Alien and the Wedding Planner

The emperor had been well-pleased, especially that they’d all made it back alive after so many problems. He was hopeful that Alana could help them, but regretted that they’d had to leave so soon. The investigation had been a mutual decision, each hoping for one separately. Emperor Chaos was determined to find out who had risked the lives of fellow Crimeans to stop their mission. He’d called it the highest treason, because not only did it risk their lives, but failure of the mission could risk the lives of everyone on the planet.

The visit with the Prime Minister had taken a long time since he kept interrupting their brief and asking questions, berating them, scoffing at the “waste” and generally being as difficult as possible.

By this time, Alana was at the palace and the banquet that Chaos was throwing in her honor. He wouldn’t get to speak to her privately, at least not for a while, but he found he longed to see her even with others around. The pull he felt toward her was curious. He tried to chalk it up to a new experience—she was the first human he’d spoken more than a few words to, after all—but deep down he knew it was more than that. What it was, exactly, he’d have to wait to find out. There were so many more important things to deal with.

The banquet hall was teeming with people who ate, drank, and talked. It was nothing like the ancient banquets and parties they’d all heard about where people didn’t just dance, they frolicked. Instead of polite expressions meant to acknowledge one’s presence, there used to be laughter and merriment. Arcana had effectively killed that in the Crimean people along with the sadness and fear.

Alana sat next to the emperor, who talked to her almost nonstop, except to take a bite or a drink. She looked around often, perhaps taking in her new environment. Ice wondered, maybe even hoped, that she was scanning the crowd for him.

Their eyes met as he approached the table, and her face lit up with recognition. A friendly or at least familiar face in a crowd could do that, even to a Crimean. But when she smiled widely, Ice felt the strangest urge to mimic it. He almost had to clamp his teeth together to keep it from happening.

Before he reached the table, Fire approached him with questions about the prime minister’s reaction. By the time that conversation ended, the emperor was addressing the crowd, calling Ice and the rest heroes for the mission. He hailed Alana as their savior and encouraged the people to eat and drink as they prepared for a new way of lif

e on Crimea.

When his speech was finished, Ice finally rounded the table and approached Alana. He held out a hand in greeting. She gripped it tight, and her eyes seemed shinier than normal.

“Alana,” he said. “I’m glad you fared so well on the journey.”

“I’m glad to see you at all,” she said, a wide, genuine-looking smile on her face.

“Emperor,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “Empress.”

“Ice, sit here next to me.” The empress gestured to a chair next to her. “Enjoy the meal. You deserve the rest.”

Grim, Storm, and Leaf came into the hall and made their way to them, and places were made for them. The Prime Minister arrived a few minutes later, but didn’t immediately sit. He roamed around the room with his small entourage, talking to citizens of nobility. Given the frowns on their faces, Ice guessed many of them shared his disdain of the mission and their new guest.

Ice ate, glanced at Alana from time to time, and waited patiently for the festivities to be over.

Chapter Eight

Alana wished the emperor had seated Ice next to her, or even between them, instead of on the other side of him where it was difficult to talk.

She’d been told the crew of the Campania were all fine, but she didn’t think she’d really believed it until Ice walked into the banquet hall. Her heart had pounded, and her throat got tight. She was so relieved and pleased to see him, she’d almost jumped out of her seat to give him a hug when he walked up to her and held out his hand.

Alana had settled for squeezing it. She wasn’t sure what kind of stir a hug might cause with all the people in the room. Crimean weren’t huggers, among other things. She’d given a lot of thought to the story about Arcana that Ice told her before she’d passed out, and she’d even told the emperor she wasn’t sure she could really help at all.

But she was here with nothing to do but try.

When the banquet finally came to an end, Emperor Chaos patted her hand. “I’ll have someone escort you back to your room.”

Ice stood. “Emperor, if I may, I’d like to show Alana around, then I’ll take her wherever she needs to go.”

“Of course. As you wish.”

Ice took Alana’s arm and led her out of the banquet hall with many people watching them as they went. Crimean weren’t an emotional people, but they sure didn’t hide their curiosity. Fortunately, the press photographers were gone from outside, having gotten their interviews and images long before the food was served.

As soon as they were alone in what seemed to be a type of elevator, Ice turned to her.

“You look well, Alana. You seem to be adjusting to Crimea.”

“I seem to be.” She cleared her throat. “I thought you were dead when I woke up alone. I’m glad to see you’re not.”

He stared at her for a moment before saying softly, “I dreaded the fact that it could have happened, and that you would know no one here.”

“I don’t really know you, if we’re being technical.”

“More than the rest.”