Page 32 of The Space Traveller's Lover
“Permission to leave, My Commander,” Rothwen calmly asks.
Kuzhma-Or is used to his master navigator’s dark moods and shifting obsessions, and there’s no point in opposing him any longer for something that will surely pass, he promptly concludes. So, with a brief nod, he lets Rothwen go. The headstrong master navigator solemnly bows to his supreme commander before turning around and walking into the aisle.
“Rothwen is always pushing his boundaries,” Athguer notes.
As Rothwen walks away, he feels their sceptical stare and listens to their doubtful thoughts, but the seemingly implausible is precisely what his restless spirit craves. Before going out of view, he turns around and defiantly warns them, “I will be bringing Shaillah to our fest tonight. She is with me now. You should treat her fairly.”
CHAPTER 14
THE CHANT OF HONOUR
You disarmed me with your deadly weapon.
Will you take me in your army?
Being underwater is like being embraced by my ancient home, Shaillah thinks as she relishes her exhilarating freedom, swimming up and down the depths of her smartroom’s crystalline pool. She moves through the fragranced waters as clustered bubbles shape her path; she speeds up and then slows down, playing with the frothy trails her wild strokes leave behind. The purifying liquid cleans and moisturises her skin as the smouldering purple spotlights, flickering like candles from the bottom, uplift her spirit.
She doesn’t want to get out of the pool, but she has to. Rothwen may be coming for her soon. As she climbs the exit steps, a silvery footstool moves towards her and stops at the pool’s edge. She takes the fluffy white gown folded neatly on the top, and as she wraps it around her body, the radiating warmth gently dries her body and long hair.
Walking towards her balcony, Shaillah glances at the oversized white corner bed, and she can’t resist diving onto the lustrous bedding, plunging under the pile of feathery cushions. She rolls in between the sheets and pillows, chuckling girlishly, until she finally lays back, her eyes barely showing under the ruffled bundled silk linen. She stares at the fuzzy neon-like light strips covering the ceiling, dimming as she closes her eyes or brightening if she opens them. She suddenly feels hungry.
As she hears the clatter of plates and cutlery, her attention turns to the far end of the room. She rushes towards the opposite glass console table. But by the time she reaches it, her favourite dishes are all stylishly presented, as if they have been served from behind the wall by a master chef.Be careful what you think, Shaillah, she jokes to herself while dipping her fingers through the chocolate desserts first and licking her fingertips as the creamy meringue melts inside her mouth. She eats and drinks as she hears the rumble of the distinctive Rom-Ghenshars’ laughter resounding nearby.I must get ready for Rothwen.She thinks to herself as she enters the side aisle, her heart throbbing with excitement.
Shaillah strolls by the high transparent doors, admiring the beautiful garments changing in colour and style as she advances. Each one she sees is to her liking. Stopping at the walk-in wardrobe’s entrance, she contemplates the neat long shelves full of clothes, accessories, and fanciful shoes. She picks the first silk undergarments she sees, and as she puts them on, she spots the gold-embroidered tunic lying on the floor by the side of her belt. She remembers the admiring look on Rothwen’s face when she first tried it on. “It has to be this one.” She slides the silky, glittering piece over her body and straps her belt around her waist.
She lounges on one of the cream and gold canape sofas, thinking about the tall, elegant boots she liked in the walk-in wardrobe. “I think I have time for a small treat,” she reckons. One of the wandering footstools springs into action and soon approaches with the glossy high-heeled boots she was thinking about.I could get used to this. She giggles.
In front of one of the dressing table’s oval mirrors, she stares at the colouring sticks, creams, and powders lined up in neatly organised rows. It’s hard to choose which ones to use. But she has to finish her make-up quickly. Rothwen is at her door, calling her. As she puts on her pink diamond pendant, the sparkling gem competes with the glow of her pupils, shining under the rosy eyeshadow and the overextended black eyeliner. She rushes to comb her hair, and as she grabs the pearl-covered hairbrush, she notices a delicately braided ruby wreath under the glass top. She regally places it over her forehead while thinking that the beautiful diadem seems to have been made especially for her. Her plump lips gleam under the creamy red tint as she smiles at the mirror.
She runs towards the entrance. And as the door slides open, she bluntly stops right in front of a stunned Rothwen who is staring at her, spellbound. Shaillah’s elegant presence overcomes his senses. For as long as he remembers, he has never felt so vulnerable. In his mind, the images of his glorious victories pale into insignificance under the hypnotising splendour of her figure. This battleground is new for him, one he has barely prepared for. He must conquer this new rival, subjugate it to his will. But for now, he is prepared to let her dominate him.
Her hair is floating softly over her shoulders, blown by the incoming breeze, enveloping him in her enticing aroma. He is not used to feeling so helpless, so he stubbornly fights against the overriding force, making him feel weak at the knees. He bites his tongue and swallows hard. He can’t get enough of her curvy figure, piercing through her elegant tunic. He clutches his hands until they swell and redden with his sweltering blood, but he eventually relents. He briskly pulls her against his chest, their eyes locking into an intense devouring stare.
He basks in the glow of her enthralling pupils. “You disarmed me with your deadly weapon. Will you take me in your army?”
“I’m not a soldier,” she says while tenderly caressing his face.
“But you will be,” he pledges in his deep husky voice. “You will be.”
She holds her breath while he draws her into a tight embrace, the air around them sparkling with the runaway energy of their churning desire. He keeps fighting against himself, overcoming the wave of irrepressible lust taking hold of him. As he lets go of his embrace, he feels a powerful tension working against him, as if he were trying to rip apart the poles of a powerful magnet. Shaillah is still leaning on one of his open arms, her body trembling in an expectant pose.
Rothwen glides his hand over her cheek and then down to her chest and waist, savouring every touch. “Oh, you are beautiful … dangerously beautiful.” He exhales while ecstatically looking at her. “My obsession … my insatiable obsession.”
But his admiring gaze suddenly turns into a sombre glare as he adds grudgingly, “I must take you now. They are waiting for us.”
He makes her stand in front of him as he speaks to her. “Listen to me carefully, Shaillah. Forget about your pure earthly feelings when you meet our supreme commander and our eminent chief scientist. They will belooking for something to disqualify you. But you show them. Show them your fearless, invincible Rom-Ghenshar spirit!”
A self-assured smile springs on her face as she keeps staring at him, her eyes beaming with a determined, unyielding glow as if she was already preparing for the announced battle. “I can do this,” she declares in a firm tone.
Rothwen presses his face against hers while his steely gaze pierces deep inside her pupils, searching for her inner fire. In the burning furnace of her soul, Rothwen finds the fighter inside her breaking free, embracing him. “I know you can.” He takes her by her hand, leading her towards the central hexagonal hall and into one of the golden archways.
“How’re you doing?” Rothwen checks on her as the space-tunnel takes them into the deepest underground chambers.
She nods confidently, even though she does not know what to expect.
“Let us enter our very own UniverseScope’s arena,” he announces as they step into a long wide corridor, the blue light strips at each side intensely flashing at their every step.
Rothwen’s thudding footsteps and the click of her high heels echo across the haunting space.
