A tall, grey-skinned man strides toward us. His clothing shimmers with embedded technology, and his black hair is cut short in what must be merchant-class style.
Lira bows deeply, and I mimic the gesture just half a second behind her.
“Archon Val, the Celestial Spire is honored by your presence. How may we serve you?”
The Imperial's gaze slides past Lira, focusing entirely on me as I straighten.
“A new acquisition?” he asks, addressing Lira while continuing to stare at me. “I wasn't aware the Spire was importing fresh stock from Earth.”
Heat rises to my cheeks.
“As you can see, her ID reads receptionist and human liaison,” Lira explains. “Eve was transferred from our Terra Sanctum property on Earth.”
“Fascinating.” He steps closer to me. “I haven't encountered a human fresh from Earth in years.”
Without warning, he extends a spindly grey hand and touches my hair, lifting a strand as if examining fabric. I remain frozen, unsure how to respond to what feels like a violation.
“Extraordinarily rich brown color. The only species in the galaxy with natural brown hair,” he comments. “Genuine?”
Lira intervenes, removing his hand from me. “Archon Val, I should note that Madame Eve is a protected member of staffunder the Sovereigns' personal authority. They've requested that all interactions remain professional.”
The Imperial's black eyebrows rise slightly. “The Sovereigns' personal project? How intriguing.” He smiles, revealing teeth too perfect to be natural. “My apologies for the familiarity. One becomes accustomed to certainlibertieswith human entertainment. I take it she won't be available for guest services?”
“Not our receptionist, no,” Lira replies without missing a beat.
“Pity. May I request her likeness to be programmed into the entertainment systems? It's torture to have such an appealing human female at the front desk without carnal access.”
His casual dehumanization steals my breath away. My first instinct is to slap him, but what would that accomplish? It might only reinforce his view that humans aren’t meant to be treated as equals, and it would definitely earn me a public punishment.
“Unfortunately, no. You are welcome to bring your disappointment to management.”
“I will.” He looks me up and down one last time, then turns back to Lira. “I require information about the Lyran delegation's arrival. My suite should be adjacent to theirs.”
“Yes. Of course,” Lira says. “Let me arrange that for you.”
When he finally leaves the reception desk, Lira turns to me with concern. “Eve, I’m so sorry that happened. I had no idea he was going to touch you. Are you all right?”
“He touched me like I was communal property.”
“That's why I mentioned your protected status. As the Sovereigns' personal hire, you have special considerations. No one, not even an Imperial, can interfere with their property.” She winces at her own phrasing. “I mean, their staff. But technically we are alltheirs,you know, as long as we work here.”
The slip is telling. Even Lira, who seems genuinely kind, views the distinction between staff and property as semantics rather than fundamental rights.
“Did this happen to Denise?” I ask, thinking about her being abducted.
“Sometimes, but there’s a difference between the two of you.”
“What’s that?”
Lira looks at me in disbelief. “Don’t you know?”
“Know what?”
“You’re considered to be one star in a galaxy.”
“I’ve heard people say that, but I don’t know what it means.”
“You’re very pleasing to the eye, both in form and coloring. And because of that, some men will continue to purposely confuse your status. But if this keeps happening, I will help you talk to someone from the Starlight Array, and they can issue you a Consent Band—a simple silver bracelet keyed to your ID necklace. Then, if anyone lays a hand on you without your approval, they will receive a sharp neural sting.”
