Chapter 11

ELEVEN

V enus stirred, her eyelids fluttering open to a world awash in alien opulence. The room she found herself in was a masterpiece of extraterrestrial luxury—walls embedded with softly glowing gemstones that cast an ethereal light across silken sheets and ornate furnishings. For a moment, she lay still, letting her senses absorb the richness around her.

The air was thick with the scent of exotic flora, a cloying sweetness that tickled her nose. As she slowly sat up, a sharp pain in her side reminded her of recent events. Venus winced, her hand instinctively going to the wound she’d sustained during their escape.

“Beautiful but creepy,” she muttered, her eyes darting around the room. Despite the beauty surrounding her, Venus couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Her instincts, honed by years of navigating the treacherous waters of Earth’s political scene, screamed that this was no place for rest.

As if summoned by her thoughts, the door to her chamber swung open. Princess Nyrea glided in, her elaborate gown shimmering with each step. Venus’s eyes narrowed slightly as she took in the alien princess, but her gaze quickly shifted to the two figures who followed Nyrea into the room.

One was a younger girl, unmistakably related to Nyrea with her silver-blonde hair and delicate features, though her eyes held a softer, more curious expression. Behind her trailed a maid, her demeanor subservient but alert.

Venus’s mind raced, quickly assessing the situation. Nyrea hadn’t come alone – whether out of caution or protocol, it meant this visit wasn’t for any overt threats or actions. The presence of witnesses, especially the young girl who Venus assumed must be Nyrea’s sister, added a new layer of complexity to the interaction.

“Venus, dear,” Nyrea’s voice dripped with false sweetness, “I hope you’re finding your accommodations... adequate. This is my sister, Zhera, and her maid, Lira. They’ve come to ensure you have everything you need.”

Venus sat up straighter, ignoring the twinge of pain from her injury. She met Nyrea’s gaze head-on, her own blue eyes sharp and challenging. “Oh, it’s lovely,” she replied, her tone light but edged with steel. “Though I have to say, I prefer my hospitality without an entourage. Are you afraid to face me alone, Princess Nyrea?”

Nyrea’s smile faltered for a split second before she recovered. “Afraid? My dear, you misunderstand. We’re simply concerned for your well-being. After all, you’ve been through quite an ordeal.”

“Where’s Azlun?”

Nyrea’s eyes flashed. “He’s busy meeting with my father. He’s got more important things to do than be here watching you.”

Venus couldn’t help but notice how Nyrea’s eyes flicked over her, assessing her with barely disguised disdain. Every word and every gesture from the alien princess screamed of a woman marking her territory, yet the presence of Zhera and the maid kept her from being too overt in her hostility.

“You seem very concerned about someone who isn’t yours anymore,” Venus said, smiling sweetly. The barb hit home; she saw Nyrea’s jaw clench ever so slightly.

Nyrea moved closer, her posture radiating dominance, but she kept a careful distance, aware of her sister’s curious gaze. “Azlun and I have a long history,” she said, her voice low and threatening, but not so much that it would alarm the others in the room. “A few days of adventure with you won’t change that. You’re an outsider here, Venus. You’d do well to remember that.”

Venus refused to be intimidated. She met Nyrea’s gaze unflinchingly, her rebellious nature bubbling just beneath the surface. “And you’d do well to remember that Azlun chose me,” she shot back. “History is just that—history. We’re building a future.”

The tension in the room was palpable as the two women faced off. Venus noticed Zhera shifting uncomfortably, her eyes darting between her sister and Venus with a mix of fear and fascination. The maid remained impassive, but Venus could see her watching the exchange closely.

Nyrea opened her mouth to retort, but Venus cut her off.

“Thank you for your... hospitality, Princess Nyrea,” Venus said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “But I think I’d like to rest now. Unless, of course, you’d like to continue this delightful chat about your ex in front of your sister?”

Nyrea’s eyes flashed dangerously, but she composed herself quickly, clearly aware of her audience. “Of course,” she said, her voice tight. “Rest well, Venus. We’ll speak again soon.” She turned to her sister and the maid. “Zhera, Lira, come. Let’s allow our guest to recover.”

As Nyrea swept out of the room, Zhera lingered for a moment, her eyes wide with a mixture of admiration and concern. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but a sharp call from Nyrea in the hallway made her jump. With an apologetic smile, she hurried after her sister, the maid following closely behind.

Venus let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. The encounter had been tense, but the presence of Zhera and the maid had kept it from escalating into anything more dangerous. She’d grown up in the public eye, navigating the shark-infested waters of Earth’s political scene, but this—this was a whole new level of danger where even a private conversation was laden with hidden undercurrents and unspoken threats.

No sooner had Nyrea left than a group of servants entered, bearing trays laden with exotic alien dishes. The food looked exquisite, delicate morsels artfully arranged on gold-trimmed plates. But as the servants set the trays down and quietly exited, Venus eyed the meal warily.

“Is this a peace offering or a trap?” she murmured to herself, her gaze lingering on the unfamiliar fare. Growing up as the daughter of Earth’s president had taught her many things, not least of which was to be cautious of unexpected gifts from potential enemies.

Venus’s stomach growled, reminding her that it had been quite some time since she’d last eaten. Still, she hesitated. “Never trust food from the enemy,” she thought, her father’s words echoing in her mind.

As she debated whether or not to risk the meal, a soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Venus tensed, ready for another confrontation, but to her surprise, it wasn’t Nyrea who entered.

The young girl who’d come earlier, no more than sixteen or seventeen Earth years, slipped into the room. She bore a striking resemblance to Nyrea with the same silver-blonde hair and delicate features, but her eyes were a softer shade of lavender, filled with curiosity rather than malice.

“Hi,” the girl said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m Zhera, Nyrea’s sister. I... I hope I’m not bothering you.”

Venus relaxed slightly, intrigued by this unexpected visitor. “Not at all,” she replied, offering a small smile. “I’m Venus. But I guess you already knew that.”

Zhera nodded, her eyes wide with fascination. “Everyone’s talking about you,” she said, moving closer. “Is it true you’re from Earth? What’s it like there? I’ve always wanted to know.”

Venus couldn’t help but chuckle at the girl’s enthusiasm. It was a refreshing change from the hostility she’d faced so far. “It’s... different,” she said, gesturing for Zhera to sit. “Less advanced in some ways, more in others. What do you want to know?”

Zhera’s face lit up as she perched on the edge of Venus’s bed. “Everything! What are the cities like? What do people wear? Do you really have oceans filled with water?”

For the next hour, Venus found herself regaling Zhera with tales of Earth. She described towering skyscrapers and bustling streets, fashion trends that changed with the seasons, and the vast, blue oceans that covered most of her home planet. Zhera listened with rapt attention, her eyes growing wider with each new detail.

“And you said you have sisters?” Zhera asked, leaning in eagerly. “What are they like?”

Venus smiled, thinking of Raelee, Zora, and Mila. “They’re amazing,” she said, a hint of pride in her voice. “Raelee’s the oldest—she used to be a professional race car driver, if you can believe it. Now she’s a cultural ambassador. And Mila, my twin—she’s brilliant. An environmental scientist. Zora is the sweetest and kindest. We used to get into all sorts of trouble together.”

“Trouble?” Zhera’s eyes sparkled with interest. “What kind of trouble?”

Venus laughed, remembering some of their wilder escapades. “Oh, all kinds. Sneaking out of the White House—that’s where the president lives—to go to parties. Taking joyrides in government vehicles. Once, we even managed to crash a diplomatic dinner disguised as waitstaff.”

Zhera giggled, clearly delighted by these tales of rebellion. “That sounds amazing,” she sighed. “I wish I could do things like that. But Nyrea... she’s always watching me. Making sure I behave ‘like a proper princess.’”

Venus felt a pang of sympathy for the young girl. She recognized the look in Zhera’s eyes—the longing for freedom, for adventure. It was a look she’d seen in her own reflection many times growing up.

“Hey,” Venus said softly, reaching out to touch Zhera’s hand. “Being a proper princess doesn’t mean you can’t have adventures. Sometimes, the greatest rebellions are the quiet ones.”

Zhera looked up at her, hope shining in her eyes. “Really? How?”

Venus was about to respond when her stomach let out an audible growl. She glanced ruefully at the untouched food trays, still wary of their contents.

Zhera followed her gaze, understanding dawning on her face. “Oh! You haven’t eaten. Are you... are you worried about the food?”

Venus hesitated, not wanting to offend the young princess. But Zhera’s next words surprised her.

“It’s okay,” Zhera said quietly. “I wouldn’t trust it either. Nyrea... she can be...” She trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

“Dangerous?” Venus supplied. Zhera nodded, looking relieved that she didn’t have to say it herself.

“I can bring you food from my own kitchen,” Zhera offered suddenly. “I know it’s safe. Would that be okay?”

Venus felt a rush of gratitude toward the young princess. “That would be wonderful,” she said sincerely. “Thank you, Zhera. I owe you one.”

Zhera beamed at her, clearly pleased to be helpful. She slipped out of the room, returning a short while later with a tray of simple but appetizing food. As Venus ate, she and Zhera continued to chat, their bond growing stronger with each passing moment.

As the day wore on, Venus found herself growing increasingly fond of the young princess. Zhera’s curiosity about Earth seemed insatiable, and Venus enjoyed sharing stories about her home planet. But even as she regaled Zhera with tales of Earth’s wonders, a part of Venus’s mind was constantly working, plotting her next move.

During a lull in their conversation, Zhera’s eyes sparkled with a mixture of curiosity and mischief. She leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “So... tell me about you and Azlun. What’s he really like? Are you in love with him?”

Venus felt a warmth creep into her cheeks, surprised by the directness of the question. She paused, considering her words carefully. “Azlun is... he’s not what I expected,” she admitted. “When this whole arrangement started, I thought it was just going to be a political union. But now...”

She trailed off, her gaze drifting to the window. Zhera waited patiently, clearly enthralled by this glimpse into Venus’s feelings.

“The truth is,” Venus continued, her voice soft, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Growing up as the president’s daughter on Earth, my every move was watched and scrutinized. I never had the chance to get close to anyone, not really. But with Azlun, it’s different. He sees me for who I am, not just my title or my family’s position.”

Zhera’s eyes widened. “So you do love him!”

Venus laughed softly. “I think I do,” she admitted, the realization hitting her fully as she said the words out loud. “And now that I’ve found this connection with him, I’m not willing to let anyone get in the way of our relationship. Not your sister, not political expectations, not anyone.”

Zhera clapped her hands excitedly. “That’s so romantic! I knew it had to be real love. The way Azlun looks at you... it’s nothing like how he ever looked at Nyrea.”

At the mention of Nyrea, Venus felt a twinge of unease. “Zhera,” she asked carefully, “what exactly happened between Azlun and your sister?”

Zhera’s expression turned serious. “Nyrea only wants Azlun because he rejected her,” she said, her voice low. “She can’t stand the idea that someone doesn’t want her. But the truth is... Azlun never really had a relationship with her at all.”

Venus leaned in, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

Zhera glanced around as if checking for eavesdroppers before continuing. “The only reason Azlun even spent a night here is because Nyrea drugged him,” she whispered.

“What?” Venus exclaimed, her eyes flashing with anger.

Zhera nodded solemnly. “I overheard Nyrea instructing a maid to put something in Azlun’s wine. She said it was a potent drug. But it knocked him out completely, so nothing actually happened between them. Nyrea just pretended it had.”

Venus sat back, processing this information. A mix of relief and outrage washed over her. “That’s... that’s awful,” she said, her voice tight with anger. “How could she do something like that?”

Zhera shrugged, looking sad. “Nyrea’s always been like that. She thinks she can have whatever she wants, no matter who she hurts.”

Venus shook her head, still reeling from the revelation. Though she hadn’t expected Azlun to have been celibate before meeting her, the idea of him and Nyrea together had made her blood boil. Knowing the truth quelled that jealousy monster that had been growing inside her.

“Thank you for telling me this, Zhera,” Venus said softly, reaching out to squeeze the young princess’s hand. “It means a lot to know the truth.”

Zhera smiled, clearly happy to have helped. “I’m just glad you and Azlun found each other. It gives me hope that real love is possible even in our world of politics and arranged marriages.”

Venus chuckled. “It’s not easy, that’s for sure. But it’s worth fighting for.”

As they sat in companionable silence for a moment, Venus realized how much she and Zhera had in common. “You know,” she said, “growing up as the president’s daughter wasn’t so different from your life as a princess. Always in the public eye, every move scrutinized, expectations weighing you down.”

Zhera’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Yes. That’s exactly how it feels. Like you can never just be yourself.”

Venus nodded. “It’s suffocating sometimes, isn’t it? But you know what I learned? There’s strength in being yourself, in staying true to who you are despite all the pressure.”

“How do you do it?” Zhera asked, leaning forward eagerly.

Venus smiled. “It’s not always easy. But you start small. Find the things that make you happy, that make you feel like yourself, and hold onto them. For me, it was architecture, martial arts, and spending time with my sisters. What is it for you?”

Zhera thought for a moment. “I love tending to the gardens,” she said shyly. “And reading about other cultures. Earth culture especially.”

“Then that’s where you start,” Venus said encouragingly. “Nurture those interests. They’re part of what makes you unique.”

As they continued to talk, sharing experiences and advice, Venus felt a growing bond with the young princess. In Zhera, she saw a kindred spirit.

Their conversation was interrupted by a soft knock at the door, signaling that Zhera needed to leave. As the young princess stood to go, she turned to Venus with a determined look in her eyes.

At that moment, Venus knew the young lady would survive and thrive despite her environment.