Page 45 of Protected by the Alien Warrior Triad

14

Tammy

I’m led up a flight of opulent stone stairs towards the front doors of this immense mansion, while I see the Aurelians frog-marched to a pathway leading behind the estate.

When the massive doors in front of me open, it’s all I can do not to gape like a country bumpkin.

Growing up near the Capital, I knew that there was wealth behind the walls of the city – yet until now, I had no real understanding of the extent of them.

Everything I see now demonstrates the incredible influence and power that an oligarch like Lord Aeron can command. As I step into the hallway beyond the doors, I see that almost everything around me is lined in gold. It’s as though I’ve stepped back in time, and I realize that the décor has been chosen to make this mansion look as though it came from the home planet of our species, Earth, many millennia ago.

Overhead, a huge crystal chandelier hangs above us, light reflecting off it beautifully in a million directions. The rays of reflected sunlight glimmer off the gleaming gold and ornate mirrors all around. The entire mansion is clearly designed to resonate with an aura of overwhelming wealth and power – to make everyone who walks into this house – whether they’re a dirty hobo or an honored dignitary – feel equally small and unworthy in comparison to the owner of the estate.

I keep my head up, though. I won’t let this décor have that effect on me. It’s all just smoke and mirrors anyway – a psychological trick – and given that I just survived the living hellscape and fiery oblivion of Barl, I have every right to feel proud of myself.

Lord Aeron might have a beautiful house, but he’s done nothing to help the former citizens of Barl.In fact, I have a horrible suspicion that the man who owns this palace is the same voice of power that made the grim decision to cut the planet’s losses and scorch the Scorp-infested city of Barl – along with all its surviving citizens. He’d rather sacrifice thousands than bring in a defense force to try and eradicate the Scorp warriors.

With that in mind, I come to a halt in front of a looming staircase, guilded and glittering.

A tall, thin man walks down the stairs slowly, with an air of importance about him. This stranger isn’t covered in jewelry and riches as I’d have imagined Lord Aeron to be. Instead, he wears a simple, hooded robe – plain brown. Whoever he is, this man clearly doesn’t feel he needs fancy clothing or gleaming riches to demonstrate his importance. The guards shift nervously on their feet as he approaches, proving his point.

“Viceroy,” says Captain Arnold with deep respect. I see the soldiers accompanying us quiver at the approach of this slender man.

The stranger comes to a halt before me – his balding head reflecting the light from the chandelier overhead, and his thin lips pursing as he inspects me.

“This is the survivor that you told us about?”

“Yes, Viceroy,” responds Captain Arnold.

It’s ironic. Arnold was so brave and bold in the battlefield – a powerful and respected leader of his troops.

Now, here in this manor house, he radiated none of that power or confidence. I realize he desperately wants to leave.

I can’t blame him. There’s some kind of darkness emanating from this man he calls the Viceroy. The tall, slender man looksthroughme; as if I don’t even exist as a human being. I feel he considers me nothing but another pawn on a chessboard so large that it spans entire galaxies.

“What is your name?”

The Viceroy’s eyes meet mine and I shiver. They’re cold – a frigid, light-blue that’s almost-grey. They stare at me with glacial intensity – never even blinking.

Despite myself, I look down -somehow unable to meet and hold his gaze.

“Tammy,” I mutter, and I’m ashamed at the quiver in my voice.

“How did you survive the attack?”

The captain clears his throat. “The lady is shaken by the events today, Lord Viceroy. Her perception of events are…warped. Perhaps it’s best you talk to her in private.”

The cold eyes of the Viceroy move slowly towards Captain Arnold. If he looked at me like I was merely a pawn, the slender stranger looks at the Captain as if he’s nothing but a bug – buzzing irritably around the room.

“I did not pose the question toyou,Captain Arnold.”

I swallow, trying to focus my thoughts. I have the grim suspicion that my answer will determine my fate – right down to whether or not I leave this mansion alive.

But what does he want to hear? If I tell him the truth, I might be in trouble. I might be painted as a traitor to my own species. This Viceroy works for Lord Aeron, the highest voice for anti-Aurelian sentiment on the planet!

“I barely made it out alive, your Excellence,” I say, remembering the honorary title for a Viceroy of a noble house. “I… I was… Iamvery lucky.”

The Viceroy nods. I can tell he’s pleased at my answer, and instantly I realize he was testing me.

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