“No, because you can’t eat raw passion limes, you caveman.” So much for the good princess act. “They’re poisonous unless they’re fermented.”
“ALCOR,” Serpint says.
“Yes, Serpint.”
“Is she telling the truth?”
“About what?”
“What do you mean about what? You hear everything, AL. Stop pretending that you’re not spying on every living and non-living thing on this station every second of the spin.”
“I was busy elsewhere and did not hear the conversation. Please repeat it.”
“She said,” Serpint growls through gritted teeth, “that passion limes are poisonous unless they’re fermented. Is that true?”
I get the feeling Serpint isn’t on good terms with the station AI. But I am lying. And this ALCOR, he will know that.
I start to come up with another reason when the AI says, “Yes, that’s true.”
“Well, why the hell did you tell me to feed her passion limes?”
Ooooo. Shit. They’ve been talking about me. That can’t be good.
“I didn’t, Serpint. I said tushberries.”
“You did not. Play the conversation back.”
“That conversation has been deleted.”
Oh. Man. These two… if the AI was humanoid I get the feeling Serpint would knock his ass out right about now.
“Can I please go to the doctor now?” I whine. “I was mutilated by the bot and now it’s infected. I need medical attention.”
“Would you like me to make you an appointment?” ALCOR asks.
Holy suns! The AI is on my side! I smile sweetly at Serpint and say, “Why, yes. Thank you. Today, if possible.” Then quickly frown to make sure they all get that I’m not feeling well.
“You have an appointment with the harem medical office in twenty minutes. See you then, Lyra.”
“Thank you, ALCOR. I appreciate it.”
“No problem, princess.”
I have to turn away from Serpint so he doesn’t see my smile
Because it’s big. Very, very wide, and huge, and just…
“He’s lying. You’re lying. And don’t think I won’t make you pay for this. Bot,” Serpint says. “Order me a tray of harem fruit and champagne. We’re going to eat dessert first when we get back from medical.”
I sigh. As quietly as possible. And mentally pat myself on the back as the bot chirps out his reply. Because my plan is still in motion. All I have to do is talk him into a pit stop at the ship to scrape the hull and I’m golden.
Quite literally.
This man will never see my true color if I can help it.
CHAPTER NINE – SERPINT
“Let’s go then.”
Lyra snorts. “I need clothes. I’m not going anywhere in your underwear. Which is not fashionable, by the way.”
I give her a slow blink. “You organized my closet, correct?”
“So?”
“So you saw what I own. If you’d like to help yourself to a pair of my tactical pants, go for it.”
“What I’d like to do is help myself to your auto-shopper and pick out something that fits.”
I can’t even manage a laugh. It just comes out as a half huff of contempt. “No, princess, that’s not in your future. You’re a giant pain in my ass and you’re lying. Servants don’t get rewarded with auto-shoppers when they lie.”
“The AI said—”
“The AI lied and we both know that. And the second you get back you’re going to eat that fruit and I’m gonna—”
“You’re gonna what?” She takes a step towards me. “Make me glow?” She manages the laugh I couldn’t and then whispers, “I don’t think so.”
“Well. Then I guess you go as you are. Ready? Because if we miss this appointment I won’t allow another one.”
She purses her plump lips at me. Were they always that plump? And are her eyes lighter?
“Let’s go,” she says. “My barbarically tortured lady parts won’t heal themselves.”
I wave her forward into the elevator, feeling a little bit of satisfaction that she’s barefoot, wearing my t-shirt with no bra, and sporting my underwear. Which is in fashion here on Harem Station. Everyone knows Akeelian males wear boxers. Our two magnificent cocks require spacious undergarments.
The door slides closed and we ascend up to the harem room in silence. She’s got her arms crossed over her chest. Probably trying to hide the fact that she’s braless and this elevator is chilly.
But the ride is short and a few seconds later the door slides open again and she steps out first, her bare feet padding on the cold, dark obsidian floors.
She stops to look around for a moment. There are at least two dozen girls lounging about on couches, chairs, and in the laps of customers. Everyone turns to look at us, their eyes squinting as they focus in on her, and then the girls without partners begin to whisper behind cupped hands.
Lyra lifts her chin, looks over to the left where the medical scanner is, and then walks towards it like she’s the one in charge.
I will say this. She definitely acts like a princess. She might not look like one at the moment, but there’s no way to hide her innate haughtiness. She is used to being in control. She is used to getting her way. She is used to having… power.