The words rose naturally to his lips from a place he hadn’t known he had inside him. Even as he spoke them, James knew he was being needlessly emotive. It should be enough to kiss the little female’s hand and assure her that he had only her best interest at heart and that he would protect her without fail. He hadn’t needed to also give her his Kindred oath of death and devotion. And yet, those were the words that came to him and he seemed helpless not to say them.
It was disconcerting, to hear himself making such illogical pronouncements but the next moment, James had other worries on his mind. For the Princess’s cheeks got even pinker and she almost began to pant. The lights behind her dress grew much brighter and a faint, sweet, burning smell began to rise from her soft skin.
James frowned. He knew that smell. One of the new foods he had been trying lately was what the Earthlings called “candy” and one of the shops he frequented on the edge of the Common Area in the Mother Ship specialized in it. James had smelled that scent—the smell of burning sugar—when he went into the candy shop. Now it was rising from the Princess and she was looking distinctly overheated.
At once, an older woman who had been standing behind the Princess jumped into action.
“Quickly—she’s overheating! The ice pads! Where are they?” she exclaimed.
There was a flurry of motion as servants rushed to obey her but before they could reach the Princess, her lovely amber-brown eyes rolled up in her head and she fainted.
5
James reached out and caught her—what else could he do? Cradling her in his arms, he could feel that her whole body was putting out heat like a furnace. It was as though the little female was burning up with fever.
He looked down at her anxiously, remembering what Commander Sylvan had told him about the Royals of Regalia Five and their Heat Cycle, as well as the possibility of spontaneous combustion. Somehow he had to cool her down before she burst into flames!
But his body seemed to know what the Princess needed, even before his brain could work through the problem. Thanks to his Z’ngu DNA and his ability to regulate his own body temperature, his skin was cooling rapidly. As his hands became icy, he cradled the Princess’s lovely face in one palm, caressing her cheeks to chill the heat that was consuming her.
After a moment, she gave a little gasp and opened her eyes.
“Oh,” she whispered wonderingly. “Oh, your hands are so lovely and cold.”
“The better to cool you down, Princess,” James murmured, looking back at her.
At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms forever. It was a strange idea—he had never had such thoughts about any female before, no matter how aesthetically pleasing they were. Was he…feeling?
Surely not, James told himself sternly. And yet, how else could he explain this strange, possessive, protective feeling that had come over him? This wish to hold the little female close to him and never let her go?
Behind him, he could hear the servants still rushing around and the older woman was saying,
“Where did you put them? You know the ice pads are always to be kept at the ready when a Royal is in the middle of her Heat Cycle!”
Princess Ka’rissa must have heard the flurry too, because she struggled to sit up in James’s arms and called,
“Pray, Lady Mildew, do not distress yourself! For I am quite well—I promise I am.”
“No, you’re not,” James growled, frowning down at her. “Lie still, Princess. You nearly went up in flames just now.”
Her pink cheeks went pale.
“No I didn’t!” she insisted, struggling even harder. “Let me go at once, Sir! You do not even know me!”
“I know that,” James replied, frowning. “But I will not let you go until I’m certain you’re well.”
He held her firmly, assessing her one more time despite her struggles. Her temperature had come down considerably and the sweet smell of burning sugar had subsided. At last, satisfied that the danger had been averted, James set her on her feet, where she wobbled uncertainly for a moment before catching her balance.
“There. I am well, as I told you,” she told the older woman, who was fluttering around her, straightening her wig and her dress as the Court looked on avidly, gossiping about the incident behind their feathered fans. “I am perfectly fine—I pray you will not upset yourself about me, Lady Mildew.”
But it sounded to James that the older woman was more concerned with the propriety of the situation than the Princess’s brush with danger.
“So very improper—being held in the arms of a strange man in the very middle of the Court!” she was muttering, as she straightened the Princess’s clothing. “How could you let yourself faint into his arms in that way? And him acting much more like a suitor than a guard—scandalous!”