Chapter 10

Ellax

" W ait. He did—we did. What? What're you saying? What?"

Apparently, the human female was having difficulty grasping the news.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, her face pale with shock. "I don't understand why we would ask him to marry us."

"I suppose," I replied carefully, brushing imaginary lint off my sleeve, "we'd imbibed too much lyven."

"We didn't even have all that much!" Lorelai protested. She sank weakly into the nearest chair.

"Apparently, we had sufficient," I disagreed mildly.

"How? How could we get that drunk, fall asleep, wake up, and what—drink more? Hatch some crazy idea to get married? And not remember any of it? How is that possible?"

Rather than try to explain the matter, particularly when there was no explanation, I reached for my phone, swiped the screen, tapped it a few times, and brought up a video recording.

"Here," I said. "Captain Osiris sent me this."

She leaned over to look. I knew what she'd see. Footage from the ship's security cameras, slightly grainy, of she and I walking down the corridor outside my room. We were smiling at one another. Laughing. Talking. At one point, we stopped, turned to each other, and I took in her my arms. I kissed her, smiling hugely. Afterward, we held hands, stumbling down the passageway and out of view of that particular camera.

The female's head snapped up. The realization had settled in. Fear creased her features. Fear of what this portended and how it would affect her.

"He told us no, right?"

Now it was my turn to be confused. "I beg your pardon?"

"I said, the captain told us no, right? He turned us down? I mean, clearly," she laughed, pointing at the phone, "he could see we were inebriated and in no shape to be making decisions on getting married. He turned us down, didn't he?"

I studied her as I slid the device back into my pocket, trying to determine why she would think a lowly space ship's captain would consider turning down any request from a Lead Advisor.

"No," I replied slowly, shaking my head. "He most certainly did not."

"He most certainly did not turn us down?"

"He did not."

"Then—" Her eyes rounded with horror. She bolted to her feet, staggered, and caught herself with a hand to the back of the chair. "You're saying we didn't merely ask him to marry us, but we are actually married?"

Her voice had risen to an unpleasant pitch. I felt myself frown before I smoothed my features back out.

"That is what I meant to infer from the onset."

To prove my point, I rolled up my sleeve, extending my arm to show her the mark on my skin from the wedding's binding ceremony. Since ship captains were occasionally asked to perform legal services, such as weddings, they were equipped with their own tool for the job.

"This is a marriage mark," I said, going on to briefly explain their use in Asterion wedding rites. "You can see here our new one, next to my old one from my first marriage."

The initial marriage mark had faded over the years, and the contrast between the two symbols—circles enclosing trees intertwined with stars and joined rings—was stark.

"If you check your own arm," I added, nodding towards her, "you'll find a matching pattern etched on your skin."

"I'll find a what? You can't be serious!" With a flurry of motion, she shoved up her sleeve to reveal a mark that was a twin to mine. When she saw it, her jaw opened even wider. She began rubbing at it briskly with her free hand, as if attempting to wipe it away. Of course, it neither smudged nor disappeared. Her eyes rounded with fear. "This is real, isn't it? It's real? It's real? "

"It is very real," I agreed grimly. All of my wishing the opposite would not make it unreal.

"How are you so damned calm about this?" my human guest exploded. She threw both hands in the air in a gesture of confusion. "You're telling me we got drunk, asked the ship's captain to marry us, he complied, we got tattooed, neither of us remember it, and—and that's it?"

"What else would you have me say?" I questioned.

"What would I—I don't know. What do you want to say? Do you want this? Do you want to be married to me?"

She'd stalked several spaces closer and stood six inches from me, her face pale and her eyes glittering. Her chest heaved. She was so emotional, I thought with a slight measure of distaste. Druea had never betrayed her emotions so forthrightly. It was not done among Asterion females. I wasn't certain I liked it. On the other hand, there was something to be said concerning the honesty of portraying one's emotions, I supposed.

"I do not," I finally replied. "It is folly indeed. I never intended to wed you. It is against all laws and decorum for an Asterion Elder to marry a human female. Which," I admitted, with disgust at myself, "the captain said he reminded me of last night, but I would not be dissuaded."

"Oh, you wouldn't, huh?" she growled. "Listen, your lordship, I don't care if you wouldn't be dissuaded last night. Apparently, we were both drunk off our asses last night. You don't want to be married to me, and I sure as hell don't want to be married to you. So, we have to find a way to fix this. And quick!"

She was not wrong, yet I dislike being addressed so sharply.

"Know your place, female," I snapped, stepping towards her. "Whether you are now legally my wife or no, you haven't the privilege of speaking to me in that fashion."

"Because I'm still a lowly human?" she sneered. "That's fine by me. You use your status and authority to get me out of this and back on my ship. You'll never have to hear me sass you again. Deal?"

"I don't make deals with humans," I objected coldly. "However, one thing I can promise you: this marriage will be ended. If not by us on this ship, then as soon as we arrive on my home planet. Even if we wished to uphold it—"

"Which we don't," she interjected.

"Even if we did, the Council of Elders would see to it that the marriage is annulled. Under no circumstances can an Overlord of my position be married to a human. You may put your faith in that. It is that simple."