Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 64359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“My queen, we have several outfits for you.”
At some point, some time later, I am woken from a very nice nap by Aristo, whose arms are absolutely laden with freshly made attire. There are a great many regal gowns, but there are also some more practical pieces. My human form must have been previously known to the tailors, for without measuring me they have somehow approximated my proportions and measurements. Did Emrys tell them that too?
“How did they know what size to make these things? They don’t have any measurements, do they?”
“They saw you as you walked past, and they are blessed with gifts of observation. Our species is sometimes referred to as walking calculators. Something to do with needing to understand prey well, I imagine. The moment you stepped out of your ship, any one of us could have guessed your size, weight, speed, and many other qualities.”
“Oh, yes? What else?”
“It is easily discerned that you are given to falsehoods.”
I freeze as he says those words. Am I about to be busted? Did they just play along in some elaborate game only to catch me out at this moment?”
“Do not look so offended,” he says. “All humans are liars.”
“That is probably true,” I agree, smiling. I am not offended, and I am glad he misread my expression to think I was.
“Something probably true is the last thing any human would say,” Aristo says.
“Alright. Let’s not make a big deal out of it, unless you have some specific lie you’d like to catch me in.”
He smiles, and I have a creeping sensation that I do not know something I really very much need to know.
I settle on a very nice outfit which is a skirt, but not nearly as long as any of the others I’ve worn lately. This one flows in an A-line cut to just below my knee. Knee-high boots offer coverage to the lower half of my leg. The upper part of my body is clad in a light bodice, a sort of almost corset type garment that cinches in around my waist and makes the most of my shape. It’s an outfit that makes me look and feel rather powerful as I examine myself in the mirror. Of course, it doesn’t have the nanobot blocking powers of the roll of tinfoil I was wearing, but you can’t have everything.
“A human mate fit for a king’s sacrifice,” Aristo says.
“Hmmm? What was that about sacrifice?”
“Love is sacrifice, is it not? Here, have another ice cream.”
I take the ice cream, because it is very, very good. It’s cool, which ameliorates some of the omnipresent heat of the planet. It’s also one of the tastiest things I’ve ever consumed. It has bits of crispy caramelized sugar throughout it, so there’s a creamy softness and then a crunchy goodness. Good textures existing in contrast.
As I eat, I can’t help but muse that humans aren’t the only bad liars. In between fresh spoonfuls of ice cream, I ruminate on the fact that it’s time for me to get out of here. Just as soon as I have a little more of that sweet ambrosia they make. For creatures who mostly drink blood, they have an impressive spread of sweet treats on hand for my delectation.
Yes, it has occurred to me that I am being Hansel and Greteled. That’s an ancient human tale about a couple of abandoned kids who found their way to a woman who lived in a house made of food who snatched them up and put them in a cage and fed them with the notion of eventually cooking them. As a result, I’ve always been careful to avoid women who live in houses made of confectionary.
“I’ll put the other clothes away in the wardrobe,” he says. “You can change at your pleasure, and of course, if you want anything else, anything at all, please let me know.”
“I’d like fifty thousand credits transferred into an account of my choosing,” I say.
Aristo looks at me blankly. “Why would you want that?”
“Why wouldn’t I want that?”
He gives a little sigh. “I suppose that is a valid argument, but I am not at liberty to transfer vast amounts of the king’s personal funds to humans. If you want an allowance, you need to ask Emrys. He is a generous monarch. You may very well find…”
“Can I have three credits?”
“I could arrange that, yes.”
“Can I have thirty?”
“Indeed.”
“What about three hundred?”
“That would be an acceptable amount.”
“How about three thousand?”
Aristo gives me a stern look, as if I am an indulged brat he has the misfortune of having to attend to. “I see what you are doing, and it will not work. The threshold for allocating you money is a lot lower than fifty thousand credits. There is nowhere to spend it down here anyway, and there is nothing you need to buy. You are being provided with everything you could ever need. Money is not going to be an issue for you ever again.”