“Because of the terraforming?”
“No, because my ancestor defeated all those who would have tried to take his land. He launched several successful campaigns from this island. None could hope to defeat him. He set out to conquer the planet but died before he could see it done. His daughter followed in his footsteps. She became the first queen of my family line.”
“Oh.” Starling stared at the island.
It was lush and green. But then, she was looking at an aerial view from space. Closer up, she might actually see the palace and villages and the like. The view the projection afforded her only allowed her to see the rippling mountains surrounding the lake. No sneak attacks from there. There had to be a quick way in and out, otherwise Bekion’s ancestor would have made himself a very elaborate tomb.
But that wasn’t why she had wanted to see the planet. She reached out and made the hand motion Bekion had earlier. The projection moved. That caused another round of murmurs, which she ignored. They would get used to her eventually.
A large river caught her eye. She stopped the projection above it and pointed. “Can you make it bigger?”
Bekion reached out and tapped the spot she indicated. The map expanded and grew, showing a closer view of the river. “It is interesting, pretty pet, that you would choose this location.”
“Oh?”
“This is the very river causing such contention between Lady Ruset and Lord Orvey.”
Lucky
, Starling thought to herself. Her original goal in requesting the map had been to find the longest or the widest river.
She found a river with a width that almost split one continent in half. It could be two separate landmasses, except the river tapered off and disappeared into a large chunk of flat land that connected one side to the other.
She asked, “What’s so special about the river?”
“That is a good question.” Bekion turned his gaze to Ruset. “What would be your answer, Lady Ruset? Why struggle so hard to keep what has always been a neutral territory?”
Lady Ruset sat up straighter and cleared her throat. “Your Majesty, the river has always been acknowledged as part of my lands. If it is no longer to be considered neutral then it should be named legally mine.”
Lord Orvey huffed a few times. “King Bekion, that river is only hers in her delusional mind. Her lands are mountainous while mine are flat. The river curves around and
avoids
the mountain before resuming its original path. The river itself declares itself part of my territory.”
“You would claim dominion over the intent of nature now, Orvey? How arrogant and pretentious can you be?”
“Better that I be arrogant than deluded, Ruset. No river belongs to a mountain. It has always been a mutually agreed upon neutral point. If anything, it should remain as such. If not, then it should naturally go to me.”
“That argument is as unnatural as your hair.”
Starling stared at the pair with a raised eyebrow. Really? They had resorted to defaming one another like children. She looked at Bekion.
He said in a loud voice over Lady Ruset and Lord Orvey’s continued maligning of each other, “You two both voiced valid reasons and arguments. I shall think on this matter. Until I do, the river is neutral and cannot be claimed.”
Neither looked happy. That didn’t make sense to Starling. Orvey had lobbied for the river to be neutral. He was getting his way and yet he looked as upset about Bekion’s decision as Ruset.
Starling wanted to ask but she kept her mouth shut. To stave off the temptation of joining the conversation further, she forced herself to concentrate on her tablet. She was still confused why Bekion had called her there. But then, Bekion himself confused her.
Chapter Seven
“So ends this week’s session,” Bekion said.
His nobles bowed to him before blanking their screens. Once the last person left, Bekion turned his attention to Starling. She didn’t falter or act as if she planned to stop working.
Bekion decided he would watch her for a short time. He reclined against the back of his seat, able to relax after the two-hour-long meeting. Starling adjusted her position so she remained hunched over the tablet and continued writing.
He had officially owned Starling for ten hours—one full day. In that time, she had completely usurped his normal routine. His thoughts had wandered back to Starling when he should have been concentrating on the reports of his high-ranking nobles. His only recourse had been to summon her in hope that her presence would alleviate the problem.
He didn’t know if it was her or the act of owning a pet that so distracted him. The latter made more sense. While attractive in her human way, Starling was not to his tastes.
“Huh?” Starling looked up from her work at the empty room and then glanced over her shoulder at him. “Did the meeting end?”
He smiled at her confusion. “Three minutes ago. I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
“You should have said something.” She tapped the tablet before pushing it away. “Now what?”
Bekion was about to answer when Rois entered the room. Nausic and the other guards followed. Rois bowed. “Lunch is ready, Bekion.”
“Good.” Bekion slipped his arm under Starling’s legs as he stood.
She leaned down and snatched up her tablet then righted herself.
“Do you think you will be able to eat this time?”
Starling snapped, “It’s your fault I didn’t eat last time.”
“You started eating before I could warn you.”
She
harrumphed
and Bekion laughed. He walked toward the door, which Rois opened for him.
Nausic stood on the other side. He held out his hand, indicating Starling, and said in a grudging voice, “I will carry her, Sire.”
Bekion breezed past Nausic. “No need.”
Starling said, “Or I could walk.”
“Indulge me for a time, pretty pet. I’m sure I will grow out of this whim soon.” He smiled at her.
She shrugged. “Whatever.”
Holding her wasn’t much of a burden. Starling weighed very little. For her size, that worried him. He needed to make sure she had proper meals, especially after her episode at breakfast.
They reached his chambers, where his staff waited with the table set for lunch. After settling himself and Starling at the table, the servers uncovered the dishes.
Starling looked at the food with suspicion.
Bekion said with a knowing smile, “The
pelbuah
is absent. The cook will no longer serve it.”
“Good.” She reached for her fork and then proceeded to taste test every food before committing to eating it.
He had never been so entertained during a meal. His relaxed attitude surprised him as well. Something he hadn’t felt at a meal in years.
Furielle entered from the inner chamber. She held a dress draped over her arm and looked very pleased. The expression dropped when she saw Starling.
Bekion asked, “Is there something amiss, Furielle?”
The woman rushed over to Starling and touched his pretty pet’s head. “What happened to her hair?”
Starling moved her head from beneath Furielle’s hands. “I braided it.”
“Why?” Furielle asked.
Bekion said at the same time, “I didn’t give you permission to do that.”
Starling set down her fork and took a breath. “Look, you. I am sick of arguing with you and I’ve only known you for two days.”
“Then do as I say,” Bekion said in a matter-of-fact tone.
She gripped her fork once more and looked as though she would throw it at him. After a moment, she set it down. “I’m not doing this. I braided my hair. End of discussion.” She resumed eating.
Bekion sipped his drink as he watched her. She thought she had won. He would have to disillusion her of that. “Take it out, Furielle.”
The woman nodded. She signaled behind her to another woman, who approached with a brush.
Starling snatched up her knife and pointed it at Furielle and the hairdresser. “Do it and you’ll lose some blood.”
Both women hesitated, giving Bekion worried looks.
Starling faced Bekion. “It’s time for a cultural lesson. In order for my hair to stay that cute little cloud you’re so fond of playing with, it has to be combed out constantly. It’ll compact and turn into one huge knot otherwise. That’ll happen faster with you petting it, which I hate by the way. That much combing will weaken my hair, making it break off as well as damage my scalp.”
He nodded, not commenting.
“As well, there is a cleanliness issue. My hair will not dry completely after being washed because air cannot reach my scalp and you won’t let me use a hair dryer. That will cause mildew, which is disgusting and smells horrible. I would personally like to avoid that.” She put her hands on her hips.
Everyone in the room stood in silence, waiting for Bekion’s reaction.
He digested her words. While he would never say it aloud, he agreed with Starling. He had grown tired of arguing. Debates, discussions and arguments filled his days. His time in his chambers meant a break from that.
He said, “Furielle, do as I ordered.”
Starling’s mouth worked but she seemed too upset to voice any of her words.
Her reaction made him grin. He may not like arguing with her but teasing her had fast become a favored pastime. “Redo the braids so they are more ornate. These plain rows are not befitting her station.”
Furielle said quickly, “As you wish, Your Majesty. Right away.”
Starling deflated, her anger dissipating, and stared at him with a look of disbelief.
“I conceded your point, pretty pet. Thank you for educating me.”
She dropped her head against the tabletop. “You make my head hurt.”
“And you are very excitable. It would have been easier to tell me these things from the beginning rather than assume I would give in to your demands. I am not in the habit of denying my own wishes unless there is a valid cause to do so.”
She sat up and stuck her tongue out at him. The hairdresser chose that moment to step forward. The woman touched Starling’s head hesitantly. Starling straightened then tilted her head down. A position for having her hair done. At least she seemed used to such a practice. Bekion could forget that worry. Her dislike must be people touching her head for no reason. He would remember that.
Starling said, “Bekion, let’s meet in the middle and make a deal that will save a lot of trouble in the future.”
He sat back and tented his fingers, with his elbows resting on the chair armrests. “By all means. I would prefer that.”
“I’ll try to remember I’m a pet, specifically
your
pet, if you remember that I’m not one. I’m sentient, cognizant and I was completely independent until those pirates kidnapped me and brought me here. Can we do that?”
“I’m sure it will be an effort for both of us, though I am willing to try.”
“Me too.”
“Done.” He held out his hand to her. Normally he wouldn’t think to make a deal with a pet and then seal that deal in this manner but this was the first concession to her words.
She shook his hand. Her smile at the gesture was well worth accepting her terms. She looked much better when she smiled. He would remember that as well.
They ate the rest of the meal in silence. Starling didn’t even seem bothered at having to move her head to accommodate the hairdresser. Bekion also noted she had a healthy appetite.
Bekion said, “I’m glad the rest of Panagiota’s food is agreeable to you.”
She nodded. “I really like this juice. It’s good.” She raised her glass so the maid could refill it for the fifth time.
“It’s wine, not juice.”
Starling froze with the cup at her lips. “What?” she said in the barest whisper.
“Wine, an alcohol derived from juice. Do your people not have it?” He frowned as she set the cup away. Her scared expression surprised him. “You act as though you have never had alcohol before.”
She touched her mouth.
“Starling?” Bekion thought she would be sick again. He didn’t like the idea of his pet having such a weak stomach. The nanites should be able to alleviate such an inconvenience.
She whispered, “That was alcohol?”
“Yes. You didn’t know?”
“No. I never… I don’t…” She looked down at her hands. Fear seemed to radiate from her entire being.
Bekion rose and walked to her side of the table. “What has you so afraid, Starling?”
“I can’t have alcohol. The last time I did, it almost killed me.”
All movement in the room stopped as everyone stared at Starling and Bekion.
He laid a hand on her shoulder.
She said, “I have a very low tolerance for things like alcohol and medicine. Deathly low. The poachers who took me almost killed me with whatever they used to knock me out.”
“How do you feel now?”
“Fine. I guess.”
Some of the tension within Bekion eased. He rubbed her shoulder and smiled when she looked up at him. “That means the nanites are performing their task as they should. Pretty pet, you could ingest poison and it would not affect you so long as your nanites are present.”
“You’re sure?”
“I have seen proof of it firsthand.” He nodded at the shock reflected in her eyes. “I am a monarch after all. Not all those who would do me harm are willing to brave confronting my guards to attack me in an overt manner.”
She looked at the glass. “So I can drink this and it won’t do anything to me?”
“The nanites can be reprogrammed to allow you to feel the effects of inebriation on a tolerable level, if you so choose.”
“No thank you.”
Bekion patted her shoulder and then returned to his seat. He smiled as Starling picked up the glass once more and sipped at it. She seemed to be testing his statement. That amused him. She already had proof of his words after drinking four cups of the wine but shock seemed to make her forget that fact.
Yes, he didn’t ever see himself growing bored with Starling as a pet.
* * * * *
Starling flopped onto the floor of the bedroom with a tired noise. Behind her, Bekion laughed. She glanced back at him, not knowing what he found funny since he had to be tired too.
He said, “You will grow used to my schedule in due time, pretty pet.”
“You’re only one person. How can they expect you to stay healthy with such a hellish schedule?”
She thought back on all the meetings and negotiations. Even dinner, which they ate in the main dining hall, had been rife with political talk and posturing. It seemed the only time Bekion could be alone was breakfast and lunch. Or had he done that for her sake?
Whatever the case may be, she appreciated when everyone finally left them alone. Furielle, the last person to go, delivered a new nightgown the seamstresses had made for Starling and then made sure it fit before she left.
Bekion said, “I was groomed from a young age to handle this schedule. It is my duty as the king of Panagiota.” He bent, lifted Starling, carried her to the couch and placed her on the cushions. “Lie here so no one tramples you if they rush in without looking where they are walking.”
She grunted as she flipped over. She remembered her arm cuffs a second before they almost struck each other and kept them apart. “How am I supposed to sleep without setting these things off? Are you going to take them off?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Someone had tied cloth around her wrists the night before. Fatigue had kept her from noticing until that morning when she took them off. She wouldn’t be able to ignore something like that again.
She started to tell Bekion as much when he took her hand in his and touched his cuff to hers. A short, sharp beep sounded and the indicator light on Starling’s cuffs de-illuminated.
He straightened. “There. The chime is inactive.”
“It is?” She eyed the cuffs skeptically.
“Test it if you doubt me.”
She held her hands out as far as she could and, wincing back, she tapped the cuffs against each other. Nothing happened. She pulled her arms close to her body and knocked the cuffs together with more force.
Again, nothing.
Bekion said, “The cuffs are in sleep mode. If you tap them while sleeping, they will not chime.”
“What happens if you forget to turn them back on?”
“There is a failsafe.”
“And that’s what exactly?”
“A failsafe is a program written into the cuffs that—”
“I know the definition of failsafe! What is the failsafe that will kick in when you forget to reactivate my cuffs, like I know you will?”