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Her voice came out high and thin. “I-I don’t know what Evlon is. The ship just took off. I got stuck inside. I didn’t mean to. Please don’t kill me!”
Tristan’s mother stepped forward and placed her palm on the barrel of his blaster, encouraging him to lower it. “Enough, Tristan. Can’t you see she’s frightened out of her wits?”
“This could be a trick.” When his mother moved to approach the female, Tristan gripped her by the elbow. “Doona be fooled.”
“And you doonabea fool, son. There is no danger here. This is but a frightened girl.” Then she pulled free of his grip and strode forward to kneel by the shaking female.
He put her in his blaster’s sights once more and, following his example, his brigade did the same, some even charging their weapons in preparation to fire if the female made a move against their former queen.
The whirring sound brought his mother’s fierce gaze around. “I said enough! Lower your weapons or I will lower them for you.”
After years of taking orders from her, the soldiers did as commanded. Tristan was not yet sole commander. And he was not yet ready to obey. Neither was Belinda. His mother’s piercing gaze landed on each of them in turn. He implored her with a look, but she was resolved. Finally, the two lowered their weapons. Yet Tristan remained tense, his finger kissing the trigger.
“Now then…” His mother turned back to the girl. “You’re okay. No one will harm you. See?”
The girl looked up, eyes glossy, cheeks damp. She regarded the former queen, that blade still clutched in her trembling fist. Tristan resisted the urge to raise his blaster once more. He didn’t like his mother so close to a potential threat, especially one that might be Kayadon in disguise.
Then something enigmatic seemed to pass between the two females, and the strange girl dropped her little blade to throw her arms around his mother and began sobbing uncontrollably.
His mother petted the girl’s hair. “It’s okay, dearling. You’re safe now.”
It sounded as if the girl was trying to say something, but the words were garbled around her hysteria.
“Calm yourself,” his mother cooed. “Let’s get you off this ship and into a warm bath. Then you can tell me all about it.” Pulling the girl to stand, his mother guided her past Tristan and the row of befuddled soldiers. Belinda followed, giving him a look of assurance that she would not let anything happen to her mistress.
Baffled and aggravated, and weirdly frustrated, Tristan regained control of his troops. “Get me the ship’s logs and let no corner of this ship go unsearched. I want to know what the hell is going on.”
4
The knot in Tristan’s stomach constricted as he stepped onto Evlon soil. The planet was as beautiful and majestic as ever, not that he expected a lot to have changed in the few weeks he’d been away, burying his father and getting his clan in order. He just hadn’t recalled it being so irritatingly lively.
Stone lichen reached up for nourishment of Evlon’s two setting suns that warmed the air to a comfortable degree. The sizzling hum of dancing sparkbugs filled his ears. Forest critters chirped and trilled and warbled happily while colorful birds tweeted and sang above. Even the Serakian’s protective, dome-like bubble of mystical energy shimmered with electric life. A creature unseen leapt from one high branch to another.
A dark pall had settled over his heart after the war. This was where his father had died. This was where Tristan had failed. The least this planet could do was try not to be so fucking peppy foronegodforsaken minute—
All at once, the forest fell silent.
Alarmed, Tristan tensed and glanced around in search of the source of the disturbance. A moment later he found it and his shoulders eased. The so-called human—according to the reports—emerged from the ship alongside his mother. They were accompanied by both Orik and Belinda, dressed in their finest uniforms.
The human had been washed and dressed in one of his mother’s less ostentatious gowns, a teal flowy thing with barely there straps and a deep neckline that instantly drew his eye. He’d convinced himself her figure had been embellished by his vengeance-drugged mind having shifted so drastically from expecting a Kayadon soldier to finding a lonesome female in distress. But now there was no denying her attraction, however inconsequential as it was.
As they approached, the human’s skirt swished with the graceful movement of her hips, her toned legs peeking out of the high center slit with every advancing step. He was in the midst of postulating why his mother had opted to dress the stray so richly instead of borrowing one of her servants’ gowns when they reached him. Tristan tore his gaze away from the human’s legs to find his mother smirking slightly.
“Doesn’t she look lovely?”
Knowing his mother would not let him go without a genial reply, he muttered, “Indeed.”
Then he gave her another scan. Her dark hair had been slightly curled and pulled back, with a few tendrils designed to frame her face and emphasize her exposed neck and deep, lagoon-colored eyes. The earrings were clearly from his mother’s collection of priceless trinkets and somehow made the sapphire in her irises stand out all the more. Her lips were stained and glossed and plump, with a little natural line that cut down the center of the bottom one. If he wasn’t still harboring some suspicions about her, he’d say she was stunning to behold.
The girl smiled shyly and crossed her arms, clearly unused to being scrutinized, but the action only plumped her breasts higher, drawing his gaze once more.
His mother simpered, looking pleased with herself. “It’s amazing what a fine dress and a team of stylists can do.”
He cleared the sudden gravel from his throat. “Indeed.”Wait, I already said that.The wild girl was gone, a lady in her place. If not for the slight blush in her cheeks and the insecurity in her stance, he could almost believe she belonged among them. He should take care that his mother did not get too attached to this strange girl, lest she start carting her around like a pet everywhere they went.
“Tristan.” His mother turned a bit more formal. “Meet Lady Juniper of Earth. She prefers to be called June, though Juniper suits her better, don’t you agree? Lady June, this is my son, Tristan, whom I was telling you about.”
He was weirdly curious what his mother might have told this girl about him—
