The Talamute Prince
Chapter 15

Breakfast passes quickly. The ceremony is speeding toward me. The seamstress helps me get dressed and fixed up. My hair looks strange. The black is left straight, and all the blue is curled. It does make both colors stand out, but I’m not sure I like it.

Patrick comes as the lunch trays are brought in. He’s dressed in a gold suit, with metals on his chest and some fancy tassels falling from his shoulders. A bright red rope runs from right to left, hanging over his shoulder. It ends at his left hip, with a sword attached at his waist. I can’t help but cringe. He looks funny.

“Well, looks like they destroyed you. She looks like a goddess, and you look like, well, a golden peacock,” Melena says in a tease, and he shoots her an evil glare. She smiles, knowing he doesn’t like her boldness. I wish I knew what that relationship was like. Sadly, my parents couldn’t have any more kids. Melena goes onto the balcony to give us privacy, not that I truly care about being alone with Patrick.

“You look beautiful,” he says.

I look at the floor. My feet are bare. I haven’t put on the golden shoes that they left for me. Despite their being heels and the maids taking the time to teach me to walk halfway decently in them, that doesn’t change how uncomfortable they are. With the size of the heel, I’ll be as tall as Patrick.

“I look different, completely different.” My voice trails off. I pause, regaining my thoughts, then try to compliment his tacky outfit to the best of my lying abilities. “You look different as well.”

He laughs and motions for me to sit with him. I find myself imagining the dark-haired Talamute once again. How can I still be so intrigued by him after what he’s done? I mean he really didn’t do anything other than watch me. So he really hasn’t done anything. The dream has me twisting inside my own head.

We eat our lunch in an awkward silence. I look up occasionally, catching Patrick’s eye. He smiles each time. After the intrusion of the unwelcome man, I allowed Patrick to show affection, and I returned some of it. In truth though, most of the time, when true passion is involved, it isn’t because of Patrick but rather because of my mind finding its way to the Talamute.

“Why are you so quiet?” Patrick asks.

I look up, caught off guard. My mind is focused on the way the muscles of the Talamute’s chest and stomach looked as he stood in my window, arms crossed, with that look on his face. “I don’t want to say.”

Patrick gives me a raised eyebrow. Can he tell my mind isn’t where it should be? I can’t let him know the truth.

“I thought we said we’d be honest with each other?” he responds.

“I said I wouldn’t lie to you about whether I was falling in love with you again. I did not say I’d let you into every private thought I have.” I’m not lying, just omitting certain details.

Patrick grits his teeth, taking a deep breath. My response was not what he wanted to hear. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“If you can’t learn to trust me again,” he says, “how can we build love back without trust and honesty?”

I won’t give him everything, but I’ll give him something so that he’ll drop it. “I can’t stop thinking about the man who was here. At any time, he could have shot an arrow and disappeared without me ever knowing he was here. But he made it a point to reveal himself.”

Patrick wipes his mouth and looks at me. I can’t stand his smirk. “He wouldn’t have killed you. We both know that’s impossible. He was just trying to startle you, that’s all. It’s a mind game in order to disrupt our ceremony.”

The arrogance of some men is impossible to overlook. I don’t know how, but I have a feeling the Talamute appearing at my balcony has nothing to do with Patrick whatsoever. He’s still speaking, although I stopped listening to how it all boils down to him, in his own mind at least.

“Do you think they know what I am?” I ask. “I didn’t even realize I was on fire until you said something. The guy could have seen it.”

This question catches his attention. Patrick looks at me with a somewhat thoughtful glance, as though he’s stuck in his own mind.

“This is something I’ll have to discuss with my council. I don’t see how unless there’s a spy in our midst.”

I turn toward the curtains. It is the first time they’re not blowing. The aroma of the flowers still fills my room, almost overpowering the smell of lunch.

“Do you think they’re planning something for your coronation?” I ask.

It would make sense if they were here waiting for the perfect moment to strike. I see the Talamute standing there, smiling at me, his eyes like two deep pools soaked in mystery. Did he see the small demonstration of power? Is there a greater plan to get to Patrick?

“Are you worried about me?” He lifts his eyebrows and smiles.

“Perhaps. After all, if something happens, I’ll be stuck as the queen of a people I have learned little about. Of course, I could run away to an isolated planet as I intended to before I married you,” I say jokingly.

“I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. Besides, this isn’t the first time we’ve had issues with them. In fact, they’ve tried to sabotage our cities since we moved to this planet.”

“Why not just stay in space? Why come to a planet?”

It’s a simple enough question, but his voice gets stern in his response. “We exhaust our oxygen supplies quickly with our high level of population. Our synthesizers are constantly being improved, but never quite up to the task.”

Perhaps the Raspites are not as advanced as they should be.

“Surely having some plant life in your city would aid in the production of breathable air. It’s why plants exist. Or do you revel in hovering over dangerous people?” I’m confused by his grinning from ear to ear as though I made a joke.

“Our travels in space can be traced by the ionized trails these large islands leave behind. We become easier targets. Besides, we’re safe here for the most part. This planet was considered inhospitable to the Commerce who tried to settle the ground and were killed off by the savage race that live there.” He seems determined to paint a horrific picture of the Talamute.

“How do you know that?”

“We’ve hacked their databases more than once to get information on them.”

“Which is how you found out about me.” My mouth is straight, my eyes wide, and my heart pounding as I wait for an honest word to leave his lips, but he ignores me. Perhaps because I already know the truth.

“The Commerce won’t return to this planet. Therefore, we can hide from them in their own system without being wiped out. We float so there aren’t too many issues with the beasts or the people below. One will find a way up here from time to time. Eventually, we capture them and either kill them or bargain with them to stay away in order for them to be released.” Patrick puts his last bite into his mouth.

I haven’t touched my tray. “You bargain with savages? Must be highly intelligent savages. They’ve demonstrated such to me in the last few days.”

He squints at me.

“They had peace under Father, so why now?” Melena comes in, standing by the curtains. She has heard most of our conversation.

“Perhaps they heard of my taking the throne and want to test the new king.”

We finish our meal, and he kisses me gently on the cheek when he’s ready to leave. “Don’t worry, my love. You’re safe here.”

I smile and watch him leave. I have such deep thoughts that I cannot openly express to anyone. I long for a dream of my father to release the thoughts from my mind.

“Melena.” I walk over to the curtains and hold them aside. “What do you know of the Talamutes?” I promised not to go near the edges, and with the guards standing around them, that hasn’t been an option.

Melena looks at me funny. “They are violent, is all I know. One tried to kill my father once, but a guard jumped in the way. They caught the Talamute and executed him, then dropped his body over the edge to serve as a warning. It’s been a really long time since that day, and as far as I know, they haven’t really attempted it again.”

I look down, to the right, at the yellow flowers that have been placed here. They are from my homeland, of course, like most of the other plants, but it’s the bright blue and orange flower in the center of them that catches my eye. It rests on top of the others in that garden box and is very beautiful. It has a bright orange stamen in the center of what seems like thirty or more thin, delicate purple-shaded pedals. I have never seen anything like it.

“What is this?” I bend as best as I can in this dress to pick it up.

Melena turns to me instead of surveilling the area. She takes the flower and smells it. She then hands it back. “I don’t know much about flowers. I’m not sure. Aren’t they all supposed to be from your home?”

I take in its fragrance. It’s the aroma that almost smothered the smell of our lunch. It’s a pleasant scent to match its beautiful design.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” I ask rhetorically. I carry it inside to my vanity and, ever so gently, press it into the top of my hair. Just the color my outfit needed to make me less nervous about the events fixing to take place. It’s almost a perfect match to the blue of my hair.

“I don’t think it goes with your outfit; it isn’t customary for real flowers to be in the throne room,” Melena says.

“From what I see, it isn’t customary for any life other than your people in the city.” There’s a harshness to my tone I didn’t expect to come out. Other than my garden hidden up here away from everyone else, there’s no other plant life that I’ve seen.

“Only in the greenhouse section on island four. Decorative vegetation is pointless to our culture.” She seems unaffected by the idea of it.

“If I am not allowed to have a small piece of myself in all of this, I would rather stay in my room.” I try not to sound angry even though I’m upset. I’m being forced to do things according to everyone else’s customs. I’m trapped by an invisible wall that’s impassible at every angle.

“I like it, but I’m sure you’ll get an earful from my mother. Patrick as well.” She shrugs.

Am I doing this on purpose to see how Patrick will handle it? Testing his temper might not be the best idea, but to me, there is no better judge of civilized society than the ability to control one’s temper. My defense reactions don’t count. Even as a small child, I was trained to control my temper under any circumstance. If I had lost my temper, I wouldn’t be in this situation.

Instead, I’d be free.

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