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The Empress' New Clothes Page 19
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“Oh my god!” Kyra cried hysterically, clapping a hand to her forehead. “I’m laying eggs. Geris, I’m laying eggs!”
Dak saw his nee’ka’s eyes widen in sympathetic, frenzied horror. He waylaid her inevitable scream by clamping a hand over her mouth again.
“Oh my god!” Kyra screamed, clutching onto Zor’s free arm. Images of the movie Alien ran through her mind. Suddenly, she was more than shocked and frightened, she was out and out terrified. “Will they be human?” she wailed.
Wide-eyed, Geris rapidly flapped her hands up and down and screamed behind Dak’s hand. Then finally, unable to bear any more surprises, her eyes rolled back into her head and she fell limp against her husband, fainting in his arms.
“Praise the goddess,” Dak muttered. Shaking his head, he picked his wee nee’ka up and cradled her in his arms. “She was nigh unto driving me daft.”
“Will they be human?” Kyra cried out again.
“Nay,” Zor boasted arrogantly, his jaw rigid with the pride of the Q’an Tal line. “My life-force makes naught but Trystonni.”
Kil clapped Zor on the back, careful not to disturb the pani sac his brother was clutching reverently to his chest. “I think what she means is will the babe look like us, not like a pugmuff, or a heeka beast, or some other creature.”
“Oh, aye.” Zor waved dismissively.
Kyra let out a relieved breath even as she sucked in a pained one. “Oh god,” she moaned, “the blue stuff is coming again!”
“Kil!” Zor bellowed.
“Aye?”
“Catch it.”
* * * * *
Two hours later, Geris sat perched on the freshly made royal bed next to Kyra and Zor, crooning to the baby girls each parent held in their arms. Dak stood behind her, grinning. “My nieces are adorable!” she exclaimed, rubbing a soft finger over the thatch of fire-berry curls atop both of their heads.
Kyra, who was still marveling over the fact that she’d given birth to two beautiful daughters after having carried them no more than a few weeks, shook her head and grinned down at her babies. “They are. Just look at them,” she boasted like a true mother, a tear forming in her eye.
“They are sweet perfection,” Zor admitted on a contented sigh, rubbing his chin gently atop little Zora’s fluffy head.
“Let me hold her, brother.” Kil plopped down next to Geris and held out his large hands.
Zor scowled, fixing a lordly look on his brother. “I just now managed to wrestle her away from her auntie, dunce. Besides, wee Zora needs spend time with her papa.” He glanced over to Kyra and frowned. “Now that I think on it, wee Zara has not had her fill of me just yet. Nee’ka, give her back.”
Kyra huffed, throwing her husband an outraged look that made him back down immediately.
Geris, on the other hand, wasn’t taking no for an answer. She figured guilt would work where Zor’s autocratic orders had not. “After all the worry you put me through, girl, the least you can do is let me hold Zara for a minute.”
Kyra rolled her eyes and grinned. “The last time you said that, you hogged Zora for an hour.”
Zor grunted his agreement, but didn’t look up from the baby in question.
“It wasn’t just me,” Geris regally intoned, “Dak held her too.”
“Aye,” Dak waxed sentimentally, embracing Geris from behind. “When I cradled wee Zora in my arms, it made me want to take my nee’ka back to the vesha hides and not let her up ‘til she hatches.”
Kil cleared his throat. “Must I remind everyone, that I haven’t held either one of my nieces yet?” He rolled his eyes. “By the goddess, Zor would not even let me hold the pani sacs whilst they incubated for the hour after the hatching. He held onto them like a miser hoarding credits.”
Zor snorted arrogantly. “A man has the right to hold the fruit his fertile loins produced.”
Kyra groaned, rolling her eyes at his egotism.
“You see there!” Geris used the opportunity to her advantage, gently snatching tiny Zara up into her arms. Kyra smiled, giving up. “Her uncle Kil hasn’t held her yet,” Geris crooned as she cradled the baby in her arms, making cooing sounds.
“’Tis odd, Geris, but I’m still not holding a babe.” Grinning at his sister-in-law’s antics, Kil scooted closer to her, then rubbed the tuft of soft hair atop Zara’s head. Geris smiled up to Kil, then showed him how to hold a tiny baby before placing his niece in his massive arms. Zara took to the gruff warrior immediately, cooing.
Kil smiled down to his niece. “They’ve both got our eyes, brothers,” he informed the Q’an Tal men boastfully.
“Aye,” Dak answered, crouching down to stroke Zara’s cheek. “And Kyra’s fire-berry hair.”
Zor groaned as if pained. “By the goddess, I shall be batting off warriors left and right when they come of age.”
“They needs must wed with only lesser kings of ample means,” Kil announced with an incline of his head.
“Aye,” Dak groused, “no dandy high lords, scarce able to control their own sectors.”
“Please.” Kyra rolled her eyes and groaned. “The girls are two hours old!”
“It never hurts,” Zor said stiffly, “to prepare for these things well in advance.”
“Aye,” Kil and Dak grumbled in agreement.
“This is amazing.” Geris leaned closer to Kil and bent her neck to place a kiss atop Zara’s tiny head. “Where we come from, women carry their babies nine months before giving birth.”
“Nine months!” Kil grimaced. “By the goddess, the eggs must be exceedingly large.”
“We don’t hatch eggs,” Geris said haughtily. “We give birth to pre-incubated babies.” She puckered her lips into a frown. “Though in retrospect I admit,” she conceded, “that I prefer it this way.”
Kil grunted. “’Tis best you do. Dak will set you to hatching the soonest for a certainty.” His lips kicked up into an ironic grin. “After seeing you in action at Kyra’s hatching, I wouldn’t miss yours for all the kingdoms in Tryston.” Kil only laughed when Dak groaned and Geris shot him a “very funny” look.
“Speaking of the way we do things on earth…” Kyra bit her lip, looking first to one daughter and then to the other. Alarm beat through her as she considered something she hadn’t thought of before. Grabbing at one of her nipples and tweaking it, she panicked when her suspicion was confirmed.
“Girl, what are you doin’?” Geris asked.
“I don’t have any milk in my breasts,” Kyra murmured, horrified.
“Oh no!” Geris patted her on the knee, then looked to Zor. “How will she feed them?”
“Milk?” Zor looked up from Zora, his brow furrowed. “What’s this of milk?”
“I said,” Kyra repeated, “I don’t have any milk in my breasts to feed the girls with.”
“Yeeck!” Dak shuddered, his lips curling in disgust. “I should pray to the goddess not.”
Kil looked horrified. “You mean to say that when you bear the fruit of a human man, your breasts gorge with milk?” When the women both nodded, he shook his head. “By the sands, that is nigh unto disgusting.”
“It’s nutritious!” Kyra screeched, affronted. Still worried, she turned to Zor. “How will I feed our daughters then?”
Zor rolled his eyes as if the answer was obvious. “The same as what they suckled from in your womb before hatching. Sweet juice.”
“Sweet juice?”
“Aye.”
Geris’s lips pinched into one of her famous scowls. “You mean that glowing blue junk that came pourin’ out of her like something in a horror movie?”
“Aye.”
When Zor didn’t expound upon his answer, Kyra waved a hand toward him. “They don’t breast feed from me then?”
“Of course you will breast feed them, nee’ka.” Zor shook his head and sighed, as if he was being forced to turn away from the important task of cuddling Zora to explain the way of things to a simpleton. “But when you bear the fruit of a
Trystonni warrior,” he boasted proudly, “your breasts gorge with sweet juice, not with milk.” He made a face, mirroring his brothers’ reactions. “Who in the sands ever heard of such a blasted thing? Milk—yeeck.”
Kyra and Geris shared a puzzled frown. Huffing and out of patience, Kyra crossed her arms over her breasts and scowled at her husband. “When does this sweet juice come in, Zor? I don’t have any.”
“Do not fear, nee’ka. Zora and Zara are my firsts, yet have I heard it said by other warriors ‘tis usually a few hours past the hatching before the mani’s breasts gorge.”
Mani—Trystonni for mommy, Kyra thought. “But it will come in?”
“For a certainty.” Kil nodded succinctly. Then casting his gaze to Zor, he licked his lips and grinned. “How I envy you, brother.”
Zor and Dak chuckled lecherously, causing Kyra and Geris to look at each other and furrow their brows. “Why?” Geris asked bluntly.
Kil wiggled his eyebrows mischievously, his eyes flicking over Geris’s form. “’Tis said that a warrior has a difficult time not mounting his nee’ka every hour of the day whilst she’s gorged of the sweet juice.”
Geris clapped a hand to her forehead. “Y’all are giving me a headache.”
“Ditto,” Kyra sniffed. “Can nobody around here give a straight answer? All this talking in riddles is nonsense.”
Kil’s lips curled wryly. “Look at yourself in a holo-mirror in a few hours time and half your riddle will be solved.”
“And the other half?”
“Hmm,” Kil murmured. “’Tis up to my brother to show you.”
Chapter 25
Kyra stood with her hands on her hips, tapping her sandaled foot with much irritation, as Geris rolled around on the royal high bed, pointing at Kyra’s breasts and howling with laughter. “It’s not funny, Ger!” Scowling at her best friend, she huffed. “Now that the girls are asleep, I’d like to go to the great hall for breakfast.” She raised a fire-berry brow. “If you can control your laughter that long.”
“Oh my.” Geris wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes as she sat up. “I’ve already eaten.”
“Well I haven’t.”
Her face threatening to break into another grin, Geris forcefully puckered her lips into a frown. “Has Zor seen”—she gestured toward Kyra’s chest—“those yet?”
“No,” Kyra answered tightly. “My sweet juice came in a little late. We fed the girls taka juice last night.”
“It mighta come in late, honey,” Geris replied with a grin, “but when it came in, it came in with a bang!”
Kyra crossed her arms under her mammoth bazooms and frowned. “Yes, well, the girls seem to like the sweet juice better than the taka.”
“Thank God for that.” Geris shook her head, growing serious. “I’d hate to see how big those things get if you didn’t have Zora and Zara to relieve you a few times a day.”
Kyra grimaced, not caring to ponder the truth behind that musing. Her breasts were the size of medium watermelons as it was. She couldn’t imagine them being any bigger. Suddenly feeling embarrassed by the thought of anybody seeing them, she sat down on the bed next to Geris and bit her lip. “Perhaps I’ll just have my breakfast sent up here,” she said quietly.
Shamefaced for laughing at Kyra’s obvious discomfort, Geris patted her on the knee. “I’m sorry I teased you, baby. Don’t let your breasts dictate your life.”
“Oh god.” Kyra’s head dropped into her hands. “I look like that stripper our friend Mike used to date. What was her stage name again?”
Geris nibbled at her lower lip. “Nancy Knockers.”
“Oh god.”
“Perhaps this was what Kil was talking about last night.” Geris smoothed Kyra’s hair back from her face. “Maybe Zor will really like these, uh, changes.”
Kyra’s head shot up. “You think so?” she asked hopefully.
“It wouldn’t surprise me on Tryston.”
“True.” Kyra nodded, then waved her hand toward Geris, wanting to change the subject. “Are you sure you don’t want to come down for breakfast?”
“No, you go ahead on.” Geris sighed. “Dak wants us to leave for Ti Q’won tomorrow, so I need to pack.”
“That’s a moon, right? How cool! You’re the queen of a moon, Ger!” Kyra scrunched her face up thoughtfully. “Which moon is yours?”
Geris took a deep breath, then blew it out. “It’s the low-hanging green one.”
Kyra reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Are you nervous?”
“A little.”
“Don’t be.” Kyra studied Geris’s face. Her best friend looked more than a little nervous, she looked very nervous. “I’ll get Zor to bring us there for a visit real soon.”
“You promise?”
“Definitely.”
Geris blew out a relieved breath. “Good.” Patting Kyra on the knee, she made to stand up and leave. “You go eat, I’ll go pack, and we’ll hang out later.”
Kyra grinned. “You got it.”
* * * * *
Zor sat pompously at the raised table in the great hall, still feeling arrogant over the fact that his life-force had been so potent. Not only had it beget two babes, but his wee panis were both females. On a planet where female hatchlings were a rarity, ‘twas often a boast among warriors with girl babes that their seed was the superior to other warriors. Indeed, not even the almighty Q’an Tal line had sired a female hatchling in nigh unto a hundred Yessat years.
“Look at him, brother.” Speaking to Dak, Kil gestured toward Zor. “You would think he was the first warrior to ever sire a female pani.”
“Aye.” Dak crossed his arms over his chest and grinned. “’Twill not surprise me does he have his staff gilded after this feat.”
“Harrumph.” Zor waved arrogantly. “Though it deserves to be for a certainty, I think my nee’ka prefers it the way it is.”
Kil rolled his eyes, groaning. “By the sands, you are driving me daft with your claims to superior prowess.”
“Two.” Zor held up two fingers, emphasizing his words. “Two female panis. And,” he sniffed, “they are not even identical, not of the same sac.” He sat up straighter in his seat, telekinetically summoning his crystal fork-spoon. “Now tell me whose seed can boast of that, besides the High King of Tryston and the Emperor of Trek Mi Q’an?” Throwing his brothers a haughty look and swiveling his neck back and forth in such a way as he had learned from Geris, he said, “I am waiting.”
Kil and Dak merely rolled their eyes and groaned.
“Harrumph.” Zor stabbed at a fire-berry fruit and raised it to his lips. “As I thought.”
Dak grinned at Kil as he raised his goblet of taka juice and took a large swallow. Sighing lustily, he asked, “Did Kyra’s sweet juice ever come in? She seemed worried about it last moon-rising.”
“Hopefully by now,” Zor replied in earnest. “I had to leave our apartments early to go bark at the crystal guildsman this morn. Finally, will he and his craftsmen have that promised suite ready in the south wing for the young bucks.”
Kil grunted. “’Tis about time. I will have to leave to see to my colonies the soonest and would like the warriors to come choose their servants anon.”
“For a certainty would the bucks like it as well.” Dak shook his head. “I overheard Gio complain to Cam that if he did not share of Muta’s charms with him, he feared his rod would fall off.”
Zor chuckled. “The master guildsman did vow their suite would be ready by this very moon-rising.”
“Thank the goddess,” Kil grumbled. “I’ve enough of my own servants to see to without listening to the constant lusty petitions of the new ones.”
“You would even give up Myn without qualm?” Zor asked bemusedly.
“Aye.” Kil rolled his eyes. “She can all but put luscious Muta to shame.”
Dak’s eyebrows shot up. He turned to Zor. “I did not know you gave Myn to Kil.”
“Aye,” Zor answered dismissively.
“Kyra would not have her in our suites.”
“Where is your nee’ka anyway?” Kil asked. “I’ve yet to see her this morn.”
Zor shrugged. “I sent Cam to fetch her, which of course, the randy warrior was more than eager to do.”
Dak chuckled wryly. “Think you ‘tis true that a nee’ka’s breasts gorge bigger than moosoos whilst suckling panis?” He shook his head. “I fear Cam will spill his life-force at the very sight of Kyra if it is.”
Zor grunted.
“Is it true?” Kil sat up straighter in his chair, licking his lips unconsciously as he regarded Zor.
“How would I know?” Zor mused, his voice a rumble. “Zora and Zara are my first hatchlings.” Pondering the matter somewhat, he shook his head in the negative. “Leastways, I doubt it. ‘Twould be a foul trick of the goddess Aparna did a nee’ka’s breasts nigh unto burst whilst her Sacred Mate is left without his pleasures for the first fortnight of it.”
Kil shuddered. “I do not know how you will manage without coupling for a full two weeks.”
“Kefas,” Dak grinned. “Zor will be the cleanest High King ever to rule Tryston.”
* * * * *
Kyra and her breasts walked over to the bedchamber door to open it up for Cam. He was knocking loudly, calling from the other side of it that the High King desired her company over the morning repast.
Sporting a transparent white qi’ka in honor of Dak and Geris’s last night in Sand City, Kyra stopped long enough to do a quick inspection of the image she presented in the holo-mirror. Good grief.
Kyra didn’t know whether to laugh or cry over her new, and thankfully temporary, watermelon jugs. She had always been chesty, but this was on the far side of obscene. Her breasts could put Ana Nicole Smith to shame. And her cleavage—good lord! As if it wasn’t enough of a show walking around in a qi’ka that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, she now had enough cleavage to drown ten men in.
Cam knocked louder, snapping Kyra out of her musings. Sighing, she walked quickly to the chamber doors, not wanting the girls to get jarred awake from their naps before she had a chance to eat. Throwing the doors open wide, she smiled up to Cam.