Princess for the Alien Commander by Tammy Walsh

Sofia

The women twitteredlike a gaggle of clucking hens as they pulled the wedding dress on over my head and gently smoothed it down over my body.

They were not shy about adjusting the bodice and crotch.

I may as well have been an inanimate mannequin for all the attention they paid me.

Their focus was entirely on the dress as they busied themselves with making their tiny adjustments.

They cooed about how beautiful I looked, and admired how quickly the ceremony was being organized, and how much the kingdom was looking forward to the big wedding after the untimely death of the handsome prince…

No subject was left undiscussed.

None but the groom I would soon find myself married to…

Not once did they raise their eyes to mine, and instead focused entirely on their tasks.

The dress was pure white and smooth as silk.

It shimmered like a snake’s perfect skin.

Half a dozen pairs of aged but intensely skilled hands nipped and tucked at every inch of it, working in unison like they were each part of the same beast.

Then they suddenly came to a stop, looked up, and finally raised their eyes—not to me but into the full-length mirror, smiling broadly at the dress they had worked on.

One of the old ladies removed the pins from her mouth.

“You’re beautiful,” she said.

She’d been working on the dress’s bodice and wore the same smooth motherly face as the others.

“This dress was your mother’s,” she said.

My mother’s…

My hand ran unconsciously over the fabric and I imagined her wearing it.

She’d been an ageless beauty, at least, she had been before the sickness took her.

Petite and demure, she was grace personified.

I imagined her on her wedding day, much like mine today, and wondered how she had felt when these same women made their adjustments.

Had she been as nervous as I was?

As unsure?

At least she knew the king before she married him.

I was marrying a stranger.

A dangerous stranger, according to my father.

As the seamstresses bent back down over their work making a few more tiny alterations, the fluttering of butterflies in my belly whirred into a raging tsunami.

I felt sick to my stomach and realized with dawning horror that I could not go through with this wedding.

High ideals were great when you’d been brought up knowing nothing else.

But I spent the majority of my life outside this kingdom.

Even if my father wanted me to do it, whether it was my duty to hold the kingdom together or not, I knew I couldn’t carry on with this charade.

I’d been a princess for less than two days.

Surely no one could expect me to go through with a sham marriage like this?

I wanted to find Camila and get the hell out of there.

“Done!” the lead seamstress said.

It was my chance to escape.

I turned to bolt toward the nearest door…

Only to find the seamstresses coming with me.

They didn’t take me through the door I’d set my heart on but placed me in a chair in the corner.

Yet another team of servants got to work messing with my hair and makeup.

They inserted strange white feathers in my hair, which I recognized as petals from the white flower Bill had dropped into my mother’s grave.

I attempted to stand and was unceremoniously shoved back down.

“I… need to check on something…” I said feebly.

The women gibbered among themselves.

I might as well be invisible.

That’s what a princess was supposed to be, I supposed.

A piece of furniture to be gawped at during the right ceremonies.

I sighed and glanced out the large bay window that looked out on one of the palace’s entrances.

From up here, the people looked like ants.

They filed into the palace in long rows, even more strangers I didn’t know.

What had I been thinking?

Why had I thought I could do this?

Why did I think “doing my duty” was a good idea?

Because I wanted to make my father happy.

Because I wanted to impress him.

Now, I had come to my senses and knew I couldn’t do this.

“There!” the makeup artist said, adding a few final dashes of her brush to my cheeks. “All done.”

She smiled at me—no, not at me, but at my reflection the same way the seamstresses had.

I wondered if anyone would ever really see me again.

“Excuse me,” I said, getting to my feet. “I need to… speak with my father.”

“Certainly,” the makeup artist said, gathering up the train of my dress. “We must ensure he approves of your appearance!”

She trailed after me with her arms full of material as I hurried from that room and into an empty hallway.

Desperate to be away from the gaggle of flocking hens, I headed down the first hall I came to and turned a couple of corners to ensure none of them were following me.

The palace was huge and I had no idea where I was heading.

Guests drifted down each of the endless cavernous corridors in sharp suits and incredible dresses.

Some spotted me and their eyes lit up.

“Your Majesty!” they crowed.

Oh no, you don’t!

I turned and hurried to escape before they could initiate a conversation.

Get cornered by one pair of guests and others would join us.

Soon, I would be swamped.

I came to a stop, mildly out of breath.

I was a rat in a trap.

“If I may, Your Highness,” the makeup artist said, her cheeks glowing red and puffing with exertion.

I’d completely forgotten she was there.

“If you’re seeking the king, I suggest you try his study,” she said. “When he’s not in the throne room, he’s most often found there.”

“His study!” I said, slapping my forehead and if it were the most obvious place in the world. “Of course! Can you, uh, take me there?”

I felt even more like the stranger I was.

The makeup artist nodded eagerly and motioned for me to head down each of the corridors in turn, refusing to ever take the lead.

A commoner couldn’t step in front of a member of the royal family, I supposed.

Finally, we came to a large set of ornate doors, the handles worked in gilded bronze dragon statues.

I knew we were in the right place because Ujok stood to attention outside it.

His expression grew alert at my approach.

“Princess!” he said. “Well, you look positively stunning!”

“Thank you,” I said politely. “Is my father in?”

“Your father? He’s rather busy, I’m afraid. You should be out preparing for the ceremony—”

“I need to speak with him,” I pressed. “I need to discuss something with him that’s very, very urgent.”

Like canceling this damn wedding.

“I’m afraid that’s simply not possible. Perhaps later—after the ceremony.”

“That will be too late,” I said.

“I’m sure you can cope without him for the time being. After all, he won’t always be there to sort out your problems. Your husband will take care of you.”

He placed a hand on my shoulder and led me back the way I had come, but I hadn’t come all this way to be turned back now.

As he pressed more firmly on my back, I shifted my body to one side, causing him to stumble.

I used the opening to bolt toward the study and shouldered the door open.

A short, stifled scream went up from inside the room.

My father turned toward me in a large wingback armchair, seemingly totally at ease.

I quickly scanned the room but didn’t notice anybody else there.

Busy my ass!

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Ujok said. “I know you did not wish to be disturbed—”

The king ran his eyes over me and got to his feet, a smile curling the corners of his lips.

“My girl, you are beautiful! You’re the spitting image of your mother. Is something wrong?”

Despite my insistence on entering the room and speaking with him, I hesitated.

I liked that warm look on his face directed at me.

I liked even more that I was the reason for it lighting his eyes.

Still, those butterflies continued to strike at my insides like a battering ram.

I took a step further into the room, the makeup artist forced to follow me with the train clutched in her arms.

She made to bow but it was impossible with the thick wad of silk.

“I need to speak with you,” I said.

The king smiled.

“The ceremony’s going to begin in thirty minutes. I’m sure we can discuss this afterward—”

“I need to speak with you now.”

The king was taken aback by my sudden outburst.

He scanned my face before turning to Ujok and nodding his head.

“Leave us,” he said somberly.

Ujok took the train from the makeup artist and placed it gently on the floor, then he guided her out of the room and shut the door.

Silence pressed in, almost stifling in the study.

There was a large ornately carved desk at the back with a miniature version of the throne in the throne room perched behind it.

Each wall was decorated with gorgeous ancient books, their spines declaring the secrets of their contents to be found inside.

The king wore a concerned expression.

He placed a hand on my cheek and gently strummed it with his thumb.

“What’s the problem?”

I almost melted beneath his concern.

“It’s the wedding. I… I don’t think I can go through with it.”

I lowered my eyes.

This time I was the one unable to meet a member of the royal family’s eyes.

He tilted my chin up.

“Why not?”

“All this is coming so fast… Meeting you for the first time… Discovering I’m the king’s daughter… Now I’m going to marry someone I don’t know or love.”

“But you will know him. And you will love him. It just takes a little time.”

Does it?I thought. Mother never loved you, not even after seventeen years…

I shoved the thought aside.

I wasn’t my mother.

“This is last minute nerves,” the king said. “We all get a little nervous on our wedding day. It’s as true today as it always has been. Are you worried he will mistreat you?”

I hadn’t been, but now I was!

“Fear not,” the king said. “No one would dare harm the king’s daughter. And if someone—anyone—does, tell me and I will declare war on them and bring you back to me.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

That was what a father was supposed to do, wasn’t it?

Take care of his little girl?

But I wasn’t afraid of what this Ellas might do to me.

I didn’t know if he was a good or bad kauah.

That was part of the problem.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t do it,” I said.

The king appraised me closely and removed his hand from my chin.

His eyes narrowed and his expression hardened.

“You said you would do it out of duty. You said you would do it to help me and the kingdom.”

“I know I did, but this isn’t me. It’s asking too much. I don’t know this place, these people. They won’t accept me as their ruler.”

“They will with time. But first, you must accept yourself.”

He braced my shoulders and looked deeply into my eyes.

“You are my daughter. You are the princess. No matter where you grew up, no matter what you may have done in the past, you have a king’s blood in your veins. The truth is, sometimes we must do things we do not want.”

That might be true, but I still couldn’t bring myself to do it.

I shook my head.

“I’m sorry.”

The king was silent a long moment, then he turned away from me and sat back down in his armchair.

He took a sip from his drink.

“Continue.”

For a moment, I was thrown.

Continue?

What should I continue?

Continue with explaining why I didn’t want to take part in this sham of a marriage?

My breakthrough in understanding happened when I noticed his eyes weren’t focused on me but his desk on the other side of the room.

A young woman raised her face over the desktop.

She was around my age and had perfect, pale skin and raven hair that spilled over her shoulders.

Her big eyes peered from me and back to the king again.

Finally, she stood up and clutched a hand over her plump breasts to hide her nakedness as best she could.

Only then did I notice the flimsy items of clothing she must have removed before I entered the room.

And the scream I’d heard…

More of a yelp, now I thought about it.

The noise someone would make when taken by surprise.

She stood before the king, who took another sip from his drink.

The girl glanced at me again, shy and nervous in every movement.

Then she began to do a very strange thing…

She danced.

She swayed her hips hypnotically, seductively.

She was mesmerizing—even to me.

I was a snake caught in a charmer’s spell.

“Everyone performs their duty,” the king said. “From the king to the princess, down to the whore who pleasures me. We each play our part because it is a part we must play. Just as the dancer must dance, the princess must marry for political benefit.”

The girl forgot about me and was really getting into her dance now.

I could almost hear the music as she ground herself against the king, bringing her lips close, almost kissing him…

And touching him in ways that made me feel sick.

“Father…” I said. “Why are you doing this?”

“Duty is an act of pure will. The whore knows this. And so must you. If you don’t have the will, I shall have to give it to you.”

“Father—”

Within a single breath, he was up on his feet and rushing toward me, his arm raised high.

He swung his fist at me and struck me in the stomach.

I bent over double, winded.

He was on me again, striking me in the chest.

Then he reached back for a riding crop on the mantlepiece and brought it down on my back.

“You dare to humiliate me?” the king yelled. “You dare?”

I screamed as the crop whipped through the air and bit into me.

I was in shock and hadn’t yet really felt the attack.

It was the shock it was my father striking me that dealt the most severe blows.

I wasn’t the only one screaming.

The dancing girl was too.

She huddled behind the armchair as the whip lashed down on me over and over again.

By the time he was done, he was panting and standing over me with the veins standing up on his muscular arms.

I struggled to push myself up.

Every movement brought a stab of pain across my body.

“Maybe you’re stupid enough not to go through with the wedding, even though it displeases me,” the king said. “So let me make it perfectly plain for you to understand… If you do not go through with the wedding, your beloved Camila will be the one to pay for it. I’ll strip the flesh from her bones and make you watch. So, my darling girl, what is your decision?”

I couldn’t believe the words coming from his mouth.

He was my father.

He was exactly like the terrible stories Camila had told me.

There was no kindness in his eyes, only madness.

He meant every word of what he said.

“Yes,” I said, flinching as the raw pain of his blows began to manifest themselves. “Yes. I’ll do it. Please, don’t hurt her.”

The king smiled and straightened up.

“You see?” he said. “Everyone learns the part they must play. I will hear no more complaining. You will do your duty and you will be pleased to do it.”

He turned his head to one side.

“Ujok!” he bellowed.

The doors swung open and Ujok rushed in.

He did not seem surprised to see me on the floor.

“Yes sir?” he said.

“The Princess has taken a fall,” the king said. “Take her back to the dressing room and have the seamstresses fix up her dress and makeup. Inform the guests the ceremony may begin a few minutes late.”

Ujok bowed regally before helping me up to my feet and leading me out of the room, the makeup artist carrying my train in her arms.

As the door shut, I saw the king sit back down on his armchair.

“Continue.”

The girl watched me with the same helplessness I was feeling at that same moment.

Continue.

What other choice did I have?