Page 29 of Summer

“That is where you’re wrong, brother. Mother and Father will wish to present you at the first ball of the season, at the Viscountess Kierant’s estate. That is in a fortnight, and Mother will spare no expense on dressing you both to reflect our status. You can dance, can you not?” I ask Summer.

“We learned a waltz or two at Protegre,” she admits.

“That won’t be enough. Mother will want to ensure you don’t embarrass us. Being human may make you interesting and further proof of their status and wealth, but do not think that excuses you from being part of society.” I glare at the two of them.

“If Mother so much as thinks something is amiss, she will do everything in her power to undermine you,” I tell them.

“We know that,” Summer hisses. “It’s been hard to plan when we don’t get much privacy.” She looks pointedly at me, and her heated gaze makes my stomach flip. I want to remind her about the position I had her in last night, one where she wasn’t able to talk back to me. I wonder if she’s remembering my hands in her hair, my fingers pressed to her scalp, my…

“But with you aware of the general plan, things can move smoother,” Aaoric says, interrupting my thoughts. “You are her chaperone; you are my sister. It will not seem strange for you to be with us.”

“At times it will,” Summer cuts in. “Why would I get to know your sister when I should be getting to know you? It would be strange, I think, for us three to be so close.”

“It’s not strange at all,” Aaoric counters with a laugh. “It would be stranger if you did not. After all, she’s going to be your sister. Well,” he pauses. “Not really, but she would be in our lives always.”

I open my mouth to agree, but the words halt on my tongue. I think through the friends and acquaintances through the years who married and took over their estates. None of them had unmarried sisters as old as I was.

“Fine,” Summer relents. “If that’s what it takes to get me out of here, I’ll take it.”

13

SUMMER

The week at the country estate is over too quickly, and I’m loathe to return to the manor. It is not freedom – I’m still escorted everywhere, and Gennelle a shadow at my back – but it’s the closest to it I’ve felt since my arrest.

Gennelle. Every night, I wonder if she’ll return to my room. Every night, I stand before my door, wondering if I should turn the lock. I decide not to, but she never comes.

My dreams are filled with her. She visits me every night in them, her fingers tracing my bare skin, her hand fisted in my hair. It’s all I can do to keep myself from barging into her room when I awake in a pile of my own sweat, my pussy soaked and wanting.

Returning to the estate means the wedding preparations and balls and less chance to plan with Aaoric. I cannot figure out why he is so adamant about remaining single, especially if it means he will become duke. I suppose being raised in such excess makes it impossible to imagine life without. He doesn’t know how easy he has it, how gentle life has been on him.

Once we return, the duchess does not hesitate to corner me and ask questions of our time away. Gennelle remains alongside me, her hands folded in front of her. She’s the very picture of a quiet, caring daughter.

“How was the countryside?” she asks me, her gaze unflinching.

“It was very beautiful,” I say, painting on the stupid smile I learned at Protegre. “I am so thankful you allowed me to journey and see where we’ll be raising our children.”

Her gaze slides to Gennelle and she speaks in Tatinnish. “What does your brother say to this?”

Gennelle sighs. “Aaoric made it clear he intends to make the best of this, especially if it’s to spite Father. I do not think he truly loves the human, perhaps he just finds her passably attractive. I think his motives are to anger Father.”

I want to step on her foot. It’s one thing to keep up appearances of disbelief, it’s another to insinuate that Aaoric may not actually care for me. That is important to his freedom after my escape. His mourning period will only extend so far if they do not believe he cares for me.

“Hmm,” the duchess says. “And her? She will supply him with children?”

Gennelle’s eyes sweep over me once, and the disgust there is not a farce. “She talks only of balls, marriage, and children. I hope Aaoric does not grow bored with her before he produces an heir.”

So, this is my life now – pretending to be in love with my alien captor, that purchased me like chattel, so I may escape. My smile falters but I power through, because I’m too close to give up now. This is where the stakes are highest. I survived Protegre, I can survive a few aristocrats.

“Summer,” the duchess says to me, her smile wide and bright. “We must begin planning for the wedding. Tomorrow, we head to Celvae to have you fitted for a dress. We need new furniture for the drawing room – that’s where it will happen. I’ll not have Aaoric married in the church like a commoner. The attendance will be sparse…” She trails off, her gaze snapping to mine. “Does your…family…intend to come?”

My family.

“No, your grace,” I say, because I cannot bring myself to say much more. What would they think if they knew what happened to their youngest daughter? Far across the universe, in this strange copse of planets modeled after an era long since passed on Earth. Frozen for centuries in this strange amalgam of regency, Victorian, and Edwardian Earth eras. Kings, queens, dukes, duchesses…they would laugh. Earth, despite how fractured and war torn it is, would cackle at the thought of space regency modeled after Earth.

Those thoughts lighten my mood enough to suffer through the duchess prattling on about floral arrangements, what I am to wear, where we are to stand, what color the chairs for the guests will be…without once asking my opinion.

Stars help whatever female Aaoric eventually marries. Even if he takes the two-year mourning period he plans, his mother will find a way to throw another bride at him. I hope she doesn’t have a single care for her wedding, because it is very clearly not about her.