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I report out here?”
    “Make it quick,” Jayems said, burning with curiosity. What a racket! It sounded like an entire raiding party, not one lone woman.
    “It started out with her banging on pots and pans,” the steward said. “She looked spooked when we burst in, so I offered to get her a drum set.” He winced, as if regretting that idea. “It got out of hand from there. Next, she asked what other instruments we had. I offered to bring her some samples. Somehow the technicians figured out how to make her music play over your sound system … well, she’s been very busy.”
    He’d only been gone two hours. How had she gotten so much done? Jayems nodded at them to open the door, wondering what kind of mayhem he’d turned loose in his life. A song was starting up, and he walked in to find his betrothed dressed in black pants, stripped down to her black halter top and gleaming with sweat as she banged away on the drums, singing, “You’ve got to be cruel to be kind,” at volume.
    The first surprise was that she was very, very good. He wouldn’t have known just by listening through the door. The second was that she had a black tribal tattoo of a wolf on her left arm. A rebellious acknowledgement of who she was? He wouldn’t have expected it of her.
    To spare his men’s sensitive ears, he shut the doors. She saw him, but ignored his presence while she finished her song. Then she turned it down and looked at him. “I was in a band in my spare time,” she said by way of explanation.
    He looked around at the furniture shoved up against the wall, piled with instruments. “We’ll set up a music room for you.”
    Her teeth flashed white. “I could dig this princess gig.”
    “So glad to please you,” he said dryly. “If you’re finished for the night?” He gave orders to move the instruments to a room down the hall. As soon as his furniture was returned to normal, he claimed a seat and ordered a stiff drink. A cocoa was brought for Rihlia, who flopped down on the sofa opposite. Her musical interlude seemed to have relaxed her, and he had a little more insight as to how she’d survived the build up of pressure without resorting to the change.
    She took a sip of her cocoa. “Mmm! Chocolate mint. You remembered,” she said,
    looking at him in surprise. Perhaps she was unused to such gestures.
    He inclined his head. Your friend will be arriving tonight. Perhaps you would like to change your clothes to greet her?”
    She laughed and brushed her loose hair off her face. “She’s seen me in worse.”
    “Yes, but perhaps she would see you in a position of power if you dressed the part? It may reassure her. I wouldn’t want her to think you were mistreated.” He didn’t care what the human thought, as they’d never see her after tonight, but he wanted to emphasize Rihlia’s position to her. The sooner he started creating a gap in their relationship, the better. Rihlia belonged here and the human did not.
    Rihlia stared at him for a long moment. “Okay. I’ll dress up … if you tell me why you’d rather marry me than that little Nilla wafer you just saw.”
    He thought about putting her off and decided to be blunt instead. A small part of him was angry for her lack of interest, both in him and in Nilla’s pain. How could he bind himself to such a brutally self-centered woman? “There are many reasons. Political--
    you’re the daughter of the former lord here, a powerful man. Legally, as your betrothed, I’m bound to see to your welfare, and your welfare in this situation includes the protection of marriage to me. There are those who will not welcome you back. Religious-
    -we were bound together by the priests, who spent a great deal of time in prayer before sanctioning the match. I believe that we were preordained to be together, and disobedience to that divine decree is sin.”
    She stared at him over her cocoa. “Or maybe my escaping to Earth was divine deliverance for us both? Maybe you messed it