Traded to the Alien Regent: A SciFi Alien Romance Read online

  Still, Nayla’s words were likely typical of the kinds of prayers visitors made for a newly waking Regent. It made perfect sense when you really thought about it.

  All three of the ancient rulers had their own space in the Great Hall. The Warrior Queen was even reputed to have her own war room, the one area of the Great Hall of Awakening we could visit only with an appointed military escort.

  Naturally, Nayla had made advance arrangements for their visit. Therefore, a warrior was waiting when we approached. He towered over us, had deep green skin and a massive wingspan. His huge black eyes roamed over our bodies like he’s assessing our threat level. It felt like he was doing his job rather than planning how to hurt us like the jerk did earlier. This man is polite and professional.

  When they entered the war room Grace’s mouth dropped open. Inside was housed a rare and ancient weapon collection the likes of which would have been unimaginable on Earth. Nayla stated proudly, “Beings come from all over the galaxy to marvel at the assortment of weapons displayed in this room. Students of history are drawn to the Great Hall to study the ancient weapons. Even modern-day munitions experts come, hoping to glean knowledge of our current weapons.”

  Grace glanced over her shoulder to catch Nayla’s eye. “I’m guessing that’s why we aren’t allowed to touch any of the weapons.”

  Nayla dipped her head respectfully. “Yes. Examining the weapons is forbidden. It is also quite dangerous for those unfamiliar with their operation. Do you have war rooms on Earth?”

  Spinning around to take in the full assortment of weapons, Grace replied breathlessly, “Nothing like this. Humans use their war room for planning battle tactics, not displaying weapons.”

  Gesturing towards the door, Nayla enticed us with the next hoard of treasures. “The Great Saban founded a huge library. Most of the great works of Davarian literature are held within its hallowed halls. His collection includes the volumes of philosophical works written by Bradon the Wise as well as a set of works written by the Warrior Queen on various aspects of fighting. It is said the rudiments of the Davarian language evolved through a series of decades. The evolution of our language is clearly evidenced through a series of the ancient manuscripts.”

  Nayla had good reason to be proud of her Davarian heritage. They wandered from one area to the next. There were hundreds of exhibits, each more fascinating than the last. They’d visited several museums on Earth as children, but nothing came close to the sheer splendor and opulence of the Great Hall of Awakening.

  3 Bradon the Wise

  Grace

  They finally arrived at the display Grace most wanted to see, the room that housed the body of Bradon the Great, his stasis unit rather. They sat quietly in back of the temple-like room. A priest recited the story of Bradon the Wise. Even though his skin was wrinkled and withered, the older priest’s kind face reminded Grace of her grandfather. He passed away long before they left Earth. The chip embedded in her right ear translated his words, but her left ear could hear his lilting Davarian accent. The language was beautiful in a way.

  “Once during our ancient past, the Davarian people were not united. We were angry, and primitive in our thinking. Certain segments of our population sought to force their spiritual beliefs upon others. Our thought was if they would just pray, the gods would smile on them, and the believing would follow. Thousands of fierce, brave Davarian warriors gave their lives, for many generations, in a vain attempt to force the others to our spiritual teachings.

  “Thanks be to the gods, Bradon the Wise ascended to the Davarian throne at a young age. He had a good soul, as well as the wisdom our people needed to guide us from the darkness into the light. At the tender age of fourteen solars, he was still open to the will of the gods, in ways that many adults were not.

  “Upon ascending to the throne, he immediately called all the Davarian warlords together. He instructed them to cease their never-ending war with each other. He insisted the gods frowned on those who worshiped out of obligation, but frowned more on those who forced such an obligation. He taught us that devotion to the gods should come from within, and anything less was unacceptable. Bradon the Wise asked that our people set aside their hostility, purify their souls, and make peace with their brothers and sisters, before quarreling over our differences cost every last Davarian warrior his life.

  “Our Regent’s words shook the warlords from their own mindless quest for war. From the mouth of a babe came such wisdom that none could refuse Lord Bradon’s request. Within the space of one cycle every Davarian warrior had cast aside his weapon, extending the hand of peace in its place. Their enemies were shocked. Their first reaction was to suspect some type of deception. They continued to slay their enemies by the hundreds. When still no resistance or retaliation took place, they were forced to accept the offer of peace was earnest and our desire for peace lasting.

  “Bradon the Wise invited representatives from all the great houses to his fortress for treaty negotiations. Little did we know, both sides were desperate for the hostilities to end. The great lords suggested Lord Bradon be appointed Regent.”

  Glancing around the room, he continued with a smile. “Bradon agreed to accept the appointment only if the great houses chose ninety-nine more regents to rule at his side. They became known as the Great Council of Regents and their rule brought forth the modern age. The three remaining regents have ruled in turns of twenty years each. They move through time, with one ruling while the other two sleep. Their wise and gentle guidance has been the key to everlasting peace on our world for over five thousand years.”

  What a fabulous tale! Being familiar with her own bloodline, Grace was all too aware of how such stories, though true, are tough for a hero to live up to. Legends are often used by those in power, because they inspire loyalty and encourage people to strive for higher morals. In such cases, a person can easily be trapped by their own good deeds into a life they never intended. It was the main reason Grace generally liked to keep her deeds, good and otherwise, to herself.

  Nayla quietly led them to the front of the cavernous room. Built into the wall were three alcoves at equal distances from one another. They each contain a hibernation pod. Excitement twisted in her gut when Grace observed that one is empty and two are filled. It seemed like proof their legends are true.

  They approached the empty one first, a tall glass cylinder with tubes and glowing filament hanging down inside. What appeared to be an alien coat of arms was painted onto the front. Though she couldn’t read their language yet, it seemed obvious it was for the Warrior Queen. She was the only Regent awake just then, and her symbol was two crossed swords. They’re the long, fierce-looking swords with hooks on the end and serrated blades. The weapons were utterly wicked.

  Nayla’s been talking, but Grace hasn’t been listening. Instead she moved closer and inspected it from every angle. Keeping her hands to herself was a real challenge. Dakota’s hand landed on her shoulder and Gracie allowed her sister to pull her back. “You’ve got it bad for advanced tech.”

  She waggled her eyebrows, because her sister definitely had her number.

  The next alcove held a handsome Davarian male inside the second stasis unit. His green skin covered a muscular frame, and his long, inky-black hair spilled over his shoulders and floated around his body in the gently glowing tinted liquid. Again, Nayla was telling us all about the Great Saban, a famous politician and founder of the Great Library.

  Grace’s eyes snapped up to Nayla’s the moment she realized he’s totally naked. His penis was clearly visible since the liquid left nothing to the imagination. She just kept talking about his many accomplishments, which gave the impression nudity was not frowned upon by the Davarians.

  This man had tubes discreetly coming out of small metal disks along his spinal ridge. His eyes were closed, and he appeared to be resting comfortably, though there are tiny bursts of light rippling through the gel. It looks like small bursts of electricity. Grace immediately realized they wer
e somehow related to activating his long-dormant muscles.

  A deep female voice resonated through the quiet of the room. “You may touch the encasement if you like. It was designed to stand up to the reverent caresses of our people. Trust me, we get used to it.” The accent was Davarian.

  Glancing behind them, they saw the Warrior Queen approaching with a heavily armed protector on each side. The rumors were true. The current Regent was a warrior, and very beautiful. Though the Queen was reputed to be ancient, she appeared young and healthy. Her green skin was pale with shades of brown and purple. Grace liked that she’s a fellow curvy girl, with long dark hair hanging down to her waist. Though her gown was gorgeous, more like something one would expect to see on action hero rather than a queen. The half-dozen weapons carefully stashed upon her person gave her a dangerous vibe. Meeting a world leader was an awe-inspiring experience, but meeting one who was a fighter is especially gratifying.

  Grace couldn’t help but to be drawn to the woman. The Queen’s eyes rolled over their group, and there was a hint of approval in her expression. Grace took the initiative to step out and greet her. For some reason Nayla took a step backwards. Dakota, Mia, and Grace bent their knees in a brief curtsey, and move closer so they’re within speaking distance. “Greetings, Queen Belanna. It’s an honor to meet you in person.” Grace tried not to fangirl over her but couldn’t help herself. Without taking her eyes off the Queen, she continued, “Your Great Hall is most impressive. I am Grace Phelps.”

  A small smiled quirked up the Queen’s lips as she looks Grace over. “I know who you are. Lord Lod is a council member and recounted your heroic deed at our last meeting. I was among those impressed by your rather reckless plan.”

  Grace laughed. “You aren’t the first to notice that I was flying by the seat of my pants on that one.”

  The wingless Queen walked over to the hibernation unit, eyeing Grace keenly. Grace stepped closer. “Aren’t you brave? Most young people are cautious of being in my presence.”

  Frowning, Grace tried to figure out why young people would be standoffish with the Queen. The woman seemed nice enough. A short laugh escaped her lips when the reason finally hit her. “They’re wary of you because you’re a warrior. You’ve had to kill, and that makes people think you are dangerous.”

  The Queen nodded. “I am very dangerous, Earthling. Word has reached my ears that you and other females on your ship are warriors as well. I guess that I will have to stop thinking of myself as unique.”

  Grace immediately reassured her on that account. “We’re trained in combat, but aren’t born to it, like you. I’m not easily impressed by such things, but I can assure you, I have never seen your equal. There are none like you, among my people.”

  The woman’s smile broadened, and her head tipped forward in acknowledgement. “I noticed you admiring the Great Saban.” Caressing the unit almost lovingly, she seems reluctant to take her eyes off him. Our slumbering Regent is also impressive, is he not?”

  Grace gazed down at him again and tilted her head. “He’s certainly something special. However, I’m interested in seeing Bradon the Wise. All your females say he is the most handsome Davarian male on your world. I would see for myself if this is true.”

  The Queen asked indulgently, “How many years have you been traveling in your ship?”

  “A very long time. We were in our hibernation pods for almost fifty solar revolutions.” That’s what the Davarians called years. “Being on your home world is the most exciting thing that’s happened to our crew in forever.”

  “I do hope you will join us as well for the Awakening Day celebration. Bring your crew and enjoy our celebration.”

  “I’d love to meet Bradon in person. Thank you so much for the invitation.” Grace felt herself gushing, but she couldn’t help it. The Queen was so friendly and personable.

  She spun on her heel, speaking over her shoulder. “If you will follow me, I will show you Bradon the Wise.”

  They followed her over to another alcove. This one was surrounded by people. Most of them were praying. Some were kneeling, with small laser lights glowing in their hands. There were little prickly lights floating around like confetti, giving the area an ethereal glow. The people made way for their Queen and her party.

  As the throng of people stepped back, Grace couldn’t help but gasp out loud. Before she could even think to censor her thoughts, words came spilling out. “Well, no wonder everyone’s so complimentary about him. He’s absolutely gorgeous.”

  Her words came out all breathy and strange. The Regent in the cylinder was indeed stunning. He was larger than the male in the other cylinder. His skin seemed somehow more durable and his short dark hair was combed into a perpetual style befitting a Regent. He had tight muscles rippling down his torso, giving him a blatantly masculine look. Grace chewed her bottom lip as her sisters whispered back and forth behind her back. It was nearly impossible to keep her eyes from skimming over every square inch of his body, including his exposed manhood. He was something to behold, that much is for sure. Her face turned pink, and it was an embarrassing reaction to display in front of so many strangers.

  The Queen asked, “So what do you think of our favorite Regent?”

  Glancing up at the Queen, Grace sucked in a quick breath. “Please tell me he’s socially awkward or at least preoccupied with his own beauty. No one who looks that good should have a charming personality as well.”

  The Queen’s throaty laugh drowned out the gasps from Bradon’s many admirers. “I’m afraid not, youngling. He is just as attractive on the inside as he is on the outside.”

  Grace deadpans back, “Some guys get all the luck. You should really think about putting some clothing on him. Imagine how many people visit here every year. Thousands must have impure thoughts about him.” Did that sound prudish, protective or possessive, Grace asked herself.

  Queen Belanna waved her hand in the air as a gesture of dismissal. “I’m certain, not many of our people think of us that way.”

  “I can’t be the only person in this room thinking naughty thoughts.” Feeling impetuous, Grace wagged her eyebrows. “Let’s just see.” Turning to the assembled crowd, she called playfully, “Everyone who’s had a sexy thought about an ancient today, raise your hand.”

  No one moved. Everyone’s eyes were huge, mortified.

  Grace cajoled, “Oh come on, you little fibbers. Be honest.”

  An older female laughed and raised her hand. Several other people snickered as well. Before long, almost everyone had their hand in the air. Even the Queen’s two protectors were eyeing her. They didn’t need to raise their hands for everyone to know what they were thinking.

  The Queen’s eyes got big, and she burst out laughing. “Little Earthling, you are like breathing larcog.”

  Grace knew larcog was a type of herb similar to mint. The woman was saying she was like a breath of fresh air. It was intended as a compliment.

  Grace mused out loud, “I’m really glad I met you. Too bad you have to sleep so soon. I would like to have gotten to know you better.”

  “I will sleep for the next forty cycles…through the reign of Bradon and then Saban. I can only wake before then, if there is a great upheaval on my world. During such times, my people wake all three of us ancients at the same time. My favorite times are when the Great Saban and I are awake together. Our interval together is always too brief for my liking. Such planetary upheaval is a rare occurrence.”

  Grace got a mischievous glint in her eye as she queried. “Tell me more about what constitutes an upheaval, and I will see what I can do.”

  The Queen laughed again. “Honestly human, you are more fun than I should be allowed, in the twilight of my reign. Come, you may call me Belanna. We will dine, and you can tell me more of your kind. I would hear, with my own ears, the story of your family’s travel to our world.”

  4 Bradon the Asshat

  Grace

  A political alliance between the humans an
d Queen Belanna had been cemented before Grace had been allowed to visit Davaria Prime. Though she never thought of herself as the ship’s goodwill ambassador, Grace was happy to spend time with the Queen. Nayla took Dakota and Mia to refresh themselves but Grace hung tough with the Queen for the better part of the day. There was too much to see and do to lounge in luxury.

  The delegation from Eden Twelve arrived on time and immaculately groomed for the Awakening Day celebration. They all wore crisp black uniforms. Grace liked their pulled-together presentation. Rick rushed up to her with his new wife in tow. Tossing her the uniform, he teased, “I hear we gotta be real humble around you cause you’re practically royalty now.”

  Catching the neatly folded uniform, she shot back, “Don’t be a turd blossom, Rick. You know I’ll never change, no matter who I keep company with.” Quickly ducking into a restroom, Grace donned the clean uniform Rick brought for her. After stepping back out of the tiny room, she held out both hands. “See, I’m the same as I’ve ever been.”

  “That’s funny, you used to be quietly getting into trouble. Now, with everyone watching, your shenanigans ain’t gonna go unnoticed.”

  Grace elbowed her longtime friend in the ribs. “That’s not funny. It’s damn Greek tragedy. Now, come on, the Warrior Queen set up sparring contests.”

  “You knock yourself out.” Exchanging a loving look with his wife, he mumbled. “I promised my Ima Jean a nice evening out and that’s exactly what I’m gonna deliver.” His pretty little wife clung to his arm, looking at him like he hung the moon. She perked up. “We’re going to eat fancy alien food, dance, and take in all the sights, right Rick?” He nodded indulgently. “We sure are, baby.” Turning to Grace, he made the go away gesture. “Now, amscray, wench. You’re blocking our view.” Crap, they were cute as hell together. Laughing, Grace bid them good evening and left them to it.