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I make myself very comfortable.
A few hours later, I am lying on a very soft couch, popping chocolate bonbons into my mouth. I never used to know what a bonbon was, but now I know it is a chocolate sphere filled with any number of delicious sweet substances. There is a tray of at least a hundred in front of me, and I have picked my way through them.
“My queen, would you like your snacks refreshed? Can we bring you any entertainment? Or would you like to sleep? I can order the builders to cease construction so you can nap in peace?”
Aristo is back, hovering and brimming with eagerness to serve me. When they are not surging with predatory intent, they can be quite charming. I find myself actually relaxed in his presence. He is so very keen to make me happy, which is not something I’m used to.
I could get used to this — but of course I can’t afford to get used to it. It’s one thing to have Goldilocks-ed Emrys’ encampment, but it would be something else entirely to be caught in the bed. I want him to get to the ‘who has been sitting in my chair, who has been eating my porridge’ part and no further.
“I think I’d like something to wear,” I say.
“Of course. We already have all our tailors working on potential outfits. You will have your choice of several, and if you do not care for them, you will have your pick of as many as is necessary to satiate you.”
It is an interesting choice of words, satiate. Then again, valkers are a species dominated by various kinds of hungers. They are always trying to fill some part of themselves with some part of something else.
“Thank you very much.”
I decide I’ll stay long enough to get a little rest, some good nutrition, and a new set of clothes. I might also be able to pick up some information that will help me avoid getting caught once I get out of here. I’m thinking of leaving the scythkin ship behind and taking one belonging to them. I like to think that adding insult to injury is one of my finest talents.
“My queen, we have several outfits for you.”
At some point, some time later, I am woken from a very nice nap by Aristo, whose arms are absolutely laden with freshly made attire. There are a great many regal gowns, but there are also some more practical pieces. My human form must have been previously known to the tailors, for without measuring me they have somehow approximated my proportions and measurements. Did Emrys tell them that too?
“How did they know what size to make these things? They don’t have any measurements, do they?”
“They saw you as you walked past, and they are blessed with gifts of observation. Our species is sometimes referred to as walking calculators. Something to do with needing to understand prey well, I imagine. The moment you stepped out of your ship, any one of us could have guessed your size, weight, speed, and many other qualities.”
“Oh, yes? What else?”
“It is easily discerned that you are given to falsehoods.”
I freeze as he says those words. Am I about to be busted? Did they just play along in some elaborate game only to catch me out at this moment?”
“Do not look so offended,” he says. “All humans are liars.”
“That is probably true,” I agree, smiling. I am not offended, and I am glad he misread my expression to think I was.
“Something probably true is the last thing any human would say,” Aristo says.
“Alright. Let’s not make a big deal out of it, unless you have some specific lie you’d like to catch me in.”
He smiles, and I have a creeping sensation that I do not know something I really very much need to know.
I settle on a very nice outfit which is a skirt, but not nearly as long as any of the others I’ve worn lately. This one flows in an A-line cut to just below my knee. Knee-high boots offer coverage to the lower half of my leg. The upper part of my body is clad in a light bodice, a sort of almost corset type garment that cinches in around my waist and makes the most of my shape. It’s an outfit that makes me look and feel rather powerful as I examine myself in the mirror. Of course, it doesn’t have the nanobot blocking powers of the roll of tinfoil I was wearing, but you can’t have everything.
“A human mate fit for a king’s sacrifice,” Aristo says.
“Hmmm? What was that about sacrifice?”
“Love is sacrifice, is it not? Here, have another ice cream.”
I take the ice cream, because it is very, very good. It’s cool, which ameliorates some of the omnipresent heat of the planet. It’s also one of the tastiest things I’ve ever consumed. It has bits of crispy caramelized sugar throughout it, so there’s a creamy softness and then a crunchy goodness. Good textures existing in contrast.
As I eat, I can’t help but muse that humans aren’t the only bad liars. In between fresh spoonfuls of ice cream, I ruminate on the fact that it’s time for me to get out of here. Just as soon as I have a little more of that sweet ambrosia they make. For creatures who mostly drink blood, they have an impressive spread of sweet treats on hand for my delectation.
Yes, it has occurred to me that I am being Hansel and Greteled. That’s an ancient human tale about a couple of abandoned kids who found their way to a woman who lived in a house made of food who snatched them up and put them in a cage and fed them with the notion of eventually cooking them. As a result, I’ve always been careful to avoid women who live in houses made of confectionary.
“I’ll put the other clothes away in the wardrobe,” he says. “You can change at your pleasure, and of course, if you want anything else, anything at all, please let me know.”
