Page 75 of Alien God

“Well, you’d best help me look, and quick!” I smiled at Aiko’s command of her younger brother. “How am I supposed to cut the lord’s bread without a knife?”

A note of anxiety entered her voice at that last part, which wiped away my smile. It bothered me that these young Sionnachans would be so worried about pleasing me, or not pleasing me. They didn’t know me well enough to realize that I cared little about things like whether my breakfast bread came pre-sliced.

I stiffened, wondering if, rather than not knowing me well enough, it was because they’d watched me with Torrance. Watched my anger towards her, the way I’d made her a prisoner when imprisonment was a concept almost completely foreign to them.

“Calm, Aiko,” I said, stepping into the warm, fragrant kitchen.

Shoshen and Aiko both spun at my voice, flattening their ears.

“Forgive me, my lord! I did not realize you were awake yet! Breakfast will be ready momentarily. I just need to find-”

“The knives?” I raised my hand, slowly bringing them down from the high shelf to the counter. “I apologize. I moved them last night and did not think to tell you. There was a... moment with the prisoner. I thought it better to move anything sharp out of her reach.”

Aiko’s green eyes went wide as stone saucers.

“You think she would have used them, my lord?” Aiko gasped. “On a person? I must admit, she’s been nothing but good to us, despite the circumstances. I brought her dinner last night and could understand her for the first time; she thanked me, and spoke kind words to me.”

I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to caution Aiko, to tell her not to believe Torrance too much, that it was likely a show to gain their trust for some nefarious purpose. But I’d have to push down that sort of thinking now. I needed to prove to everyone that I loved Torrance, that I trusted her implicitly. That probably starts with the knives, I thought, eyeing them on the counter. If Torrance was to be my wife, I couldn’t hide kitchen objects from her like she was a child.

I thought of her face when I’d suggested she might hurt a Sionnachan. There had been instant shock and horror at my words, the kind not easily faked. No! she’d said. I’d never hurt Aiko and Shoshen! I thought also of her shining, gentle joy at being with the sontanna, and her hopeful excitement about being able to understand animals. It seemed there was maybe some true goodness in her after all.

I rather wish there wasn’t.

But at the very least, I did now think it was unlikely she’d hurt one of the Sionnachans. Her goodness aside, she seemed clever and at least somewhat reasonable. Now that she’d accepted our bargain, and her friends and freedom were at stake, she wouldn’t ruin it with something that wouldn’t help her situation, like using a knife on someone.

The knives stay there, then.

A new anxiety seemed to have entered the Sionnachans. I watched them closely as their gazes went from the knives to me and back again, their tails bushy with nervous energy.

“What is it?” I asked them.

“Well, my lord,” Aiko began uncertainly, her ears flattening, “I cannot imagine you were happy about Torrance – the prisoner – getting out and trying to use a knife for something. Is she... is she... still here?”

They think I killed her.

“Yes,” I said forcefully, feeling oddly dizzy all of a sudden. “She’s fine. She’s upstairs, and will require breakfast, as always.”

Aiko and Shoshen both relaxed visibly. This was more than just their Sionnachan abhorrence at the idea of killing another person. They’d grown to like Torrance. That irked me, but I reminded myself it was actually a good thing. It would make our ruse all the smoother going forward.

“Speaking of Torrance,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm and firm, “she is no longer a prisoner.”

A bolt went through the siblings.

“My lord?” Shoshen asked, and Aiko’s face echoed his question.

I cleared my throat, trying to figure out exactly what sort of emotion to let through. Should I appear happy? Relaxed? Grave? Mates were a serious matter, after all. Blast. I talked about Torrance failing in her role, and I’m already floundering just trying to tell two Sionnachans!

I settled on a smooth, serious tone, as if I were merely touching on some necessary part of daily life, mentioning some bit of the castle that needed repair or the status of the weather outside.

“She is no longer a prisoner because she is my mate. We will marry.”

The siblings stared at me as if they hadn’t quite understood what I’d said. Finally, Aiko was the one who spoke first, a tentative smile touching her orange and white face.

“My lord! Congratulations to you both! A wedding, oh, that is cause for celebration indeed!” Something turned quiet and nostalgic in her voice. “We were always told, growing up, about your father Cynewylf’s great love for Sashkah. To think that you are now following in his footsteps, finding your fated bride in the very same place – on Sionnach!”

I, too, had noticed the parallels. But the differences were more worthy of note. My parents had starburned for each other. They had been true mates and had always set before me the example of what a husband and wife should be. Loving. Respectful. Diligently devoted to one another and to their child.

My wings tightened, and with no small amount of pain, I thrust the memories of their love away. I couldn’t think about them now – it made me feel too much like I was doing something wrong. That this sham of a marriage in the house they’d built was some sort of dishonour to them. And it reminded me too much of what I’d lost. Reminded me I’d never have what they’d had.

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