Ginny

GINNY

A muscle ticks in Asteron's jaw. Two gerecats regard us solemnly from their cushions near the window in his study which gives the most tremendous view down the valley.

"Why can the medic not come here?" Asteron demands of Phinade whose image is projected, small, on a nearby ornate table. "I do not want my wife traveling, not yet."

We had comms, the Xnossons have virtual holographs. Just when I think I'm getting used to all the new tech, something else comes along.

"The medic division says the instruments used are delicate and do not do well if moved. If you want to be sure, sire…" Phinade leaves the word "sure" hanging, and I think I'd like to push him down one of Britannia 's shafts.

"Fine," Asteron growls, pinching the bridge between his eyes. "Where is the nearest medic-center?"

"There is one in Mazos, sire. I can make the arrangements…" Phinade says somewhat smugly. "It is only a few nova-hours from the royal lodge."

Asteron's chest rumbles with yet another growl. I've been feeling queasy for the past three days and this isn't helping much.

Given my periods were never exactly regular on Britannia because I, along with many other workers, took pills to hold them at bay when they were going to be inconvenient (like cleaning out the forward scrubbers which involved crawling through filthy tubes for three days straight). Even so, I'd have thought at some point my period would put in an appearance.

Unless, of course, I am pregnant.

Asteron terminates the comm with Phinade.

"Why do you put up with him?" I ask, the words blurting out of me. "He treats you like an idiot."

I hate to have to say it. I've been at the hands of many a terrible manager, including Kevin who basically sold me off to continue his little sideline. I think I know management styles, and Asteron's seems to consist of growling, glowering, and threatening to fight anyone.

Except Phinade.

"He was my father's vizier." Asteron sighs as he opens the door to his study and orders a guard to bring him his pilot. "He kept things running while he was…not right and I wasn't prepared to take over. He was the one who broke the news of his death."

"I appreciate he's become like the furniture, but he needs to learn boundaries," I reply. "Regardless of whether he's good at his job or not."

Asteron tugs on one of his horns, a habit I've noticed he does when he's anxious. I don't like it when he's anxious. After everything he's told me, I can sometimes see the weight of responsibility on his broad shoulders.

"Hey." I lean into him. "I didn't mean anything bad. I'm sure Phinade does a fantastic job."

Asteron visibly relaxes at my reassurance. My big Minotaur husband loves being made to feel good.

"Mazos is an impressive city, controlled by clans who are loyal to the throne. We could be going to a worse place, I suppose," Asteron says. "And we can get you a new wardrobe while we are there."

"You mean you want me to wear clothing?" I give myself a shake, my tits swaying under the scraps of silk I have on today.

"I don't want you to wear anything, little queen, but I also don't want my subjects seeing just how delicious you are," he rumbles against my head. "And that means you're going to have to put something on, other than this." He slides a hand through the silk to cup my breast.

"Looks like I'm wearing your clothes, because my only dress is ruined," I retort.

Asteron makes a choking noise in the back of his throat and his dark eyes bulge. "My…clothes?"

"I don't have anything else," I taunt him. I mean, I do have a few things, but this seems like more fun.

He runs a hand down his face. "But how am I going to keep my hands off you?"