Chapter 1
Jenous 3569
The King of Jenous was old and without an heir. Not that his people cared; they waited enthusiastically for his death. However, the Jenousian people wanted to retain the royal bloodline of their monarchy. This and the knowledge of Blains' imminent death kept the people of Jenous on verge of civil war. Years of cruel, repressive and forced rule marred the history of a world populated by basically peace-loving, intelligent, and advanced people. Only the rumors that persisted through the years that their beloved Queen Cassintra, the woman who should have been the wife to the rightful king, King Belous, had not died as Blains had been informed, kept the people from revolting sooner. The rumors told she had, fearing for the prince's life, escaped with the rightful heir to the Jenousian throne, hiding him safely away until Prince Norquar was old enough to fulfill the prophecy made by the old seer on the prince's day of birth.
To appease his advisors and despite his age, Blains agreed to wed again and produce an heir, hoping to prevent civil war. His appetite for sex had not waned. Despite his poor physical condition, he kept a harem. Yet in all the years none of his women had provided him with a child. Blains never questioned this, as he could care less. Now rumors of his sexual perversions told stories of voyeurism, more than participation. Most of his court attributed his lack of heirs to his sexual perversions. A woman could not carry a child the way he abused her. Fathers of the young and attractive women of his court forbid their daughters to attend court for fear the king would see them and order them into his harem.
After the loss of his firstborn son and queen years earlier, he now must face his duty to produce an heir. Since love would play no part in his choice, the decision would be made on her qualifications. Blains would choose the woman for her intelligence, bravery, and of course beauty. A daughter chosen from the ein-sti-ri, the scientist-warrior class, one preferably with a royal lineage would fit those qualifications well. It had been an easy decision. The twenty-year-old daughter of his High General Kortup, Lady Belayla.
Blains invited the general to a private dinner and informed him of his choice. Clearly, the general was not delighted, but duty and honor prevented him from declining this privilege, and his daughter would be queen, when Blains died. She would rule as regent until the heir was of age to rule, if Blains could produce an heir.
"Your Majesty," General Kortup began carefully, "you may find my daughter, though highly intelligent and beautiful, with bravery that is of course unquestioned, a difficult girl to deal with."
"I am sure she is also an honorable young woman who will do her duty," Blains said with a lecherous smile. He had seen the stunning Belayla despite her father's precautions to keep her from court.
"Honorable, yes, but strong-willed and well-versed in our laws and customs, my lord," Kortup warned.
"I will have the proper documents drawn up for her signature and yours. We will then announce the good news to our people and the joyous date of the celebration." Blains patted his general's back as he walked him to the door after the dinner was concluded.
Kortup entered his home downhearted. It sickened him to tell his beloved and only child what he considered sad news of her impending marriage to their despot king. He watched the vision of female perfection descend the long stairs from the upper floors of their large mansion. She flew down them to throw her arms around him and hug her only parent in greeting. Seeing the downtrodden look in his eyes, she feared another far-off planet campaign for yet more unneeded conquests.
"Oh no, Father, not another war?" she asked. "This one I will be sure to go with. He must give me a command this time," Belayla said with some eagerness. "After all I am a commander in the Space Rangers."
"No, daughter, not wars," Kortup said, his voice low and sad.
"What then?" Belayla demanded.
"He wants you!" Kortup could not look into her beautiful deep-green eyes, so much like her mother's. Silence reigned. Belayla could not speak, a rare event for his willful daughter.
"How do you mean, he wants me? I will not be a member of that despot's harem!" Belayla stated emphatically.
"Of course not, daughter. Even he would not dare ask that. Your lineage is better than his and he knows it would not be legal. Blains needs an heir and he wishes to crown you as his queen," Kortup explained.
Belayla turned and sat abruptly on a hallway chair, the teal lace gown and robe she wore flowing around her, her long dark auburn hair falling past her hips as she sat silently in thought. "I haven't any choice. Custom, honor and the law demand I submit to the king's wishes. However, I have some leeway. I will bear his heir, but I will not, under any circumstances, share a bed with him."
"Daughter!" Kortup exclaimed. "How do you plan to avoid that?"
"A prenuptial agreement," Belayla said. "It is not unprecedented." She quoted several times in their history of such things happening. In their culture, a contract must bear both parties' signatures before a marriage could take place. Belayla was clever, and knew the law was the one area she could use to save herself. "Our contract will state that I will only submit to artificial impregnation. His Majesty has far too many women as it is. I will not compete with them or live in his palace. I shall retain my own residence." She raised her chin in defiance.
"Daughter, you cannot expect me to tell King Blains that," Kortup objected.
"Father, I most certainly don't expect it. I wouldn't miss that pleasure myself for all the power and jewels on Jenous." Belayla laughed scornfully. She attended court when it was unavoidable and had seen how the king ogled her and nothing would give her greater pleasure.
"What if he refuses?" Kortup exclaimed, worry for his daughter always his primary concern.
"He won't. By morning those in the entire court will know he has approached you for my hand." Belayla smiled and walked to the communications board to call her friends.
She told three of her closest friends and by morning the ruling elite of the planet knew as did most of their subordinates. As a respected officer, Belayla's reputation for honor and honesty held greater respect than that of the king's, his reputation was so poor. Her bloodline as royal as that of the king's, and although descended from a different lineage, it made her worthy to be queen. The king found himself trapped by his own design, and by a mere chit of a girl.
At midmorning, his majesty's messenger arrived at their door, wearing official regalia, bearing a gift of jewels for Belayla from the king. He officially requested the honor of General Kortup's presence and that of Lady Belayla's at the palace to discuss a formal contract of marriage.
Belayla was dressed awaiting such an invitation, but made the messenger wait an hour before she descended the stairs to accompany her father and the king's messenger. She wore the rare pendant King Blains had sent as a gift, fire orb opals set inside an anti-gravity field held on a black crystal chain. The flame of the opals danced, reflecting the delicate translucent clarity of Belayla's skin, giving her a spiritual halolike glow. Belayla decided against wearing her uniform. Instead, she chose to wear an intensely feminine rose day gown that accented her graceful figure.
"Gentlemen, shall we? I am sure His Majesty is waiting." She smiled sweetly. Normally a royal escort would not be nervous or unsure of themselves. However, it generally wasn't their commander they escorted into their king's throne room as his perspective bride. Belayla knew both young men in her escort, as she was their commander and neither knew what to do, bow or salute.
Arriving at the palace, their king greeted them cordially and conducted them to a private meeting room, minus their escort. When the door closed and they were alone, his demeanor changed radically.
"I assume that since you and Lady Belayla are here, General Kortup, your presence with your daughter is in agreement to present her to me as my bride, is it not?" Blains asked, his eyes flashed like black ice.
"Yes, my lord," Kortup said, still standing, whereas Belayla had sat down when she entered the room.
"Lady Belayla," King Blains' voice was harsh, "have you no respect for your king that you sit in his presence?"
Her green eyes had taken on amber flecks of fire. "Respect?" she questioned, her voice smooth, low and sultry. Belayla slowly stood and glided across the room to stand on the opposite side of the king's desk. She leaned forward and braced her fingertips on the edge of his massive, heavy wooden desk. "You called my father here, who has on numerous occasions defended your life with his own, and demand my hand in marriage without the benefit of a formally offered contract first, and you inquire about respect?" She smiled sweetly, despite the flames dancing in her eyes. "I propose the proper contract be presented and signed, then we will talk of respect, sire," she said, her eyes level with his, her voice gradually becoming cold.
"I could have you executed for this," Blains railed.
"But you won't. Now, how would that appear to your subjects who are already poised on the verge of civil war?" Belayla questioned. "Shall we discuss the contract, sire?"
King Blains' face turned red, the veins in his neck popping out and he coughed. Belayla knew the signs and realized the rumors to be true. He was not a well man. Actually, he was dying. The king sat wearily. She straightened, smiling demurely and returned to her chair. She saw her father show shock for the first time in her life, and he abruptly sat himself.
No one spoke for a few moments. Belayla would have smiled at the king as he drank a glass of brandy before he called his clerks into the room, but that might have been more than his ego could have handled.
"Prepare to draw up a contract of marriage," Blains instructed the clerks, all the while staring at Belayla, who in return stared back, never flinching. What have I gotten into? Blains remembered her father's warning.
"Lady Belayla, what conditions do you name?" Blains asked her, his tone little more than civil. She began to name her conditions, which included the things she had told her father and much more. Belayla glanced over at her father and the dubious look he gave her.
"Stop!" King Blains roared. The clerks turned to look at their king, fear in their eyes.
Belayla smiled at him innocently. "My lord?" she asked. "Is there a problem?" Her face was a study of innocence.
"Leave us! All of you, except the lady," Blains ordered.
"As her father..." Kortup started to say.
"I said everyone except the lady," Blains growled and the room cleared.
"You have gone too far, Belayla," he threatened once they were alone.
"My lord wishes an heir?" Belayla asked, her eyes level with Blains.
"I can force you to marry me without any of this." Blains indicated the half-written contract.
"It will not be lawful," she said coolly. "Your people will not accept it."
"How do know you this?" he demanded.
She smiled knowingly. "I know. It is enough. The heir who will sit on your throne will still be in diapers, possibly. Your Majesty, you are not well. Therefore, I will rule this world. Do you want a weakling to raise your heir?"
"I do not know what makes you think I am not well, Lady. I shall prove my stamina on our wedding night," Blains said aggressively, coming around the desk.
"You will not touch me, sir!" Belayla leveled her eyes on him. "Now, or ever, just as the contract states. I will retain my own residence and the only way you will gain an heir from me is by medical impregnation."
"I shall choose another!" Blains declared.
"That is your prerogative, milord," she said. "It would be fine with me."
Blains regarded her for a long while, knowing she had him. He needed the best candidate to bear his child and, she was correct, he was not well. His doctors had already told him he was dying. He did not have time to play games. Blains drew a deep sigh. Did it matter? He rarely visited his harem anymore except to watch anyway. Medical impregnation might be best since he was not sure he could father a child any other way.
"Very well, Belayla, I will concede to your terms." Blains called the clerks and her father back into his study and the contract was completed and legally signed.
After Belayla and her father left, however, there was a clause added to the contract as though it had been there all along. Blains laughed quietly.
"What did you say to King Blains to convince him to go through with your terms, daughter?" Kortup asked.
"I pointed out that he wasn't getting any younger, and he needed an heir before he was too old to see the child out of diapers. I also reminded him that his people were on the verge of civil war." Belayla laughed.
"Daughter, your bravado will not save you every time, you know. One day you will meet a man who will not tolerate it," Kortup warned.
"I will deal with that day when it happens." Belayla shrugged.
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