Chapter 17

SEVENTEEN

T he war room hummed with tension, its high-tech displays casting an eerie blue glow over the faces of those gathered around the central holographic table. The 3D map of the palace grounds rotated slowly, each flicker of light representing a potential threat. Venus leaned forward, her fingers ghosting over the shimmering projections, mind racing with possibilities.

Azlun’s voice cut through her thoughts, tight with barely contained anger. “We need to root out these traitors before they can make another attempt on Venus’s life. I won’t have her in danger every time she steps outside.”

Venus couldn’t help but smirk. “What, and miss out on my daily dose of adrenaline? You’re no fun, Your Highness.”

Azlun shot her a look that was half exasperation, half fondness. “This isn’t a joke, Venus.”

“Who’s joking?” she retorted, but softened her tone at the genuine worry in his eyes.

Garek nodded, his usually jovial face uncharacteristically grim. “Agreed, but how? They’ve gone to ground since the last attack. It’s like trying to catch smoke with our bare hands.”

“Well,” Dravek interjected, cracking his knuckles, “we could always start interrogating the entire palace staff. I volunteer to handle the physical aspects.”

Amari rolled her eyes. “Yes, because nothing says ‘we trust our people’ like putting them through Dravek’s idea of a friendly chat. Any other brilliant ideas?”

Venus straightened, a plan already forming. “Actually,” she said, her voice cutting through the bickering, “I might have one. We draw them out. Set a trap.” She paused for dramatic effect. “With me as the bait.”

The reaction was immediate and exactly as she’d expected. Azlun’s head snapped up, his eyes blazing. “Absolutely not. It’s too dangerous. I won’t allow it.”

Venus raised an eyebrow. “Won’t allow it? Last I checked, I wasn’t asking for permission, Princey.”

“Venus,” Azlun growled, but she held up a hand to stall his protests.

“Hear me out,” she insisted. “They want me dead, right? So we give them what looks like the perfect opportunity. A vulnerable little Earth girl, all alone and defenseless.” She batted her eyelashes exaggeratedly, earning a snort from Dravek.

“I’m listening,” Garek said, leaning in with interest.

Venus outlined her plan, watching as understanding dawned on their faces. “We make it known that Azlun and Dravek are leaving the palace on urgent business. Garek and Amari will be ‘busy’ with important meetings. And poor, helpless me? I’ll just happen to be taking a stroll in the gardens, right where I was attacked last time.”

Amari was the first to nod approvingly. “It’s risky,” she admitted, “but it could work. We’d need to coordinate perfectly, have backup in place...”

“I don’t like it,” Azlun growled, his fists clenched at his sides. “There are too many variables, too much that could go wrong. What if we can’t get to you in time? What if they decide to kill you on the spot instead of taking you?”

Venus moved to his side, placing a hand on his arm. “Hey,” she said softly, waiting until he met her eyes. “I know it’s not ideal, but it’s our best shot at ending this threat once and for all. Trust me. I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve.” She grinned. “Besides, I’ve always wanted to try my hand at acting. Think I could win a Tharvisian Oscar for ‘Best Performance by a Kidnapped Earthling’?”

For a moment, Venus thought he might refuse. Then, with a heavy sigh, Azlun nodded. “All right,” he conceded. “But we do this my way. Every precaution, every safeguard. I want a full team on standby, surveillance drones, the works. I won’t risk losing you.”

“Aw, you do care,” Venus teased, but squeezed his hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. Promise not to have too much fun without you.”

As they hammered out the details, Venus felt a mix of anticipation and dread. This had to work. The alternative didn’t bear thinking about. But as she looked around at the determined faces of her newfound family, she knew they’d have her back, come hell or high water – or in this case, traitorous alien guards.

The evening air was crisp, carrying the sweet scent of alien blossoms as Venus strolled along the garden path. To any observer, she looked relaxed and carefree – the perfect target. She even hummed a little Earth tune, playing up the ‘oblivious human’ act for all it was worth.

Inside, however, her senses were on high alert, every rustle of leaves setting her nerves on edge. The micro-communicator hidden in her ear crackled softly.

“Three hostiles approaching from your back,” Garek’s voice murmured. “Get ready.”

Venus took a deep breath, channeling her inner damsel in distress. “Showtime,” she whispered to herself.

The attack, when it came, was swift and brutal. Rough hands grabbed her from behind, a cloth pressed to her face. Venus struggled, but not too hard – just enough to be convincing. She let out a muffled scream, praying it sounded authentically terrified and not like she was trying not to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

As the world began to blur, she heard gruff voices arguing above her.

“We should just kill her here,” one growled. “Why risk taking her to Oran?”

“Orders are orders,” another replied. “Oran wants to do it himself. Says it’ll send a stronger message.”

“Yeah, well, if she keeps squirming like this, I might accidentally snap her neck anyway. Fragile little thing, isn’t she?”

Venus resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Fragile, her ass. She could probably take all three of them in a fair fight. But that wasn’t the plan, so she let her body go limp, feigning unconsciousness while her mind raced. Oran? Eerion’s brother? This was bigger than they’d thought.

As they carried her to what she assumed was their transport, Venus allowed herself a small, internal smile. They had no idea what they were in for. “Fragile little thing” was about to show them just how dangerous an Earth girl could be.

The journey was a blur of hushed voices and rough handling. Venus drifted in and out of consciousness, partly from the drugs they’d used, partly by design. Each time she “woke,” she played the part of the confused, terrified captive with an enthusiasm that would have made her high school drama teacher proud.

“W-where are you taking me?” she slurred, injecting a note of panic into her voice. Her lower lip trembled for good measure. “Please, I don’t understand what’s happening!”

One of her captors, clearly not the brightest star in the galaxy, took the bait. “Shut up,” he growled, but then couldn’t resist adding, “You’ll find out soon enough when Oran gets his hands on you.”

Venus widened her eyes, letting tears gather. Time to turn up the waterworks. “Oran? Who’s Oran? Please, I don’t know what you want from me! I’m just a simple Earth girl. I don’t know anything important!”

She sniffled pathetically, watching with hidden amusement as the guard shifted uncomfortably. Hook, line, and sinker.

The other guard elbowed his companion. “Ignore her. She’s just trying to get information. Don’t fall for those fake tears.”

“I assure you,” Venus whimpered, “these tears are very real. Along with the contents of my stomach, which I’m about to share with you if this ship doesn’t stop spinning.”

That got their attention. The idea of dealing with a vomiting prisoner seemed to horrify them more than any resistance she could have put up. Venus filed that information away for future reference. Who knew alien warriors had such weak stomachs?

With each carefully crafted question, each frightened plea, Venus pieced together more of their plan: A warrior ship waited in orbit. Oran burned with revenge for his brother’s death, ready to plunge Tharvis into all-out war. It was like a bad space opera, and Venus was determined to rewrite the ending.

As they approached their destination, Venus sent up a silent prayer. She only hoped Azlun could control his protective instincts long enough for them to spring their trap. Knowing him, he was probably already fighting the urge to storm the ship single-handedly, consequences be damned.

“Almost there, princess,” one of the guards sneered. “Ready to meet your maker?”

Venus let out a pitiful whimper, all the while thinking of a dozen witty comebacks she wished she could use. Maintaining this facade was harder than she’d thought. She made a mental note to demand acting lessons if she survived this – a princess should be prepared for all eventualities, after all.

The real battle was just beginning, and Venus was determined to see it through. Besides, she thought with grim humor, what was the point of being a princess if you couldn’t occasionally save the kingdom?

And if she happened to thoroughly embarrass these so-called warriors in the process? Well, that was just a bonus. Venus Arison, soon-to-be Princess of Tharvis, was about to show the galaxy exactly what an Earth girl was capable of.

Oran and his cronies wouldn’t know what hit them.