With a jolt, our bodies are released from the wall and our legs crumple beneath us. We land on our asses in a pool of quickly draining water, my head thudding slightly off the glass door.
Opal takes in a sharp gasp of air just as she’s hit in the face with a blast of water from the jets. She pushes her hand up to block the fine spray and starts to laugh. Her laughter is so pure and melodic, I can’t help myself and begin to laugh too. I pull her onto my lap, and we’re both laughing so hard that tears are welling in our eyes. Opal throws her head back, and snorts through her nose—and if I thought I was losing it before, that adorable noise sets me over the edge. My chest heaves with a howl I can’t control.
How bizarre that the universe has brought us together. How small was the chance we would ever meet each other? I say a silent prayer to the goddess in thanks.
Opal wipes a tear from my cheek, wraps her arms around my neck, and squeezes me tightly as she attempts to get control of her breathing.
“Come, let’s dress and greet your future kingdom.” I stand and pull her up.
She looks at me, slightly flustered but still chuckling. “You know, I’d really love to wash the baby gravy off myself before the grand debut. I’d prefer not to inspire the photographers with anything but mynatural beautyafter last time?” She winks and flips her hair dramatically.
I snort again as my translator chip sends ridiculous images to my brain of what it thinks baby gravy might be. The human language is an enchanting one.
CHAPTER9
?THE OLD WAYS?
?OPAL
I’m surroundedby armed fi’len guards, their iridescent armor glinting as we rush down the incredibly long palace hall lined with windows. Between the twenty or so guards surrounding me, and Ke’ain clutching me to his side, I can’t see anything.
“So, is there a game plan?” I whisper into Ke’ain’s torso as my little human legs do double time to keep pace with the hulking aliens around me.
“Yes, we marry, I protect you, we annihilate the Deenz.” Ke’ain tosses me a bright smile.
“Yeah yeah, I’ve got that part.” I roll my eyes. “I mean right now, where are we headed?”
“I assume we're on our way to meet with the king’s council. I’ll need to appoint the hand of the king before we can do anything.” He peers around the guards' heads, as if he just now realizes he doesn’t know where we're being led either.
“I suppose that’s pretty important. Who are you going to appoint as hand of the king?”
“Well, there’s only one person I trust to do it...” The guards stop and swing open the double doors to a large conference-style room. The table at its center looks as though it’s made of some kind of black obsidian. Along one side several stuffy-looking fi’len are seated, including a familiar face. “Gra’eth.”
Gra’eth pushes back from the table, his high-backed black chair clattering to the ground as he rushes toward us.
“I thought you were both dead!” His eyes are wide and almost wet as he pulls Ke’ain into a crushing embrace. “Your parents, Ke’ain...” He pulls back hesitantly.
“I know, Gra’eth, I know.”
“All hail the king,” Gra’eth whispers as he bows his head.
“And your future queen,” Ke’ain says as he presents me with a flourish of his hand.
Gra’eth shoots up straight as a rod and narrows his eyes before shaking his head slightly as if to clear his thoughts.
“My queen,” he says, bowing as he takes my hand and kisses it.
Queen.The reality of my situation hasn’t sunk in yet. I am a college dropout. How am I going to rule a whole goddamn planet? Is there aRoyalty For Dummieshandbook I can check out of a space library?
Ke’ain clears his throat. “Gra’eth, feel free to release her hand any moment.” The annoyance is palpable in his voice.
“Oh let him fuss, Ke’ain,” I scold.
Gra’eth releases my hand quickly, despite my complaint. He stands and smiles, as if we’re the prettiest thing he’s seen all day.
“My apologies, King Ke’ain,” Gra’eth says, switching to a more formal speech pattern, “we have pressing business to attend to. You must name your hand. I’ve got a dossier of suitable candidates.” He pulls his data pad from his jacket pocket.
“You are my hand,” Ke’ain says plainly.
