A smile curved his lips. Even the gods agreed she was perfect for him.
The comm display flickered, and the emperor's face resolved on the screen. He looked tired, there were shadows under his eyes that hadn't been there three days ago, but his expression was calm.
"Sub-Commander." Daaynal's gaze flicked down to Amelia's sleeping form, then back up. He didn't comment. "Your report."
Thyaar straightened slightly, careful not to jostle her.
"The mission to retrieve the cat was successful, Your Majesty." He kept his voice even and professional. "Unfortunately, we encountered C'Vaal pirates en route. Three ships. They believed you were aboard and attempted to board."
"I see." Daaynal's expression didn't change. "And the outcome?"
"My apologies, but the Vett'an sustained some damage. The boarding party was neutralized. The Parat'Vial responded to our emergency beacon and provided escort. We're currently en route to Parac'Norr at reduced speed,” he explained, carefully leaving out the part where Barnaby had disabled the lateral drive array by stepping on a console, or how Amelia had broken out of the sealed bedroom by jamming the lock panel. He left out how the terran cat had turned into some kind of murder-beast and taken down two pirates on his own.
He was definitely leaving out what had happened in the Emperor's bed.
Some things the Emperor did not need to know.
Daaynal studied him for a long moment. "And the female? As I recall your mission was to collect a cat, not collect yourself a female as well. "
"She was caring for Lady Emily's cat when I arrived." Thyaar's hand found Amelia's hip through the blanket. "She... came with him."
One of Daaynal's eyebrows rose a fraction. "Came with him."
"It's a long story, Your Majesty."
"I imagine it is. It usually is where human females are concerned." Amusement washed over Daaynal’s expression. "And your injuries?"
"Minor." They weren't minor. He still ached despite the medical patches, and his ribs sent a sharp complaint every time he breathed too deep. But he'd had worse. "The Vett'an's medical systems are adequate."
"The Vett'an's medical systems are exceptional," Daaynal corrected. "I had them upgraded myself."
"Yes, of course, Your Majesty."
Barnaby chose that moment to wake up.
The cat stretched… a full-body ripple that started at his nose and ended at the tip of his tail, then stood. Jumping up, he walked directly across the console. His paws hit buttons Thyaar hadn't even known were there. A secondary display flickered on and off. The environmental controls beeped in protest.
Then he sat down directly in front of the comm screen, his back to the Emperor, and yowled.
It was a long, theatrical, deeply offended sound. The kind of yowl that said he had been neglected, abandoned, and was probably dying of starvation despite having eaten three hours ago.
Daaynal blinked.
"Is that," the Emperor of the Latharian Empire said slowly, "a cat's... rear end?"
Thyaar sighed. "I'm afraid so, Your Majesty. Bear with me, I'll try to move him."
He reached for Barnaby. Barnaby flattened his ears and yowled again, louder, his tail lashing against the display. The Emperor's face flickered behind twelve pounds of furious ginger cat.
Daaynal laughed.
It was a real laugh—short and surprised. Thyaar froze with his hand still extended.
"Don't bother." Daaynal's voice was warm with amusement. "It appears you're currently under the command of a far higher power than I am. You'd better feed him."
"Yes, Your Majesty." He dropped his hand. "Err… both of you,” he added quickly as Barnaby shot him an offended look.
The corner of Daaynal's mouth quirked up. "And Thyaar?"
