Chapter One
Falkor entered the parlor and flopped into Jaryk’s favorite chair like he belonged. “What’s new?” he asked with exaggerated casualness.
“You heard.” Jaryk raked his hands through his thick blue hair.
“Secrets are rare in the palace of Kaldor.” Falkor grinned like an annoying idiot.
To be fair, his younger brother wasn’t an idiot. He’d been gifted with crafty intelligence, but annoying? He was every bit of that. “Did you come to rub it in, or do you have a reason for being here?”
“I’m from the government. I’m here to help.”
“Ha. Ha.”
“Seriously. I have a solution to your dilemma.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
Their Majesties King Rullok and Queen Myka had spoken. When their father and mother put their royal feet down, there was no circumventing the edict. Nobody could help him, least of all his younger brother. Any scheme Falkor would come up with would not be a good one. Scandal dogged him like a shadow. His shenanigans had caused him more trouble than they’d ever gotten him out of.
Jaryk had not been granted the same indulgence. He and his brother were only two years apart in age, but the difference in their fates was vast. Jaryk’s future had been chiseled into the coronation stone at the moment of birth over thirty-four years ago. His Royal Highness Crown Prince, heir to the throne of Kaldor, could not engage in frivolous pursuits. He had to be cautious, dutiful, discreet.
Falkor, the royal spare, could do as he pleased—and did. “You’re not even going to hear me out?”
“I’m doomed. You can’t save me,” he said glumly.
“Well, not with that fatalistic attitude! You’re going to roll over and marry Princess Alia?” Falkor wrinkled his nose and shuddered.
“Why do you do that? It’s disrespectful. Alia would be a fine wife.”For someone else. “I met her twice. She’s quiet, pleasant, well-spoken.”
“Booorrring.” His brother faked a snore. “Besides, she’s not the one you want.” He gave him a sideways look.
“Charday is not a possibility.” It hurt to even speak her name. He’d held out until the end, hoping against hope his parents would relent and grant their permission, if not their blessing, for them to marry. But Charday had not passed the royal parental vetting.
“She is unbefitting a crown prince. You are the future king! Your wife shall be queen,” their father had railed. Now, Jaryk approached his thirty-fifth birth year, the marriage deadline required by a centuries’ old royal decree.
“My duty is to the kingdom. I must marry a pedigreed woman and produce an heir,” he said.
“Duty-smooty. Mother and Father married for love.”
“They were fortunate enough tofindlove with each other. Their marriage was arranged.”
“So, when’s the unhappy occasion?”
“The wedding date hasn’t been set yet, but the engagement will be announced next month at the royal ball.”
“Then you don’t have any time to waste. We need to get you signed up immediately.”
He was almost afraid to ask. “Signed up for what?”
“Cosmic Mates.”
“What thehekkelis Cosmic Mates?”
“It’s an interplanetary matchmaking service. It pairs Earth women with men needing wives. You can marry a human.”
“You’ve lost your mind. That’s the stupidest idea you’ve ever had. There are so many flaws in that scheme, I can’t begin to count them.”
Falkor remained unfazed. “Hear me out.”
