were scared the people were growing loyal to Tallia. She fought hard to keep a balance between the Emissars’ demands and how she wanted to rule the planet, but since her father’s death she had been shackled by their laws. For on Carinia, the heir to the throne was always a male, something her mother had failed to provide. By taking a husband, she could buy herself some time, and hope to conceive a male heir; if this happened, Tallia would become queen regent. It would still mean a life fighting for power, but at least the Emissars would not win.

She swallowed down her panic. To conceive the child, she so badly needed, she would have to have sex. With the moon man.

“Are you all right, My Princess,” Rian asked.

“I was just thinking of how big … you know, with the bog-glowing alien.” She looked behind them, but there was no sign of the two men. “I’m not even sure what species he is.”

“Limerian,” Rian said. “I have seen them before.”

“What are they like?” Tallia asked.

“They are not always to be trusted.”

“You mean like with the tokens, with the game he was playing?”

“In everything. The tattoos on his body. They are made by the Elusive Monks, gifts to help him in his life.”

“That doesn’t sound like the kind of thing the Emissars are going to like. I’ll have to make him keep his shirt on.”

“A pity,” Rian said. “But the Emissars will not be happy you have found a man at all, let alone one so … big.”

They had reached the back door of the shop, and Rian knocked three times as was custom, and then knocked again. The latch drew back quickly and Hosta’s worried face appeared. “Where have you been? Your guards are getting suspicious.”

“I’m sorry, Hosta, it took longer than I thought.” Tallia opened her purse and gave the lady, who wore the richest clothes in all of Carinia, another two coins. Tallia knew very well that Hosta liked to look the part of a rich woman, but in reality she was living frugally now her husband was dead, with all her coin tied up in the fine dresses in her shop.

“I’ll tell them you are coming shortly.” Hosta went off, pocketing the coins.

“I can’t believe the Emissars watch me like this,” Tallia said, looking in the mirror and smoothing her hair. “When I am queen regent, they will have their powers cut. And when I have a son, I will ensure he changes the law so that no princess will ever be treated like this again.”

“All you have to do is get married and have a child,” Rian reminded her, not unkindly.

Tallia stood still, her blood cold in her veins and panic filling her head. “This isn’t going to work, is it?”

“Yes. It is. It has to.” Rian helped Tallia undress and then quickly put her silk gown back on. It was a good thing the slave was experienced in dressing her princess, because Tallia felt unsteady, the shock of what she had done beginning to sink in. She was taking a huge risk, one that might backfire and hurt more than herself.

“Does it? I’m about to pay a total stranger to pretend to be my husband. Worse, he’s a gambler and most likely a cheat. You saw him fighting outside the inn.”

“My Princess,” Rian said comfortingly, fastening the last of the buttons running down the back of Tallia’s dress. “You went to your Misha’Ha because you believe in her. Yes?”

Tallia nodded. Yes, after what she had seen when she was young, she believed in the gifts of the psychic witch. “But I was a child then, what if it was just my imagination or a trick?”

“You believe in her.” Rian’s voice was forceful but soothing, and Tallia was reminded of just why she trusted this slave more than anyone else on her planet. She was the voice of reason, and devoted to Tallia, and not just because Tallia owned her.

“Yes.” It would be easier to admit it, to not fight it. However, she was used to fighting, fighting for everything in her life. The death of her father had seen a shift in power. The Emissars seized the chance to enforce their rule, citing that the lack of male heir meant the end of the monarchy on Carinia. Tallia and a few of the richer, more powerful houses had bargained for there to be a period of leniency where the young princess should be given time to find a husband and conceive an heir. The Emissars had hated it, but they had agreed.

The houses knew they had only bought themselves a breathing space, and the pressure on Tallia was immense. Not that the rich houses ever pressed her to find a husband; they had been banned from the palace. The Emissars wanted Tallia to fail, and cutting her off from any friends or confidants she might have was the swiftest way to ensure that.

But they had no way of knowing Rian was the only friend she needed. Her greatest confidante was unnoticed by the Emissars; she was merely a slave, of no worth whatsoever. Not that it mattered: their time was up. Only one month remained and she had got nowhere in producing either a husband or an heir.

“Are you ready? We must leave here, as naturally as possible, and then we go and meet your husband-to-be,” Rian reminded a fraught-looking Tallia.

“He’s a rogue, they will never accept him.” Tallia shook her head; thoughts of a silver head hewn from a silver body filled her mind.

“They do not have to. Only you have to. There were no stipulations, you only have to marry,” Rian reminded her.

She was right, of course. The Carinian population, and the Emissars themselves, were made up of different races. Although none of them were Limerian, they could not object. Or so she hoped, since the Emissars seemed to have made it their life’s work to object to everything that came out of their princess’s mouth. For the last year, since her father’s passing, she had fought for everything. From the amount of coin her household was allowed to spend, to the upholding of laws passed by her father. If the Emissars had their way, they would strip the planet back to how it was a thousand years ago, before the first of her bloodline conquered the planet with their superior spacecraft and weaponry.

“I’m ready.” She lifted her head, straightened her back, put an expression on her face that was both haughty and cold, and went out to the front of the shop to see the guards stood talking to each other. Only when they cast a glance through the window and saw her did they straighten up and stand to attention.

“Are you all done, My Princess?” Hosta asked tilting her head forward in respect, although they both knew it was an act. Hosta still thought of herself as a superior member of the court.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Here is the dress. All wrapped up for you.” Hosta handed a dress box to Rian.

“Thank you. I will send the required coin directly.” It was the price of Hosta’s loyalty, even though Tallia did not need another dress. For Hosta it meant other ladies would see the princess wearing her dress and rush here to buy something similar.
Not if my head is no longer attached to my shoulders,
but Tallia smiled and kept that thought to herself.

“My Princess.” One of the guards, Danicle, bowed as she came out. “We were concerned.”

“I was purchasing a dress. Do you know how much time it takes? A decision over a new dress cannot be rushed.” Her voice was hard, formal. These guards belonged to the Emissar, not to her.

“No, My Princess.” A look of contempt crossed his face.

She ignored him and walked off, her eyes searching for the elusive silvery man who should be here waiting for her. He was not. She allowed herself one moment of worry before she lifted her chin up and took a deep breath. She would find another way, yet she was consumed with disappointment that Misha’Ha had made a mistake. One more person she could not depend on.

Chapter Four – Johar

The upper town was out of bounds for most of the people from the lower market. Today one of those people was Johar. Maybe it was the dirt on his clothes from the fight, maybe it was the way his tattoos shone eerily in the sunlight, he couldn’t tell, but the guards at the gates turned him away.

He smiled. One thing about living like this, it gave him a unique insight into the lives of normal everyday people. No wonder on some of the planets he had visited, there had been uprisings where the peasants revolted and took power. Not like here on Carinia, where a spoilt princess got to make up the rules as she went along.

Although he heard that was about to change, and the Emissars were stealing power back from the monarchy.
Good for them
, he thought. Wait. He was about to become one of those monarchs, or at least the sex slave of one of them.

That thought stirred something inside him. It was a long time since he had really desired a woman. A long time since he had lain with a woman. Whores did nothing for him, he needed some kind of deeper connection, it was why he had run from his old life, rather than being forced to marry a woman his father would chose for him for the sake of their clan.

Was that why he had agreed to be the plaything of a princess? Because he actually desired her? Maybe. He didn’t know. What he did know was that the life of a trader no longer held the appeal it once had. Krigan would tell him it was his biological clock ticking away. That his sense of duty to his own family to produce an heir to carry on the family name was embedded in his DNA, and his past was now beginning to catch up with him.

Or maybe he simply wanted to mess with her and make her see that there was no room for princesses in these changing worlds.

Hell, they even wore those long dresses here. Did they not know they lived in a time of space travel, not fairy tales?

As he thought, he moved. Away from the guards, he headed to a quiet alley. There he climbed up the wall and onto a window ledge, before vaulting over the outcrop of stone and up onto the roof. He might be big and well-muscled, but he still could move as lithe and as supple as a big cat. The silvery tattoos on his chest gave him those powers.

He touched one now, and watched it glisten like molten silver under his skin. They were a gift from the Elusive Monks, a clan of magic-keepers who had made their home on his planet when they were cast out of their own. On his fifth birthday they had visited his father, and promised a blessing for the child who would be next to rule, in the form of these tattoos. He hated them, he hated the future they foretold. He did not want to rule.

And yet you are about to marry a princess.

Over the roof, he looked down into the upper town. There were no guards here, no eyes to see a man, a ghost, slip down over the building and into a place he did not belong.

From his viewpoint he looked out across the city and the gleaming tower of the palace caught his eye. What was he doing here? This was everything he despised, everything he had become a trader to avoid.

Yet her face flashed in front of him, and he knew he would do this, because she had asked him to. No, had ordered him to. It was like a game, and he wanted to see if he could break down the walls of her defenses.

I’m bored
. That was the conclusion he came to when his feet touched the ground, and he set off at a quick pace, weaving along streets that were quiet, so different to the overcrowding of the lower market.

He knew where he was supposed to meet her, but as he approached he could see she had already left the shop, The Silken Promise. He wondered what promises she would make to him when he removed the silk from her body.
Concentrate
, he warned himself.

She was with a group of guards, who surrounded her as she headed in the opposite direction. Whether to protect her, or hold her prisoner, he couldn’t tell.

Another chance to run
. She had already thought he had let her down, why not let that falsehood manifest into truth?

Sighing, he jogged after them. “Princess,” he called, and the guards stopped and turned to face him, hands on weapons.

He knew he looked magnificent as he approached. He towered probably two feet above them, and the sun would make his tattoos appear to move in a constant flow over his skin. A silver ghost. The guards stood still, mesmerized by him.

“I thought I had missed you,” he said approaching, walking through the men who were there to protect her. He took up her hand and kissed it, bowing slightly. He saw the appalled look on her face, as she wondered what exactly she was about to let into her life, and her bed.

Chapter Five – Tallia

He was magic
. It was woven through him, across his skin and into his very soul. She had been wrong to go to Misha’Ha. This man would bring her nothing but trouble. Only her training made it possible for her to withstand the need to surrender to him. As he approached, he radiated trust and control, and the guards simply stepped aside.

“I thought you had run away.”

“I never run. I have given you my word.”

“You should put a shirt on,” she said sternly, as the nearness of him threatened to overpower the last reserves of her control. “They won’t work on the Emissars.” She pointed at his tattoos.