Page 15 of The Marriage Bargain

I sank back against the seat, my mind blazing.

Delle on an official list. No longer rumors. Official. Claiming her a matter of seniority.

I had some seniority here at the Citadel, as the leader of a building crew. However, that didn’t count for much when it came to placing my name against potential candidates like those on the military crews. The only thing that might weigh the odds in my favor was my connection with my father. I had come to Earth to escape that heritage. Dare I use it now, even to try and protect the woman I had met last night?

CHAPTER 11

DELLE

By the time I reluctantly ventured into the living room, uncertain of what I’d find so far as my brother-in-law’s Asterion visitor went, he was already gone. His bedding was neatly folded and stacked at one end of the couch. A folded slip of paper lay on top of the pile. Curious, I picked it up.

Many thanks for your hospitality, the note read. If I can ever return the favor, please do not hesitate to ask.

It was signed simply, “C.”

The handwriting was a tad crude, but legible. Despite myself, I was impressed by the alien’s commitment to learning Earth ways. Most aliens, rather than try to actually learn our language, had a translating chip imbedded in their right wrist, which allowed them to hear and speak foreign languages. They then actively spoke our dialect in order to simplify communication between all parties. Learning our handwriting was another thing entirely. There was no chip for that. I’d seen examples of Asterion writing. It was long, fluid, and loopy, like human cursive on steroids. Many Asterions, so I’d been told, considered our handwriting primitive, ugly, and didn’t bother learning it.

Caide had.

What did that suggest about him? That he was committed to his life here on Earth?

Yeah, as an interloper. An Overlord, I grumped. Squishing the note in my first, I dropped it in the nearest wastebasket and headed to the kitchen to make breakfast.

I told myself I didn’t have time to think about the alien or deal with any unwanted feelings he’d evoked. It wasn’t much of a lie. As soon as my nieces were awake, my day became a whirlwind of looking after the kids. Later that afternoon, Tarra was able to come home from the hospital. The doctors had put her on new medication to help control the vomiting. The unfortunate side effect was that it made her tired and sleepy. Which meant the next several days consisted of Zyn and I hustling to readjust our schedules so somebody could always be there with her and the kids.

“Three more months,” I whispered to myself, exhausted as I clocked out of work about a week after she’d gone to the hospital and I’d personally met my first Asterion Overlord. “Three more months.”

It had become something of a mantra. Three more months of constantly caring for my sister’s kids, my sister, and juggling my job at the eatery. It was the phrase I whispered to get myself through the days when I felt the most overwhelmed. A promise that life would one day return to normal, and I could go back to pursuing my dreams.

But would pursuing my dreams ever really happen?

Each day that I spent in the mundane—albeit always exciting, because when raising little people there was always something going on—made the fantastic seem far out of reach. I was hanging on by a thread, or so it felt. Like things couldn’t get any crazier. Couldn’t get any worse.

Boy, was I wrong.

I was buttoning my coat against the winter chill when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out. Zyn. My brother-in-law was off work and covering for me at home. What did he want?

I pressed the button to read his text message.

I left paperwork back at my office in the Citadel that I was supposed to fill out tonight and bring in tomorrow morning. Would you mind getting it for me when you get off work? Just tell the guards at the gate who you are and what you want. They may phone me to verify, but they should let you through. I already messaged my boss, and he left the office unlocked. Tarra’s really not feeling well, and I hate to leave her. Thanks.

I let out a little sigh at the idea of another job to do. On the other hand, spending a few extra minutes alone, driving around, didn’t sound unappealing. Once I got back to the house, the kids would be all over me.

Let their dad handle them awhile longer, I decided, and typed out a message to my brother-in-law, letting him know I’d pick up the papers.

Bumping along the rough, muddy road a few minutes later, I found my mind drifting to the part of my brother-in-law’s message that had mentioned his boss. It had been a full week, and I hadn’t seen or heard from the Overlord since. Not that I was expecting to or anything. Occasionally he popped up in Zyn’s conversation, but not often. Still, the whole encounter of spending the night under the same roof as him and then him just being gone…

It was a little weird. Left me feeling a little weird.

The drive to the Citadel wasn’t long, so I didn’t have much time to contemplate the weirdness. As soon as I saw the Citadel, my attention was captured anyway. The walls loomed over me by a good fifteen feet or more. High enough to hinder any bands of wild humans, while offering protection to the humans and aliens within. Piercing the sky were the spires and towers of the Castle—the nickname we Earthlings had given the Citadel’s main, central edifice. That was rather what it resembled—an alien version of our ancient castles. The Castle held offices for nearly all of the Overlord officials, whatever their occupation. Overlord Caide, as head of one of the main building crews, had an office there, inside the Castle.

Which I might need help finding, I fretted. The Castle was a huge place.

Surrounding the Castle, inside the Citadel’s walls, were homes, shops, warehouses, and other Asterion structures that lined the paved streets. Ultimately, every street within the Citadel led back to the Castle, reminding me of an archaic expression about an ancient power on Earth, long deposed— “All roads lead to Rome.” Not to Rome any longer, but to the Castle inside the Citadel.

Clustered at the gate were several guards in typical Asterion uniforms. A couple were humans but most Asterion. Along with them were a few aliens of a different race, wearing a different sort of uniform from the Asterions. I knew the Citadel sometimes hosted other members of the Interstellar Coalition for training purposes, so I didn’t think much about it. The Citadel guards appeared to be going over paperwork with the other aliens, and giving them instructions on where to go. I put my old truck in park and, quietly observing, waited my turn to speak with the guards. No way would the Asterions simply let anyone pass unchallenged into the Citadel, their seat of power here, and I was no exception.

Breaking away from the cluster of human and alien males, an Asterion guard approached.

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