Kate and the Kraken by Honey Phillips
Chapter Three
“Warden Pulata is waiting, Prince A’tai,” Uauna murmured, coughing discreetly.
“What?” A’tai frowned, looking up from his desk. From the expression on his valet’s face, it wasn’t the first time he had spoken. “Can’t it wait? I’ve just reached the most fascinating section on the influence of Namoan culture on the shipping routes between Kapenta and—”
“No doubt a very important factor at that time,” Warden Pulata agreed, stepping into A’tai’s study. “However, things have changed in the past two thousand years, and I believe the condition of the algae farms of Ataian is somewhat more urgent.”
The presumption of the older male grated on A’tai’s nerves, but Pulata was a dedicated House retainer. Despite his lack of respect, A’tai was quite sure he had the best interests of the House at heart. He sighed and focused on Pulata.
“There is no improvement?”
“We’ve lost another five percent over the past quarter.” Pulata was Warden of the southern reaches of Maulimu territory, including the algae farms that were a primary source of trade. He took his responsibilities very seriously.
“But the remaining beds are still healthy and strong?”
“Yes,” Pulata admitted.
“Then I am not sure why you believe this is so urgent.”
“Because we have no answer as to why it occurs, and the damage continues to spread.”
“It is still within the normal variations in yield, is it not?”
Pulata frowned. “Historically, yes. But not since we increased the efficacy of the nutrient mix. I really believe it would be beneficial for you to visit Ataian and see the damage for yourself.”
A’tai swung his chair around to look out the open window at the gentle green waves of the ocean. They called to him, and he was tempted to agree to the journey. Ataian was one of his favorite places, and he would be free to explore the waters and pursue his research without any interruptions. But there were two upcoming meetings of the Historical Society, and his mother had informed him that his presence would be required at a banquet later this month. Which was almost enough to sway him into going, but she was invariably correct about these matters.
“This is not a convenient time for the trip,” he said, turning back to face Pulata. “Perhaps later in the season.”
“But, sire…”
“I will take your concerns under advisement.”
“As your Warden, I really must insist—”
A’tai’s patience ran out. He rose over the other male, allowing himself to tower just a little bit. “It is not your place to insist. I am Prince of House Maulimu. I have said that I will consider the matter. Now go.”
Pulata bowed and left without another word. A’tai stared after him, a little ashamed of having lost his temper. He decided he would ask Uauna to set up another meeting with Pulata before he left the capital. He returned to his desk but before he could even pick up his scroll, Uauna appeared at the door again.
“Now what is it?” He did his best not to snap. Courtesy to his servants had been ingrained in him by his father—although it was not something his mother had ever shown any interest in enforcing.
“Your mother would like to see you, sire.”
That was never good. He cast a wistful glance at the manuscript, but it was better to get it over with now. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate anyway, wondering what she had in store for him.
The capital city of Kapenta was strung out across several islands, and the palace of Maulimu occupied a prime position on one of the inner islands. The building followed the gentle curve of the shoreline with his quarters at one end and his mother’s at the other. He took the least populated route and did his best to look busy and unapproachable. That didn’t stop him from being waylaid by a messenger from the chef wanting him to approve the menu for tonight’s banquet—he didn’t even remember that they were having a banquet—his chief guard, and three of the rather vapid females that his mother kept in her entourage. By the time he reached her quarters, his patience was worn thin.
“You sent for me?” he snapped. Civility to retainers was one thing, civility to the female who liked to torment him was a completely different matter.
“I’m so sorry. Did I interrupt your perusal of some ancient manuscript? I would have come to see you myself, but you know how uncertain my health can be. I really feel quite weak today,” U’rsul murmured. She was posed languidly on a reclining couch positioned in the exact center of an immense bay window.
One of her females immediately rushed over to her with a golden cup of iced wine, while another proffered a damp, scented handkerchief. U’rsul gave them a faint, brave smile as A’tai did his best not to roll his eyes. His mother had enjoyed ill health for as long as he could remember—and he did mean enjoyed it. It allowed her to escape anything she considered unpleasant while miraculously permitting her to indulge in whatever activities appeal to her.
“You look fine to me, Mother. Positively blooming.”
She gave him a reproachful look, but he could still see her preening under what she considered suitable praise. Praise that she undoubtedly deserved. She was still a remarkably attractive female, her smooth teal skin shimmering from perfumed oils rather than youth, but her limbs supple and graceful, and her golden eyes, so like his own, still large and bright.
“I do try to take care of myself, and not let my unfortunate weakness get the better of me. It’s the least I can do in memory of your poor dear father. He did so like to see me looking my best.”
Another statement that was undoubtedly true. His father had been madly in love with his mother, although A’tai often suspected that the emotion had not been returned. Although she had never married again after his father’s death, and continued to wear the extremely flattering robes of the widow, he was well aware that she had not been faithful to his father’s memory.
“Why did you send for me, Mother?”
Her gaze sharpened, and she waved a hand, dismissing her retinue. Once they were alone, she sat up, and the needle-sharp intelligence behind her fragile veneer appeared.
“I have been considering our position. It’s time for you to choose a mate.”
“What?” He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting—possibly an increase in her allowance or the proposition that they open a new trade route—but certainly not this. “I have no intention of choosing a mate anytime in the near future.”
Or ever.He had seen the hold his mother had over his father, and he had no intention of allowing any female that same hold over him.
“Then you are not thinking logically.” His mother rose gracefully and moved to the desk in the far corner of the room. Unlike all of the other elegant, delicate furniture which filled the room, her desk was a large, functional piece—although still built from rare pink coral and carved in intricate flourishes. She pulled up a holographic screen. “Look at this. Our revenue from the algae has not been increasing, despite the increase in prices.”
He sighed and rubbed his neck. “You know that production is down. We are getting paid more, but for less product.”
“None of our other ventures are showing increased profits either. Unless you are willing to let me open the gambling house I proposed—”
“How many times do I have to say no?”
For the first time an expression of irritation wrinkled her smooth features. “You’re as stubborn as your father. With all the offworlders who come to the port, it would be immensely profitable.”
“House Maulimu is not going to make a profit on the weakness of others.”
“I suppose that means you would be no more amenable to opening a brothel? Very high-class, of course.”
He stared at her in shock. It was the last thing he had expected to come out of her mouth. “Of course not.”
“House Faleta opened one last quarter and it’s the talk of the town.”
Based on her wistful expression, she was more concerned about the fact that people were talking about another House than from actually profiting from such a venture.
“No, Mother.”
“It’s not profiting on the weakness of others. Unless you consider sexual attraction to be a weakness?”
He ignored the barbed tone. Although he was not immune to an attractive female, he had no desire to be led around by his moa, and his mating arm remained firmly under his control.
“I said no.”
She shrugged gracefully, the movement causing her gossamer gown to shimmer in the soft light.
“Then you must choose a mate.”
“I am not following your logic.”
“The wealth of our House is not increasing, which means we are not growing. If we don’t grow, we die. If you are unwilling to expand our business ventures, then the alternative is to merge our House with another House that can provide a new avenue of growth.”
He rubbed his neck again and paced over to the open window. Her reasoning was somewhat convoluted, but it was not entirely false. His historical studies had shown time and time again that relaxing into complacency had a tendency to lead to the decline and eventually the fall of a great House. But marriage? There had to be another way.
“I suppose you have a mate already picked out?” he asked sardonically.
“I have two suggestions. Lady I’sua would bring all of the wealth and connections of House Ramata—”
“—which would in turn attempt to sublimate us to their interests.”
“Exactly. It would be profitable but difficult to handle—especially if you continue to refrain from social gatherings.”
That barb hit home. The balls, soirées, and banquets which occupied his mother’s time were more than just the fashionable assemblies they appeared to be on the surface. Important information was exchanged and trades negotiated under the semblance of innocuous conversation. He had never enjoyed them and, after an obligatory season when he came of age, he had been quite content to leave it in his mother’s capable hands. She might have been a coldhearted schemer, but she always had the best interests of the House at heart.
“I don’t see that changing,” he admitted.
“Then I propose a union with E’lofi of House Tiene,” she said, shocking him again. House Tiene was newly formed from a rich merchant family, and from what he recalled, Lord F’tonu was a brash, loudmouthed male who very clearly showed his plebeian origins. He couldn’t think of anyone less likely to appeal to his sophisticated mother. And as for E’lofi, he vaguely remembered her as a very shy, pretty debutante who had barely managed to speak a word to him the one time they had danced together.
“I must say you always manage to surprise me, Mother.”
She shrugged again. “It’s a logical choice. The family is wealthy, and they have excellent trade connections. F’tonu wants his daughter to move up in the world. She’s pretty enough and better mannered than her father—and meek enough not to interfere with your chosen way of life.”
That barb also sank home. He sometimes forgot that his mother knew him just as well as he knew her. It was true that he couldn’t see little E’lofi attempting to interfere with his studies or make demands on his time…
Wait.Was he actually considering this? He suddenly felt the weight of the net closing around him and sprang to his feet.
His mother gave him the sharp-toothed smile of a deep sea predator. “I invited her to tea tomorrow afternoon so the two of you could meet. Quite informally, of course.”
“I am devastated to have to miss that meeting, but I’m afraid that I will no longer be in the city.”
“Why not?”
“I have to make a visit to the southern reaches and determine the issue with the algae production.”
“Surely that can wait?” His mother sagged back against her couch reaching for one of her pill bottles. “Especially when you know that I am not feeling well.”
“As you pointed out, if our production goes down, so does our wealth. And I know you wouldn’t want that to happen.” He hid a smile as a spike of annoyance flashed across her martyred expression, and bowed. “Perhaps when I return.”
“When will that be?” Her voice floated after him, but he pretended not to hear as he hurried out of the room, already making plans.
He needed to get out of the palace, and he needed to get out now. Her next step would be to send her physician to talk to him about her precarious health, and if that didn’t work, a parade of his counselors to try and convince him it was in the best interest of the House. He was quite capable of refusing all of them, but it would be unpleasant and tedious and because he believed his counselors had his best interests at heart, he would have to mind his manners. Best for everyone, if he was unable to be found.
He rang for Uauna as soon as he returned to his quarters. “Has Warden Pulata already left?”
“No, sire. I believe he has a meeting with Enetisi first.”
Damn. The old scientist liked to talk, and he suspected it would not be a brief meeting. Uauna’s tablet chimed, and he raised it to check the message.
“Physician Hollia is here to see you.”
Just as he had predicted. He glanced at the open windows and made a quick decision.
“Please tell him that he just missed me, then pack a bag for me and give it to Warden Pulata. Tell him I will meet him on Ataian.”
“Yes, sire. May I ask how you are intending to make your way there?”
“The old-fashioned way, of course.” He grinned as he shucked his robe and headed for the window.
“But Prince A’tai…”
“Don’t worry about me. I may even take some extra time to enjoy the journey.”
Ignoring Uauna’s shocked face, he dove out of the window and into the depths below. Despite the stringent rules governing the disposal of waste, the water around the city was cloudy and thick with the myriad scents of the population. No matter. He let his limbs unfurl, moving swiftly away from the congested area.
The cool water rushed across his skin, invigorating his senses. It had been far too long since he had indulged in the simple pleasure of the open ocean. Although he didn’t think his mother was desperate enough to send someone after him, he kept well beneath the surface, allowing the currents and scents to guide him.
An hour passed before he finally rose to the surface to observe his surroundings. The Sisters—the two suns that usually filled the sky—had vanished beneath a thick covering of clouds. Darkness loomed on the horizon, and he caught the distant flash of lightning.
Damn. Open water was no longer quite so appealing.
He could weather the storm beneath the surface, but the currents would grow stronger and more turbulent as it neared. He studied his surroundings again and spotted an outcropping of coral in the distance. If he remembered correctly, it was the formation known as the Tears of Latiti. It was riddled with caves, and he could wait out the storm there in relative peace.
He headed towards it, skimming along the surface of the water to make sure he remained on course. As he crested one of the rapidly swelling waves, he saw a foreign object in the distance—a spherical metal ball that looked like an escape pod from a spaceship. By the Sisters, what was that doing here?
If there had been an accident with one of the ships coming into port, then word would have been all over town. Perhaps it was just debris.
Curious, and a little annoyed that some captain might have polluted his waters, he headed for it. As he topped the next wave, he saw that the pod had settled lower in the water. The cheap vessel must have sprung a leak. Annoying, but perhaps for the best. Once it settled to the ocean floor, he could mark its location and send someone back to retrieve it. He was about to resume his original course when he saw a flutter of movement as the door began to open. A pale arm appeared in the narrow gap. It was occupied?
For a moment, he froze, and then he saw another wave break over it, rushing into the opening. The arm disappeared. Fuck. He dove beneath the surface and raced towards the pod.
He spotted it just as it sank beneath the waves completely. The person inside was still moving, fighting to pry open the heavy door but the weight of the water was against it. He swam even faster, but by the time he arrived, the occupant was barely moving. He wrenched open the door and found himself staring into two wide green eyes just before they fluttered shut.
Fuck.
He grabbed the female, yanking her out of the still descending pod. Pale, defenseless skin, no scales, no gills—she was not a creature of the sea. He snatched her up into his arms and headed for the surface, her body limp and unresisting. Rain had started to fall by the time he surfaced, but he did his best to shelter her, using his limbs to support her body as he forced the water from her lungs. She coughed just as a wave swept over them. The intensity of the storm was building. They couldn’t remain on the surface.
He pressed his mouth against hers and forced it open, pulling water in through his gills and releasing oxygen into her mouth. For a moment, she fought him, but then she sighed into his mouth as her body softened, and he pulled them both back down below the waves.
Her mouth was unexpectedly delicious, her natural sweetness mingling with the salty tang of the ocean. He could feel her breathing in his oxygen, and he was suddenly conscious of the full, heavy weight of her breasts rubbing gently against his chest as her lungs filled. The only time a Mafanan female had engorged breasts was when she was with child, but he had seen enough offworlders to know that it wasn’t true for all species. However, her species seemed to have particularly generous breasts.
In the past, he had considered such an enlargement to be rather unnecessary, disrupting the natural smooth lines of a female. But now that the soft mounds were pressed against his skin, the hard little points of her nipples an unexpectedly erotic counterpoint, he had an entirely different reaction. His mating arm stirred in its sheath, threatening to emerge, and he almost drew back in shock before he remembered that she needed his breath to survive.
Her legs drifted out next to him at an awkward angle, so he reached down to pull her closer. And found himself cupping a round, full ass, another trait so different from his people. His hand clenched involuntarily in the soft, ample flesh as he aligned her body with his. To his shock, her legs came up to curve around his waist as she clung to him. She was so close that he could feel the slippery heat of her cunt against his stomach, a shocking contrast to the cool water.
Her soft little tongue danced along his, as smooth as the finest silk, and his moa escaped his control and sprang free. He could taste her essence in the water, her sweetness washing over him, even more delicious than her mouth. His mating arm grew thicker as his limbs automatically moved into position, preparing to hold her open for him. But then she sighed into his mouth again with a soft little sound. Instead of resisting the mating like a Mafanan female, she seemed to nestle closer. It might just have been the action of the currents, but the unexpected gesture finally penetrated the haze of lust.
By the Sisters, what was wrong with him? He’d never had this type of reaction to a female before, and certainly not to an offworlder. Although she seemed to be encouraging him, he suspected that she was only partially conscious, dazed by the near tragedy. He would have to wait until he was sure she was awake. But perhaps then, if she was willing and his unnatural desire persisted…
His pace increased at the thought, heading for the Tears of Latiti with renewed urgency. Once there, she would no longer be reliant on him for oxygen and she would be free to choose him. His engorged moa throbbed painfully, and he swam deeper, hoping the cooler currents below would finally persuade it to return to its sheath. But then she shivered in his arms and he reversed his course. His unexpected protectiveness horrified him. Was he destined to repeat his father’s mistakes after all?
No. She was a creature of the land. This could be no more than a temporary liaison. He had nothing more to offer.
