“I am afraid that no one’s word is good here, unless it is also backed up by the consumption of a truth berry, Mistress,” the Director of Mining said firmly. “Please—I must ask that you and your partner each eat a berry or I will have to evict you from the Trials before they have even started. Which would be a great shame, since we have never had the Mineral Rights Trials with less than four couples, which is the holy number of Purification and Love.”
For a moment, the Yonnite Mistress just glared at him. Then, apparently seeing that he wasn’t going to change his mind and bend the rules just for her, she snatched a berry from the tray.
“Oh…all right.” she snarled. “But if I go into anaphylactic shock or come to any sort of harm because of this, you’ll be hearing from my solicitor!” She crammed the berry in her mouth and nodded at her companion, who was standing patiently beside her. “Well? Go on, Charn—if I must take one, so must you!”
“Yes, Mistress.” The big male—who actually looked like he might have some Kindred blood, now that Em studied him more closely—took a berry from the tray and popped it into his mouth dutifully. He chewed with his eyes downcast, a look of misery on his face.
“They seem to have some kind of Dominant and submissive relationship going on—some kind of kink,” Em murmured to Rarev and then wondered why she’d said it aloud. It was normally the kind of thought she would have kept to herself—was this the truth berry again? Or was she simply getting more comfortable with the Monstrum Kindred Commander?
“I believe it is more than just a ‘kink’,” Rarev murmured back. “From what Commander Sylvan has told me, Yonnie Six is a planet ruled by females where males are considered only worthy to be bodyslaves and menial laborers. I believe that the Mistress probably owns the hapless male at her side, who has no choice but to obey her every command.”
“What? But why must he obey her?” Em whispered back, feeling sorry for poor Charn. “He’s three times her size! Surely if he wanted to get away from her, he could.”
Rarev shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Do you see the black collar he’s wearing around his neck?” When Em nodded, he continued. “The Yonnites use pain collars on their bodyslaves—if he steps out of line, she can shock him into submission.”
“But that’s terrible!” Em whispered fiercely. She hated the idea of anyone being subjugated to another’s will without their consent. “And if that’s the true relationship between them, shouldn’t someone tell the Mining Director and the rest of the panel of judges?”
To her surprise, Rarev shook his head.
“No, I don’t believe it will be necessary. Now that the Mistress has consumed a truth berry, I believe the whole truth about her relationship with her bodyslave will come out.”
Em could only hope he was right. But before she could say more, the Director cleared his throat and all eyes turned to him.
“All right,” he said, smiling genially. “As all our contestants have now consumed a truth berry, it is time for us to adjourn to the Trial Chamber so that the Trial of Truth can begin.”
17
As they filed from one chamber into another, Rarev made certain to keep between Emilia and everyone else—especially the squid-like creature named Om’bobla. He didn’t trust the way the male kept shooting glances at the curvy Mature Elite—probably hoping that her dress would suddenly snap open, revealing her luscious body again.
Rarev might have wished the same thing—he had to admit that Emilia naked was a very pleasant sight—but she seemed terribly uncomfortable when her body was revealed and he didn’t wish her any distress. So he kept between her and everyone else, hoping to act as her cover and shield her from prying eyes if the dress misbehaved and popped open again.
The new chamber they were entering had the same white and crystal décor as nearly everyplace within the Rigellen compound, but there was a slight difference. Placed evenly around the room were four large, round crystal chambers. These domes were rounded at the top and extended all the way down to the white-carpeted floor. The chambers within were large enough that several people could have stood under them without touching with ease.
“Do you think they’re going to put us into one of those? They look like giant bell jars,” Emilia murmured, looking up at him. “I’m a bit claustrophobic,” she added. “Though I don’t think those are so small they’d make me have a panic attack.”
Then she put a hand to her mouth and wrinkled her brow, as though wondering why she’d revealed that fact about herself.
Rarev had to restrain a smile. Who knew that the fearless World Council Minister would admit to being afraid of anything? The truth berry was certainly working on her!