“He chose the Drakian over Kadis.”
“He’s married an alien.”
“Why did his mother allow this?”
Ignoring the whispers, Sheala curtsied to the queen.
Then another voice rang out. “I, Kadis Jadisdotir, challenge this marriage.”
“Stupid bitch,” Sheala hissed mostly to herself as she rose to her feet.
As Kadis stepped around her table, she drew a claw across her arm. Blood trickled down over her wrist and dripped slowly to the floor.
“Blood challenge!” echoed through the crowd.
The queen eyed her niece. “Why?”
“My mother requested that Marljas become betrothed to me.”
Behind her Jadis hissed with anger.
Her brother smirked, ducked when his mother tried to slap him, glared at her, then slipped away from the table, his face contorted with anger.
“Your Majesty,” Teena stated in a flat voice. “Kadis speaks the truth. Her mother did propose a betrothal between my youngest son and her daughter. However, my family has never had any interest in a marriage between Marljas and Kadis. No betrothal was ever encouraged. I deny Kadis Jadisdotir’s challenge as nothing more than wishful thinking on the part of her and her mother.”
Jadis leaped to her feet again. “And what of the danger to the throne of Gattan!”
That comment shocked the crowd into silence.
Mattis stared at her sister, shock evident on her face. “Danger to Gattan? Because Marljas married a woman from another planet?” Nostrils flaring with obvious irritation, she leaned forward and stared at her sister. “Explain this danger to me,
Sister
.”
“Why, if something happened to the royal family, the line of ascension would revert to Drefes’ sons.
Marljas’ daughter could conceivably take the throne. Gattan does not want someone with alien blood to be her queen.” Jadis crossed her arms over her breasts, a smug look on her face.
More whispers circulated around the room. More than a few saw merit in Jadis’ argument.
The queen stared at her sister thoughtfully. “Let me clarify your train of thought. If I die, and both my daughters die before they have daughters of their own, Gattan will turn to the cadet branch of the royal line for its queen. So, if Marljas had a daughter, she would be in line for the throne. But he is the younger brother. Wendjas and Denieen are certainly young enough to have female children. They too would have to die before any daughter of Marljas could ascend the throne.” The queen paused. “That is assuming, of course, that Teena would not give birth to a daughter.”
Chuckling, Teena shook her head. “I’m fairly certain I will not give birth to any daughter, Your Majesty.”
The tension eased as many in the crowd chuckled with her.
Mattis smiled briefly at Teena then turned back to her sister. “A rather long and convoluted train of reasoning.” She held up her hand when her sister would have spoken. “However, to give credence to your…worries, you fear a non-Gattan queen.”
Jadis nodded. “As do many others in this hall.”
The queen looked around.
So did Sheala.
Many in the assembly had risen, scowls on their faces.
Others were angry.
Some leaned back in their chairs, obviously amused.
Satisfaction evident on her face, Jadis continued. “If Marljas remains married to this—alien—Gattan could possibly have a queen with unacceptable blood.”
“I see,” Mattis said. “And what would you suggest?”
Sheala’s blood ran cold, and she gripped Marljas’ hand.
He squeezed it. Looking down at her, he mouthed, “Don’t worry.”
She blinked back a tear.
Don’t worry? What else am I supposed to do? The queen is listening to her
sister.
Jadis voice was triumphant. “The marriage should be dissolved, and Marljas should be married to Kadis.”
The queen looked at Teena. “And what do you think of my sister’s reasoning?”
Teena looked directly into Jadis’ face. “If Your Majesty orders the dissolution of my son’s marriage to a girl I find completely acceptable, well then, I remind you that my family holds a signed betrothal contract between Sosha Kanicsdotir and Marljas. Sosha would become Marljas’ wife.”
The queen waved her hands. “There you have it, Jadis. Marljas is contracted to marry Sosha. A marriage to Kadis is unnecessary.”
Uncrossing her arms, Jadis snapped, “A man can have two wives.”
Teena unsheathed a claw on her right hand and ran her left index finger over it. “And why does my son need two wives, Jadis? Why is it necessary for him to marry
your
daughter?”
Jadis straightened to her full height. “She is the queen’s niece.”
“But if the queen and her daughters were dead,” gasps at her bluntness followed that comment from Teena, “Kadis would no longer be the queen’s niece. Our previous queen and Krondal’s father didn’t have any daughters, which is why the royal line descends through him to his daughters. Jadis, neither you nor your daughter have any royal blood. Until she married Krondal, Mattis was not royal.” It was unnecessary for Teena to continue because everyone in the room knew if Mattis and her daughters were dead, Teena herself would be queen with Denieen as her heir apparent because Drefes was the younger brother of Krondal’s father.
“Of course,” Teena continued after her short pause, “if Krondal survives the deaths of his current wife and daughters, he could always remarry. Then his new wife would become queen.” Teena’s voice grew stern. “However, nothing is going to happen to the queen or her children, Jadis, and I would sooner marry my son to a Varcian sand snake than to your spoiled daughter. What’s more, I would rather see the royal line of Gattan pass to another family than to see either you or your daughter influencing a child that could become our next queen.” Teena transferred her stare to the queen. “Your Majesty, never in all the history of Gattan has the royal family interfered in a mother’s right to marry her son to whom she wants. I can’t believe that it will do so now.”
Chin quivering, fists clenched, Kadis stomped forward. “You would have your son married to a woman who won’t share his bed!”
A look of amazement on her face, Teena allowed herself to gape at Kadis. Then she said, “A Drakian not share her husband’s bed?”
Drefes, Wendjas, and Denieen smiled.
Brianna and Char chuckled.
Ban’s laughter crashed against the walls of the hall.
Most in the crowd snickered. Every Gattan there knew about the Drakians’ hedonistic proclivities.
Teena turned to Sheala. “Do you share my son’s bed?”
Sheala grinned. “Of course.” Looking over at Kadis, she added, “Watch and learn, idiot.” Stepping in front of Marljas, she grabbed his braids and pulled his head down to hers. “Cooperate, or I’ll ride your cock until you can’t walk for a week,” she murmured against his mouth.
“Promise?” was his answer.
Cupping her ass in his big hands, he pulled her close.
Letting go of his left braid long enough to reach down and hike her dress almost to her waist, Sheala wrapped her bare leg around his and snaked her tail up around his thigh.
He shifted, spreading his legs.
As she concentrated all her senses on Marljas, the sounds around her became more and more muted until they finally disappeared. There was only him—his scent, his taste, his touch.
His lips slid across hers, soft at first, then more demanding.
She opened her mouth.
Their tongues parried with each other, danced apart, then mated.
“Mmmmmmmmmm,” escaped from her throat.
“Ahemmm.”
An elbow from Brianna in her ribs got Sheala’s attention, while a slap on the back of his head from his mother got Marljas’.
Slowly, Sheala uncurled her tail and slid her foot to the ground.
After one last squeeze of her buttocks, Marljas slid his hands up to her waist.
She let go of his braids and rested her head against his chest. After a long shaky breath, she turned, leaned back against him. After another shaky breath, she looked at the queen. “You wouldn’t happen to have an empty bedroom close by, would you?” She glanced over at Kadis. “If she still doesn’t believe that Marljas and I have a great sex life, she can come watch. She might learn a few things.”
Krondal’s bellow of laughter drowned out every comment, outraged and otherwise, that erupted from the crowd.
Mattis placed her hand on her husband’s arm. When he stopped laughing, she said, “I think, Kadis, you are mistaken.” Holding up her hand, she said, “Enough. Teena, your guests are welcome, and Brianna and Sheala are acknowledged as Marljas’ bloodsister and wife. All treaties negotiated with the Alalakans are acceptable to me.” She looked out over the crowd. “I suggest the rest of your tribes and families follow the
Leonine
lead. Gattan
will
learn to live with its neighbors—peacefully.”
“You fool!” Jadis screeched. “They are all beneath us. It is Gattan’s destiny to conquer and rule. You are too softhearted to be queen. Krondal should have married me. Men would know their places, and we would rule the galaxy.”
“Treason!” gasped some in the crowd.
Others murmured their agreement.
Only a few cheered.
As Mattis surged to her feet and leaned across the table, a thrumming noise reverberated around the hall, and two arrows thunked into the back of the chair where she’d been sitting.
“Assassins!” Krondal bellowed as he overturned the table, tackled his wife behind it, and covered her body with his.
More arrows buried themselves in the table.
Pandemonium ensued as more tables were flipped over. Stray plates rolled across the floor. Cutlery clattered.
Some of the queen’s guests leaped across the tables.
Shouts and screams reverberated around the room.
“Get down!” Marljas commanded as he pushed Sheala to the floor and fell on top of her.
“This is not how I want to be underneath you!” Sheala yelled.
But Marljas was far stronger than she and kept her pinned to the floor.
She tried to wiggle free. “We have to help.”
“Don’t move,” he snarled in her ear, “or I swear you will not sit for a week!”
Beneath him, Sheala froze. Were Gattan males allowed to talk like that to females?
An arrow thunked into the floor.
She looked out from under his arm. The shaft quivered not two inches from his shoulder.
“Chardadon,” Drefes yelled as he scrambled over the table towards his wife. “Get Brianna out of here.
Wendjas, Deni must go too.”
Both men hurried their wives out. Brianna led the way at a dead run, yelling for her son.
“Where’s Bjin?” Char yelled as he shouldered past a Gattan who’d stepped in front of him.
“Gone!” Ban yelled back. He stood with Kahn and Beti. All three were using their bodies to block any arrows that might fly after the retreating couples.
Char stopped at the door and looked back. “Sheala!”
“Marljas has her,” Ban yelled. “I’ll make sure she stays safe.”
“The nursery,” Sheala heard Krondal roar.
Four of the men who’d been guarding him rolled, zigzagged across the floor, and disappeared out the door through which the queen and king had entered earlier.
Almost immediately, Marljas pushed himself off her.
More arrows whirred. Most flew towards the dais. One of the priestess-warriors fell. Sheala ducked as an arrow flew past her head as she spun around on her knees. Marljas cursed as blood trickled from his arm.
“Marljas!”
“It’s only a scratch!” Another arrow whizzed by. “By all that’s holy, Sheala, get behind that table.
Now!” he snarled as he jumped up on the dais to help defend the queen and king.
Rising to her hands and knees, she crawled towards the barricade.
Off to her left, a man fell, an arrow through his thigh. Cursing, he broke off the end, grabbed the part sticking out the back of his leg, and pulled it through.
Blood spurted.
Ripping a long strip of cloth from her hem as she ran, a woman sprinted from behind the table where the queen’s sister had sat and knelt next to him.
Changing direction, Sheala scrambled to her, wadded up the hem of her own gown and pressed it against the bleeding wound. As she kept pressure on it, the other woman tied the strip of cloth above the wound and tightened it.
Slowly, Sheala pulled her hands away.
The wound stopped spurting.
The woman nodded to her. “My thanks, wife of Marljas Drefeson.” After the man struggled to his feet, both he and the woman staggered towards safety.
Still crouching on the floor, Sheala looked around. She expected to see people panicking, running in all directions. Some were. Some ran towards the king and queen—to help or hinder, she didn’t know.
Others stood with unsheathed claws, watching, waiting.
All of the arrows were raining down on and about the royal dais.
“Up there,” Ban shouted, “on the balcony. There are at least two dozen.”
He and the two Aradabs leaped over the table and stood before the dais in a loose semicircle, deftly sidestepping any arrows that came near them.
Kahn caught one in midair, flipped it, and threw it at the closest archer.
A loud curse told Sheala he’d found his mark.
“Damn it, Sheala, get out of there!” Ban bellowed when he saw her still kneeling on the floor.
She rolled towards the table, but a dagger whizzed past her ear and sprouted in front of her face.
She blinked and looked around.
Kadis crouched next to a table, a satisfied smirk on her face.
“Damn it, Sheala,” Ban yelled again. “Get under this.” An ornamental shield slid towards her, and she pulled it over her back. An arrow careened off it and slid across the floor. Sheala shivered then awkwardly crawled towards the table.
On the dais, Marljas felt relief surge through his body when Ban slid the shield across the floor to Sheala.
Stopping to help the wounded man was honorable but stupid. She could have been killed!
An arrow sliced the air next to his ear and he ducked.
Next to him, Krondal still hovered over his wife. Guards crouched around them.
“Are you both all right?”