Sex, Love, and Aliens, Volume 1 by Beth D. Carter, Ashlynn Monroe, Imogene Nix, Jaye Shields
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love seals the vows? Would you have me take everything off, sir?”
He spun toward her so quickly that his seat squeaked. She flinched.
“Of course not. What kind of a monster do you take me for?”
“I…uh…my General is not so good,” she feebly excused herself.
“It’s fine. You have a lovely accent. I am not well…versed…on your culture. Do you have to wear the veils until your husband…” His voice trailed away, and she was relieved he hadn’t said the words. She wasn’t ready for him to speak of the sacrament.
“Yes,” she muttered.
He swore so quietly she wasn’t sure if the words were only her imagination.
“You’ve had enough trauma for one day. Go lay back down and get some rest.”
“But it is my duty to honor my new husband.”
“Rest,” he interrupted her with the order.
She’d let her family down. Disgraced, she lay back down on the bench and wept until a fitful sleep claimed her.
When she’d awoken, he’d deposited her in his decaying home and left without so much as an explanation. Pushing the painful memory away, she went back inside. This was his room, but in the many months, that had turned into over a year, since she’d come she’d made herself at home.
A light rapping on the door made her grab her robe. She wrapped the decadent garment around her body.
Pushing open the heavy wooden slab, an elderly woman stepped into the room. Her long gray hair hung down her shoulder, braided in a girlish fashion. She wore a simple, soft green sweater with matching slacks. Her cheeks were ruddy with exertion.
Brae held a plate and glass, and she set the meal down on the small table on the balcony. For a moment, the motherly housekeeper stared at the waves below. When she spoke, she wasn’t looking at Kateri.
“I hope to set this table for you both in the morning. Give the boy a chance. You are so alone, but so is my boy,” the woman pleaded, and turned toward Kateri to embrace her. Kateri tightly hugged the woman who’d been such a solace.
“This is his room. He told me to sleep here, but I do not expect him to give up his place for me when he returns,” she explained.
Brae smiled with a sad little tilt of the right corner of her mouth. “Metricians used to marry more often than they do these days. When my grandparents were children, most folk took vows. Traditionally, couples never slept apart. My Ric is a traditional young man. Give him a chance to prove he deserves you. He could have torn this place down and moved to the city, but I’ve lived here longer than he’s been alive. He kept the manor for me. That kind of compassion is hard to find.”
“He may not even allow me to stay when he returns. We barely know each other,” Kateri countered.
“That’s not true. You speak daily. He contacts you each evening to check on your welfare. He sends you gifts from the exotic locations he’s traveled to on his quest to give your people peace.”
“And I am grateful for his diligence and concern, but those quick exchanges are not enough for me to assume I know anything about him. He has never even seen my face.”
She always wore the veils when she spoke to him, and that was the only time she put them on anymore. Her mother had always told her the day her soul-half saw her face would be a day she wouldn’t forget. She’d secretly read the ancient and explicit love poetry of her people and let it romanticize the unveiling and sexual consecration of marriage. She just couldn’t give up on the hope it was worth waiting for.
If Ric didn’t choose to release her from their commitment, she didn’t want to lose her chance for a proper marital unveiling. So much of her culture was dust now. She clung to her veils and dreams of a loving marriage. Her parents had been so in love. She wanted that for herself.
“That has been your choice, and a wise one. A woman without mystery is a woman who doesn’t understand why the gods built her the way they did. He has asked
He spun toward her so quickly that his seat squeaked. She flinched.
“Of course not. What kind of a monster do you take me for?”
“I…uh…my General is not so good,” she feebly excused herself.
“It’s fine. You have a lovely accent. I am not well…versed…on your culture. Do you have to wear the veils until your husband…” His voice trailed away, and she was relieved he hadn’t said the words. She wasn’t ready for him to speak of the sacrament.
“Yes,” she muttered.
He swore so quietly she wasn’t sure if the words were only her imagination.
“You’ve had enough trauma for one day. Go lay back down and get some rest.”
“But it is my duty to honor my new husband.”
“Rest,” he interrupted her with the order.
She’d let her family down. Disgraced, she lay back down on the bench and wept until a fitful sleep claimed her.
When she’d awoken, he’d deposited her in his decaying home and left without so much as an explanation. Pushing the painful memory away, she went back inside. This was his room, but in the many months, that had turned into over a year, since she’d come she’d made herself at home.
A light rapping on the door made her grab her robe. She wrapped the decadent garment around her body.
Pushing open the heavy wooden slab, an elderly woman stepped into the room. Her long gray hair hung down her shoulder, braided in a girlish fashion. She wore a simple, soft green sweater with matching slacks. Her cheeks were ruddy with exertion.
Brae held a plate and glass, and she set the meal down on the small table on the balcony. For a moment, the motherly housekeeper stared at the waves below. When she spoke, she wasn’t looking at Kateri.
“I hope to set this table for you both in the morning. Give the boy a chance. You are so alone, but so is my boy,” the woman pleaded, and turned toward Kateri to embrace her. Kateri tightly hugged the woman who’d been such a solace.
“This is his room. He told me to sleep here, but I do not expect him to give up his place for me when he returns,” she explained.
Brae smiled with a sad little tilt of the right corner of her mouth. “Metricians used to marry more often than they do these days. When my grandparents were children, most folk took vows. Traditionally, couples never slept apart. My Ric is a traditional young man. Give him a chance to prove he deserves you. He could have torn this place down and moved to the city, but I’ve lived here longer than he’s been alive. He kept the manor for me. That kind of compassion is hard to find.”
“He may not even allow me to stay when he returns. We barely know each other,” Kateri countered.
“That’s not true. You speak daily. He contacts you each evening to check on your welfare. He sends you gifts from the exotic locations he’s traveled to on his quest to give your people peace.”
“And I am grateful for his diligence and concern, but those quick exchanges are not enough for me to assume I know anything about him. He has never even seen my face.”
She always wore the veils when she spoke to him, and that was the only time she put them on anymore. Her mother had always told her the day her soul-half saw her face would be a day she wouldn’t forget. She’d secretly read the ancient and explicit love poetry of her people and let it romanticize the unveiling and sexual consecration of marriage. She just couldn’t give up on the hope it was worth waiting for.
If Ric didn’t choose to release her from their commitment, she didn’t want to lose her chance for a proper marital unveiling. So much of her culture was dust now. She clung to her veils and dreams of a loving marriage. Her parents had been so in love. She wanted that for herself.
“That has been your choice, and a wise one. A woman without mystery is a woman who doesn’t understand why the gods built her the way they did. He has asked
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