Star Kissed (15 page)

“Can you show me some basics of how to behave around here, so Hichele stops hitting me with that damned crop?” she asked, needing to change the subject.

“It would be my pleasure to show you the ways of the Naki.”

“I don’t want to embarrass you.”

“You will find we humans have many advantages here,” Helen said, eyes sparkling. “I negotiate all my husband’s treaties now, the result of what I’d call emotional maturity in a society that prefers to deny that emotions exist.”

Mandy laughed. “So you can pull their strings easily!”

“The disadvantage is controlling your temper and emotions in public. It requires more in the way of self-control.”

“That I’ll need to learn.”

“We’ve got some work to do on you.” Helen looked her over. “I haven’t been so happy in a long time. You’re the first human from our time I’ve spoken to.”

“Make me Naki, my queen,” Mandy said, truly enjoying her time with the spirited woman. “How long did it take you to leave your Bronx accent?”

“It still comes out when I’m angry. My husband has learned it’s a warning signal.”

Mandy couldn’t see the woman before her with some cold Naki. At least, Helen didn’t seem like she could be happy, if she didn’t have a partner.

“Come with me.” Helen led her through a panel into a closet filled with different color robes and sashes. Mandy touched a periwinkle sash hanging on one side, fascinated by the texture. She resisted the urge to ask about what the different sashes stood for.

She wasn’t staying here. She didn’t need to know.

“Nakis are conservative in their appearances,” Helen continued. “Hair is always up and neat, arms covered down to the wrists. The women, however, wear a form of makeup. Come, sit here.”

Mandy obeyed and sat on a block in the middle of the closet. She accepted a white box measuring an inch square. Helen attacked her hair with a brush, working through the curls before she wrapped it into a tight bun. Mandy worked the box open, recognizing earthy colored makeup.

“The Naki women try to make themselves look more human,” Helen explained. “It’s an honor to be mistaken for a human among their kind, because their kings have always looked human for reasons you and I already know.”

“Cuz they are human,” said Mandy. She manipulated the box until she reached the colors she’d seen initially. There were nine compartments in the tiny makeup case. Helen handed her a mirror and sat across from her on another block.

Mandy looked at herself, surprised to see the queen was right: she was glowing. She needed no blush on her pink cheeks, and her lips were still rough and swollen from Akkadi’s passion, however fleeting it was.

She studied herself. She was still beautiful. How on earth did Akkadi turn her down?

She applied the makeup lightly, feeling some comfort in the familiar routine.

“Last thing,” Helen said and rose. She opened one of the blocks to reveal more clothing. “The robe of a royal slave. There are many variations, and the styles are reflective of local cultures. However, if you intend to seduce a Naki-prince into doing something for you, you’ll wear this one.”

“My god, I sound like a complete jerk,” Mandy exclaimed, looking for any sign Akkadi’s mother was offended.

The small woman was smiling again, her eyes twinkling in a way that made Mandy think Akkadi wasn’t the only one at risk of being manipulated. She accepted the clothing Helen dug out for her and waited until she was alone in the closet to change.

Mandy pulled on the new clothing and looked down at herself, impressed. She wore a black uniform that fit as snugly as a cat suit – and she looked damned good. She’d worn something like this in a photo shoot once for a Halloween flyer. The uniform was comfortable at least.

She struggled with the closure. The suit was open from her neck to her lower belly. A seam ran along one side, as if there was supposed to be a zipper. She pulled the two edges together the noticed they stayed where her fingers were. She ran her hand down the front, satisfied that her body heat zipped it for her.

“You sure you want me to wear this?” she called in a rare moment of self-consciousness. She could almost see everyone but Akkadi looking at her.

“Yes. That’s an order,” was the amused response. “You’re a model. Pretend like everywhere you go is a catwalk. If Akkadi won’t do what you want, I can guarantee some other princeling on this station will.”

Akkadi is the only one who has something I want.
Mandy kept this to herself, feeling again as if she wasn’t certain how much to trust the mother of the man she was trying – and failing – to find a way to manipulate.

“Come out. Let’s teach you to bow.”

Mandy obeyed. Helen circled her, critically taking her in.

“Your hair is beautiful down, but sometimes, it’s best to save that for the boudoir,” she said. “Very good. Keep the makeup with you. I’ll send your sizes to the tailors so they make you a few more sets of clothing.”

“I look like a Space Barbie,” Mandy observed.

Helen laughed.

“I won’t be here long enough to need more clothing, so don’t bother,” Mandy added stubbornly.

“This is what many of the slaves use to carry small things with them.” Helen ignored her and held out a black sash. “Black is for the serving class. I am sorry. It’s not the way we were brought up as Americans.”

“I’ll do what I can to make this easier for us all,” Mandy said. She looped the sash across her chest and fumbled with it, looking for pockets.

“You take something and tuck it into a fold like this. The sash acts much like the boxes for storage.” The queen placed the makeup box in the sash and twisted it. The box disappeared. “When you want to retrieve it, simply twist and shake.”

“Incredible,” Mandy said. “I could carry all kinds of stuff. This would be the best purse ever.”

The queen laughed, an open, infectious sound that made Mandy smile.

“Now, onto some basic protocol: addresses and curtseys.” She tilted her head to the side suddenly.

Mandy thought she heard the whisper of the guard.

“Stand to the side,” Helen instructed. “One of my nephews comes to visit me. Their mother died young, so I treat them all like my sons. I’ve got to see how well I’ve done with you.”

Mandy snorted and stood against one of the solid walls, once again uncertain why Helen wanted to help her when Mandy made it clear she intended to use Akkadi to leave. Helen seated herself, a mask of serenity crossing her features.

It wasn’t Akkadi who entered but a man with similar enough features that Mandy looked twice. Same deep blue eyes and chiseled features, though this man had black hair. His glance went from his mother to Mandy and stuck as his gaze swept over her.

“Hello, son,” Helen said.

He looked away from Mandy and bowed to the Naki queen before seating himself.

“Hello, mother,” he greeted her. His gaze drifted to Mandy again, and she tried not to smile.

“I see you’re taken by our newest addition,” Helen said casually. “Mandy is the pureblood human that came through the star gate when Akkadi opened it.”

Mandy frowned. Akkadi claimed the wormhole was accidental. He’d said nothing about
opening the star gate that brought her here, only that he had the power to but wouldn’t.

“Pureblood,” the Naki-prince rose and crossed to Mandy. “The slaves spoke of her.”

“She’s Akkadi’s consort for now, until he pawns her off to one of you,” Helen said with casualness. “Maybe you will be the Naki-prince fortunate enough to claim her, Vekko.”

“He took a consort now?” the man turned. “Wasn’t the announcement –”

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

Mandy looked between them, trying to determine the reason behind Vekko’s puzzlement. She had to admit: if Akkadi didn’t want her, she wouldn’t mind ending up with Vekko. He had the same body and similar enough features. From what the slaves said, he wasn’t going to be as unwilling to sleep with her, either.

He studied her.

“She is,” Vekko said. “Wren said you had asked initially about becoming my consort?”

After dealing with Hichele, Mandy wasn’t certain how exactly how to address him. At her hesitation, Helen motioned for her to speak.

“Initially,” Mandy replied. “They said you just lost yours and were kind to your consorts.”

“All my sons better be,” Helen said in a firm tone. “I raised them with an iron fist.”

“You did, mother,” Vekko agreed. “A consort is not the proper position for a purebred. You should be in the clothing of a royal not a slave.” His eyes went down Mandy’s body, settling on her breasts. “I’ll speak to him at once. I know he prefers Nakis anyway.”

Mandy listened, impressed Vekko thought enough of her being human to think she deserved better than to be a professional whore. His insistence that Akkadi only liked Nakis, however, brought her mood down. What did someone like Hichele have that
she
didn’t have? What was wrong with Akkadi?

Like sleeping my way out of here makes me a better person.
She almost sighed.

Vekko spoke to his adopted mother for a couple more minutes before leaving. He was replaced by another cousin then another. Akkadi’s cousins were stunners like him. Each conversation was strangely similar, the cold, proud men writing off Akkadi’s interest in her and vowing to talk to him about her.

Mandy watched Helen throughout the exchanges, perplexed as to what the Naki queen was trying to do. Helen was setting up someone. Mandy had no idea who.

All three had come and gone with a similar declaration that they’d confront Akkadi when their duties permitted. Everyone but Akkadi wanted her. She fumed silently. There was clearly a problem with Akkadi, not her.

No sooner had the third left than the door opened again. Mandy waited expectantly to see yet another cousin. Instead, Hichele returned.

Mandy executed a perfect bow, which made the dark-haired woman stop and stare. Her eyes swept over Mandy’s frame. While she’d felt confident around the men, Mandy couldn’t help feeling triumphant around the Naki who was clearly not happy to see her.

“Hichele, I am pleased to see you,” Helen said. “Today, I will show you where Naki princes spend much of their time: on the battle deck.”

Hichele’s features changed again.

“Mandy, come with us,” Helen directed, starting towards the door.

“Yes, my queen,” Mandy said with a bow. She waited until Hichele passed to release her smile. As she had the day before, she trailed the two nobles, pausing every once in awhile to try out her catwalk strut and make sure she didn’t trip. If she was to impress Akkadi, she couldn’t be slipping or falling.

Satisfied, she focused on the ground. Now that she knew the secret to navigating the ship, she tried to interpret where they went. Three parallel lines marked the hallway as a royal one. A line-dash-line indicated an elevator. Eyes on the ground, she ran into Hichele, who waited in front of the elevator.

Hichele unleashed a series of slaps with the switch before Mandy was able to apologize.

“Hichele!” Helen snapped.

“She must learn some manners!” the Naki snarled.

“My bad.” Mandy knocked the whip away and took a step back.

Hichele’s face was red while Helen appeared startled. Mandy rolled her eyes when the Naki woman turned her back on her.

They entered a larger lift and went up longer than before, emerging into the first hallway she’d seen that actually had a dead end. She looked at the floor again.

She didn’t know these marks. She made a mental note to ask Belo the next time she saw him.

Mandy trailed them, hands at her side as the queen had instructed. She had no pockets to put them in and consciously had to remind herself to leave her hands on her thighs. It was an awkward position; she never noticed how much more freely her arms normally moved when not trapped at her sides.

Preoccupied with keeping her arms still, she stepped into an auditorium-sized room full of activity. Some of the windows looking out into space were covered by transparent screens depicting scenes with strange writing and pictures. The battle deck hummed with activity and movement. Many Nakis in grey sat at hologram stations, studying pictures she didn’t understand, while others roamed the floors. In the center, she spotted Akkadi, his chiseled features and honed body causing her to grow warm from the inside out.

She looked away, confused by her body’s reaction, especially after his rejection. She should be turned off by him. In either case, she was going to focus on prancing rather than him. Mandy pushed her chest outward and tucked in her pelvis then pretended to walk a tightrope, placing one foot in front of the other.

Helen was telling Hichele who and what everything around them was. Mandy wasn’t able to focus, the sensation of walking through a surreal dream rendering her almost light-headed. She clenched her fists and dug her nails into her palms, trying to keep her focus on her walk. The people they passed paused to look her over, some in surprise and others in puzzlement.

Diet coke.
The jingle of the beverage cart moving through the narrow aisles of the plane. She was sweating, stuck between the worlds again. She didn’t understand the spells or why they chose the worst times to hit.

“Mandy.”

She realized her eyes were squeezed closed and opened them. Helen gazed at her in concern. She had no idea who called her name; the world was barely registering as real. Mandy offered a small smile. Helen glance at Hichele then continued walking. Mandy trailed them and forced her attention on her feet, uncertain why she had the episodes where the world around her seemed unreal.

She glanced up and caught Vekko gazing at her from across the room. She resisted the urge to wave like she would if she was home and pushed her breasts out again.

He started towards the group, and she almost smiled. Akkadi’s eldest cousin, Subakki, was also staring at her. She resisted the urge to glance at Akkadi and see if he reacted at all, instead trying to calm her racing heart with deep breaths. Vekko and Subakki greeted their adopted mother and Hichele, who seemed to think their interest was in her. She was glowing and preening once more.