Chapter 17

Ellax

" W here were you?"

As soon as the words left my lips, I wished to recall them. I had no desire for this mere human to know that I'd been upset over her fleeing my chambers, to the point of pacing while I awaited her return. Still, for all my bravado, when I saw her standing outside the door, the question fled my lips and I could not call it back.

She blinked at me, her blue eyes widening gently in astonishment.

"Why, Overlord," she said, in a tone that I could not quite decipher, "I didn't know you cared."

"I do not care," I growled, stepping aside to allow her inside. "Except I do not wish my wife to be running about an unknown space ship unattended."

She rolled her eyes as she pressed past me into the room. "Right. I'm sure that's a deep concern of yours."

She walked into the middle of my room, stopped, and spun to face me. "We need to get a few things straight," she said, folding her arms across her chest. The action pulled at her shirt, drawing it tightly over her breasts. I should not have noticed. I did. For a split second, I forgot what she had said.

"I've reached a decision," she announced, which shattered the lust creeping over my vision and drew my focus from her body to her words.

"Oh? A decision?" I kept my tone purposefully calm. "This will be interesting, female." Moving past her, I seated myself in the closest chair, crossing one knee over the other. Steepling my fingers, I gazed up at her. "Let us hear this decision."

She was not quavering, nor did she show any signs of retreat. Her face was hard. Her expression icy.

"You can sit there and play highhanded Overlord all you want," the human woman now said. "You can congratulate yourself that you're superior to me, to my race, to my kind. That's fine, if it makes you feel better about yourself."

I clenched my jaws to hide my irritation at her haughty tone. I was not used to being spoken to in this manner. Particularly by a human!

"However," she proceeded, "we're in the same boat now. We're stuck together, unless your Council relents, and I kinda doubt they will. You need me as much as I need you."

I felt my eyebrows raise.

"What sort of talk is that?" I chuckled. "I do not need you. You are a mere human female—"

"To whom you happen to be married," she broke in sharply, stepping closer. Her arms were folded, her expression firm. "Not only married, but all of your superiors—not mine, yours —seem to think it's a great idea for us to have a baby. I don't think we can get out of this. It means we need to find a way to make this predicament work for both of us."

I fought to keep my face from creasing in a sneer. "It works for you because you will be married to me, female. What more could you possibly hope to obtain?"

"For one thing, I have a name and it's not female ," she snapped. "If we're married, we're going to lay down some ground rules. You stop calling me insulting names or belittling terms. Stop talking down to me. I'm your wife now, like it or not, which puts us on an even par."

"Even?" I chuckled. "You mean equal. We will never be equal, fe—"

"Lorelai," she broke in. "If you call me female again, I swear I'll never go to bed with you. Then you'll never get your baby, but you'll still be stuck married to me."

Straightening my spine, I glanced up from beneath my brows, not even bothering to hide my anger. "Are you threatening me?"

"I'll do what I have to in order to survive," she countered cooly. "Not merely to survive, but to gain some respect. I've fought so hard to come back from a life where I was worn down, humiliated, and trampled on. I'm not going back to that. Obviously, I didn't foresee this particular turn of events, yet I intend to use this plot twist to my advantage."

Rather than remind her again of the advantage of being married to me, I held my peace, curious to see where she was headed.

"Here's what I propose," she said, her blue eyes piercing and her face firm. "Unless we get hit with a lucky lightning bolt, we're not getting out of this marriage. We made our bed, now we have to lie in it."

The mention of beds and lying in them caused undesired images of lying in bed with this woman to erupt. I shifted in my chair to distract myself.

"We're going to make a pact," she said. "A pregnancy pact. A bargain. An agreement. A compromise."

"Oh?" Those words, as a longtime diplomat, I understood.

She nodded, determined. "Yes. I give you the baby you want. The heir you need. I'll do my best to be a proper wife for your diplomatic needs. I do have some experience with this, although on a much smaller level," she admitted. "However, with training, I'm fairly confident I can learn to hold my own. It's not like you're marrying a goofy, giddy teenager. I'm thirty-nine. I'd like to think I've gained some maturity in life. I'd like to think I could be an asset to you. I'll be on my good behavior, and you can coach me along. Since Asterion customs are different from our customs on Earth, I'll doubtless need some advice."

I found myself nodding as she spoke. Aside from the fact that she was human, and utterly below my station, she was offering valid points. True, I tended to prefer younger bedmates, as many did who had the prestige to obtain them. Still, having a woman with maturity by my side as a newly appointed Lead Advisor did have merit. And she was beautiful. It would not be difficult to take her to bed.

If only she wasn't human.

Considering my battle with Caide over his human wife, the fate the stars had determined upon me was nearly unbelievable.

Or was this recompense for what I had done to my son?

"Also," she saying, drawing my attention to the present, "I can't swear that I can give you a child, of course, but I have had two sons. The reason we didn't have more was because I chose not to. My husband was never home to help me, and raising twins in a dystopian world was…" She blew out a breath. "Difficult, to say the least."

"On Asterion, you would have all the help you need, all the resources you could want," I assured her quietly. "There would be no difficulties on that score. I have mechas, maidservants, cooks, and can hire servants to care for the child."

She firmed her lips. "I figured," she said. "I don't intend to allow other people to raise our hypothetical child, but I will need help. Because—" She met my gaze with a surety, a conviction, that I somehow doubted boded well for me. "I don't intend to sit around and keep your house and be your arm candy for the next eighteen years. I've started a new career. It's been derailed by our drunken stupidity, but that doesn't mean it has to be over. I fully expect you to help me out with that."

Uneasy with the direction our conversation was headed, I edged about in my seat, sitting up even straighter.

"How am I to do that?" I demanded.

She shrugged. "I don't know. That's your problem. You figure it out. You'll have time. I may not work while I'm pregnant, depending on how sick I get. I was pretty miserable with the twins. Then I'll need a few months after the baby is born before I'm ready to work. That gives you the chance to find a suitable position for me."

"What sort of position?" I blustered, nearly throwing my hands in the air. "Wives of Asterion nobles do not work outside the home. You'll be kept busy with our offspring, with formal events, with any charitable work you may wish to handle—as a matter of fact, you could even set up a charity for your home planet. The stars know Earth could use a benefactor."

She raised an eyebrow. "That's all well and good, but that won't serve me very well when we get divorced later, now, will it?"

My body strained into stillness, my nerves so taught I feared they might snap.

"Get divorced?"