J’tet! That was exactly what I’d been intending to do. I couldn’t let her dissuade me that easily. Should I try to temper my desire, temper my plans? Should I state it softly, sweetly, smoothly, try to persuade her?
She was angry and growing angrier. More words were spilling from her mouth. A steady stream of fury and righteous indignation. She’d even begun pacing my office. I had no time to think of any sweet way to state my intentions. Instead, I allowed them to burst forth. Speaking over, actually interrupting her, I said, “Yes, I did wish to offer to take your name off the list, but I need your help in return. I wanted to make a bargain with you. A marriage bargain.”
She halted mid-stride, spinning to face me, her mouth falling open.
“Wh—what?”
Beneath her jacket, her chest heaved—which I tried not to notice. Damn. It was hard not to notice, as full-figured as she was.
“What did you say?” She took a step closer. “You’re kidding me, right? You really did bring this up because you wanted to…wanted to…” Her words trailed off. She swept the loose hair from her face and straightened her glasses, sharp movements of surprise and frustration. “You mean—you really mean—you, me…marriage? Getting married? A marriage bargain?”
“It isn’t as terrible as it sounds,” I answered carefully. I tried to smile, as if in jest. She didn’t return it. She was far from amused. “I need your help every bit as much as you need mine, I think.”
“How—how could you need my help?” She seemed as dumbstruck by this notion as by the rest. “Unless they’ve got you matched up with some chick you don’t like, and this is your way of getting out of it.” Now she offered me a piercing frown. “Is that it? I mean, I guess I’m flattered you’d rather have me instead, but if you’re only using me to…”
“No,” I cut in. “No, we—we Asterions—are not matched with any human. It is my understanding that we choose for ourselves.”
“Of course, you do,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “It’s we simple human cows who aren’t given a choice.”
“You do have a choice,” I stated firmly. Firmly enough that her chin came up, and her gaze met mine warily. “When I said I needed your help, I meant it,” I repeated. “My father wishes me to return to Asterion and be trained for a role as an Asterion Elder. I do not wish to go. I have one way of escape—one way to remain here on Earth, and that is to marry a human female. Not merely take one as a breeder, but actually marry one.”
She stared at me suspiciously.
“Why? Why would marrying a human disqualify you from being an Asterion Elder? And what’s an Elder, anyway? Is that like…royalty? Are you royalty on your home planet?”
The suspicion changed to something closer to awe. Possibly tinged with fear. As if she wondered how much trouble she might face for refusing an Asterion ruler. I did not wish to give a false impression of my true status. More than that, I wanted to be honest with this female. From what little I’d seen of her, she seemed more impressed with honesty than titles and wealth. If I were to make this bargain work—if we were to seal a bargain at all, I had to tell her the entire truth.
“No,” I said soberly, “I am not royalty. Asterion has a circle of Elders who rule beneath our Sovereign—rather like the Congress your country used to have, who ruled beneath your President,” I explained, hearkening back to her country’s system of government before the Final War. “Only, on my home planet, the Elders rule by bloodline, not through being elected. My father is an Elder.”
“Then you are sort of like royalty,” she stated.
“No. I am not. I’m a bastard,” I informed her bluntly. “My father has never claimed me. I grew up on the fringes of Asterion society and the fringes of my father’s family. Never wanted. Never welcomed, but never fully shunned, either, in case the worst should happen. Which, alas, seems to be happening.”
“And…what’s the worst? What’s happening?”
Her voice had softened, as had her gaze. She was regarding me now with almost…pity. I shrugged my shoulders, uncomfortable. I didn’t need her pity. I had carved a new life for myself. My cold, lonely upbringing didn’t matter. I wasn’t asking her to heal my inner wounds, simply to help me keep the here place that I had created for myself.
“My older brother, my legitimate brother—” I couldn’t quite keep the bitterness from that word— “was critically injured in an accident and is likely to succumb to his injuries. I received notification from my father that he wishes me to return home. A ship leaves the Citadel within a week, and he wants me on it. If my brother dies, I need to be there so he can formally accept me as his son and name me his heir and the next Elder of his bloodline.”
“And you don’t want that.”
She said it like a statement, not a question.
I blew out a breath of air and swiveled to look out the window. Beyond was the Citadel. Energetic in its building and rebuilding, full of endless opportunities for those like me who were willing to work hard. Beyond the galaxy, beyond the stars, was Asterion, and a stifled life of robes and marble halls, endless meetings with folk I disliked about subjects that didn’t interest me, and a pretentiousness I could never feign. Playacting that I was the dutiful son, forgiving and stepping up for my father when he had never stepped up for me.
I was neither that forgiving, nor that dutiful, never mind my father’s terrible losses.
“No,” I answered Delle. “I do not want that.”
“So…how does marrying me help keep you out of it, then?”
I drew a breath, pensive. She might not like this part, but again, she deserved to know the truth.
“It keeps me out of it, because Asterion Elders are not allowed to pollute their bloodlines.”
“Excuse me?” Turning, I saw the flush of anger on her face. “Pollute their bloodlines! Are you saying…?”
“Yes,” I broke in. “That’s precisely what I’m saying. They are allowed to wed only pure-blooded Asterion females. Taking mistresses—that is acceptable. But marriage is another thing entirely.”
