Page 8 of Treylon
“I’ll play it with you if you let me pick one I like as well,” she said. “I suspect you’re going to leave me in the dust on the one you chose.”
“I agree fair is fair. Which one sounded good to you?”
Rosalie selected an absolutely ridiculous game where the object appeared to be building a rickety spaceship, hanging various alien animals and treasure off the edges until the mechanism was triggered and the ship ‘exploded’, flinging pieces everywhere. The person who caused the explosion was the loser. It was absurd but she shrieked every time the game set blew apart and they both laughed and it was incredible fun. His preferred strategy game involved taking over a mythical galaxy by invading other solar systems and creating assorted types of interstellar havoc as dictated by game prompts. Treylon won of course, after reducing her to one paltry sun and a few uninhabitable planets.
By the time they’d agreed to end the war game with Treylon declared the winner and not fight it out until the bitter end, it was time for Rosalie to return to the clinic for her appointment. Treylon drove and remained with her when she met with the doctor. She had no objection to his presence although the doctor wasn’t pleased not to have privacy to confer with his patient.
He was satisfied with her recovery from the sting. After testing her reflexes and running three different scans, he said, “All right, you’re officially recovered, Ms. Lenox. Stay off the leg for the rest of today—no hiking, no swimming and I’m afraid no dancing.”
“We’re going out with friends for dinner and karaoke,” Treylon said. “Any objections?”
“Other than the fact I personally can’t stand karaoke, nope.” The doctor grinned. “She’s actually fine, as I said. This appointment is from an excess of corporate caution and a desire not to be sued.” He patted Rosalie’s knee. “Sing your heart out tonight.”
“I will.” She was thrilled at the idea actually. She loved to sing and had been looking forward to this one activity out of all the offerings the resort made available.
When they reached the bungalow she took a nap and then spent quite a bit of time primping and getting ready for the evening. It was luxurious fun to pamper herself and the products the resort provided were high end. She was used to using whatever was cheapest and on clearance at the One Credit Store back on Earth.
As she was brushing her hair in front of the mirror, something caught her eye and she set the brush down and leaned closer to the glass. Peering at the new mark on her chest near her heart, she scraped at it gently with a fingernail but made no impression on the spot. Vaguely heart-shaped, it was in shades of pale green and no bigger than her thumbnail. Adrenaline flooding her system, she wondered if it was related to the poisonous sting of the day before. People didn’t just grow new birthmarks all the sudden, did they? Deciding if it got any bigger she’d go back to the clinic and have the doctor check it, she forced herself to continue her preparations for the evening ahead. This was the kind of thing she could obsess over and have anxiety attacks over, imagining the absolute worst but she was experienced in talking herself off the cliff’s edge. Maybe it was just a weird bruise. She’d been unconscious for a while and received all kinds of medical treatment so it could have happened then. At least it wasn’t painful. Yes, she’d go see the doctor tomorrow and have him set her mind at rest.
Treylon was ready long before her and occupied himself with his handheld, conducting more business.
When she finally walked into the living room, she paused on the threshold for dramatic effect. “What do you think?”
The prince shut off his handheld with a click and sat back in the chair, assessing her from head to toe. “I think I’m the luckiest man at this resort to have you as my date. You look good enough to eat.”
Rosalie blushed at the double entendre, thinking he probably didn’t mean it the way she was hearing it but then again, he did have a twinkle in his eye and there was a growing bulge in his pants. Maybe tonight, she thought wistfully, if I can avoid getting stung by anything. No bees, wasps or other insects tonight, please. Licking her lips as she twirled for him, to show off the back of the dress, she decided she’d be blunt about what she wanted once they got home from the evening. And she’d offer whatever reassurances he needed that she understood this was a fling with an end date. It would all be over in three more days in fact. Then she’d be going home to Earth, to her drab, dreary life and this time in paradise with a real prince would seem like a dream. The fantasy would have to sustain her for the rest of her life—no one else was going to measure up to Treylon. How could they?
“That dress is you,” Treylon declared as she finished her twirl.
Rosalie had fallen in love with it the minute she saw it at the shop. Layers of soft blue fabric like an intricate flower, with a sparkly bodice and thin straps. It hit above the knees and she felt enchanted in it. She had to wear her old shoes but even the tired heels seemed special by association with the rest of what she wore tonight.
The prince had kept his groundcar and insisted on driving her to the restaurant although it was easily within walking distance. They were a reduced group tonight, with Damnian and Ysilda gone. No one mentioned the couple, or at least not in her hearing. The other girls made a fuss over her, full of concern about her injury and then they proceeded to the private room Treylon had booked for their meal.
When the waiter came to take their orders, Treylon gave his and said without pausing, “And the lady will have the Azrigone beef tartare, potatoes a la Centauri?—”
“What did I tell you earlier about being high handed?” she interrupted with a smile but a firm tone. Rosalie was aware of the others staring but she forged ahead, addressing the waiter. “The lady can order for herself and no, actually I’m going to have the seafood linguine with a side of baked potato and a mixed greens salad.”
Chapter Five
Treylon was delighted by Rosalie’s assertiveness actually. He knew she was shy by nature after their time together and he welcomed this sign of strength from her. She was quiet for the most part during dinner, although she chimed in with opinions occasionally but now he understood from all the talking they’d done during the day she felt intimidated to some extent by the other four women and their achievements. It was Treylon’s firm belief that if she’d had the opportunities in life afforded to others she would have forged a notable path. From what he gathered of her life on Earth it was remarkable she’d managed to survive and keep herself afloat. Rosalie hadn’t shared too many details but he remembered the mended dress she’d worn the first night and he could piece together other things she had shared for what he guessed was a pretty full picture of her life. No wonder she’d jumped at the chance IDA was offering with this weeklong date..
He wanted a good life for her going forward. He’d been mulling over ways and means of improving her situation, of getting her an offworld job perhaps through Ardanna’s contacts within the Sectors. But nothing he’d come up with was satisfactory. He had to admit what he actually wanted was to keep her close and provide the life she deserved himself. But not only was he planning to return to combat against the Sectors’ enemies after this interlude, his position as a prince precluded the kind of relationship he wanted to offer. Princes of Ardanna didn’t casually date anyone. They married an appropriate woman and produced heirs. He had to remind himself he was only checking a box with this IDA excursion. A marriage of state and all that came with it was far in his future.
So why did the idea make him both furious and depressed?
After a leisurely dinner and incredible desserts, including one which came to the table in flames, cooling off to reveal a baked miracle of creamy goodness, which he’d ordered for Rosalie over her protests and of which she’d eaten every bite, it was time to go to the club he’d selected for the night.
IDA had strongly indicated on the matching preferences data he was given that this was important to Rosalie so he’d added it to the slate of activities he was interested in pursuing while on R&R. How bad could one evening of caterwauling be? At least there’d be plenty of feelgoods.
The place was popular at the resort and packed when the prince’s group arrived, walking from the restaurant to work off calories from the rich dinner. Rosalie insisted her leg was fine but Treylon kept a close eye on her. The first sign of discomfort from her and he’d be whisking her back to the bungalow. The club manager led them to the table in the VIP section which he’d reserved and drinks were ordered.
“I’m going to be high handed again,” Trey warned Rosalie with a smile. “No more of the sneaky pink-and-green feelgood for you.”
“No argument from me,” she said, pleasing him with her agreement. She ordered a fruit drink with a tiny amount of feelgood and seemed satisfied.
* * *
Trying to get her courage up for the moment it would be her chance to sing in front of all these people, Rosalie studied the crowd while Treylon and his friends talked. She told herself no one was going to listen to her anyway, judging by how crowded the dance floor was and the intensity of the club goers drinking and flirting and making out. I might as well enjoy this—it’s my one chance to pretend to be a real singer.
