Page 21 of Claimed By the Alien Prince
They chatter again, some fuming over her proclamation while others murmur their agreement under their breath. The old men of the court shake their heads in disbelief, anger flashing across their lined faces.
I want to shout that this isn’t just about politics or trade; it’s about something deeper—an instinct that pulses within me like a heartbeat. Carys ignites something in me I thought was long buried beneath layers of duty and expectation.
But no one can know yet—not yet.
I steel myself against their glances as they assess my reaction. Their gazes weigh heavy upon my shoulders like boulders ready to crush me under their judgment. I’m still expected to act as if nothing has changed when everything has shifted irreparably.
I look up at my mother—my Queen—and find a flicker of understanding reflected back at me in her eyes. Perhaps she senses what I’ve felt since our first touch—change is on the horizon.
CHAPTER 17
CARYS
Isit cross-legged on the mossy floor, fingers brushing over the remnants of yesterday's bland mush, my stomach churning with discontent. I’ve lost count of how many meals have passed since they locked me in this room, and each one leaves me feeling emptier than the last. I glance at the door, half-expecting it to remain silent, but then it swings open.
Zevran stands there, a silhouette framed by the soft glow of bioluminescent sconces. My heart skips—a traitorous little thing—and I can’t help but wonder what he’ll bring this time. A sneer? More harsh words? Instead, he carries a tray laden with vibrant colors and enticing scents.
He sets it down carefully on the table before me. Roasted root vegetables glisten with spices, grains fluffy and warm beside them. And there’s meat—smoky and sweet—its aroma wrapping around me like a warm blanket.
I blink at the feast laid out before me. “This… looks edible,” I say cautiously, trying to mask my surprise.
Zevran leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, eyes sharp and unyielding. He doesn’t answer at first; he simply watches as I pick up a piece of roasted vegetable.
“Go on,” he urges after a moment, a hint of something softer flickering in his gaze. “Eat.”
Tentatively, I take my first bite. The flavors explode—rich and earthy, unlike anything I've had since arriving here. I chew slowly, savoring each mouthful while trying not to let my surprise show too much.
Zevran's expression shifts subtly as he observes me; tension eases from his shoulders when I don’t spit it out or gag in horror like some human stereotype he likely expects.
“Good?” He raises an eyebrow, just a hint of satisfaction lurking behind his stoic demeanor.
“Delicious.” I swallow another bite, warmth spreading through me as hunger takes charge. “What is this?”
“A mix of roots native to Verus,” he replies quietly. “We’ve learned to use what we have.”
I meet his gaze as I chew; there's no malice in those jade depths today—only curiosity and perhaps something deeper that makes my pulse quicken again.
“What about your drone?” His voice cuts through my thoughts abruptly.
“Todd?” I can’t help but smile despite myself. “He’s probably out exploring somewhere, enjoying the freedom I'm not allowed.”
“Do you think it’s safe?” He tilts his head slightly, his expression growing more serious.
“Todd’s harmless,” I assure him, feeling an unexpected urge to defend my little companion. “He may be jittery and useless sometimes,” I add with a laugh that surprises even me, “but he's not dangerous.”
A small smile teases at Zevran's lips—just for an instant before fading back into neutrality.
“And your research?” His voice remains low and steady as if we’re discussing mundane matters rather than my potential escape plan or the fate of our worlds intertwined.
My heart picks up speed again; excitement swells within me at the chance to talk about what drives me—the very essence of who I am outside these walls. “The fungus I found—the one that glows during storm surges? It could revolutionize how we harness energy from storms! It pulses with such life during those surges… it feels almost alive in its own way.”
His eyes narrow slightly in interest; for once, he seems genuinely engaged rather than simply humoring me.
“It sounds remarkable,” he says after a pause that stretches between us like an unspoken bond forming in the air. “What else have you discovered?”
My voice gains momentum as I speak about luminescent flora native to Verus—their adaptability under harsh conditions—and how some species communicate through color shifts depending on environmental changes.
Zevran listens intently now, nodding occasionally as if piecing together more than just information but understanding who I am beneath the layers of this bizarre predicament we find ourselves in.
