Chapter Two #2
This new one was called Veranon, but native speakers added a few clicks and growling sounds I couldn’t pronounce.
Everyone knew its priests wielded a huge amount of power as its popularity grew, and though the young Tygerian men loved war and fighting, they also craved power.
To someone not a nobleman, but from a wealthy family, the priesthood was considered the only road to influence and dominance.
The head priest, a man named Evoq, was able, or so he claimed, to heal minds and spirits.
He was coming here to offer me his services at the king’s request. I wanted no part of him, but I didn’t think I could refuse.
Werros had been good to me, for Davos’s sake, and I had to consider the baby.
The servants told me my visitors had arrived and helped me get dressed.
I wore the emerald robes that denoted Davos’s rank as Battle Commander or Dyson.
They even brushed my hair, which had grown out longer than I liked, until it shone.
They tied it back at my insistence with a leather-like cord.
I looked in the mirror on the wall before I left and thought I looked like one of the legendary monsters in the legends on Earth—one of those ancient vampires, with my dead-white skin, and red, staring eyes.
Especially all the faint purple shadows underneath them.
But I didn’t care how I looked. And though I didn’t want to see anyone, I knew I had no choice.
The king himself came to escort me to one of the conference rooms.
“Don’t be frightened of our visitors, Blake. They only want to help. If you allow them to, they can remove some of the pain.”
“By quoting me verses from their Bible?” I asked, mentioning the Orlan, as they called it. “I know they mean well, but that’s not going to help me.”
“Be respectful and polite to the priests, Blake. I’m afraid I have to insist. Evoq is the high priest and is very much respected.”
“I will,” I replied, a little sullenly, perhaps. It was the first time he’d been stern with me, and to be honest, I actually didn’t mind it. It reminded me so much of Davos that my eyes filled with tears again.
“Evoq will no doubt offer you some drugs and potions to help in your healing. Accept graciously, please, and don’t be sarcastic with him. As you know, he has great influence over the people.”
“Am I so sarcastic? I asked him, and he smiled.
“It’s your greatest power.”
“But I still have your protection, don’t I?”
His eyes softened as he looked down at me. His arm went around my waist, and he said, softly, “You know you do.”
I sighed and leaned more heavily against him.
It’s hard to explain what I was doing. I could tell he was halfway in love with me, and I should have discouraged it.
But I remembered what my servant Talise had told me.
I needed a protector. Someone who would make sure my child was safe. That was all that mattered to me.
There would never be another love for me except for Davos. Never. Never.
We had bonded, as much as a human could bond with any Tygerian, and I would love him until I drew my last breath.
It was hard to describe how devastated I was to think I’d never see him again.
It made me want to die and hope I went to his heaven to see if he might be somehow waiting for me there.
If anyone could manage such a thing, it would be Davos.
Another reason I should be embracing this religion stuff, perhaps.
But for now, Davos was not an option, and until I met him again in the afterlife, he wouldn’t be.
I had learned enough about politics on this planet to know I needed a powerful Tygerian male to assist me in doing pretty much anything.
I knew Werros was very attracted to me, although after that one, quick glance in the mirror, I honestly couldn’t see why.
If I could use that attraction to benefit me, however, I would do whatever I had to do, within reason, because recently I had felt a tiny fluttering in my stomach that I knew must be the baby.
It was hard to explain how I felt about it.
It was like sadness had lodged inside me, and I’d piled loneliness and memories and love all around it, day after day, until one day I discovered a perfect pearl had grown there deep inside me.
The baby was that precious pearl that had lodged under my heart and was allowing me to carry it for a while. I was already in love with this baby.
But there was a problem with that. Davos had been the heir to the former king’s throne, so when they passed away at the same time, there had been a scramble for the Tygerian Council to figure out who the new king would be.
There were those who said the king died first, so Davos had been king when he was murdered.
If he’d had heirs—and no one knew about the baby I was carrying—the throne might have gone to his heir.
But as things stood, no one knew who the rightful king was.
Werros had been only a stand-in, but now he was seizing power and there was no one to stop him.
All the former king’s close relatives were dead, and only distant cousins remained.
That was why the old king had named his popular Dyson, Davos, as his heir in the first place.
Davos had a huge and loyal following in the army and there were those, if they found out that he’d had a son, and it was verified by a DNA test, who might push for my baby to become the rightful king and name a Regent until he was older.
That scared me because a Regent could conceivably take him away from me once he was born, and I’d never see him again, because they wouldn’t want him raised by a human.
They would freeze me out of his life. The Regent might be Werros, though, who had been kind to me so far.
But perhaps not. Other candidates would come forward if the news got out that I was expecting a baby, and it was Davos’s.
It wasn’t a great leap for me to figure out that it might be in my best interests to marry Werros, who could protect us both.
The idea was not anything I relished. I was still madly in love with Davos and always would be. But if I tried to get Werros to marry me—and I thought it might not be hard to do—then that might keep the baby safe.
Werros was young—Davos’s age—and very handsome, though no one compared to Davos, as far as I was concerned.
Still, he was unmarried, and his ministers were already urging him to find a consort.
Why not me? That could protect me and my baby.
I knew he was attracted to me. If I stayed on Tygeria with the child—and how could I ever leave my baby here alone and go back to Earth—then I would definitely need Werros and his influence.
But that was for someday in the future…not right away.
I couldn’t think that far ahead right now.
I was ambitious for my child though, and I wanted him to become king one day, because I knew that was what Davos would want.
I absolutely wanted him safe and protected.
And to belong to me. I probably wasn’t thinking straight, still practically overcome every day by grief and loss.
There were many days I still thought this grief would probably kill me.
But I couldn’t afford all that right now.
The war was still raging and Werros was also the supreme commander of the army.
He could go into battle at any time, because Tygerian kings were warrior kings.
I had to seek my own status and power to protect my child from those who would take his place, and marrying Werros was the only way I knew to do it at the moment.
Those were some of the crazy thoughts running through my mind as we approached the room where I was to meet this Evoq, the highest-ranking priest of the Veranon religion.
As we walked in the door, I saw the priests standing there in a bunch, chatting to each other in a whispery tone with the little clicking sounds of the Tygerian language that made it so hard for foreigners like me to duplicate it.
With their black, swooping robes, and their pointy soft hats, they reminded me a little of a group of witches clustered together over a cauldron, like my grandmother had told me about in her reading of a play about Mac somebody.
It was an unfortunate comparison. Or perhaps I had read way too many stories when I was growing up on Earth.
“Your Majesty,” they all murmured as they turned to greet the king.
I could feel their hot, avidly curious gazes on me as well.
A handsome man of middle age, who was maybe six feet three or so and looked like he worked out a lot, stepped forward and bowed.
He even turned to me and gave me a slight nod.
“And this must be the late Dyson’s…paramour. ”
Paramour? What an odd, old-fashioned word. It sounded slightly dirty, and like something out of those ancient Victorian poems my grandmother used to read.
“If you mean love slave,” I said, “then you’re wrong. I was practically married to Davos. He was my mate.”
Before I could say more, Werros squeezed my arm in warning. He then responded, “This is General Davos’s nobyo. His consort in every way that counted. Please give him the proper respect that the title deserves, sir.”
Evoq seemed surprised as he gave me a long, assessing look. “His nobyo? I had no idea he had one. Is this why you needed me sire? To help heal his mate?”