“He won’t. He’s not that bright,” Binwee snorted, waving her hand as if brushing away my concerns like bothersome insects. “Besides, like I said, he had the guards pack the crates themselves. Qurbaga doesn’t think I'm smart enough to come up with anything this elaborate.”
“You’re really devious, you know that?” I chuckled, despite the gravity of our situation, throwing my arms around her small shoulders and pulling her into an embrace.
“I do my best,” Binwee said, her voice muffled against my shoulder before she pulled back to meet my eyes. She glancedtoward the kitchen entrance, then leaned closer, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “We have one more sleep cycle before docking. We’ll wait until then. Most of the guards will be in their quarters, and we should be able to sneak the two of you into a crate with no issue.”
In hushed tones, we crafted our plan like a couple of generals plotting a military campaign. Lilibet and I would wait until the last rotation of guards settled into their quarters for the night—around 2am Earth time—when artificial darkness would shroud the ship’s corridors. Then we would make our way to the kitchen. Binwee would ensure we had water, food, and a change of clothes. My current wardrobe consisted entirely of gossamer scraps from the,Yes, I’m part of a harem,collectiondesigned to titillate rather than conceal, hardly suitable for life as a fugitive. She would seal us into a crate and be waiting in the station’s kitchens to liberate us when the coast was clear.
Heading back to the harem, I made careful mental notes of where the guards preferred to congregate. The alcoves where they gathered to share crude jokes, the intersections where they flirted with passing servants, blind spots in patrol routes that Lilibet and I could exploit. While Qurbaga’s estate on planet Lelieblokkie bristled with surveillance cameras that tracked every movement, the spaceship remained free of such intrusions. Probably because Qurbaga didn’t want a digital record of the disgusting hedonistic acts he and his guests got up to at times.
I arrived back at the harem quarters, the melodic jingle of tiny bells announcing my presence as I pushed open the ornate double doors. The sound echoed through the opulent chamber where a dozen other females—representing every conceivable species, shape, and size the galaxy had to offer—lounged throughout an area that resembled the harem scene from1001 Arabian Nights, complete with silk cushions, gossamer curtains,and the perpetual scent of exotic incense that made the air smoky with an aromatic haze.
“Back so soon,” Kela, a statuesque Romvesian with skin like polished granite and eyes that glowed amber in the dim light, called out, her melodious voice carrying just enough mockery to make the others—as well as myself—burst into laughter. Qurbaga’s chronic impotence was our favorite source of humor.
“Same old, same old,” I replied, though I remained constantly vigilant never to voice any truly slanderous comments about our captor. While most of the harem girls maintained a facade of sweetness and camaraderie, I’d learned through bitter experience that many would eagerly sell me out for even the smallest taste of favor with the prince.
“At least we can relax for a couple of rotations,” Urlette sighed with contentment, her scaled green skin catching the light as she settled back into her nest of silk cushions.
“Any idea when we will reach the Ardeese Valout?” Jialu inquired, her lovely Ntavian features arranged in an expression of casual curiosity that didn’t quite mask the calculating gleam in her eyes. She was one I’d learned quickly not to trust—too eager to please, too quick to report conversations to the guards.
“In a couple of days—rotations,” I corrected myself, remembering that while some of the girls showed genuine interest in learning about Earth customs, others remained stubbornly indifferent to anything beyond their immediate circumstances.
“I hear Qurbaga is meeting a very important business associate,” Kela probed, her silver eyes glittering with curiosity. She’d been the only other slave forced to endure Qurbaga’s attention during our current journey.
I didn’t even attempt to hide the frown that creased my features. “Yes, that’s what I understand. Qurbaga plans to give Lilibet to him as a gift.”
Every single female in the room—even those I didn’t particularly trust—reflected horror in their expressions. The silence that followed was heavy with shared dread. Even if they didn’t particularly like me, most of the females adored Lilibet.
I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin with the resigned dignity of a condemned prisoner, hoping to convey the image of someone broken but determined to fulfill her duties. “I have to spend the next two days making sure she’s ready.”
“Do you need any help?” Jialu asked, though I could detect the hollow ring of mere politeness in her offer rather than genuine concern.
“No,” I sighed with what I hoped sounded like weary determination, “I think Lilibet will do better if it’s just me.” Jodie Foster didn’t have shit on me either. “Lilibet and I will stay sequestered in our rooms until they come for her, so I can help her focus and prepare mentally. I’ve already spoken to Binwee about having our meals delivered.” What I didn’t add was that Binwee would personally deliver and collect our meal trays herself, so it wouldappear as though we remained in our quarters until the very last possible minute.
I moved through the females like a mourner at a wake, graciously accepting their murmured condolences and gentle touches of sympathy, working hard to maintain the pretense of being heartbroken and resigned rather than churning with desperate hope our plan might actually work.
The room I shared with Lilibet lay at the far end of the corridor. The thick Altairian carpeting beneath my feet would muffle any sound when we made our escape. I pressed my palm against the ornate door panel, feeling the familiar warmth of thebio-scanner as it recognized my touch and granted entry with a pneumatic hiss.
The chamber revealed itself in all its gaudy splendor, a monument to excess that resembled a New Orleans bordello fever dream. Velvet drapes cascaded from the vaulted ceiling, while gilt-framed mirrors reflected the room’s opulent furnishings back into infinity. The air hung heavy with the cloying scent of synthetic florals, a perfume designed to mask the underlying staleness of recycled atmosphere.
“Lilibet,” I called out, my voice trembled as it carried across the chamber. Qurbaga’s drying slime formed an increasingly uncomfortable second skin, making my flesh crawl. I desperately needed a bath, but some things transcended personal comfort—and this was one of them.
“Jolie!” Her voice rang out like bells, high and sweet and filled with the pure joy that only children could summon—even in the darkest circumstances. She appeared in the doorway to her sleeping alcove, tiny legs pumping as she raced toward me, dark pink curls bouncing around her face like a halo of spun cotton candy. Though she stood no taller than a toddler, her brilliant emerald eyes held a depth of wisdom that spoke of experiences no child should ever possess. Her skin glowed with a soft lavender hue, a shade lighter than her mother’s had been, like twilight compared to deep evening.
Saishie.
Her name still sent a pang of grief through my chest. Like Binwee, she had been my salvation in those first terrifying weeks of captivity. The gentle soul who had taken me under her wing and taught me the delicate art of survival in Qurbaga’s harem. How to craft compliments that would stroke his mountainous ego without triggering his unpredictable wrath. How to navigate the treacherous social currents of the harem without making enemies. She had arrived only a short time before me, tornfrom her homeworld while heavy with child, forced to watch the Kerzak raiders slaughter her beloved husband before dragging her into slavery.
When Lilibet’s birth had gone catastrophically wrong, I had fought death itself using every scrap of medical knowledge I possessed. My specialty had been oncology—I knew how to battle cancer, not deliver babies—but I had tried everything to keep her alive. Still, it hadn’t been enough. With her final breath, Saishie had pressed her daughter into my arms and made me swear an oath that had become the cornerstone of my existence: to love and protect her child as if she were my own flesh and blood.
A promise I intended to keep.
“Did you have fun?” Lilibet launched herself into my arms, her small body warm and solid against my chest as I lifted her and spun us both in a dizzying circle until her delighted giggles filled the air. She understood that we harem girls sometimes visited the prince, but I had explained that these encounters were merely playdates, a deception to preserve whatever innocence she had left.
“Of course,” I replied with an exaggerated smile that felt like it might crack my face. I pressed gentle kisses to her soft cheeks that smelled faintly of the herbal soap Binwee smuggled to us from the kitchens. Qurbaga plied the harem with vats of scented soap, but I couldn’t stand the idea of Lilibet smelling like she belonged in a whorehouse.
I carried her to the gaudily upholstered sofa—its fabric a riot of purple silk and golden tassels that would have made a Parisian courtesan weep with envy—and settled, cradling her tiny form in my lap.
“Guess what?” I whispered, my voice taking on the conspiratorial tone that always preceded her favorite stories.
