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I’ll start there.
It became easier with a starting point. The cushioned ledge was wide enough for me to sleep on, though I had to beat the cushion with a bat I found in a corner in order to remove a thick layer of dust. The window latches were almost rusted shut from years of disuse, but I managed to pry it open with a little effort and perhaps a few scratches on my fingers. The blissful night air exorcised the smell of “old” within minutes.
I simply stood by the window for a few minutes, inhaling deeply, trying to figure out why the air felt so different on this Star. Was it the air, or was it me?
Every box was neatly labeled “stuff,” which meant I had to open up each one to figure out its contents. In the third box, I found some couch cushions and a throw, which I decided to repurpose as a pillow and blanket. I laid them out on my makeshift bed and relabeled the boxes according to their purposes and stacked them neatly in a corner along with the black box I’d been delivered in.
I’d reorganize the rest of the room tomorrow, I promised myself. My body felt entirely drained after being racked by nervous energy all day inside a small box.
The journey hadn’t been unpleasant, truly. While the boxes were handled with care by the delivery bots, the anxiety looping through my body hadn’t allowed me to rest for a single moment. The thought of being discovered and dragged back to Royal One sat heavily in my gut and I’d spent most of the journey breathing deeply in meditation—or trying to anyway.
As I pulled the old throw over my chest, I looked out of the window at the clear night sky. It was the same sky I saw yesterday and had seen all my life. But now, I was looking up at it from a different place—no longer a Royal, but a starperson in charge of my own life...maybe. Or was that wishful thinking?
I knew I’d just have to see what tomorrow would bring.
A loud crash awakened me some hours later, followed by a string of harsh curses. Surging upright, I rubbed my eyes, pulling the covers over my cold shoulders. I’d left the window open just a crack to filter the air in the room, but the night chill had taken over quickly.
I pulled the throw around my body like a cape and padded back to the living room, finding my way well enough despite the darkness. The rooms were pretty bare anyway.
I paused in the doorway, taking in the sprawled form on the sofa and the bottle of half-drunk distilled spirit on the floor. There wasn’t a label on the bottle; it was probably homemade. A quick look out of the front windows told me that the bonfire had finally whittled down, an indication that the Feast festivities were over.
I walked over to Cedra’s sleeping form and tapped on her shoulder. She would rest easier in bed since her tall form barely fit the sofa and its worn fabric did not look at all comfortable.
“Cedra,” I said in a stage whisper before thinking I should’ve said “ma’am.” A bot would’ve said “ma’am.”
She made a sound of acknowledgment at the back of her throat.
“Let me help you to bed.”
I reached for her arm but she pushed me away with surprising force and I stumbled onto my bottom.
“You’re a liar, Riane,” she murmured, turning her face away from me, but not before I’d noticed that her canines were much more elongated than before.
From my studies, fangs usually reacted to extreme emotions felt by the host.
I remained on the floor, wondering who Riane was and why Cedra had mistaken me for her. I was certain there wasn’t anyone else living in the house. It was too quiet.
After a few long moments, I realized Cedra didn’t want to be moved. So, I did the only thing I knew. When I’d overimbibed, the bots would help me get undressed and into bed to make sure I was comfortable. Something told me Cedra wouldn’t like to be touched in such a way, but removing her thick outer T-shirt and work boots didn’t seem out of the question.
So that was what I did.
She protested minimally, her fingers taking swipes at me as I tried to work the shirt off her shoulders. When I finally did succeed, clutching the outer shirt to the front of my chest, she rolled onto her back with a sigh and threw an arm over her eyes.
The defined muscles in her arm bunched in a beautiful display of strength.
Years ago, I remembered studying that the farming starpeople were very physically fit, and that was a way to tell the class difference between a Royal and a starperson. I looked down at my own soft rounded belly—well, in this case, the study was one hundred percent accurate.
I took my time studying her tall form. Without running the risk of turning red with embarrassment, I realized that she was a lean specimen under her baggy work clothes. From this angle, her stomach looked well-toned and her breasts were small and flat against her chest. She looked hard all over, and I wondered what it would be like to lie on top of her, to touch her. To see if she ever became soft and gentle.
My cheeks heated at the thought.
It wasn’t a secret that I’d lived a very sheltered life—my parents saw to that. They gave me the best education in the fanciest all-girls schools and didn’t deny me anything I wanted...except a choice in my marriage.
They’d wanted it to be a political one, something that would raise our status on Royal One. But, even with that in mind, I just couldn’t marry the simpering fool they’d picked out for me. Tion had been nice, but he’d also been a coward under his mother’s thumb. He ran multimillion-credit businesses but his mother ran him.
I’d disliked him on sight.
Looking at Cedra’s tightly toned body, however, I felt an unexpected warmth rush through me—something I hadn’t experienced in years. Something I hadn’t felt since school. Since Leigha.
