Chapter 1

ONE

T he royal palace of Tharvis was a riot of contradictions. Sleek, futuristic design melded seamlessly with nature-integrated technology, creating an environment that was both alien and oddly familiar.

Glowing bioluminescent plants lined the walls of the extensive hallways, their soft, pulsating light casting ever-changing shadows that danced across the polished surfaces. It was as if the very essence of Tharvis—mysterious, advanced, and deeply connected to its natural world—had been distilled into architectural form.

Holographic displays flickered to life as Mila Arison strode past, offering a dizzying array of information. Weather patterns swirled in miniature storms, political news scrolled by in a script that looked like elaborate calligraphy, and real-time updates on the planet’s ecosystem flashed in vibrant colors. It was information overload, Tharvisian style, and it made Mila’s scientist brain itch with curiosity.

But curiosity wasn’t the dominant sentiment coursing through her at the moment. As the sounds of laughter and music from her twin sister Venus’s wedding reception faded behind her, Mila felt a complex cocktail of emotions bubbling up: relief at escaping the stuffy formalities, excitement at the prospect of diving into her research, and a gnawing sense of... what? Dread? Anticipation? Whatever it was, it had everything to do with her own impending political marriage to Prince Roqron Tharvis.

“Marriage,” Mila muttered under her breath, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Because that’s exactly what every girl dreams of—being hitched to an alien prince she barely knows for the sake of intergalactic diplomacy. Talk about living the dream. Two weddings down and two to go.”

Her feet, clad in practical flats that she’d stubbornly worn despite the royal dress code (because like hell was she tottering around in heels all day), carried her swiftly through the labyrinthine corridors. She had a destination in mind, one that promised solace amid the chaos of her thoughts: the palace science lab.

As the lab’s door slid open with a soft hiss that sounded suspiciously like a sigh of relief, her shoulders relaxed for the first time in hours. The sterile yet beautiful environment was filled with floating data screens and advanced equipment that would make any Earth scientist weep with envy.

“Now this,” Mila said, a genuine smile spreading across her face, “is my kind of party.”

She made her way to an empty workstation, her fingers already itching to get started. From her bag (because, of course, she’d brought her equipment to a wedding—a girl had to have priorities), she pulled out her portable environmental scanner. The device, a marvel of Earth technology that she’d personally modified, looked almost quaint next to the sleek Tharvisian tech surrounding her. But appearances could be deceiving—much like herself in this ridiculous bridesmaid dress.

“All right, you beautiful hunk of Earth ingenuity,” she cooed to the scanner as she began setting it up. “Let’s show these fancy alien gadgets what we’re made of, shall we?”

As she worked, connecting various modules with the kind of dexterity that came from countless hours of practice, Mila’s mind wandered to her sisters.

Raelee was on her honeymoon with Vex, soon to return. Venus was now off with Azlun on their honeymoon. And Zora, the most nature-loving of them all, had been utterly fascinated by the Tharvisian flora and was last seen cooing over some exotic alien plant in the palace gardens.

“I swear,” Mila chuckled to herself, “between Raelee’s political savvy, Venus’s mysterious disappearing acts, and Zora’s ability to charm every plant and animal in a five-mile radius, I’m the only normal one in this family. And I’m talking to a piece of scientific equipment, so that’s saying something.”

She wasn’t particularly worried about any of them. The Arison sisters were a force to be reckoned with, each in their own unique way. They’d all undergone extensive self-defense training, and as Mila liked to say, they didn’t just kick ass—they kicked ass with style.

“I bet Venus spends her entire honeymoon debating with Azlun,” Mila mused aloud, a fond smile playing on her lips. “Zora’s likely adopted half the palace garden by now, and Raelee... well, let’s hope she’s getting her freak on.”

The familiar task of calibrating her eco-sensor helped calm her nerves, pushing thoughts of arranged marriages and her sisters’ various escapades to the back of her mind. The blue light from the device’s display cast a soft glow on her face, highlighting the determination in her eyes and the spattering of freckles across her nose that she’d never quite managed to get rid of despite her mother’s best efforts and the miracles of modern cosmetics.

“Come on, you temperamental piece of Earth tech,” she muttered, giving the scanner a gentle tap. “Work with me here. We’ve got a whole alien ecosystem to study, and I’d rather not have to ask the Tharvisians for help. My ego can only take so many hits in one day.”

As if the universe had a particularly ironic sense of humor (which in Mila’s experience, it often did), the lab door slid open at that exact moment. Mila didn’t bother looking up, assuming it was one of the robotic assistants she’d seen hovering around earlier. It wasn’t until she heard the measured footsteps and felt the presence of someone decidedly non-robotic standing nearby that she realized her solitude had been invaded.

“Oh, hey, you’re still here?” Mila said casually, glancing up briefly. The words died in her throat as she took in the sight before her.

Prince Roqron Tharvis stood there, his formal demeanor as intact as ever, but with a flicker of curiosity in his dark eyes that made Mila’s heart do a little somersault. She’d noticed he was attractive before, in an abstract, alien prince kind of way. But here, in the soft glow of the lab, with his perfect posture slightly relaxed and a hint of genuine interest on his face... well, let’s just say Mila suddenly understood why some of the palace staff seemed to swoon whenever he walked by.

His tall frame cut an imposing figure against the backdrop of the lab’s sleek design. The formal attire he wore, all clean lines and subtle shimmers that seemed to change color with his movements, fit him like a glove. But it was his hair that really caught Mila’s attention—black and white, styled in that perfect blend of royal sophistication and casual charm that seemed effortless but probably took hours to achieve.

“I wasn’t aware our lab was available for... impromptu visits,” Roqron said, his deep voice carrying a mix of amusement and curiosity that sent a shiver down Mila’s spine.

Mentally shaking herself (because really, ogling her future husband was not on today’s to-do list), Mila forced her fingers to keep working as she responded. “Well, it is now. If you’ve got any objections, you’ll have to take it up with the portable scanner over there. We’re kind of in the middle of something important.” She looked up at him fully, arching an eyebrow. “Also, not that I’m worried or anything, but have you seen any of my sister wandering around? You know, Zora trying to adopt every plant in sight?”

The mention of her sisters caused a brief flicker of confusion to cross Roqron’s face, softening his regal features in a way that made him look more... human. “I believe I saw your sister Zora in the royal gardens earlier, conversing with our head botanist. She seemed quite... enthusiastic about our flora…” He trailed off, looking slightly bemused.

“Let me guess,” Mila said with a grin, “Zora’s managed to charm not just the plants but half the palace staff as well? Yeah, she has that effect on people. And plants. And animals. Basically anything living.”

“She does seem to have a unique connection with nature,” Roqron admitted, a hint of admiration in his voice. “It’s quite remarkable.”

“That’s Zora for you,” Mila said, turning back to her work. “She’s probably already figured out how to communicate with your bioluminescent plants. I swear, sometimes I think she missed her calling as a Disney princess.”

Roqron moved closer, and Mila caught a whiff of something that smelled like a mix of citrus and thunderstorms. It was intoxicating, and she had to resist the urge to lean in closer.

“Your technology,” he observed, a hint of fascination in his voice as his eyes scanned over her equipment. “It’s different than ours.”

Mila couldn’t help but smirk. “Well, we can’t all have fancy Tharvisian tech that probably reads minds and predicts the future. Some of us have to make do with good old-fashioned Earth ingenuity. And duct tape. Lots and lots of duct tape.”

“And yet,” Roqron replied, a ghost of a smile playing on the corners of his mouth, “I suspect your ‘old-fashioned’ methods might surprise us. There’s an... elegance to their simplicity.”