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Avalar nodded. She let a few more moments of silence pass, then glanced at the tray next to Quaia. “Well. Have you had enough?” she asked.
Quaia looked at the food that was now soggy and cold. “I think so,” she said, pushing the tray away. She realized immediately how rude she was being. “And thank you. For bringing the food. And for keeping me company.” She looked up into Avalar’s eyes and forced herself to smile. “I really appreciate it,” she said.
Avalar picked up the tray and stood. She looked inside, then at Quaia. “You are most welcome. I am sorry you did not find the meal more appetizing.”
“The meat was very good,” Quaia said, shaking her head. “I wasn’t that hungry. I don’t… I’m not usually so cranky,” she muttered, still feeling bad about the way she’d treated the Vokl.
Avalar touched her on the shoulder. “It is a difficult time for you. There is no need to apologize. I enjoyed our conversation. Perhaps we can do it again at some point.”
Quaia flashed a final, weak smile at her guest. She watched Avalar turn, open the hatch with a wave of her hand, then disappear into the corridor. She instinctively glanced at her wrist only to realize she’d been forced to remove her timepiece. She had no idea what time it was, but a yawn and her boredom had her pressing her head against the pillow and closing her eyes.
She fell into sleep quickly.
CHAPTER 9
She stood in the center of Torian’s compartment, bleary-eyed and fog-headed. She wasn’t sure how long she’d slept, but was fairly certain it hadn’t even been half a cycle. She’d been awakened from a deep sleep and had barely been able to follow her escort, stumbling after him, still trying to wake up.
Torian stood behind his desk with his arms folded across his powerful chest, eyeing her with a stern, somewhat scornful gaze. A long silence stretched between them before he spoke. “Did you forget my final instruction before you were escorted to your quarters?” he finally asked.
She blinked away the last of the sleep from her eyes, rubbed her head, then shook it. “I don’t… I can’t…” she stammered.
Torian dropped his arms and walked slowly to where she was standing. He put his hands on the lapels of her robe and pulled the sides apart.
Her eyes fell to her chest and her mind filled with the memory of what he’d said. He’d ordered her to appear exactly as she’d left. She barely had time to wake up and hadn’t changed out of the top and pants that had been left for her on the bed. She’d thrown the robe on for added warmth and not given it another thought. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I was half asleep when…”
“This time your apology is welcome,” Torian interrupted. “But I am afraid there are consequences for disobedience.”
She gave her head another shake. “I wasn’t being disobedient, I just didn’t…”
“Silence, please,” Torian said, holding up a hand. “I am not interested in excuses here. I am interested in results. And while this oversight of yours may very well be innocent, it is not something I can simply ignore,” he explained.
Quaia rolled her eyes at him. “It was a mistake,” she shot back. “Which you would know if you didn’t keep interrup—”
“Whether it was accidental or intentional is irrelevant,” he said, his tone even and steely.
She let out an exasperated sigh. “That’s ridiculous,” she muttered.
He took a step closer, his face now just a few inches from hers. “Quaia Sangsen,” he said, his voice low. “The religious origins of this ritual are unknown to me. But the Imperator, your current emperor I might add, made one thing abundantly clear. This ritual submission is made not to your High Mother or her clucking entourage. It is not even made to the emperor himself. By following my orders exactly, you are demonstrating your allegiance to the Federation. You are proving that, if called to its service, you will answer that call to the highest standards and the best of your ability. In turn, the Federation grants you access to its commercial opportunities as well as the protection of the empire, should you need it. In this room,” he said, waving a pointed finger in a circle. “In this room, I am the Federation. I am the empire. You will do as I say, or you will endure the consequences of your failures.”
The explanation took her aback. From the moment she’d first learned about the Ripening, she’d only ever considered it a perverted orgy of overindulgence and decadence. That was the only way High Mother or any of the others had celebrated it, too. To hear it described in such… political terms was startling. And surprisingly enlightening, given Torian’s eloquence. “Okay…” she murmured, confused. “I… I guess I never thought about it that way,” she said quietly.
He straightened, his large torso looming over her. But he seemed somewhat appeased by her response to his lecture. “In that case, I am glad I could be of some use in your education,” he said. “But the matter remains that you failed to heed my instruction.” He stepped around her and lifted her robe.
She gasped and jumped when he yanked her pants halfway down her legs. Her cheeks flushed hot as he inspected her rear. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him turn and look at her.
“Two counts of disobedience,” he said.
He stepped behind her and pulled the robe off her shoulders. A confusing medley of sensations: he did it with authority, but his fingers brushed over her collarbone, tracing the shape of it gingerly.
“Again, your apology is welcome, accepted, and a good first step. You show signs of remorse and contrition. I will take those into account as I deliver your punishment.” He folded the robe and dropped it on the table before walking to his desk and pulling out his rod. He pointed it at the table. “Assume the position,” he said.
Her ambivalent feelings returned: she was naturally inclined to defy authority, and normally she would have indulged her defiance in some small way. But the memory of how he’d handled her previously filled her with a cool, slithering desire instead. Her fingers acted on their own, working under the elastic of her pants to pull them up again.
“Leave those as they are,” he said.
She blushed, heating up inside, and stood up straight. Each step vibrating with the queer combination of humiliation and arousal, she walked over to the table and pressed her palms against it. She lowered her torso and did her best to spread her legs as wide as she could.
“Three counts, I see,” Torian said. “You are missing your footwear.”
