CHAPTER 21

Chloe couldn't believe her eyes. The view through the numerous illuminators along the right wall said she was in outer space, yet before her was a hall straight out of an 18th century European palace. Cue rows of Corinthian columns supporting a painted ceiling, a wall covered in tapestries, and women in ballroom gowns which each took space for two people. Had Chloe still been wearing her Cinderella gown, she would be feeling underdressed right now. Good thing Trixie had prepared an appropriate attire for Chloe to get changed in – a dress straight out of a fashion history museum, minus the heaviness thanks to the 3D-printed fabrics.

"What do you think, girl?"

"How?" was all Chloe could muster as she stood at the entrance and took in the mind-boggling sight.

Trixie snickered at Chloe's slack-jawed look. "Holograms. This is actually a training hall where the soldiers practice hand-to-hand combat and shooting in various environments. Millie's sweetheart, who is like an IT expert, has made sure the holograms tonight depict a Gaenthian ballroom. Can you imagine – while on Earth we're having barbecues with our neighbors, these guys are having balls with theirs. Isn't it insane?"

Chloe blinked. "You mean to tell me this interior does not depict a palace ballroom on Earth?"

"This is a traditional Gaenthian style from way back that they use to this very day on their home planet. It is European royalty who copied the style but pretended it was their idea to hide their contact with extraterrestrials from the general populace. Louis XIV was particularly influenced by Gaenthian fashion, by the way."

"Oh." Crazy indeed.

"What do you think of the men's fashion?" Trixie asked with a twinkle in her eye.

"Uhh…" The knee-long kilt, the shirt of the same color as the kilt with the sleeves rolled up, and the fitted black vest managed to make the Gaenthians' physique look even more impressive. But Chloe could only think of how devastating Nitiel would look in such a Highlander-style suit. He would be the most gorgeous male in the hall.

Trixie giggled. "Uh is right! I adore the way those vests accentuate the waistline and hug a guy like a lover. When I saw my boo bear in one last week, we ended up missing half the ball because I kept him at home for a looong time." Another giggle. "In my defense, he also wore a shirt and kilt in red – the color of his clan – and with his green skin tone, he got me in the Christmas mood. I wanted all my presents, having been a good girl throughout the year." Trixie winked.

"Oh, so the color of the kilt and shirt depends on the clan." What color did Nitiel wear, then? Did he even go to such balls? Chloe felt the urge to go back to him and find out. About this and many other things. But he had sent her away, and she would not return to beg for his attention. She would stay here and enjoy the evening.

"We girls have to wear the color of our niel's clan as well," Trixie explained. "It doesn't have to be the only color we have on us, thankfully – that would get boring pretty quickly. In my case, I have a red belt, and that does the trick."

Chloe took in Trixie's yellow dress. The embroidery on the bodice and full skirt was a work of art. Then Chloe looked down at her similarly decorated gown. "Is dark blue the Commander's color?"

"No. His is brown. Blah. I couldn't make myself print you anything in that color, sorry. Blue, though… It would have looked great with the Subcommander by your side, with his blue eyes and purple complexion. I expected you two to attend together, but… well. That naughty boy Biriniel J just had to release all the untamed cibiris from their pen." Trixie took Chloe's hand to lead her deeper into the hall, toward a small group of conversing women. "Let's enjoy our own freedom, shall we?"

Chloe nodded. It would do her good to stop thinking about Nitiel and focus on the unique experience of an alien ball in space.

Some exotic pastries and a glass of French wine later, she already knew all the seven women at the ball – make that all the women on the station minus two who were not in attendance. They came from different countries and continents, a diverse group who had no problem communicating thanks to Gaenthian language implants. They were of various ages and backgrounds as well. Three had jobs for companies on Earth that allowed working from space regardless of the time difference, two were employed on the station, and the rest had chosen not to work. Some already had babies, while others planned to wait before becoming mothers.

One thing these women all had in common was being head over heels in love with their alien husbands. They also loved living on this space station.

Talking with them made Chloe conscious of her rusty social skills. In under thirty minutes, she had had more social interactions than in the last year taken together. It was nice, but it also made her realize how much of life she had missed while focusing on her jewelry business.

As her new acquaintances one by one went to join their partners for some dancing to lively alien music in the center of the hall, Chloe's thoughts drifted back in time. To the countless nights spent hunched over the latest piece of jewelry. To all those times she had declined her friends' invitations until they stopped calling. She had worked hard, and she had worked a lot – making one's dreams a reality was no easy feat. But what if in the process one forgot to enjoy life?

Chloe couldn't be happy without her creations, but would she be happy with her jewelry by herself? What would her life be like if she had someone by her side? Someone to dance with, go on long walks in the park with, snuggle with… Someone like Nitiel?

Two days into this trip, and she was already so used to having him around. Just the thought of going back to her tiny apartment solo sounded dull to her. And terribly lonely. Chloe felt a pang in her heart.

Followed by a jab in the hip as someone elbowed her. She took her eyes off the dancing couples and looked at Trixie to her left.

Her new friend was giving her a worried look. "You okay, honey? You've been through a lot today. If the party is too much, we can leave?"

"No, the ball is awesome. It's just that…" She nervously finger-traced the golden treads of elaborate embroidery on her skirt, which looked like stars scattered across the night sky.

"You wish your hunk were with you?"

Chloe gasped. Was she so obvious?... But wait, Trixie had to be referring to the Commander. All the women here had assured Chloe that when she met her fated mate, it would be the greatest thing ever. They had told her stories of their first meetings, some funny and others worth fanning yourself over. No one, Trixie included, could imagine Chloe had the hots for someone other than her so-called niel. Admitting to that couldn't possibly go well.

"Yeah, it would be nice to have him here," Chloe told Trixie then opted for a joke. "I mean, I have no idea how to dance this tango-waltz-ceilidh thing, and who knows if he dances at all, but still."

"Oh, the Subcommander does dance. I haven't seen him on a dance floor, but Vrixiel told me his friend has got the moves. Gaenthians dance a lot at military parties."

"Uhhh…"

Trixie grinned. "I saw how you were looking at Nitiel in the medical bay. If I had doubts before, they're gone now. You have a crush on the purple stud muffin."

"Trixie!" Chloe's cheeks were on fire.

"What? Isn't it so?"

Chloe covered her face with her hands. "It is," she mumbled.

Trixie elbowed her in the hip again. "Come on, there's nothing to be ashamed of. I told you to listen to your heart, remember? If it goes all pitter-patter when the Subcommander is around… "

Chloe groaned. "It does. When I'm with him, it does somersaults, my knees turn to Jell-o, I get butterflies on crack in my belly… But it's hopeless!"

Trixie snorted. "Who says so?"

"Well, everyone! The ASI, the happily married women here–"

"Girl, since when do you care about the ASI's opinion?"

"It's not just the ASI, Trixie. It's Nitiel. He keeps pushing me away. I know he's into me, but it's clear his duties come first. His task to deliver me to his boss comes first. While he was delirious from the blood loss, he said he wished I were his niela, but now he wants me to forget about that and–"

Trixie squealed and clapped her hands.

"Um…"

"Sorry, Chloe, but that's so romantic! There's no stronger confession of feelings for a Gaenthian. The Subcommander is clearly head over feathers about you. He wants to sweep you up and fly toward the sunset with you and–Aaah, it's the perfect plot for a romance novel!"

Chloe shook her head. "This is no book, Trixie. This is real life, where one rarely gets what they want."

"Oh, shush." Trixie waved her hand dismissively. "This may be real life, but it's real life with aliens. You want something, they can make it happen. Look where you're standing – this is Millie's princess fantasies-turned-reality! For a second week in a row! She simply had to ask nicely and thank her himbo just as nicely after." Trixie tilted her chin in the direction of the dance floor.

Millie, a 43-year-old German, was locked in a PG-18 kiss with her six-horned orange guy, the dance forgotten. The others were dancing around them as if they were a column, and not a couple halfway into tearing each other's clothes off right then and there.

"You know what, honey?" Trixie rubbed her hands together. "I have just the thing to make the uptight Subcommander forget all about his duties."