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queens," I began. "Your Grace for a duchess, My Lady for lesser nobles. Of course, there haven't been any queens for some time now, and I only know that much from reading books. We don't have kings anymore, either," I added, hoping that last statement would prompt her to tell me about her own king, and it did.
    "We do not often have male rulers here," Scalia said.
    "Their tempers are too volatile." She gazed past me, looking at Wazak for a long moment. "We queens have only consorts."
    "No king, then?"
    "Only if a queen does not produce a female child,"
    she said with a nod toward Zealon, "and it is rare that they do not." She paused for a moment, possibly considering my original question. "You may call me Queen, Queen Scalia, or Scalia," she said with a casual wave.
    "It matters not. Which name do you prefer?"
    "I—I'm not sure I..."
    Zealon giggled again, and Scalia silenced her with a wave of her hand.
    "Your name," Scalia said. "Kyra, Aramis, or Kyra Aramis?"
    "Oh, you mean me," I said, feeling very stupid.
    "Kyra."
    She nodded, first at me and then toward Wazak in what must have been a dismissal, for he left us, closing the door behind him. Motioning for me to take a seat at the table, she said, "We will have food then, Kyra."
    Someone must have been listening on the other side of the door just behind her, because it swung open immediately, and some odd-looking aliens came in with laden trays—mostly fruit, thank God! I wondered if these were some of her "exotic slaves." One was squat and toadlike, but instead of hopping, it had legs that bent oddly at the knee, making it waddle a bit. The other was tall and spindly with long fingers that appeared to have suction cups at the tips, like an octopus. With round, bulbous eyes and a fishlike mouth, he was pretty ugly, but if his fingers were any indication, he must have been an outstanding waiter—I doubted he ever dropped much of anything. I also noted that, like the Darconians, neither of them wore any clothing.
    Having set down the trays, the taller one asked Scalia if she needed anything else.
    She denied needing anything further, but looked at me, smiling slightly—at least, I thought it was a smile— and asked, "And you?"
    "A really big glass of water," I gasped.
    Princess Zealon laughed out loud. "You see, Mother,"
    she said gleefully, "I told you so!"
    "Yes, you did," Scalia said with a nod.
    Mystified, my gaze darted back and forth between the two of them. "What?"
    "My daughter has been studying humans since we decided to look for a teacher on Earth," Scalia explained.
    "She said that water would be the first thing you would ask for, and she was quite correct."
    "I'm glad I could live up to your expectations," I said graciously. "So, tell me, Princess, what else have you learned about humans?"
    Zealon sat up a bit straighter, as though preparing to recite a poem. "You are mammals, not egg layers, so you have hair, rather than scales, your skin burns in the sun, so you wear clothes, and you are omnivorous, but if you eat meat, you cook it first."
    "Well, that just about sums it up," I said, silently thanking God that at least someone had done her homework, and I would never be offered wriggling worms for dinner! "Very good, Princess. Later on, I'll have to ask you some questions about your planet, because when I did my research, I wasn't able to find out very much."
    Scalia smiled—I was sure this time, though in all honesty, it looked more like a grimace—as she patted her daughter on the head. "Zealon will be able to answer all of your questions, for she is quite intelligent. She will make an excellent queen one day."
    I was glad I had Zealon to talk with, because I had always felt so much more at ease with children. They generally don't bother to hide their feelings; if they like you, you'll know it, just as you will know if they don't.
    It is so much more difficult with adults, who are often deceptive, no matter where they come from.
    "We're getting a