“I do have some secrets. They aren’t particularly terrible, but… Would you like to hear them?”

  Eagerly, Juniper nodded.

  “I’m not an Imperial captain. This isn’t really my ship.”

  “What?” Juniper sat forward, stunned. “But… what?”

  “I came across the Stellerion shortly after I left my home world in disgrace. She was a derelict, drifting aimlessly outside Imperial space,” Captain Marrex answered. “The window to claim her expired; therefore, she’s legally mine according to the Havian Charter.”

  “Do you know what happened?”

  “A catastrophic systems failure killed everyone on board,” said the Ghelyxian matter-of-factly.

  Dismayed, Juniper looked down at his outfit. No wonder every room had closets full of clothes. He’d found it odd that so much had been left behind in what he’d assumed was a change of command.

  “All right,” he said calmly. “But why are you masquerading as an Imperial captain?”

  Captain Marrex snorted and wrinkled his nose in what Juniper suddenly realized was the Ghelyxian version of a smile. “The uniform fit well enough, and I find it handy in business dealings.”

  “But the penalty for impersonating an Imperial officer is death.”

  “I know,” replied the captain.

  Juniper stared mutely at him. He knows and doesn’t care—what happened to you, Captain?

  The captain folded his arms on the table, leaning forward. “Juniper, what do you know about my species?”

  Juniper pondered what he’d read about Ghelyxians. “Well… ah, you live on a ringed planet that has a tiny population, and your system of government is a monarchy… and Ghelyxians are considered the third-highest-ranking species in the Empire after the Hoch and The Elite.”

  Captain Marrex tapped his black claws on the table surface as he scrutinized Juniper. “Is that all?”

  Juniper’s face flushed, and he shook his head.

  “It’s all right… I won’t bite. You know why I look the way I do?”

  “If your species doesn’t find a mate by the time puberty starts, a genetic switch is thrown and your DNA becomes corrupted,” Juniper answered quietly.

  “You’ve done your reading.” The captain picked up his cup of leb and took a sip, his pointed black tongue coming up to lick the white foam from his furry lip. “We call it ‘the curse.’ ”

  “Oh.” Juniper frowned. “Is that why you left in disgrace? Because you’re cursed?” He’d been frustrated by the lack of information on Ghelyxian culture in the database. There were numerous entries missing from every section—historical, social, political, even biological—and all the AIs could tell him was that the captain had been ‘very angry’ one day and erased part of it.

  “On Ghelyx, commoners who are cursed must live out their lives in special reservations and are treated somewhat like the lepers of Old Earth’s past. However, members of the royal family in the same condition are expected to commit their degraded bodies to the holy flame. In reality, there hasn’t been a royal burned in generations. Instead, they’re banished from the world itself and forbidden from entering Imperial space or having any dealings with Imperial entities,” Captain Marrex said in a dry tone. “They’re effectively dead because no one ever hears from them again.”

  Juniper could only stare at the captain for a few beats, eyes wide with the sudden conclusion his brain had leapt to.

  “Holy shit… You’re the prince, aren’t you?”

  The captain squinted at him, tilting his head. He wrinkled his nose. “Prince? Why not a lord or a duke?” he asked, sounding amused. “That’s rather wild speculation.”

  “I read about dukes and barons and viscounts and whatever on Ghelyx, and just one single entry about a prince being born, which stuck out for me. It was strange because there should have been more about him, right? The birth of a prince or princess is cause for great celebration… but there is absolutely nothing mentioned of him ever again. No naming announcement and, if he died, no record of his death. He just… disappeared. That’s what you deleted from the database, isn’t it? You.”

  Snorting, Captain Marrex nodded. “I hope you’ve never been accused of being slow.”

  Juniper smiled timidly. “No, sir. Um, Your Highness…”

  “Just Marrex.”

  “All right… Marrex,” Juniper said, liking the way the name felt on his tongue—he realized he’d never said it out loud before. For a bit, he just sat quietly, digesting what he’d learned while the captain gazed at him unblinking. “So,” Juniper said at long last, “if you’re a prince, why didn’t you find a mate? I thought royal marriages were arranged?”

  Marrex nodded. “They are, but my parents doted on me far more than they should have—I was their only child after what had been a very difficult gestation. Every eligible female and male was paraded in front of me, but I didn’t think they were worthy. No one was ever attractive or intelligent enough for me. I was spoiled, vain, and arrogant. Any potential mate had to meet my ridiculous standards, and my parents kept indulging me… until it was too late. I woke up one morning and realized that I’d ignored the first signs of puberty. It was only a few days later that I started to degenerate. I kept it from them at first, but”—Marrex gave a low growl and turned to stare at his faint reflection in the viewport glass—“it’s not something you can hide for very long.”

  “That’s terrible,” Juniper said, resting his chin on his hand. “They must have been devastated. I’m sorry.”

  Marrex turned back to Juniper with a bitter laugh. “Not devastated enough to let me stay.” Closing his eyes, Marrex bowed his head for a moment. “But that’s in the past. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

  “Isn’t there a cure? Treatment? Gene therapy?”

  The captain lifted his head, shaking it. “Not once the change has started. There is actually a preventative—a treatment for children—but it’s illegal. Ghelyxians value tradition over everything, even common sense.”

  “So, that means you’re stuck as you are, even if you do find a mate?” Juniper asked quietly.

  “Yes. I’m cursed to live out my life like this. Shunned and feared. In the underworld markets, do you know what I’m known as? Marrex the Monster.”

  Grimacing in sympathy, Juniper moved closer, taking the seat next to the captain.

  Marrex stared at him, unmoving for a few seconds, then gave an angry-sounding snort. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Marrex growled. “How is it that you always look at me? Doesn’t my ugliness repel you?”

  Juniper shook his head firmly.

  Marrex leaned closer and bared his fangs, but Juniper held his ground and placed his hand on Marrex’s muscular forearm. The big Ghelyxian responded to the touch by freezing in place, his eyes comically wide.

  “I don’t think you’re ugly,” Juniper confessed.

  “You… don’t?”

  “No.” Juniper smiled. “Well, you could use a good brushing,” he said, stroking the blood-red fur of Marrex’s arm. “But ugly? Not at all.”

  “Is there something wrong with your eyes?” Marrex sounded incredulous. He stared down at Juniper’s hand, his nostrils flaring, but he didn’t move away.

  “Nothing’s wrong with my eyes. I just have different tastes than most men.”

  Marrex shook his head, his breathing a bit laboured, then he lifted his eyes to Juniper’s and frowned, opened his mouth to say something else, closed it, then shook his head again. Slowly, he pulled his arm out of Juniper’s grasp.

  “What is it?” Juniper asked.

  “I don’t quite believe you.”

  “I guess I don’t know if I would believe me either,” he said. “But… believe me or not, it’s your prerogative. I’m just telling it like it is.”

  After staring at Juniper for a moment longer, Marrex looked away, rising to his feet.

  “It’s getting late. Thank you for joining me for supper.”

  “Thank you for inviting me,” Juniper replied, disappointed Marrex was already done with him—he’d hoped they’d keep talking. Juniper stared at the captain’s broad back as he walked away. Well, that wasn’t all he’d been hoping for.

  A little jittery from the leb, Juniper wasn’t ready to turn in yet. “Marrex,” he said, and the Ghelyxian turned back to him with a questioning grunt. “Can I please call home?”

  “Ah,” Marrex said with a nod. “Of course.”

  “What is it?” Juniper asked, startled by the captain’s cynical tone. Damn.

  “Yes. Make the call. I don’t care,” Marrex said brusquely. “VAL can set up the encryption.” He turned again and left the room.

  “Thank you!” Juniper called after him, trying not to feel hurt over the abrupt end of the evening. He’d been hoping to leave it on a friendly note… not this cold dismissal. But at least he had permission to call his father.

  A little while later, Juniper wandered the corridors, arms wrapped around himself, waiting for VAL to finish whatever he was doing so that Juniper could make the call to Terra Deux. S1N walked silently at his side, glancing up at him from time to time. Finally, the AI broke the silence.

  “So. You’re a xenophile. That’s interesting,” S1N said conversationally.

  Juniper frowned down at the cat.

  “I really thought you were just buttering up the captain so you could call home,” SIN continued. “But I saw your face… you really are hot for the boss, aren’t you?”

  “You were spying?”

  “Of course, I was. You know this is just an interface, right? I’m actually everywhere all the time. Like God, only more charming,” S1N replied, the tip of his tail twitching from side to side in time to his steps.

  “Well, you’re everywhere except for when you tried to figure out chicken noodle soup,” Juniper pointed out with a grin.

  “Embarrassing. Don’t think I won’t get back at you.”

  “But… what about VAL? He didn’t know I was in the garden until I touched a flower and tripped the alarm. Isn’t VAL everywhere too?”

  “Dear VAL is pushing four hundred. He’s an antique, really. Just like this ship. It’ll be a wonder if VAL manages to get the long-range communicator to work. Captain Marrex only ever uses the short-range when he’s looking to sell the junk we find.”

  “Oh,” Juniper said softly.

  “What is it?” S1N rose in the air until he was perched weightlessly on Juniper’s shoulder.

  “It’s just really sad, that’s all. The captain’s been alone for so long.”

  “It’s his own fault for being such an arrogant prat,” said the AI.

  “I know, but… he’s suffered enough, don’t you think?”

  S1N paused with his pink tongue sticking out, his grooming interrupted. “I do, actually,” he said gently. He fixed Juniper with his eyes narrowed. “Can I offer a piece of advice?”

  “Sure.”

  “You know the captain thinks you only agreed to dine with him so you could make the call.”

  Juniper nodded. “I’m an idiot for bringing it up when I did.”

  “So—don’t make the call. Not yet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, ask if you can join the captain for another meal. Put off calling your family for a while. They’ve been waiting seventeen years to hear from you… another few days or weeks won’t make a difference, will it?”

  Wrinkling his brow, Juniper pondered. “I guess they can wait.” He nodded. Juniper really wanted to call home, but gaining the captain’s trust had become important to him. “You’re right. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” S1N said, jumping down to the floor.

  Just then, VAL’s shiny pale-blue face appeared in the air in front of Juniper, smiling wide. “It wasn’t easy, but I have long-range communications online and I’m running an advanced encryption protocol on—”

  “Thank you, but I’m not going to need it for now.”

  “What?” The AI’s face went a sickly lime green, and the smile disappeared. “What happened? Did the captain change his mind? I’m certain I can ask him—”

  “No, it’s ok. Really. I’m just not ready to call them is all,” Juniper said, trying to reassure the crestfallen AI. “But thank you, VAL. It’s very much appreciated.”

  “You’re welcome,” VAL replied, sounding mystified.

  “Actually, there is something you can do for me right now.”

  “Of course, Juniper. How can I help?”

  “You can go find Juniper something really skimpy to wear,” S1N said, and Juniper shot him a look of exasperation. The cat just stared back at him, his whiskers trembling with obvious amusement.

  “VAL,” Juniper said, turning back to the AI. “I would like you to ask Captain Marrex if he would do me the pleasure of dining with me tomorrow night.”

  Marrex stepped from the shadows as quietly as he could and knelt by Juniper’s bed. In sleep, the Human looked utterly serene, something Marrex envied. Slowly, he reached out and moved a few strands of hair from Juniper’s face, then held his breath when the young man’s brow wrinkled. After a moment, his features smoothed out again, and Marrex sat back on his heels and sighed. Why would Juniper ask to dine with him again? It had to be a lie… a trick. But how could someone who slept so peacefully be so cruel?

  Bowing his head, Marrex clenched his teeth against the mournful howl lodged in his chest, wishing he could ascertain Juniper’s intentions. However, be they good or bad, Marrex knew was powerless to resist him.

  Chapter 9

  Confessions

  Marrex stared at the bowl of soup in front of him, the warm steam rising from it fragrant and unfamiliar, though not unpleasant.

  He lifted his eyes to the young man seated across from him, waiting for an explanation.

  Juniper smiled and stirred his own soup. “It’s chicken noodle soup.”

  With a grunt, Marrex picked up his spoon and prodded at the noodles floating in the broth. He carefully lifted a mouthful and slurped it. It was salty and vaguely meaty.

  “So?” Juniper asked hopefully.

  “Not bad,” Marrex conceded, spooning up some more.

  They’d been dining together for the last two weeks, taking turns choosing their communal meals. Though conversation was still somewhat stilted and awkward at times, Marrex found himself greatly looking forward to their times together. He eyed the young man as he tucked into his own bowl with enjoyment. Juniper had yet to contact his family, and that puzzled him… it was almost as if the young man honestly enjoyed Marrex’s company.

  This evening, Juniper was dressed in translucent yellow silk that left little to the imagination. Earlier, when they had been standing, Marrex had had to force himself to stop trying to get glimpses of Juniper’s obvious nudity beneath the yellow folds.

  “You’re quiet tonight,” Juniper said.

  Marrex grunted again and shrugged.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Marrex mulled over what he was planning to say. He was unaccustomed to feeling so nervous.

  “You can tell me,” Juniper said, reaching across the table to lay his hand on Marrex’s forearm.

  As always, the fur at the back of Marrex’s neck bristled at the touch. It was pure torture.

  “You know,” Juniper continued, a crease between his dark brows as he petted Marrex’s arm, “maybe it’s just the lighting in here but your fur looks… brighter than it used to.” Juniper felt a few strands between his fingers, sending another shiver through Marrex. “But it’s definitely softer.”

  Marrex had to clear his throat before speaking. “It… is?” He looked down at the red fur tufting between Juniper’s long, slender fingers, and he swallowed. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “I’m sure of it. Have you changed your grooming habits?”

  Marrex looked away, feeling foolishly embarrassed by the question. He had been taking more care…

  “I’m sorry, was that too personal?” Juniper stopped ruffling Marrex’s fur but didn’t move his hand away.

  “No. No. It’s fine.”

  Smiling, Juniper tilted his head. “What is it? Come on… I know there’s something you want to say.”

  Marrex snorted and frowned at Juniper. “There… is.” He took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling, then back down at Juniper. “Juniper… I need to apologize for something I’ve done.”

  “Oh? That sounds serious.”

  “I want to apologize for invading your privacy,” Marrex explained. “I’ve gone into your room a number of times while you were sleeping.”

  “Wow, that’s not creepy at all,” Juniper replied with a curl of his lip. He slid his hand off Marrex’s arm. “I thought it was a cleaning drone that had taken that rose out of my room while I was asleep… It was you?”

  Marrex nodded, ashamed of himself.

  “How many times?”

  “Eleven.”

  “Why?”

  “The first time was to retrieve the rose. The rest…” Marrex blew out through his nostrils, shaking his head. “When I saw you sleeping there. You were so beautiful. So peaceful. I… have no excuse.”

  “You’re right. That isn’t an excuse.”

  “I know. Which is why I’m telling you now. I’ve betrayed your trust, and I don’t expect you to forgive me, but you need to know what kind of… creature, I am.” He couldn’t bring himself to use the word man.

  Arching one dark eyebrow, Juniper sat back and crossed his arms. “When? Were you there last night?”

  “No,” Marrex replied emphatically. “Not since our first dinner together. I promise.”

  “Why did you stop?”

  “Because…” Marrex looked down at the tabletop, trying to put his thoughts into words, something which he was long out of practice with. “Because your feelings matter to me.”

  “Oh.”

  Marrex glanced up at Juniper and saw his expression had gone shrewd.

  “Are you interested in making it up to me?” Juniper asked.

  Relief uncoiled the knots in Marrex’s chest, and he nodded quickly. “Yes. Of course.”