Page 64 of The Pregnancy Pact

I hesitated a moment before stripping off Ellax’s borrowed shirt, then remembered this was a mecha, not a conscious being, and I didn’t have anything to be ashamed of anyway. So, I pulled the shirt off, tossing it on the chair, pulled on my bra from yesterday, and then started dressing myself in the black pants, which were formfitting yet light and comfortable. It felt a little odd wearing a dead woman’s clothing, like I was trying to step into her shoes when marrying her husband and assuming her role had never been part of my life’s plans. Still, I knew I was lucky the clothes were here and, even luckier, that they fit.

Dorrys made a funny tssking sound.

“You need prettier underthings,” she said. “My mistress always wore the finest.”

I glanced up sharply. A mecha judging my bra and panties? Ouch.

“I guess it’s been so long since anybody’s seen them or anybody cared that I haven’t bought anything pretty in a while,” I admitted.

“Well, you are married now. I will find you underthings and outer things suitable for your station and for Lord Ellax’s pleasure.”

“Oh, mercy.”

I felt my cheeks get warm, imagining standing in front of my new Asterion husband in some new lacy, frilly panties.

He probably would like that. Goodness knows, Charlie didn’t care.

Despite Dorrys not being technically alive, I still felt like I was being compared to her former mistress, stretch marks, cellulite on my thighs, and all. I was happy when I was finally dressed. She directed to me the spacious bathroom, which was all chrome and whites and golds, seating me in front of a massive mirror where she went to work on my hair. Her hands were surprisingly adept, for a robot. At first, I’d wondered if they might tangle in my hair, but before I knew it, she had my hair brushed out, gleaming from the products she worked in, then woven into a stylistic braid that was far more complex than anything I could have done myself.

“I would suggest these,” she finished, pulling a pair of earrings from her pocket. They were long, slim gold bars, delicate and arresting all at once.

“Fine by me,” I shrugged.

By the time she looked me over and pronounced me fit to receive guests, I felt much better. I stole a glance at myself on the way out. The clothes were foreign. The hairstyle was definitely foreign. The jewelry more ornate than anything I would’ve worn at home. And yet—somehow this mecha had taken one look at me as a human, used to a simpler style, and meshed it effortlessly with the Asterion love of the ornate. While I’d never blend in, being from a different species, she’d managed to help me appear presentable both as a human and an Elder’s wife.

I look good, I thought, pausing for a final glimpse in the mirror before I followed her outside. I ran my hand over the sleek red tunic and down my hips. I felt good. Better than I’d felt in ages.

Theoretically, having that small measure of self-confidence restored could be because I finally had a husband who desired me, but I chose not to read too much into that. Head high, I followed Dorrys down the long corridors of Ellax’s mansion and towards my guest.

I didn’t pay all that much attention to my new surroundings, but I did notice there were paintings. Lots of them. Not hanging on the walls. Painted directly onto the walls themselves. The colors and décor of the mansion stood in sharp contrast to the sleekness and bareness of the space ship on which we’d traveled to this planet. Flowers and vines spilled out of vases, sometimes trailing greenery to the floor. In more corners than not, real trees or bushes stood aloft in painted pots. I’d never seen indoor plants like this. Earth had lots of greenhouses, where mostly alien scientists worked with human underlings, trying to restore our vegetation, but to have plants inside your home simply as something pretty?

It boggled the mind.

Still, I was too full of doubts over my impending meeting with Elder Sirena, as well as what might be happening off planet in Ellax’s meeting with the Interstellar Coalition, to give much thought to my new house. It did occur to me, as we passed yet another huge window allowing the glorious sunlight to pour in, that the mansion was mine now. Even though Ellax’s wife hadn’t been gone long, they clearly hadn’t been close. Would he care if I redecorated? Did I even want to? I didn’t know. Such notions spoke of a vague future that seemed so distant it didn’t bear bothering about at present.

Not when the future of so many fellow humans hung in the balance.

Chapter 37

Lorelai

“Greetings, Lady Lorelai.”

Sirena stood as I entered the room Dorrys led me to. It must have been a sitting room or parlor. It lacked the comfy, overstuffed sofas in my old living room back home, rescued from an abandoned warehouse by my parents, cleaned up, and given to Charlie and me as a wedding gift twenty-plus years ago. Instead, there were six prim chairs with embroidered cushions spaced about the room’s perimeter. I did wonder briefly, glancing about the room at the touches of gilt and pink, if this had been his wife’s sitting room. It didn’t seem very Ellax to me, but what did I know?

“Greetings,” I said.

As Dorrys wheeled herself back out of the room, I folded my hands at my waist and bowed, rather than stick out my hand to shake. Sirena did the same and I waved her to a seat.

“Please, sit down. May I offer you…” I paused. What did I offer her? What was considered appropriate at this time of the morning? What did we have on hand? “…refreshments?” I finished, comforted that Dorrys was at my beck and call and could surely fetch the right thing if needed.

“No. I need nothing. And I will stand. This is not a social call, Lorelai.”

I noticed she’d dropped the title. Not that it bothered me, yet I sensed it didn’t bode well.

“Okay.” I’d already sat, but I rose to face her. She didn’t need any further advantages over me.

“Your husband has been summoned off planet, I take it.”

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