Lois
The invite to the palace is for dinner in three days’ time.
Az says that I might not need to wait that long to bump into Senator Glex, as he might be at the Capital’s drakball arena tomorrow.
Now that word has got out that the whole Northern Principality team is down here at the Capital, they’ve been invited to play a friendly warm-up game before the big one between them both in a few weeks’ time.
“Glex has invested a lot of money into the Capital’s team,” Thax explains as he stands beside Zek, helping to polish the silverware.
I say ‘helping’, but I’m not sure Zek sees it that way, as he seems to be picking up every piece of cutlery that Thax is done with to go hold it up for inspection and go over it again.
“I would be surprised if he is not at the arena tomorrow, analyzing our game, and how to get the better of us,” Thax continues, completely unaware of the disgruntled staff male beside him.
“Investors always like to think they know more about the game than the professionals.”
The other team members have gone to rest after their journey. Varrex briefly came back out of his room to give Az a singular grunted nod on his way to fetch some water for himself. On his way back, I was given a deep, respectful bow.
And that’s apparently how these two deal with issues.
“Are you sure he’s gonna be okay?” I ask Az as I get ready to leave the apartment.
Az folds his arms across his chest and leans his shoulder against the doorframe in an oddly attractive way. “Vex is always like this. Trust me, he’s fine.”
Twisting back around to face the vanity mirror, I try to wrangle my hair up away from my face and fix it into a high bun, praying that it looks half decent and not at all like I started building a bird’s nest and abandoned the project halfway through.
Flicking my eyes to the corner of the mirror, I can see Az’s reflection watching me intently.
I try not to blush and deflect by asking, “But he really didn’t like the thought of you and I-”
“You have to remember-” Az starts, pushing off from the doorframe, coming to stand directly behind me.
He crouches down on his haunches so that I can see his face in the mirror as he continues.
“-that Xavianns are not used to seeing things such as ‘a cuddle’ with their own eyes. The fact that you allow such touches would put a male like Varrex at ill ease simply because he is not used to it,” he says, softly stroking his knuckles down my bare arm, awaking a trickle of goosebumps as he goes.
“I… I don’t want to put anyone at ill ease,” I say, my voice raspy and unlike my own as I watch his knuckles glide up and down.
Az smiles at me and stands. “Come,” he says, holding out his hand.
“Pay no mind to people like Vex. The male walks around like he constantly has a drak horn lodged up his ass.” I place my hand on his palm and let him help me up when he leans down to say, “And now that I know what being allowed to touch you is like, don’t you dare think for a moment that I’ll give it up that easily. ”
* * *
Since I have half a day to kill before tomorrow’s training game – where I might finally get to meet Senator Glex – Az has decided to take me on a sightseeing tour of the Capital.
So far, I’ve seen a rushing river, towering monuments, impressive glasshouses that look like they house entire jungles, and buildings that seem to shimmer in the daylight like they’re lacquered in mother-of-pearl.
One of those buildings in particular looms over us as we zoom by in our city cruiser, the multicolored banners hanging outside catching my eye.
“What’s that place?”
Az ducks his head to look, careful not to get me with his horns. “That’s the Museum of Xaviann History,” he tells me, already pressing various buttons and pushing the appropriate levers to get the cruiser all parked up.
I remember going to history museums back home.
I hadn’t really appreciated them when I was a kid.
They were normally part of a school trip and attached to some kind of project I’d needed to complete.
Mom never really had time to take me, since she was always working multiple jobs to keep our heads above water.
But when I was a little older, I’d landed a job at a coffee place around the corner from the city museum.
The curator, an older lady called Diane, would come in with her layered skirts, dangly beaded earrings, and a fistful of leaflets on whatever exhibition she was showcasing that week.
But she couldn’t just set them down on the counter for our customers to take – oh no – Diane would insist on telling me and the other staff at least one history fact before she left.
Whether it be that European Aristocrats used to mistakenly think tomatoes were poisonous after eating them off lead-laden pewter plates, or that Vikings never actually wore those helmets with the horns; whenever she stopped by, I always learned something new.
I wonder what Diane would make of this place, I think, turning slowly in place as I stare up at the cavernous entry hall of the Xaviann museum.
The empty space seems to reach up to the heavens, and I can see multiple floors layered on top of one another, spiraling around the outer edge of the hall like a coiled spring.
Everything seems to be touched by gold in one way or another. Whether it’s the railings, the door handles, or the huge golden statue sitting in the middle of the space. “Who is that?” I ask, eyeing the giant, shiny metal Xaviann male.
Az clears his throat and shifts on his feet beside me. “Uh… that would be my father.”
“Oh.”
Glancing at Az, I catch him rolling his eyes at the thing, but before I could ask more – or possibly tease him about it – a young male Xaviann comes bustling over to us.
“Oh my horns, oh my horns, oh my horns,” he mutters to himself under a very wide smile.
“Prince Az Xeverrique!” he beams, bowing.
“Second Prince of the Northern Principality, Uh… Twelfth Son-” he says the ‘Twelfth’ with a squint, and in a tone that gives away the fact that he wasn’t sure that was the right number.
Az waves him off, ignoring heads that turn to notice him now. “If you’re going to recite my titles, we’ll be here until supper.”
“Very good,” the male says, bowing again and smiling so wide it looks like it hurts. “It is an honor to have you here at the museum today. I’m Lazzy, and on behalf of the museum, I would be delighted to organize your security and tours during your visit.”
“To be honest, I don’t usually bother with security, Lazzy,” Az says, scratching at his chin with the back of his thumb as he looks around, spotting various museum visitors stop to gawk and point at us. “But perhaps today would be a good day to accept your offer.”
“Splendid!” Lazzy says, pressing a button on his wrist comm to project a map in front of him. “Where would you like to start? The hall of warriors? The venom research archives? Or oh! The Royalty Room, perhaps, eh? We have your family tree in there.”
Az rubs at the back of his neck. “Uh, maybe not that room today. Unless,” he turns to me, “my… companion would like to see it.”
Lazzy turns to me excitedly. “The tree is interactive,” he beams, saying the last word with a flourish of his hands. “It’s in a simulator and is an actual tree you can climb! Each branch features a different king or prince you can talk to!”
Az tips his head back and mutters, “Nex take me now,” to himself.
“Oh, really?” I tease. “And would I find a hologram of Az on that simulated family tree, Lazzy?”
Az shoots me a look.
“Oh, of course! And I must say,” he comments, standing back to look Az up and down, “I think we may have overestimated his sense of style with our fashion choices for his museum hologram. We might need to do some tweaks.”
I start to giggle.
Az looks down at himself, dumbfounded. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“Oh, nothing,” Lazzy shrugs. “It’s just you’re wearing ceremonial horn caps with casual attire, and this shirt-” he shakes his head, taking in the offending article of clothing.
Az plucks at the front of his shirt. “This was given to me by our favorite sponsor. I thought the color suited me, Lazzy. Are you trying to tell me I can’t pull this off?” His tone is light and amused, accompanied by a teasing smile.
“Just be glad he’s wearing a shirt at all, Lazzy,” I lean in to mock-whisper, to which Lazzy’s eyes brighten.
“We don’t have a shirtless hologram on the royal family tree. You could be the first!”
“Knock yourself out,” Az grins. “Now, if you could be so kind, Lady Lois and I would like to start our tour now. Preferably not in the Royalty Room.”
As we watch Lazzy quickly arrange our security detail over his wrist comm, Az leans down, “Maybe I should let you dress me from now on,” he murmurs in my ear, “since you seem to undress me oh so expertly for such a little thing.”
* * *
The Venom Archive room was pretty fascinating.
They even had a section on one female Xaviann whose venom could turn anything she bit and flooded with her active bloodline venom into solid gold.
Az had joked that maybe someone with that precise venom should bite his dad so that he’d turn into one of those statues like in the hall.
Lazzy had laughed but quickly swallowed the sound behind his hand.
There was also a very sad wall of names to commemorate all the Xavianns who had been hunted down by people called ‘venom chasers’ – who seek to kidnap and exploit those who possess particularly sought-after venoms.