Warlord and the Waif by Chloe Parker
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ELLA
I READ AS much as I can find about the Hyperboreans, our imperial overlords here in the Alpha Worlds. I’m fairly confident they’re my enemy, and I’ve found a new calling in figuring out how I can escape from their clutches. My readings don’t make me feel any closer to that goal. I thought the forces we were up against where I’m from were powerful, but these guys are on a whole other level.
But I’ll fight them. Even if it never leads to anything.
I also spend some time looking at other species, particularly the Skoll. They really are just like vikings used to be on my world - so much that I wonder if the Skoll took up residence on Earth at some point in humanity’s distant past. They were used as warriors by the Hyperboreans for generations, until they rallied against them and engaged them in a war that lasted for over a hundred years. The Skoll still carry out raids in Hyperborean space, but apparently Calder is unusual in his service to the Hyperboreans.
He must hate every second of it.
And there are other races too. The Nyeri’i, Portia’s species, with their medusa heads and their space stations peppered across the galaxy. The Merati, undersea creatures with massive pod cities across the ocean floors of countless planets. And of course, the Ardaxians: Lucien’s people, who emphasize rule-following and propriety, the mapmakers of the Alpha Worlds.
The next day, the castle is buzzing with bots, shuffling around in preparation for the Hyperborean visit tonight. I’m exhausted from spending the whole night in the archive, only making my way back to my room after I’d gotten my fill of knowledge. And now I’m stuck with the only Ardaxian I know, trying to help and failing miserably.
“You’re doing that wrong.”
I scowl up at Lucien from my seat on the floor, where I’m folding napkins for the delegation. They’re twisted in an intricate pattern, and I’ve never had to do anything like this before. Plus, there’s a ton of them. Apparently, the Hyperboreans will bring a considerable force of around sixty people—guards and diplomats—to stay at Kaer Idunn.
“I told you I’m no good at this.”
“Well, the bots can’t do this particular task, so it appears we must leave it to your primitive hands,” Lucien quips. “Portia and I have other matters to attend to, otherwise I would do it myself.”
I glare at the little green man, who stands on the opposite side of the kitchen fiddling with a panel in the wall.
“What are you doing anyway?”
“The Delegation has specific needs for climate control,” Lucien explains, “I need to adjust Kaer Idunn’s systems to accommodate their requirements.”
“Is that why it’s so cold?”
“Their species is native to an ice planet,” Lucien says.
“I know,” I scoff. “I read it last night.”
“Then why do you have so many questions?”
I shrug. “I don’t see what’s so wrong about being inquisitive.”
“You should be more cautious about the questions you ask,” Lucien says, “You might not always like the answer.”
I pause, considering his words and struggling with the napkins. I fold one successfully, tying it neatly before adding it to the pile, then look back up at him.
“Lucien,” I start. “Why do you hate me?”
He keeps fiddling with the panel, steadfastly ignoring me.
“More dangerous questions.”
“You haven’t treated me with a hint of respect since the day we met,” I press. “Tell me why.”
Lucien slams the panel shut and turns on his heel to huff at me, crossing his arms. He’s not very imposing at his small stature, but I can still feel the exasperation rolling off him.
“The balance of this place is delicate,” he says shortly. “When you are imprisoned for as long as we have been here, peace can be hard to come by. And you’ve disrupted it.”
I cough out a laugh.
“I didn’t ask to be brought here.”
“None of us want to be here, yet we serve and remain quiet,” Lucien chastises me, “I don’t believe you understand the hold that the Empire has over us all. If you show disrespect to the delegation, they will punish you.”
I freeze.
“What do you mean?”
He sighs.
“You complain about your service here, but much of our crew was doomed to much worse. You could be cast into the city to work in the Elixir Refineries, to the surface and the mines or—even worse—to the Towers of Eyela, where your body would not be your own. Do you not see that Calder rescued you?”
“Buying a thinking, feeling person is not a rescue,” I bite back.
Lucien regards me coldly, his glowing eyes narrowed.
“I think it’s best if I finish this task alone,” he says, “You should go wash up. The delegation could arrive any minute and I don’t want your human stench bothering them.”
I sigh and toss the remaining napkins to the floor, getting up and righting my skirt before storming out of the kitchen. I almost run into one of the service bots zipping along the hallway as I go, and curse silently at the sight of them swarming around the stairway to the servants’ quarters.
A bath can wait. I need some air.