Page 300 of Scorching the Alien Empire
“Don’t you love it?” Princesa grins. “It’s atartan scarf.” She runs a finger along the erratic lines. “See? It even has the little squiggly bits.”
Sandra stares. “You tried to fabricate...tartan?”
“I mean, I know you’re a bit disappointed I couldn’t fabricate the Loch Ness monster.” Princesa offers with a sheepish shrug. “But this is kind of the next best thing, right?”
An Earth creature worthy of battle?
“Tartan?” Sandra repeats, blinking.
“Yep.” Princesa nods confidently.
Sandra flutters the garish fabric—an eyesore so bright it could attract orbital fire. “Lexie... this isn’t tartan. It’s wrapping paper.”
“Okay,rude.” Princesa scoffs. “But it matches those gnome clothes you like to wear,” she says, gesturing to Sandra’s red-and-yellow leather-and-fur outfit.
“Balloon patterns? Spirals? These weird shapes?” Sandra presses, still stunned. “Tartan is supposed to havestraightlines.”
“That. Is. So. Hurtful, Sandra,” Princesa sniffs, eyes shimmering with exaggerated grief. “Those are Klendathian runes forBesties.Eternity. And...” she lowers her voice to a whisper, glancing away, “Ginger.”
Runes of my people? Impressive.
I narrow my eyes, examining the symbols. Suppressing a grin.Beasts.Oblivion.Fireball. Repeated dozens of times across the garish strip of fur.
“Ginger?” Sandra snorts. “You just couldn’t help yourself.” She bursts into laughter. “You’re such a cow, Lexie.”
Without warning, Princesa throws her arms around her, pulling Sandra into a breathless hug.
“Uff!” Sandra lets out a startled noise.
“I’m sorry I called you Double Agent Red Squirrel,” Princesa mumbles into her tunic. “You were trying to help me all along, and I was too blind to see it.”
She pulls back, her eyes gleaming pools of mercury. “Thanks for helping me realize what really matters.” Her voice quivers with raw emotion, the same grief and gratitude blazing through our bond.
“Lexie...” Sandra breathes, holding the garish scarf to her chest like a sacred weapon. “I’m just glad we’re all safe. That the fighting’s over.” She smiles sweetly between us.
“I hope so too...” Princesa’s words trail off in a whisper, her attention turning to Krogoth and Rocks. They stand conversing among themselves. Rocks side-eyes us frequently, sending unease rippling through Princesa’s side of our bond.
I press a hand to the arch of Princesa’s back.
“Come,” I say softly.
“But me and Todd are too stuffed for another slice of humble pie,” she mutters, even as she moves.
Krogoth and I exchange a solemn nod of respect. Rocks’ hand darts instinctively to her impressive Elerium necklace, the other over the gentle rise of her belly.
“Hail, High Chieftain and Chieftainess,” I say, inclining my head. “Your union honors you both. Such strength is only born from a bond forged in the fiercest fire.”
“Thank you, Dracoth,” Rocks’ voice is warm, her smile radiant. “But it was all Krogoth,” her hazel eyes flicker to him with affection, “I was just trying not to throw up.”
“You’re too modest, Pebbles,” Krogoth says with open pride. “It was your love that brought me back from the brink.” He places a gentle hand on her shoulder. She meets it with her own.
Princesa’s brow arches. Her lips draw into a tight line. I shoot her a silent glare. She breathes out slowly, then speaks. “I agree with Big Chief Krogs.”
My eye twitches.
“You arefartoo modest, High Chieftainess Rocks,” Princesa continues, her tone syrupy with deference. “When the bond was slamming me into the ground like an abandoned banana on the highway,youstood there completely unfazed. Statuesque. Regal. I mean, considering how muchworseKrogs’ injuries were, that’s honestly awe-inspiring.”
Rocks’ eyes narrow—barely—but I catch it.
