Chapter Two—The Aftermath

I somehow managed to dress myself, though my head was swimming without a miasma of conflicting thoughts. I couldn’t seem to get Kaz out of my mind, how he’d nearly claimed me as his, how I’d nearly let him. And why hadn’t I? I was a grown adult, entitled to enjoy a little of what life had to offer, and life was offering me a beautiful, if strange, lover, who was clearly wild about me, so why didn’t I let myself enjoy it?

Maybe it was something about propriety: don’t shit where you eat, so to speak, and Kazimir Kain was my employer, after all. But maybe it was something deeper. Kazimir Kain was a member of the ruling class of Ivaldan invaders, and weren’t we humans the species they’d enslaved? Sort of?

I couldn’t make heads or tails of what I felt, so I thought that the best thing to do would be to dive into work. So I made my way to the nursery to find Tox and Pim at play there, engaged in a complicated-looking board came, full of hexagonal tiles and small metal figurines in an elaborate display. “Hello,” they said in easy unison when I had entered the room, the midafternoon sunlight streaming in and illuminating them where they sat.

“Good afternoon,” I said, feeling odd, off, and desperate not to show it.

“What’s wrong?” Pim asked, looking up at me.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I lied.

“Something’s wrong,” Tox said, also looking up, and I stared into their moon faces, and decided that a half-truth was better to a lie, particularly since it seemed these astute young Invaldans could read my face like the open pages of a book.

“I think I’m still shaken up by the fire,” I said. “That’s all.” They nodded their sage little heads and, satisfied, returned their attention to their game.

“That’s understandable,” Pim said. “A fire is no small thing.”

“Particularly,” said Tox, moving one of his figurines across the board, “because we are less likely to notice it than you are.”

“You can’t move there,” Pim said.

“Can so,” said Tox.

“No, you can’t. I have a Sidjian Knight protecting that spot, there, and you have to confront him before you can move to this space.”

“I am a Morgonian Rogue, and I don’t need to confront a Sidjian Knight, because I’m a Morgonian Rogue.”

Then, they stared at each other in a silent standoff, and I knew that the beginning of their argument had been solely for my benefit, and that they didn’t need to use their words in order to disagree.

“Boys,” I said, and garnered no response from them whatsoever. “Boys.” Finally, Pim broke eye contact, assumably having lost the silent dispute.

“Yes?”

“What do you mean, you are less likely to have noticed the fire?” I moved closer to them and sat down beside Pim, pretending to try to understand the game they were playing while they spoke silently amongst themselves.

“It’s only that our home planet is much, much warmer than it is here,” Tox said at length.

“Much, much warmer.”

I furrowed my brow. “How much warmer, precisely?” Tox and Pim both looked up, that universal gesture of people trying to figure something out in their heads.

“You said the other day that the average temperature of this planet was 59 degrees Fahrenheit, is that correct?” Pim asked, and I nodded my confirmation. “Well, the surface temperature of AC-1097 in the Ivaldi system—”

“Our home planet,” Tox interjected.

“Yes, our home planet. The surface temperature there is roughly 94 degrees Fahrenheit, though of course we do not use the same measurement.”

“Though it all works out the same,” Tox interjected.

“Yes, it all works out the same.”

I chewed quietly at my lower lip. If their home planet had an average surface temperature that high, then some parts of their world would have been entirely uninhabitable. For human beings, at least.

“Yes,” Pim confirmed, without my having to speak a word. “We are able to withstand much higher temperatures, but we are comfortable at an average temperature of 90 degrees Fahrenheit.”

“So you see,” Tox said, “that we would not have awakened to a fire because it was suddenly warm around us.”

“We’d probably have to be literally on fire ourselves for it to impact us at all.”

“Unless the sound of the fire woke us.”

“Right, unless the sound of the fire woke us.”

“Or the structural integrity of our room and/or furniture was compromised.”

“Right, or that.”

“Right,” I echoed in a dreamy tone. Then, I clapped my hands and decided we’d wasted quite enough of the day, and it was time to get to work. “Ok, shall we put the game up and get into our lessons? We’re already behind today.”

“Can’t I just have a few more minutes?” Tox begged. “I’ve almost beaten him.”

“Have not,” Pim said, in a way that suggested, perhaps, Tox was telling the truth. “But in any case, the game will conclude shortly.”

“Very well,” I acquiesced. “You may have ten minutes to finish up. But then we must get back to our earth sciences.”

~ * ~

Dinner that evening was a comparably stoic affair. The room was warm and brightly lit with a crystal chandelier hanging over the center of the long, oak dining table that looked as though it belonged the banquet hall of a king. The place settings were equally as lavish, with hand stitched linen napkins and sterling silver cutlery. Wine was poured into crystal glasses that glinted in the light of the candles at the center of the table, candles that beautifully framed the visage of the Master of the House.

The Ivaldans present seemed to be chatting silently amongst themselves while the humans poked solemnly at the pot roast. With Alice Fairfax to my left and Sarah Reed to my right, I felt as though I had to be very careful about what I said or did, even under normal circumstances. But with Kazimir Kain sitting across from me, and with Blanche Ingram practically falling over him on his left, it was difficult to keep my expressions neutral.

The boys, Tox and Pim, were on their father’s right-hand side, and they were looking at one another as they noisily chewed bits of meat. In fact, their chewing was all the noise there was, until blessed Ms. Fairfax spoke up.

“Is everyone all right, after the events of last night?” She asked, setting her fork down on the side of her plate.

No one spoke right away, but finally Sarah Reed leaned forward to talk at Alice across my lap. “Just grateful that there was not more serious damage done,” she said.

“Indeed,” Kaz said, pressing his linen napkin to his lips as he attempted to get Ms. Ingram to sit in her seat instead of trying to share his. I could barely take my eyes away from the two of them. They were so beautiful, as though whatever God existed had plucked them up and put them together, because they were His most exquisite creations. Blanche’s flaxen hair was done up in a French twist, her yellow sundress low cut and inviting.

“I’m just so glad you weren’t injured, darling,” she veritably purred. I couldn’t hide my disgust, so I took a drink of water to make myself look busy.

“All thanks to Jane,” Kaz said, and I could feel his eyes on me, but there was no sense in meeting his gaze. Everyone would see that I was thinking about how mere hours earlier he’d held me in his arms; mere hours earlier, we’d nearly…

“Yes, bravo, Jane,” Blanche said, and smiled at me, but that smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. In fact, it was the smiley-est scowl I’d ever seen.

“We were thinking,” Ms. Fairfax said, canting her chin to Ms. Reed, who was just nodding her head, “that it might be a good time to, ah…hold some sort of event. For the household staff, and for members of your parliament. For the community, really.”

“Oh, what a splendid idea!” Blanche chimed in with a clap of two delicate hands. Kaz was looking rather dour, but Tox and Pim seemed interested enough. Me, I just ate some pot roast and found I did not particularly care much for pot roast.

“It would bolster the staff,” Ms. Fairfax went on, “and it would be good press for the human and Ivaldan relations, to see how well everyone’s getting on here.”

“How well could we possibly be getting on, Ms. Fairfax?” Kaz demanded in a somber tone. “Someone tried to murder me in my bed last night, and nearly extinguished the lot of you with me.”

“Now, let’s not be so dramatic,” Blanche said, her hands out in front of her as though she were trying to fold up the matter and tuck it safely away into a hall closet. “No one was hurt.”

“That isn’t the point,” Kaz said, his tone low, rumbling. He cleared his throat, and I remembered the Ivaldans did not naturally come with vocal chords. I wondered if his nanites were irritating the natural tissues of his throat, or if the clearing of it was an affectation he’d learned by studying the habits of his human counterparts.

A silence lapsed over the lot of us as Sarah Reed and Alice Fairfax exchanged glances before venturing to continue. “We just think, sir,” Sarah said at last, “that we need some light and levity. It’s been years—there have been no grand parties, no…events of any kind at all. It’s time—the people need it.”

Alice Fairfax gave a knowing nod of her head. “It’s time,” she concurred.

Kaz was silent for a moment, before turning his eyes on me. “And what do you think, Jane?” He asked. “You’ve been very quiet.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what to think,” I said, and Blanche shot a glare at me that told me in no uncertain terms that I’d better not ruin this for her. “I suppose a party sounds…nice.” More water, more fatty pot roast.

“Fine,” Kaz agreed at once, much to the delight of everyone else at the table, “we’ll have a party then.” Sarah and Alice visibly relaxed, whereas the two boys looked energized by the prospect. Blanche managed both responses simultaneously, somehow, and I couldn’t help but admire her for it a little.

“We thought, Master Kain,” Sarah went on, from her more relaxed posture leaning back in her chair with her hands folded neatly in her lap, “that it might be an ideal time for you to announce your choice of mate.”

My stupid heart dropped like a stone into my stomach. But Kaz just lifted one finely sculpted brow high over one swirling, celestial eye. “Well, we can see,” Alice interjected, “how wonderfully you and Blanche are getting on. And the rest of the world will be eager to see our species united.”

“It’ll be like a royal wedding!” Blanche exclaimed, her eyes twinkling in the candlelight. “Oh, it’ll be spectacular!”

“Indeed,” Alice went on. “It will do so much for the humans and for the Ivaldans to see a union like yours.”

“And Blanche is a born star,” Sarah said, gesturing to the beauty across the table. “The world will love her.”

“It’ll be marvelous!”

And so why should I care, then? If he marries Blanche and the world loves her, that would be fine. I’d rejected him anyway. It was all just fine. But I didn’t feel fine; I felt feverish, as though something wonderful had just ended, as though something delicate had just shattered in my hands. I held my breath as I waited to hear what Kaz would say. Surely, after how we had behaved this morning, he wouldn’t agree to it. Surely he’d determine it was a ridiculous idea.

But he didn’t.

“Very well,” he said, tossing his napkin down onto his unfinished food. “You shall have your party and your announcement. But I want no part in the planning of it.”

“Excuse me,” I muttered, tossing my own napkin down and pushing away from the table. No one seemed to notice as I made my way quickly from the dining room and toward the staircase. They just continued to talk about the arrangements until I’d darted up the stairs and out of ear shot.

I moved as quickly as I could, past a few members of the house staff as they finished up their duties for the evening and headed down to the kitchens to have a meal of their own. And once I was safely ensconced in my bedroom, I leaned back against the door and willed myself not to cry.

Stop being stupid, Jane Lockewood, I said to myself, squeezing my eyes shut. But I couldn’t deny the sick feeling in my stomach, like my heart had dropped down into it and was festering there. I felt the acid of bile rising in the back of my throat and thought I might burst into tears.

But no. I wasn’t going to cry over a man I barely knew, because of some truncated tryst that probably only happened because I’d saved his life. That was absurd, and I was a teacher and a scientist, and I did not deal in absurdities. Fine, so we were having a party. I decided I was going to look fabulous.