The Iriduan’s Mate by Susan Trombley

Twenty-Three

“Got something you want to share with the rest of the class?” Jenice asked Molly wryly from the other side of the dining table in their shared living space.

Molly blushed guiltily, covering her wrist com with a reflexive motion before recalling that she had nothing to be ashamed of, and Jenice and the others had no right to judge.

Still, she shook her head, leaning back in her chair as she met Jenice’s eyes. “Nothing that would be of interest to anyone here.”

Jenice raised her eyebrows, her lips tightening with skepticism. “If you say so.”

“Mol is entitled to keep her own affairs to herself,” Grundon said with a growl, sending a quelling glance towards Jenice before turning a smile on Molly.

“I don’t know why you’re getting so upset over this, Jenice,” Briana piped up from her seat at Jenice’s right hand. “It’s like you’re jealous or something.” She gestured to Molly with a slender hand. “Let her have her fun with her lover. We already have Ma’Nah’s contract. The company wouldn’t dare to cancel it just because things don’t work out well with her and lover boy.”

Molly noted the tightening in the corners of Jenice’s lips and hastened to intervene before any of the others at the table decided to make incendiary comments that would ruin what had been a nice, pleasant meal.

“Jenice has every right to be concerned,” she said in a soft, placating tone. “It’s not just my own position that is at stake, and I assure you, my friend,” she turned her full attention to Jenice, “I am remaining cautious. I share nothing with Shulgi that would put us in danger.”

“You do send a lot of messages back and forth,” Mogorl said thoughtfully after swallowing a large mouthful of fish and eel stew as everyone else at the table fell into an awkward silence.

Molly blushed again, knowing the violet on her cheeks was now likely as dark as a bruise. “We speak of things that interest us both, not of business.”

In truth, there wasn’t anything she hadn’t told Shulgi by this point that she could tell him. Though it had been several day cycles since she’d been able to see him, they did send a bunch of messages back and forth and had even chatted through holoscreen the last two evenings. A secret smile tilted her lips as she recalled last night’s chat, and what it had ended up turning into. Shulgi was so incredibly desirable to her that she sometimes forgot herself. She was pleased that she made him do the same.

She had shared many details about her past, though nothing specific about those who’d harmed her, because she genuinely worried that Shulgi might try to do something about it. She didn’t want him getting hurt by someone like Uthagol, whose web of influence spread far through the column. She didn’t doubt he would prove capable in a fair fight, but Uthagol never fought fairly. She would have him taken out the moment she saw him as a threat, and he’d likely never see it coming.

Shulgi had been more reserved about the details of his past, and when she’d called him on it through a message that she worried might have reflected too much of her own insecurity, he’d confessed that he’d done too many things that shamed him, and he didn’t want her to see him in that negative light.

Despite his concerns, she still believed in him and knew he was good at his core regardless of the things he’d been forced by his positions in life to do.

“I’ve seen that image you have of him in your room,” Briana said with a grin, “I could think of many things to discuss with a man like that, and none of it would be about business.”

Molly chuckled, noting the way Jenice’s expression tightened as she shot a glance at Briana. “We do discuss entertainment often.” As all eyes turned towards her, she smirked. “Like our favorite movies, and video games, and eateries.” She picked up her eating utensil, which Jenice called a “spoon” since its design was like a utensil from Earth. “Do you know that the Iriduans in the dreg have a whole sector dedicated to entertainment venues?”

“Just one sector?” Mogorl grunted. “Sounds pretty austere to me. Not surprised though. They have always been so uptight and serious.”

Molly dipped her spoon into her stew, inhaling deeply of the fragrant scent rising from it. Their chef really knew his business.

Her smile faded a little as she recalled her meeting with the ramsuta official several days ago. She’d managed to put off giving him any sexual favors, though he’d pawed at her until their meeting was concluded and she’d extracted herself successfully. Briana had offered to take her place from now on, claiming that she found the ramsuta males appealing anyway, but Molly suspected it was the official’s wealth that truly appealed. She didn’t blame Briana for enjoying the luxurious gifts that would be certain to come her way if she “serviced” the official in Zaska’s name.

They’d lived in such terrible conditions for so long that any luxury seemed like a blessing. To be showered with gifts from a wealthy admirer was something even Molly had once longed for. Now, she’d grown too jaded—and too hungry for something deeper and more meaningful.

“Iriduans do have a lot of wealth, though,” Briana mused aloud. “He must send you some pretty gifts.”

He had. Molly had squirreled them away without showing them off to the others. Each one had been something that held meaning between the two of them.

He’d given her a dress made of Iriduan silk in a light gray that shimmered like silver, so she would have something to wear that wasn’t green—that wasn’t Zaska’s. He’d also gifted her a hair ornament of such fine craftsmanship that she’d never seen its equal, certainly not in the cheap marketplaces of the lower tiers. Shulgi told her the ornament was his promise to protect her and always be there for her. She’d gained the impression it was a mating gift, though he’d never actually admitted such.

He’d sent her flowers imported directly from Earth, which had to be staggeringly expensive, but had the sweetest fragrance, and a perfume from Iridu that he told her enhanced her scent rather than covering it.

“They have been lovely,” she confessed, though she intended to keep them concealed, not wanting the others to see just how much they meant to her.

How much he meant to her.

“You haven’t shown them to us,” Jenice said, her eyes narrowed. “I’m surprised. Usually, you display all the gifts our marks send to you for us all to admire.”

Molly shrugged one shoulder, sparing only a quick glance at the others before looking down at her soup. “Shulgi isn’t a mark. Not anymore.”

Jenice made a huffing sound. Molly felt the curious looks of the others as they bounced between her and Jenice, but no one chose to speak again as they finished their meal in uncomfortable silence. When it was over, they all parted ways, Jenice sweeping past Molly without a word.

She understood why her friend was so concerned. Molly also understood that Jenice had good reason to be concerned. Molly was falling hard and fast, and women in love did very stupid things. She knew that from personal experience. None of them could afford for Molly to lose her head over a man. Especially not at this stage in their operations.

Despite her understanding of the risks, she still instantly agreed to meet Shulgi the following day cycle when he sent a message asking if she could get away from Zaska for a few hours.

She didn’t have to answer to Zaska as Shulgi believed she did, but she still had people who did concern themselves with her whereabouts, and even Mogorl seemed reluctant to agree to her meeting Shulgi for a morning meal, much to her disappointment.

It seemed Jenice might be convincing him that perhaps this relationship wasn’t a good idea. Fortunately, Grundon had more sway with him, and he had commented already on how happy Molly seemed to be lately—and how much she deserved to be happy. When he reiterated that to his closest friend, Mogorl couldn’t find a way to disagree that still honored the friendship they all shared.

She felt guilty about not checking with Jenice first before donning her voluminous cloak and heading out with her guards. She also felt guilty about the fact that she had no intention of meeting Shulgi on the under-tier, since she didn’t want Jenice spying on them.

In fact, the strain her relationship with Shulgi was putting on her friendship with Jenice gave Molly a great deal of guilt. She couldn’t help herself though. She couldn’t stop seeing him.

He really did make her happy. Every message he sent made her smile, just knowing he was thinking of her. Every gift he sent her made her tear up, just knowing that he considered the kinds of things that might actually please her, rather than some generic gift meant to impress. Her every other thought was of him, and of how he made her feel, especially when he’d made love to her like there was something deep and true between them, rather than just because he wanted to get off using her body.

They both knew this relationship couldn’t go anywhere, but neither of them was willing to let that stop them from carrying on with it.

Shulgi wanted to meet her on fifth tier, which was a high level for her, and one she rarely visited. Uthagol’s brothel was only one tier higher, and her influence web spread its threads even as low as third-tier, so it wouldn’t be wise to spend too much time where Uthagol or one of her minions might spot Molly, and possibly manage to recognize her, despite all her dyes and cosmetics.

On the other hand, Sha Zaska’s increasing influence in the under-tier meant people were expecting to see his mouthpiece rise to higher tiers from time to time to conduct his business. It would be suspicious if his minions didn’t move higher than third-tier as his wealth expanded.

Fifth-tier was also the home of the dreg, and despite that enclave being only midway to the top of the column, it held some of the greatest influence in all Za’Kluth. Uthagol’s minions wouldn’t be as thick on fifth-tier as the others. Iriduans really didn’t like to share power, and the most powerful denizens of the dreg spread their own wealth and influence beyond its sheltering dome.

She would probably be safer on fifth-tier than fourth or sixth. At least, that was what she told herself. At this point, any risk was worth it to see him again. He’d warned her that they could not touch in an intimate way until they’d retired to a private place, lest one of the other Iriduans question his relationship to a female. While in public, they had to appear to be solely business associates.

She could handle that. She’d been in many such situations where her companion didn’t want others to know their true interest in her. It hurt that she wouldn’t be free to embrace him the moment she saw him as she ached to do, but she completely understood the dangers of that. For both of them.

Her heart lifted the moment they entered the morning eatery on fifth-tier when she spotted Shulgi standing near the bakery counter, regarding the many palatable offerings thoughtfully. Molly would eat any food that wasn’t toxic to her—having learned the hard way the folly of being picky—but she had definite preferences, and this bakery offered several of them.

She knew Shulgi couldn’t remove his mask in public, so he wouldn’t eat where they could be spotted. In fact, she’d never actually seen him eat in front of her. Usually, when she had him at her mercy, they were far too busy to bother with niceties like food and drink.

As much as she’d like him in her bed again, she was willing to take whatever time she could get with him. A feeling of impending doom had settled over her, making her feel like their time was rapidly ticking away and they needed to embrace every moment of it like it was their last.

He turned and spotted her as she and her guards entered the establishment—a Syndicate conglomerate owned eatery, with many different species’ favorites on offer.

His wings flicked, but he made no move to rush towards her the way she wanted to run into his arms. Still, the intensity in his green eyes as they fixed on her shadowed face told her exactly how much he wished he could.

He held himself in strict control, and her many years of training kept her restrained as well, but she could feel the chemistry sparking between them as she swept closer to him, her cloak billowing around her.

She also felt the eyes of some of the patrons watching her curiously, either because of the green cloak, or because of the towering Ultimen guards who scanned the eatery with slight scowls.

Despite the feeling of being watched, Molly couldn’t help but notice how clean, orderly, and safe the eatery seemed in comparison to the lower tiers. At mid-level, there was better enforcement for the common citizens—those who lacked the wealth or influence to pay security to watch over them. Residents of this tier paid dues to fund a community security force that provided blanket protection, keeping crime confined to the underground areas of the tier so that citizens could feel some sense of living in a civil society.

The heavy dues of the upper tiers were one reason so many residents crowded the lower, far more criminal ones.

Most of the patrons of the eatery looked respectable and rather ordinary, the kind of “regular” folks that Molly had been told about but had rarely ever seen in person. She spent most of her time either with criminals, or the elites—many of whom were also criminals—or the slaves she helped escape this place—none of whom she could see in this establishment, though she’d spotted a handful on this tier.

She already felt out of place on this tier, and this eatery made her feel almost shabby. She worried that the filth of the under-tier clung to her like a second skin. One she could never shed. It made her realize that Shulgi’s life was much different from hers. Far removed from the only kind of living she could remember.

Still, that pull between them couldn’t be ignored, though they greeted each other coolly and politely while the person behind the counter looked on a with a curious crinkling of his snout.

Shulgi gestured at the offerings behind the counter. “Would you like anything to eat before we conduct our business?”

His tone sounded so cool, so distant that she might have begun to doubt his feelings for her if his eyes weren’t telling her a far different story about his emotions.

She glanced at the pastries, her mouth watering as her gaze passed over them. “Perhaps another time,” she said in her most elegant and practiced tone.

She might not belong here, among the middle classes, but she would act like she belonged many tiers above them, because that was what she’d been trained to do, and she excelled at it.

“In that case, I have secured a private dining area for us to discuss our mutual business arrangements in further detail,” he said, though she suspected he was aware she’d denied her interest in the pastries.

Her mouth watered more for him anyway.

She nodded regally. “Of course. That is why I am here, honored Iriduan. Please, escort me to this chamber.”

In her daydreams, this meeting had begun so differently. In her daydreams, they rushed into each other’s arms, like something out of a romance movie, kissing passionately.

She was experienced enough to understand that life rarely ever happened like her daydreams.