Chapter 16

Serval

Prince Qui'tal was a wealthy male, the only son of a powerful, wealthy shinuk queen whose bloodline ruled a stable pod for nine generations. He was, however, not the heir to the pod. That honor belonged to his third eldest sister, who herself had already had four daughters, any of whom could inherent.

Which meant Prince Qui'tal was wealthy, but largely unnoticed by his powerful mother, and a male surrounded by females who either wanted a chance to breed a royal blood baby who, themselves, would be capable of ruling a pod, or just wanted to share the bed of a wealthy, powerful male. The reason didn't really matter, the result was the same.

He was pompous, arrogant, entitled, and unchecked. The party he was hosting was in celebration of a rusk race he had won. Rusks were very fast animals, large and beautiful, and capable of climbing very rough terrain. Racing them was an old sport on Holivair. Though, it was not a particularly popular one as being able to maintain a single rusk was a huge undertaking owing to their size and all that was involved in their care.

In other words, it was a sport for the wealthy. And Prince Qui'tal, if he really was involved in exotic animal trade, would certainly be drawn to the animal-based sport.

Though Sophie had made them late, they still arrived before Prince Qui'tal. During which time, Sophie began taking Serval through the room. His segment with her had been a hit, so not only was he recognized, but so was she. And she played to their expectations in full form. Batting her eyes, cocking her hip, posing subtly and laughing brightly.

She had the room eating out of her little hands. They admired her flower silk dress. She told them exactly who made it. She twirled for their benefit. She drank the flower wine and expressed her delight. She greeted people she just met like old friends and integrated with the alien crowd like she had been born on Holotulle and was accustomed to being around various species.

And then, Prince Qui'tal appeared.

Serval had dressed up, but he appeared as a pauper in comparison. Prince Qui'tal was a handsome male by shinuk standards. His pointed ears were large, reaching all the way back around his head. His black skin had blue undertones. He must have bleached and dyed his hair, because it was bright blue, pulled back into a tail and threaded with brighter blue crystals. He wore a cape made of feathers in a rainbow of colors that trailed behind him with white fur around his collar, a gleaming silver pendant set with a rainbow of gems resting on his bare chest. His skin was oiled and dusted with glitter so he shimmered and shined as he walked down the stairs in the central ballroom of his mansion – not the royal residence, because he liked to pretend he didn't still live on his mother's credz. His pants were fluttering around his legs, bright white, and tucked into a pair of white leather boots that were studded with gems that flared in a rainbow of colors.

He went right past tacky, past gaudy, and landed on art piece. He soaked up the appreciation and approval of the people as they all turned and clapped for him. Sophie did the same, so quickly and seamlessly, it seemed like she already knew she should do so.

Serval, however, stepped back.

Everyone's attention was taken by the prince. He slipped into the halls outside the main room. He gestured to his combot, setting it to dark mode, and sent it flying ahead of him. He stalked after it, putting a little piece in his ear.

It turned a corner. A moment later, it chirped at him through the earpiece. All clear. He followed after it, running over the mansion building plans in his head.

This place was old. Prince Qui'tal had bought it for the provenance – it was the oldest, most stable building in his pod. He then added on to it to make it luxurious enough for his standards. But that meant that the old building plans were still recorded and easy to access. Serval guessed he wouldn't have changed the modular building that much or he'd risk losing what made it valuable. On the ever changing Holivair, old things were rare and precious.

And he was right. He followed the outer halls down into the servant rooms. The kitchens were busy, making the various foods and drinks being served upstairs. But the laundry rooms were completely empty. Which gave him easy access to the servant halls that connected upstairs to the private rooms of Prince Qui'tal. Which, in turn, gave him access to his workroom without Serval ever needing to step into the halls where security was keeping watch. The prince wouldn't have security cams in his private rooms or office, and the servant halls didn't have them at all. A weakness in the security system that too many foolish, powerful people made because they didn't think about the people beneath them and didn't want to spend credz to keep security there.

Serval's combot wasn't just checking for other people. It was also scanning for recording devices. Its chirp meant that it found neither, easing his trip through the back halls.

The prince's rooms was just as ostentatious as he was. They were also messy. The fabulous six poster bed was covered in pillows, unmade, and still stunk of perfume and sex like he had just rolled out and into the hands of whoever helped dress him today.

Beyond his rooms, his private office was even less neat. There were still dirty dishes on the side tables, and a female's panties were tossed over the head of a beautiful, marble bust of one of the previous kings of the pod. There was a charging dock here for the prince's combot, but it was empty at the moment.

It was, however, Serval's target. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small toolkit as he grabbed the dock and picked it up, turning it over. With practiced ease, he removed the bottom panel. The wiring and circuits inside were still new and in pristine condition.

Serval pulled out a tiny transmitter from his toolkit and installed it into the base. Once it was secured and his combot confirmed it was working, he replaced the base, set the dock back into its proper position, and snuck out of the room.

Back into the servant halls, back through the empty laundry, up through the public halls, and back into the ballroom.

His trip had been so quick, Prince Qui'tal wasn't even finished with his welcome speech. He was thanking them all for coming, thanking the sponsors of his rusk – a small, quick female named Shi'ti'le – and was encouraging everyone to have a great time. Mostly, he was just talking to hear the sound of his own voice.

Serval moved to the buffet tables to grab two drinks, then returned to Sophie who was watching the prince with all apparent interest. She even clapped before the others this time when he finished, like she was the only one who had been listening.

"Got your drink, lov'alel," Serval announced, turning her attention back to him.

"Oh, thank you," she smiled, accepting the shallow glass filled with sparkling flower wine, a single, dark flower floating on its surface. "I didn't even see you leave."

Serval smiled knowingly. "I'm very quick. Taste. This is my favorite blend."

She held up her glass. "Salud."

He cocked his head curiously. "What is that?"

"It's a well wish among my people. Lift your drink," she instructed. He did so, mimicking her. "I raise mine to you, as you raise yours to me. We wish each other good health and good tidings by saying ‘salud'. So, salud."

He raised his drink, in her honor, he understood, and responded easily, "Salud."

She copied him as he brought the drink up, and they drank together. A human custom, one he was happy to participate in, as he truly did wish for her good health and tidings. Her eyes widened with delight as she sipped.

"It's so sour! Oh, but it's good."

Serval smiled back. "You like this place."

"I do," she nodded, drinking more. "It's like an amazing vacation. I've always loved traveling. This is like the ultimate form of traveling. A great party, a great guy, and a whole new culture full of amazing people. It couldn't get better!"

"It will get better." The promise came swift and unbidden from Serval's mouth. He was annoyed for some reason, and he realized quickly why.

She should be thinking this about Wav'aii. She should be feeling this excitement and joy for his planet instead. He should have taken her home already. He wanted her to see the nesting pools, the wii, his family home, his family.

He had made the decision to keep those things from her, only because, selfishly, he hadn't wanted to return. It now seemed like a spectacularly dumb decision.

"Oh, look," Sophie turned, eyes sparkling. "They've started dancing!"

"Then, we will join them," Serval said, pushing aside his annoyance and taking her empty cup.

"Huh? I don't know that dance," she frowned, looking back at the formal, traditional steps.

The party would, no doubt, devolve into debauchery and more casual dancing later. But the traditional dance was chosen first to showcase the prince's outfit, as it involved a lot of spinning, which would allow his glorious cape to ne seem at its best.

The dance was meant for one person, as the shinuk people would either dance alone or, less popularly these days, as part of a group. The better dancers were very acrobatic, showing off their natural inclination for climbing and sure-footed grace.

But the casual dance was a lot of spinning, whirling around, showing off the lines of one's body or the movements of one's outfit.

Something that Sophie would, no doubt, excel at, even without the obnoxious cape.

"It's easy," Serval promised, motioning a passing servant to take their cups. "Just move with the timing of the music and try not to hit anyone."

"I'm going to get dizzy," Sophie laughed, not even trying to resist him as he took her hand and pulled her towards the other revelers.

He chuckled. "Dizzy? From spinning? You humans are so delicate. Don't worry, lov'alel, I won't let you fall. Spin. Show them how beautiful my mate is."

Sophie laughed, and she did.

All eyes were on her as she copied the movements of those around her. Wide, sweeping motions with her arms. Tall kicks. Swirling around to expand her skirt. She moved with easy human grace and sensuality that naturally drew all eyes onto her.

Serval didn't really dance.

He stalked.

He moved around his female. Making sure that no one else, especially not those lusty eyed males watching her with undisguised hunger, dared to get closer to her. Her smile was bright, her eyes alight with joy and fun, and he would let no one interfere with that.

She didn't know, she couldn't, that he stalked her as an allowee male would his female as she swam about in the water. Dancing in the waves, in the currents. Pretending to be oblivious as he came closer, and closer.

Serval did the same. Imagining Sophie in the oceans of home. Imagining her in his arms. The taste of her on his tongue.

She whirled around, laughing, having a grand time. Completely oblivious to the hungry predator that stalked her in the water.

***

Flower wine was not very sweet. It had a delectable, subtle flavor that flowed smoothly over the tongue. It also hid its intoxicating contents very well. The type of intoxicant varied based on the flower or flowers used to make the wine. It just so happened that Sophie preferred one that left the drinker very sleepy and content.

Serval ended up carrying her back to the hotel where he carefully put her to bed, taking off her shoes and jewelry, leaving her in the dress. The flower silk would wrinkle terribly, but it would be comfortable while she dozed for the next day or so.

He didn't think she understood what she consumed until she finally emerged from the room, hair wild, dress mussed and wrinkled, makeup smeared, eyes heavy and wide with disbelief.

"Did I just sleep for a full day?" She asked immediately, surprised, leaning against the wall.

Serval, who had been working on some other potential leads for stories, just sat back on the sofa, away from the display off his combot, and grinned at her.

"You did. The flower wine you drank makes you tired."

She rubbed her face, spreading more of her makeup. "I wish someone warned me about that."

"I forgot that you wouldn't know. That's my fault, lov'alel. But I made sure to bring you water and you got up to use the privy a few times."

She groaned. "I don't even remember that."

He chuckled as she stumbled across the room. The deep sleep would have left her extremely rejuvenated, but also weak and uncoordinated for a while as her body tried to wake up fully. The door sliding shut into the privy wasn't thick enough to disguise her short cry of dismay when she caught a look at herself in the mirror.

Serval could only laugh, adjusting his hard cock.

She was a mess, and all the more adorable for it. Her mussed hair and dress and makeup did nothing at all to detract from her beauty. If anything, he only wished that he could be the one who made her look like that.

"We're returning to my ship today," he yelled out, getting back to work.

The door opened and she glared at him. "Why didn't you tell me I look like this!?" Her face was wet from where she had already cleaned it.

He just grinned. "I already told you that you looked beautiful, lov'alel. You want me to repeat it?"

She tried and failed not to smile before tossing back her hair. "Yes, I do. I require adulation at least once a day, twice on Sundays, and constantly on special occasions."

"Noted, my beauty," he nodded formally. "Then, let me tell you that you're absolutely breathtaking this morning."

She leveled a finger at him. "Doesn't count when I look like a swamp witch and you're humoring me. When do you want to leave?"

"Half a mark."

"Fine, I'll be ready." She turned, flouncing back into the privy.

He smiled, getting back to work. A full mark later, they were finally leaving the hotel, getting on a landing shuttle, and returning to his ship.