After her skin wrinkled and she'd cried herself a little pity party, Caeryssa shut off the water. Surprisingly, the ship hadn't limited the amount she'd used. Another luxury she wasn't accustomed to on board. They must have a brilliant recycling system and an excellent engineering team that kept everything humming. Her mom was a decent engineer. Nevertheless, things constantly broke down on the Basilisk. It wasn't exactly a new ship. Growing up, showers had been hurried splashes to get wet, then shutting the water off while soaping up to conserve the precious liquid, and a quick rinse to finish. Even on the ships she travelled on for expeditions, showers were limited to under five minutes.

Caeryssa dried her skin with a fluffy, soft towel and drew on her bra and panties. No point in re-donning her torn shipsuit. It didn't cover the important bits and certainly hadn't been any protection. But perhaps there was something in the drawers.

Cautiously, she listened against the door. No sounds reached her other than the low hum of the ship's engines.

She slid open the bathroom door and peered into the cabin. The breath she'd been holding exploded out in a noisy exhale of relief. She stepped towards the drawers but halted, arrested by the pile of silver and white fabric on the end of the bed.

Someone had come inside while she'd been in the shower. A shudder racked her. Thank the stars she'd locked the bathroom door. There was nothing more vulnerable than being naked in the shower.

With two fingers, she lifted the topmost item and shook it out. A fine white natural fibre dress shirt with long sleeves and open collar. She tried it on and snorted as the bottom edge fell to her knees. Still, better than nothing. She set a second identical shirt aside and lifted a silver short-sleeved round-necked shirt in a slick material typical of the quick-dry expedition wear she had in her dressers at home. After taking the dress shirt off, she drew the silver shirt on, then added the dress shirt over top. More layers were definitely to her advantage, even if they could rip the clothes off her. At least she'd make them work for it.

Under a second silver shirt were two palm-sized packages and four the length of her thumbnail—vacuum cubes used to store goods on spacecraft where space was always at a premium. Or at least, that had been her experience before boarding this ship. It was almost reassuring to see the familiar, clear packaging. She pulled the tabs on each and they expanded to two pairs of tan trousers, two pairs of black men's boxers, and two pairs of black socks.

Well, better than nothing and a sight better than her ripped shipsuit.

She drew on the pants and tucked in the silver shirt. Other than being too long in the legs, the pants fit well enough, if a bit low on the hips. After tying the white shirt at her waist and rolling up her pant legs, she drew on clean socks and her boots. Without a brush or comb, she used her fingers to get her hair into some semblance of order.

Her stomach rumbled. As if food was important right now. She pressed a hand to her belly and knelt on the bed to study the file—Rain? Zharl? Cain?—whatever the fuck his princeliness' name was had left displayed on the large wall screen. His proof that her father was an assassin.

She rolled her eyes. Stems and leaves, it was absolutely nuts.

She didn't know her father's shipping routes over the past seventeen cycles when she'd been on Alycone at Storm Coast Academy during her early teens, then Anvilstar Institute to get her degrees, and the last six cycles on Ankion at AIMAED when she wasn't on an expedition. But before that, they'd travelled constantly in the Basilisk. No way could she remember everywhere, but if she could recall even one definitive location that conflicted with the long list of assassinations, she'd prove that arrogant prince wrong.

Birthdays.

Surely, she could remember where they'd been for many of her birthdays. When she'd been ten, they'd celebrated at Usaetis with its incredible coral reefs. It'd been the first time she'd snorkelled.

Tracing her finger over the wall screen to find the stardate closest to her tenth birthday, she found the assassination of Amauri Boff two days before her birthday on—she swallowed against the lump forming in her throat—on Usaetis.

Well, she shrugged, that was just a coincidence. On her twelfth birthday, just before they'd sent her to Storm Coast, they'd gone ice skating and ate frozen maple sap on Suania. Quickly, she searched for anything near that stardate and found the assassination of Marco Toye the day before on... no, no, that wasn't possible. Her heart raced, pain welling in her chest as she stared at the file.

Another... surely another would clear all this up. What had they done for her eleventh birthday? She closed her eyes, trying to picture it. Her palms turned sweaty, and she swayed, dizzy. Right. The rainforests of Mebrinda. The birthday that had inspired her career choice. Her finger shook as she looked up the stardate on the file. Elifio Pride was assassinated on Mebrinda three days before her birthday.

With a moan, she collapsed onto the bed and rocked in place, her head between her knees.

An assassin? Could it really be true? Twice, two cycles apart, could be a coincidence, but she was a scientist. Three separate assassinations, each a cycle apart, each on a world she was visiting with her parents at the time? That was harder to dismiss. Sure, it wasn't conclusive, but the sinking in her gut was enough.

Nausea churned, chasing away her previous hunger. She didn't want to know more names, to think about more people her father had most likely murdered. Roots, her heart hurt. Tears welled and coursed down her face to drip onto her knees.

When the cabin door slid open hours later, she gazed up with bleary eyes.

"Will you cooperate and walk quietly or do I need to take you off the way I brought you on?" the sharding prince asked, an eyebrow raised.

Had he come to gloat, the fucker?

Caeryssa went to move off the bed and winced. Her limbs had gone numb. After shaking her arms and wiggling her legs, she tried again to stand. He caught her this time when her knees collapsed.

"Right... carrying you it is, then."

He scooped her up into a bridal carry, better than over his shoulder like last time, but it still made her feel tiny and vulnerable. She tried to ignore his body heat soaking into her chilled form. Blasted berries, he was so warm, and she had to fight the need to wrap around him, to absorb it like a plant seeking sunlight.

"I can walk," she protested as he set off down the grey hall. A ubiquitous colour on starships, although this one didn't show the usual black carbon scoring from fouled air scrubbers. Instead of raw pipework for the ceiling, the mechanics were enclosed behind walls. Everything gleamed on this craft, reinforcing the wealth of its owner beyond anything she'd ever experienced. The sense of being out of her depth, sinking and in over her head, sent her pulse skyrocketing.

"Sure you can, little hellion, but since I'd like to get to the palace without you face-planting, I'll just carry you to the cargo bay entrance."

He sounded amused, damn him, while she sucked in air like it was disappearing. And with every breath, that dark honey almost woodsy scent—a fragrance she'd noticed on the shirts but hadn't immediately identified—surrounded her, filling her, enticing her to burrow deeper as it calmed her. Why the stars did he have to have such a wide, muscular chest and strong arms? If she hadn't been kidnapped and choked by him, she might have mistaken him for a hero in those silly entertainment serials some of her expedition crew enjoyed. It was no wonder women flung themselves at him.

Oh... oh roots! She'd forgotten about the paparazzi that were likely to greet the arrival of his ship. "I can walk," she insisted, struggling as they approached the cargo hold.

He swung her down to her feet, not even breathing hard, damn him.

"Very well, but keep hold of my hand and behave, or I'll toss you back up onto my shoulder this time." The damned prince took her hand and guided her toward the open hatch and ramp. As they stepped off the ship and onto the cement landing pad, he added, "Welcome to Penates, your new home for the foreseeable future."

She froze mid-step and the relentless bastard pulled her along, not giving her a chance to deal with his comment. Continuing to drag her by her hand, he headed for an exit to the large hangar they'd parked in. When they emerged, camera flashes and shrieking girls had Caeryssa shielding her eyes from the blinding lights. If only she could block the damn sound, too.

Squinting, she took in the large security officers keeping the crowd away. Zoren—Ralen?—lifted a bare arm and waved. Murmurs of shock swelled. Caeryssa gritted her teeth and tried to smile. Well, that was one way to announce their soulbinding without actually announcing it.

Her breath caught. Oh, thistles and thorns! The evil man was devious. By revealing their bond, he ensured the images and story of his arrival here with her would travel far and wide. It was sure to reach her family.

He was baiting his trap, damn him.

(1601 words)