The Alien Warrior King's Accountant (Royal Aliens 4)

“This is where you live?”

“This is where all my belongings are, if that’s what you mean.”

It is sort of what I mean. I wonder if he even understands the question I am trying to ask. Is this his home? He doesn’t seem like a castle sort of guy. He seems like a floating warship sort of dude.

“I keep everything of true value here, so that I will forfeit it if I lose in battle. Every time I go to war, I have my most prized positions at risk. It is fair and it is good for me to do this, to be at risk of sacrificing all.”

“Ah.”

“Ah? That is all you have to say, human? I tell you of my innermost thoughts, and you say ah.”

“I’m sorry. This is just so much to take in.”

“No. You are tired and you are hungry and your human brain is incapable of functioning properly if you do not eat. Come. I will cook for you.”

Again, I am shocked. I never expected someone like Tyrant to cook for me. My ex-boyfriend was a mailman and he never cooked for me. He didn’t know how to cook. We’d go out for dinner, or we’d have toaster waffles at home. Or toaster strudel. Basically, everything was toaster oriented.

“Really? You’ll cook food for me?”

“I like to cook,” he announces. “I am good at cooking. Sit down, and I will feed you.”

There are tears in my eyes. I must be exhausted to react this strongly to Tyrant wanting to feed me. Nobody has tried to feed me in years. This is so sweet, so much sweeter than anything I’ve ever had. That’s kind of sad, really. I probably should have had a man treat me better than the alien I’m contracted to work for who inserted a computer in my ass.

“There," he says, proudly presenting a plate he pulled out of nowhere. “I call it potato oblongs with water beast.”

It’s not really cooking when you can whip items out of forever, but I know better than to complain. If this is the way he cooks, this is the way he cooks.

The plate he presents me with is decorated with little cherry tomatoes and shredded carrot and an elegant vinaigrette complete with battered fish and freshly incarnated fries.

“Fish and chips, wow, thank you!”

“It has a name on your planet?”

“It does. It’s really popular in some places.”

“Do you like it, human?”

I take a bite. It is as delicious as it looks. The fish tastes fresh and the fries have just the right amount of satisfying crunch. The salad matches it perfectly too.

This is simple food. He could have produced something weird and alien to impress me, but he chose something that he thought I would like. Is Tyrant… sweet?

“I would like anything you made for me.”

He gives me a surprised look. “I believe that is the only grateful thing you have said since your arrival on this ship.”

“I believe this may be the first nice thing you’ve done since I got here.”

The sentence falls out of my mouth before I can stop it. Well, I’ve ruined it now. It was sweet for a moment, but I’ve fucked it up. What’s wrong with me?

He laughs, breaking the tension. “Maybe it is. I do not like taxes, human. I do not like being beholden to the DICK. If it were up to me, I would wage the war of all wars upon them and destroy them forever. I may have taken some of that out on you. It is difficult to separate you from the job you are doing, in some way aiding the DICK’s agenda.”

I nod, understanding. I’m used to my clients sort of hating me. “I will get your documents in filing order, and then you can wage war after it’s filed. I want my boss to see I can handle this.”

“Ah yes, Mr. Rogers. He is quite a phenomenon. I have a great respect for him.”

I wish Tyrant had great respect for me too. If I can reduce his tax obligations sufficiently, he will owe me a debt that cannot be paid in cash. Or I can at least dream that he will. I know logically that Tyrant doesn’t consider me more than a sort of sentient tax tool. But I can dream.

“Eat,” he reminds me. “I brought you here to ensure that you nourish yourself appropriately for the ordeal ahead.”

“Sorry. I got distracted.”

I start eating, and within a few bites the full force of my hunger makes itself apparent to me. I am absolutely starving, ravenous in a way I rarely felt back on Earth. The food tastes good, but not quite how I expected it to taste. It’s more like what food might taste like if someone explained the concept of it to someone who didn’t eat. Sort of fleshy, flavor without depth, nutrition without satisfaction.