Page 41 of Survivor
“I will speak to Pearl and arrange for something extra special for the opening,” Jala suggested. While not quite as cute as the humans, an excited Vaktaire female was lovely as well.
“Sounds great! I can’t wait!” Lucy practically vibrated with excitement, her eyes shining like the twin moons of Zarpazia.
And despite everything that came with being a King—the responsibilities, the politics, the weight of an entire planet on my shoulders—I knew that keeping my mate happy was the most important job of all. The one duty I would never neglect.
Epilogue
Lucy
Zarpazia was such a beautiful place. A crimson sun sat high in a pale pink sky dotted here and there by pale green clouds. The foliage varied in colors from light yellow to deep purple and dotted the landscape with hits of color. In the distance, majestic mountains gave the horizon a deep blue glow. Even the city was lovely, the sleek metallic buildings glinting in the sun. The hateful pallor that the queen cast over the landscape scrubbed away with such gusto that not even the hint of a stain remained. More than I ever had on Earth, I felt at home here.
Vraxxan and I sat on the balcony outside the throne room. I’d redone the decor, replacing the hard, sharp edges and coldness with soft fabrics and warm colors. Tapestries showing scenes from Zarpazia’s history decorated the walls, illuminating the planet’s history—the history Vysar told in his stories. A history of prosperity, happiness, and peace. It was a throne room that reflected the caring rule of the new king. I wanted nothing left alluding to the darkness that the queen and others had cursed the planet with now that the sun shone bright again.
“What is this dish again?” Vraxxan asked, lifting an enormous bite of lasagna to his mouth. The chef for the newSpace Pearl restaurant arrived last week, and Vraxxan and I were spoiled taste-testing the dishes.
“Lasagna,” I told him, giggling at his grunt of pleasure as he chewed.
“This restaurant idea of yours was excellent,” Vraxxan complimented me as he reached for a slice of the alien version of garlic bread. “All the fare has been delicious.”
“I’m glad you like it.” For myself, I reached for one of the fuzzy kipawa fruits resting in a wooden bowl in the center of the table. It was good to be queen, especially where food was concerned. Vraxxan sent a supply shuttle to Eden every couple of weeks. Vysar had set up a trade deal with the Peecha that benefited both species and kept me in a steady supply of fruit.
Of course, the downside to being queen was the taxing on Vraxxan’s and my time. Gone were the leisurely days in the jungle, where we could lose ourselves among the trees. Now, we had to be more proactive about snatching moments together. And one of our favorite moments was daily lunch on the balcony.
I glanced appreciatively at my king... my husband. Vraxxan secured both my roles as wife and queen with a ceremony and celebration a few months ago. While there were still some Zarpazians who gave me the stink eye occasionally, most were lovely people, and I’d made several close friends.
Speaking of friends....
The slow groan of the throne room door opening heralded Vysar and Diarvet’s arrival. They usually came by around lunchtime, and both were fans of alien-human cuisine.
Like Vraxxan, neither male had a hint of black to their scales anymore. Vysar reminded me of the Monet lilies painting, his scales a swirl of blue, white, and gold. Diarvet’s coloring was a little darker, more azure, and cerulean, with spots of fuchsia and gold woven through.
Honestly, it was hard to find a Zarpazian with black scales. Everywhere you looked, there were happy people sporting beautiful, vibrant colors.
“What’s on the menu for today?” Vysar asked, snatching a spoon from the tabletop and helping himself.
“Laskajanja,” Vraxxan told him. I giggled at his butchering of the word, but didn’t correct him. It was just too cute.
Like me, Diarvet was a fan of kipawa and snagged a piece, settling into a chair at the end of the table. I caught his eye, and he grinned at me, but shadows hovered behind his gaze. Physically, he healed completely from the queen’s torture. But mentally, he still suffered. Castle staff gossiped about hearing screams coming from his chambers at night. And there were times when he seemed to fade away, his mind lost in moments no one should have to relive.
Vraxxan worried about him and had tried to get Diarvet to engage the healers, but his cousin refused. While my cancer was nothing like he’d endured, it was close enough that I understood his pain. It was something Diarvet would have to work through himself, and all we could do was be there to support him, whatever he needed.
I switched my gaze to Vysar. He was wolfing down spoonful after spoonful of lasagna, soft moans of pleasure rumbling from his throat.
“I’m surprised this is the first time you’ve tasted lasagna,” I said, and winked. “We all know how much time you’ve been spending at the restaurant.” I poked at the side of Vysar’s leg with my toe. “How is Marcia, by the way?”
The scales on his cheeks turned a deep shade of blue. “Fine, I would expect,” he said, pretending not to have a clue. I knew better. He’d been spending a lot of time in the company of the woman sent to oversee our Space Pearl’s location, andthe two seemed happy together. Vysar might be older, but for a Zarpazian, he still remained in his prime. I wanted nothing more for him than to find a female that would love and appreciate him. Heaven knew it deserved it after his time with the queen.
Vraxxan caught my eye, a smile tugging at his lips. While he kept quiet, I knew he wanted his father to find happiness just as much as I did. Instead, he schooled his face into the expression I referred to as hisking face.
“How is the construction going?”
Vraxxan referred to the shipbuilding that had been going on for several months now. He took the battle cruiser his mother had used to travel to Eden and was retrofitting it to join theBardagaandHistoriain the Alliance rescue. The cabins on the battle cruiser were sparse and uncomfortable, something my mate wanted remedied so that any human rescued would immediately know comfort and care.
“Very well,” Diarvet said, reaching for another piece of kipawa fruit. “We should be able to launch in another cycle.”
“Make sure the food generators have something tasty,” I reminded him. It was the one thing I insisted on, not wanting another human to have to eat the facsimile of packing peanuts and swamp water if I could help it.
“We will need to start selecting the crew soon,” Vraxxan mused, tapping his fingertips together.
