Page 35 of Bonded Queen: to the Alien Warlord Triad

“But that massage was incredible. Thank you so much, I feel like I’m on a cloud. And don’t worry. You can speak freely with me.”

I imagine her hands working my feet, but I couldn’t deal with the embarrassment of having her kneel in front of me like a slave while I’m getting my hair done.

I get a flash of a vision in my mind, a thought from nowhere—of kneeling in front of Orr, looking up at his powerful, muscled body, while he stares down at me with barely contained hunger.

“I just met them today too,” I say, in wonder. “The leader of the three. That’s Ra’al. He’s…” I blink to myself, trying to put it in words. “He’s the mostalienof the three, if that makes sense. Sometimes the way he looks, it’s like he’s seeing the future, like he doesn’t know where he is, until he looks at me. Then he’s there.”

I clear my throat. “Orr—I’m sorry for the way Orr talked to you, by the way. He’s brutal. Fierce. That’s the one with the shaved head.”

“He looks like a bull,” says Raneeda, then covers her mouth with her hand.

“Don’t apologize. It’s natural. We do not take offense,” answers Nash.

“And Kriz. He’s smart, I can tell that already. I don’t know what else to say about him.”

“Whatever they are, they’re still men. And these ones have spent hundreds of years at war. The touch of a good woman could help them. Please, take a look in the mirror.”

“Wow,” I say, seeing myself in the mirror, blinking a couple times in surprise.

While I was dozing, half asleep, Nash worked a miracle.

My hair doesn’t look any shorter, though I see blonde hair on the ground, but it’s like it has…layers in it? It looks thicker, healthier, framing and presenting my face instead of just being a bunch of hair on my head that just gets in the way of cleaning. I never really thought of myself as anything special when I was a servant. Some of the other women liked to flirt with the soldiers, some passing the hours in their beds, but I was always there to work, ignoring the advances and brushing off comments when they hit on me.

I just figured the guards were bored when they made advances.

Now, I’m seeing myself in a new light.

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re brilliant.”

Nash grins in pride. “I built my business up from the ground. Unfortunately, now it’s a pile of rubble. Ashes to ashes, isn’t that what they say? That’s the cruelty of fate,” she says, with a caustic edge to her voice. She snaps her finger. “Raneeda, come help pass me things. It’s time to do the make-up. Just relax…um…”

“Please, just call me Rachel. Or Rach. If you call me Queen I’m going to scream.”

“Alright, Rachel. When it’s just us, I will, but if we’re around those three? I don’t want to get into any trouble. I know how Aurelians deal with…” She clears her throat, a little awkwardly, and I turn red. The pain of the spanking is gone, but I’m still a little tender, and I shift on the cushion, remembering Orr’s powerful palm spanking me hard and fast.

“Just relax, okay? Try to stay still,” she says, and I close my eyes, knowing I am in expert hands.

Twenty or thirty minutes pass. “All done!”

I open my eyes, and my mouth drops.

It’s me. Undeniably. But I’m…different, somehowmoreme. All my good features are highlighted. My eyelashes seem longer and curlier, though I know they didn’t grow, and I swear I didn’t feel her gluing on anything to them. I blink in surprise, and they bat alluringly. My lips are a sultry shade of red. I’ve never worn lipstick before. Princess Bitch would spend hours in the mirror, trying on new products she would send me to the city to get, but the change was never as drastic yet so natural looking as what Nash just did to me.

“You’re ready.”

“You’re a magician,” I say in awe.

Raneeda’s brows furrow. “What is it?” I say, wondering if somehow my eyes are lying to me and I look ridiculous, like a servant who got into her better’s cabinet and tried on everything.

“What are you going to wear?” We all share a glance.

“That, I don’t know. We’ve got plenty of fresh white servant dresses, but nothing befitting you.” Nash purses her lips.

There’s a heavy thud of wooden doors and we all snap to attention. The illusion of relaxation disappears as we hear booted feet stomping in.

10

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