Chapter Two

JOLAK STARED at King Bellmore. The information his father just shared had the potential to alter the fate of their entire planet. It could bring prosperity and progress, but Jolak couldn’t shake the feeling that Fate was bearing down on him.

His father stared at him. “You have a responsibility to your people. Do you understand?”

“Of course, Father,”

Jolak replied.

As a prince of the crown, it was his duty to ensure the well-being and prosperity of their people. He certainly would never rule—he was too far down the line. And now it was time for him to pay the price of having royal blood.

His father placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I have faith in you, my son. You will help lead our planet to greatness.”

Pride and determination swelled in him at his father’s words. He would do everything in his power to fulfill his duty and make his people proud. But deep down, he had to wonder if he was ready for the responsibility and sacrifices that came with such a role.

He dismissed those thoughts and faced his father, reminding himself that interest did not ensure an impending arrangement. Did he truly desire that?

He had seen King Duran, the Tah’Narian king.

Like all Tah’Narians, he was a stunning sight to behold. His tall stature, muscular physique, and unique features—such as his catlike ears and long tail—were mesmerizing. Not to mention his luxurious mane of long white hair that cascaded down his back like a waterfall of silk.

Jolak had heard things about that hair, things he was unsure were true.

But Jolak pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the bigger picture. He reminded himself that this was about more than mere physical appearances or personal feelings—it was about forming a strategic alliance that could stand the test of time and… warfare.

If his planet could unite with Tah’Nar, they would no longer have to worry about attacks from the Emperor of the Western Hemisphere. There were rumors about Tah’Narians being ruthless and coldhearted, even before the tragedy with the Onfre had happened.

But that didn’t worry Jolak as much as it should because it was also rumored they treated their mates with exceptional care. He’d always been curious about their culture and customs, but he’d never had the opportunity to learn more. Now he did.

“What did he say, exactly?”

“We are to continue negotiating the alliance for now. When that has officially been signed, King Duran will meet with you.”

“So he isn’t coming here now?”

“Regrettably, he cannot depart from the planet due to an ongoing situation,”

King Bellmore said.

“I see.”

“Besides, we believe it would be best to have the official alliance in place before any further meetings take place.”

Jolak nodded, grasping the unspoken intent of his father. The primary objective was an alliance—a mating would be a secondary advantage.

“Understood, Father.”

His father gave him a stern look. “Remember, Jolak, that this alliance is crucial for us as a people. Do not let personal feelings or desires cloud your judgment.”

Jolak couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed at his father’s words. But he knew better than to argue with his father on such an important issue. He carefully kept his face blank. He was more than a piece on a board to be moved about, but he also realized expressing any unfavorable sentiment would be futile and unwise.

“I understand, Father,”

he said dutifully.

“Continue dealing with the Tah’Narian delegation. You have done such a wonderful job on that. Try to get the alliance signed within the next two cycles. That is all.”

Jolak bowed, then left his father’s private quarters. He found himself walking through the gardens of the palace, his mind abuzz with strategies and speeches. The Bohn trees were in full bloom, their delicate lavender petals floating gently down onto the cobblestone paths.

The beauty of the scene was calming, and for a moment, Jolak allowed himself to just breathe. Nature had always soothed him. It was one of the reasons they had such vast gardens at the palace.

As Jolak walked, his thoughts invariably wandered back to King Duran. The Tah’Narian king had a reputation that extended far beyond his striking appearance.

He was known as a formidable strategist and a fair ruler, qualities that Jolak admired and feared in equal measure. Of course, he’d had to be with the results of the seeding of their atmosphere.

Jolak’s hand crept down to his belly. The thought of his DNA being altered to carry a child was both terrifying and intriguing. Would he be able to handle the physical changes that came with it?

The idea of such a deep and permanent connection with another being, particularly one from such a powerful and enigmatic species as the Tah’Narians, stirred a complex mix of emotions within him.

His role in this alliance could be pivotal, not just politically but also biologically. It was a heavy burden, yet it held a certain allure he couldn’t deny. Or would he regret this decision in the end?

But wasn’t that a question often asked in life? Despite his fears, there was a part of him that couldn’t help but wonder about the experience of giving birth. But it was a choice he would be given the opportunity to make.

If he was brave enough to go through with his father’s wishes, that was. He didn’t know what the repercussions would be if he refused a mating, and he had no interest in finding out.

The prospect of forming an alliance with such a figure was daunting, yet the potential it held for his planet was undeniable. And for him.

As he continued his stroll, Jolak mentally prepared himself for his next meeting with the Tah’Narian delegation. He needed to be sharp and clearheaded if he was to secure the alliance quickly, as his father wished.

The delegation was tricky, skilled in diplomacy, and adept at reading emotions and intentions. They would seize upon any hesitancy or weakness.

He rounded a bend in the path and found himself at the edge of the Vermay Lake. Its surface mirrored the sky above, disrupted only by the occasional ripple from a jumping fish or falling petal. He paused, watching as the water returned to a state of calm—a stark contrast to the turmoil inside him.

“Focus on what you can control,”

Jolak whispered to himself. “Use their interest to our advantage.”

With a renewed sense of purpose, Jolak headed back towards the palace. He knew that negotiating with the Tah’Narians would require more than just diplomatic expertise—it would require understanding their culture and perspectives deeply.

Perhaps more personal research on King Duran would be beneficial—not just his policies and leadership style but also his personal history and motivations.

By understanding Duran better, Jolak hoped to find common ground or perhaps leverage that could be used in negotiations. As he walked past the ancient stone sculptures that lined the palace entrance, Jolak was both anxious and eager.

This alliance was about survival, yes, but for him, it might also be about transformation in ways he could scarcely imagine.

Stepping into the cool dimness of the palace halls, Jolak squared his shoulders and made his way towards the council chamber where the delegation awaited.

Each step took him closer not just to a critical political meeting but potentially to a completely altered life path—one woven together with threads of duty, fear, intrigue, and perhaps even wonder.

AS TIME sped by, and the negotiations intensified, the ease Jolak felt with the Tah’Narian delegates grew stronger. He spent long hours in discussions, trying to find common ground while respectfully navigating their differences. The cultural divide was vast, but mutual respect bridged gaps that once seemed insurmountable.

“Azar.”

Jolak addressed the ambassador by his name because that was how comfortable he had become with the Tah’Narians. “I believe our people share more than just interests. We share a vision of a future where our kingdoms are not just allies but friends.”

Azar nodded, his eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and appreciation. “Prince Jolak, your openness does you honor. Tah’Narians value sincerity deeply. We, too, hope for more than a mere alliance of convenience.”

Their conversation ventured into areas of potential collaboration beyond political and technological—from educational exchanges to joint ventures in science and exploration.

And, of course, mates. That was the one thing the Tah’Narians were most interested in.

Back at the castle, these unfolding relationships did not go unnoticed. Rumors swirled among the courtiers. Some admired Jolak’s diplomatic skills while others whispered fears of too great an influence from foreign entities.

Eventually an agreement was reached. As preparations for the formal signing ceremony for the alliance began, Jolak’s thoughts increasingly turned towards the personal implications of this alliance.

A mating was not merely a symbol but also an enduring bond that would influence his life profoundly. He would carry a child, after all. The thought of being tied to someone he had never met weighed heavily on him, casting a shadow over his otherwise successful diplomacy.

That was truly one of the major negatives he had with the situation. But he tried not to waste time on that because such was the life of a royal.

The kingdom’s best artisans had been called upon to decorate the great hall in a manner befitting such a historic event, intertwining elements of both cultures in an attempt to convey unity and respect.

Rich tapestries depicting the lush forests of Jolak’s land hung alongside vibrant cloths woven with the intricate geometric patterns of Tah’Narian artistry.

Jolak stood at the forefront of the preparations, determined that every detail should reflect not only the grandeur of his kingdom but also his commitment to this burgeoning alliance.

He oversaw everything from the layout of the feast tables to the selection of music that would fill the air when their guests arrived.

During this time, tensions with their enemies on the other side of the planet had escalated, the attacks becoming more frequent. Apparently, rumors swirled like leaves in the wind, and according to their spies, the Emperor was serious about sabotaging this alliance.

Jolak sincerely hoped their enemies would not do anything detrimental during the ceremonies, but guards had been increased around the perimeter of the castle and most definitely inside. The last thing they needed was for a delegate to be murdered or injured.

THE NIGHT before the ceremony, Jolak found himself once again wandering the hallways of the castle, soft light flickering against stone walls that had witnessed centuries of history. Each step seemed to echo with the weight of his impending decision.

He paused before a large tapestry depicting the founding of their kingdom, tracing the embroidered figures with a finger that trembled slightly.

Sleep was elusive that night. He’d tossed and turned in his bed, grappling with what might come. The thought of leaving his homeland, potentially forever, to live among strangers was daunting. Yet, there was also a spark of curiosity about what innovations and knowledge might be gained from such a union.

Honestly? He was tired of debating with himself over this. It was in the Fates’ hands now.

MORNING ARRIVED with a sky painted in hues of purple and orange, heralding a day of significant beginnings. The courtyard was bustling as soldiers, advisors, and diplomats gathered, all clad in ceremonial garb.

Amidst them stood Jolak, solemn yet resolute, dressed in ceremonial armor that gleamed under the rising sun—a symbolic gesture of his readiness to defend and unite.

King Bellmore addressed everyone with a speech that resonated with hope yet was underscored by an unmistakable undertone of urgency. “Today,”

he declared, “we embark on a journey not just across seas but into what could be a profound chapter in our history.”

Jolak tuned him out. He’d already heard his father rehearse the speech several times and already knew what was said. This was nothing more than announcing the alliance with the Tah’Narians.

The Tah’Narians beamed down fully dressed in their ceremonial outfits. Jolak had to admit that they were beings of grace and stature. The initial greetings were a mixture of formalities and excitement.

The alliance had already been sent to King Duran to sign and had been returned. All that was left was for King Bellmore to sign and be witnessed by the delegates.

For all the buildup, it was almost anticlimactic. Jolak had much more interesting things on his mind now that the alliance was official.

He wanted to meet King Duran.

As the crowd cheered the signing, everyone moved inside. The banquet had been planned. It consisted of a symphony of tastes and sounds unfamiliar to many at the table but embraced as symbols of a shared future.

Conversations flowed more freely as barriers began to dissolve between two very different peoples bound by a common goal.

The deed was complete and a new chapter in Jolak’s life was set to begin.