Princess for the Alien Commander by Tammy Walsh

Ikmale

The streets were crammedwith humans decked out in their finest and heading to the cathedral for the wedding.

There were far too many to fit inside the cathedral—or the palace for that matter where the feast would later take place.

I opted to take my plain okmath carriage to avoid any unnecessary attention.

No doubt the dras would be aware of this event too and would do anything to prevent it from taking place.

Taking out the groom on his way to the cathedral was the simplest way of doing that.

“Take the back streets and alleyways,” I ordered the driver. “And go slow.”

Ever since the prince had been killed, Quoisa had almost slipped back into the Dark Ages.

As the king trusted no one, okmaths and carts were used in place of high-tech pods and shufflecraft.

The king’s suspicion knew no bounds.

I turned to Bena, who sat dressed in the traditional kauah dress.

A kror reached from his waist to his knees and across his otherwise bare chest was a cloth sash that did nothing to conceal his keen muscles, despite his advancing years.

I scratched myself in irritation, disliking the feel of human cloth covering every inch of my skin.

Flesh was meant to be exposed to the elements, to breathe, not to be suffocated like this.

Suffocated…

The same way I would be once I was married…

Married!

Even now, I found it difficult to reconcile that affliction with myself.

And yet, here I was, heading into the abyss in an effort—probably vain—to save my people.

I knew leadership required sacrifice but did it need to be so harsh as to claim my life and most likely my sanity?

I’d reached out to my contacts, looking for any insight into this mysterious princess, what her affiliations were, her interests, even her favorite color would have been something!

I received precious little, other than the fact she was apparently as hesitant about this marriage as I was.

There was that, I supposed.

“Nervous?” Bena said.

The asshole wore a smirk on his face that I wanted to wipe off with a fist.

“No more than any other coerced groom,” I growled.

“Take it easy. It’s your wedding day! It should be the happiest day of your life!”

I gave him a flat look.

“And what would you know about marriage? You’ve never tied the knot!”

He shrugged.

“I’ve never lost a limb either, but I know it must sting.”

He leaned forward and swatted my knee.

“You’re an Ellas. You were never going to get to choose your bride. The wealthier you become, the less freedom you have.”

That was true enough.

In my youth, I recalled freedom and happiness, being able to play with my friends and do whatever I wanted.

Then, as my teenage years slipped past, it became all about education, learning, and “accepting one’s position in life.”

Those were my father’s words.

But how could he expect me to keep track of my position when he continued to amass wealth and keep changing that position?

I shook my head and glanced outside.

The town folk strung up banners along either side of the street; on one side, the pure white of House Brant, and on the other, the deep luscious green of House Ellas.

For the first time since agreeing to this sham of a marriage, I began to feel nervous.

This is really happening, I thought.

It wasn’t a prank or a joke.

I was actually going to marry the daughter of my enemy!

What did that make the princess?

My ally?

Or also my enemy?

The carriage took a sharp turn, bringing us around to the cathedral’s back entrance.

It pulled to a stop with a heavy lurch.

Bena reached for the door handle and paused when I leaned forward and spoke conspiratorially.

“Listen to me,” I said. “I don’t know what’s going to happen today. I don’t know if this ‘marriage’ is the obvious trap it appears to be or a genuine attempt to reconcile the hostility between our two people, but if things go south, if they take me hostage, you cannot come to my rescue.”

Bena opened his mouth to argue but I raised a hand to forestall him.

“You will come and rescue me, but not today. Not when we’re surrounded by the enemy. You will take everyone back into our territory and then make plans to rescue me tonight or whenever the best opportunity presents itself. I will not have you or any of my men risking your lives for me. Do you understand?”

Bena peered between my eyes before nodding solemnly.

“I need to hear it,” I said softly.

There wasn’t a more honorable kauah in my entire armed forces.

It was a real strength… but also a weakness.

It made him unflinchingly loyal and likely to succumb to his honor and pitch himself into wild battle to rescue me, losing his life in the process.

I wouldn’t allow that to happen, not when it was so avoidable.

Bena bowed his head and extended his hand, palm up, toward me.

“I swear it.”

I ran my fingers over his palm.

It was as good as done.

“I suppose we should get this shit show underway, hadn’t we?” I said.

The door opened, revealing Ujok in his human uniform.

He surveyed me disdainfully.

Of all the creatures the king could have sent to greet me, why did he have to send the only traitorous kauah I had ever known?

He didn’t let my obvious derision for him interfere with his duties.

“Welcome, my lord,” Ujok said with a formal bow and motioning for me to enter the cathedral.

It was then a thought occurred to me:

If I married into the royal family, did it mean I could fire this asshole?

For the first time since agreeing to this sham of a marriage, I grinned and felt light of foot.

As we kauah liked to say, there were black linings to every pool of freshly spilled blood.

The rich andpowerful had long since arrived and sat on pews overflowing with ut’ika flowers.

Ut’ika,I snorted. A flower as beautiful as it was deadly.

Harness it correctly and it could be used as poison.

It was House Brant’s emblem and well-suited to its host.

The king was nothing if not deadly.

The flowers looked incredible but I doubted they would have my family emblem on display—not unless they were desperate to sour our burgeoning relationship before it had even properly begun.

The Ellas emblem consisted of a magnificent pair of kauah horns and not the kind of thing the king would have for decoration—although I wouldn’t put it past him considering his recent spate of increasingly dark moods.

A human assistant led me to the front of the cathedral where I was told to stand and wait while she hustled off to continue with the wedding preparations.

I wondered what the guests thought of this sudden royal wedding.

Many of them would have access to information about the encroaching dras and would understand my motivation to agreeing to such a sham wedding.

And allow myself to be ensnared in what could very likely be a trap.

Well, they might try to capture me, but I would never betray my people.

An ancient human male wearing funny dress robes of black and white stepped from an open archway carrying a heavy tome in his hands and approached the dais.

The moment he entered, the congregation ceased gossiping amongst themselves and immediately stood as one.

The high priest’s footsteps clip-clopped on the dais as he crossed it.

He took his time to place his book on the high lectern and peer up at us, squinting through his large spectacles before raising both his hands and saying:

“Please be seated.”

Everyone did.

The high priest gave an introduction about bringing our two families together as one, and that with the recent loss of the Prince perhaps now the healing process could begin.

He didn’t look in my direction as he said it, and he didn’t need to.

All the humans in the kingdom blamed me for what had happened to their beloved prince—the king’s campaign of revenge had ensured that.

Once he was done, the music kicked in from an enormous organ on the second floor.

It made a high-pitched wheezing noise that made my ears—and those of the other kauah present—flap and lower.

Our superior hearing wasn’t designed for this kind of music.

If you could even call it music.

It sounded like nothing but noise to me.

The congregation stood once more and turned to peer down the aisle toward the main entrance.

A dozen figures entered the doorway, each wearing flimsy dresses and sharp suits.

They could barely stand still, giddy with excitement about their involvement in the ceremony.

Each wore an outfit slightly different from those standing beside them.

They all caught the eye and held the attention.

At their head was King Leo Brant.

The tyrant.

He was dressed in a sharp suit, his chin raised, crown and mesmerizing jewels flashing in the dying sunlight.

The crowd groaned with excitement at the sight of him.

The king soaked it up, chest swelling.

And yet, for all his splendor and obvious charisma, he was not the one who most dominated my attention.

That accolade resided with the princess perched on his arm.

She wore a long flowing white dress and veil that covered her face.

Only a single arm was visible, held by her father.

It was a slender and shapely thing and foretold of great beauty if the rest of her followed suit

Please let the rest of her follow suit.

The organ music ramped up and began to play the tune I had learned as a child that signaled the beginning of a human wedding.

The king and his princess strode down the aisle with breathtakingly slow steps.

The entire time, my eyes were fixed on the bride.

On that veil.

On that damn veil.

I tried to peer through it, to make out more details of my wife-to-be, but there were none to be had.

When the royal pair drew up to me, I tore my attention from the princess just long enough to meet the king’s eyes.

His eyes glinted with glee.

I doubted it had anything to do with me becoming a part of his family.

He extended his daughter’s hand to me and with a dry mouth and unsure hand, I took it.

It was soft and warm.

Beneath its touch, I felt my nerves begin to dissipate.

The king turned and marched toward his seat on the front pew while I turned the princess to stand before the high priest.

I glanced at her out the corner of my eye and was rewarded with catching a glimpse of her through the veil.

I made out the smooth curve of her cheek, her soft and supple lips, and eyes that were bright and shining, looking directly ahead and focusing on the high priest.

My nerves began to ease.

A little.

She wasn’t the hog my imagination had assumed she was.

Her height was satisfying—tall for a human—though the top of her head barely reached my collarbone—

I blinked, the description somehow ringing a bell.

Hadn’t I seen a human female and thought of her that way before?

Pleasantly tall?

I frowned and turned to the high priest, who was already reaching our vows.

My voice felt heavy and deep in my chest when I said:

“I do.”

Even if this was a sham of a marriage, I felt the weight of those words on my lips and the promise attached to them.

I listened intently to the princess and was surprised when she spoke with the same solemnity I had.

Her voice was soft and well-spoken, and yet, I thought I recognized that too.

But I couldn’t have.

I hardly knew any humans.

Especially females!

“You may now kiss the bride,” the high priest said.

I turned to her and ignored the soft murmuring of the congregation behind me.

Humans and kauah might have lived side by side for hundreds of years but joining together formally like this was highly unusual.

Especially among royalty and the wealthier classes.

It was the moment of truth.

I lifted her veil and eased it back slowly.

I exposed her upper chest, the cream white of her smooth and blemishless skin was pleasing to say the least.

Then, the smooth lines of her collarbone and her long neck, upon which sat a cute pointed chin.

Now, her pursed lips, curled on one side as she gnawed nervously on it.

Her pursed lips…

Yet another clue that I felt certain my memories should have seized upon.

As I raised the veil over her cute button nose, sharp cheekbones, and broad eyes, she gazed upon me clearly for the first time too.

The shock on my face was reflected on hers.

“You!” I wanted to yell, but I caught it in the back of my throat in the nick of time.

She blinked in rapid succession.

We were taking too long.

The congregation was watching, enrapt.

Without barely a thought, I leaned forward and pecked her on the lips.

The guests got to their feet and clapped jubilantly.

On the front row, the king also clapped, but it was slow and controlled.

I stared at the princess, who stared back at me.

Sofia! That was her name!

She was the one in my tent earlier!

The succulent stranger who had robbed me of my senses.

And now she was my wife!