Coming Soon

Flight of the Titania
~ An Erotic Science-Fiction Novel ~

- Four -
From Death's Embrace

Gray wasn't quite sure how he ended up stepping into the Oberon's hatch. One second he was walking toward it as fast as he could, trying not to jar Queenie more than necessary and then he was stepping into the main body of the ship.

The ambassador took one look at him, and her, then turned sharply away, nearly collapsing against the wall. "Oh my God," he said in a breathless whisper. "She's..."

Gray didn't have time to comfort him. The Oberon's sensors still detected a small amount of brain activity, but only a very small amount. He needed to hurry.

He strode for the heart of the ship and the floor became a downward ramp under his feet. This time, there was no pilot chair waiting for him. The ramp dissolved into a soft smoked-silver mass that gave under his boot-heels, then sucked him under, like quicksand in a Terran swamp.

***

Gray became aware of floating, then of pain. He gasped with agony then felt the cool flood of endorphins rush through his body. The neuro-chemical pushed the pain back to a more tolerable level, and thought became possible. Darkness was a weight against his eyes. The Oberon was doing something complicated, and apparently wanted to work unobserved.

Then he remembered.

Queenie!

It was several long moments before the Oberon was able to dampen the emotional shock flooding his system. Once the first wash of panic receded Gray became aware that Queenie was still in his embrace with her head resting on his shoulder. And she was alive.

The relief was so profound he nearly passed out. Curiosity struck, and he inquired.

The Oberon calmly informed Gray that she was fully integrated with his life functions. Repairs were proceeding, and well within acceptable physical tolerances.

It took a long moment before he quite understood what the ship had done, and even then, he wasn't sure he believed what the ship's sensors were telling him.

The Oberon had bound them together, and organically integrated her body to his. Millions of bio-mechanical umbilicus cables manufactured by the nano-tech running rampant throughout both his body, and the nearly biological ship interconnected their every organ and nerve. His heart was literally beating for her.

Suddenly, he was very glad that he couldn't actually see what the Oberon was doing.

Gray monitored the repairs through the ship's sensors in fascination. Damage was being removed, absorbed then re-grown from the DNA level; broken bones and organs were not being grafted back together, they were being re-made whole. The pain he was feeling was in fact hers, as her body became reintegrated with her nervous system.

One by one her organs became functional on their own, and biological integration with his was removed. He felt her first voluntary heartbeat, her first voluntary breath...

Eventually, only her nervous and circulatory systems remained connected. Then he noticed the adjustments, and additions.

What are you adding?

Necessary utility enhancements are being introduced for full integral functioning.

Gray insisted that she didn't need to become biologically dependant on the ship, the way he was.

The Oberon replied with a flood of data that Gray couldn't quite comprehend, but he was pretty sure that the ship did not intend Queenie to become physically dependent to the Oberon. However there was an imperative being implied that Gray found disturbingly vague.

The Oberon refused to clarify.

Concerned, he asked the ship to disconnect them.

The Oberon did not understand his request; repairs were not complete.

Could she be awakened?

Repairs incomplete.

Could she be disconnected from his biological functions?

Life-support systems are already independent.

Then why were they still integrated?

System undergoing final DNA reprogramming, and biological imperative is still inoperative.

Gray found that that last bit disturbing in a way he couldn't quite grasp.

The Oberon refused to clarify.

Gray began to suspect that the Oberon was deliberately refusing to let him understand what it was really doing to Queenie.

The Oberon refused to acknowledge his unfounded suspicions.

If I take her out of the ship now, will she die?

Life systems are viable.

Disconnect us.

The Oberon continued as though it hadn't received his request.

Oberon! That was not a request -- disconnect and release us!

System undergoing final DNA reprogramming, and biological imperative is still inoperative.

I don't give a shit! If she isn't going to die I want to take her out before she becomes a... Before she looks like me.

A biomechanical cyborg, unrecognizable as an ordinary human?

Gray sighed. Yes.

Stand-by. Disconnection in progress.

Gray had the oddest impression that the Oberon was feeling somewhat guilty.

The Oberon immediately insisted that 'guilt' was an emotionally based and incorrect assessment.

Gray smiled. I know you meant well, and you did one hell of a job putting her back together, but she has to live among humans...

The Oberon made a delicate query concerning Queenie's continued placement.

No, I can't keep her with us.

There was a spat of data that Gray interpreted to be chagrin, and more than a little confusion.

Of course I care about her, I brought her to you didn't I? He clenched his jaw. He'd love to take her with him, but he had no idea what his leash-holders in the Empire would do with her.

He could not stop the Oberon from picking up on his regret, and using it against him.

I can't. I have responsibilities and duties.

The Oberon made a sly implication that Gray was pretty sure he understood.

I fully intend to come back for her, I just don't know when.

The Oberon shot him a line of data that gave Gray the impression that he was being lectured on responsibility. It ended with a direct query: What do you intend to do with her?

Oberon, release us, now.

Detachment complete.

Light assaulted Gray's eyes. He flinched and lifted an arm. Then he heard Queenie take her first full breath. She shifted in his arms.

Gray opened his eyes against the light, and discovered that he was lying in the pilot's seat he was accustomed to seeing, within the smooth and glowing circular womb of the ship.

Queenie was draped over him chest to breast, and thigh to thigh. Gray sucked in a breath. She was in perfect condition, without a trace of the damage she'd suffered. Her dark hair had even grown to just past her shoulders. There wasn't a single trace of the bio-mechanical apparatus that knew had bound her life to his, or a mark of where the connections had been, on either of them. She looked perfectly smooth, perfectly whole, perfectly human and perfectly naked.

Her eyes opened.

Gray sighed. There it was, in the smoked-silver of her eyes, the mark of the Oberon, and the sign that she was not quite human anymore. But she was whole -- and alive.

She smiled. "Hi Robin."

He smiled back. "Hi Queenie. How do you feel?"

She thought about it. "Tired, but pretty good."

"Good."

She looked at her hands in fascination. "I seem to remember being in amazingly bad shape."

"You were." He yanked her into a hard embrace. "Don't you ever do that again!"

"Do what?" She asked from only a breath from his ear.

He chuckled. "Get yourself stomped into the ground by a Marine cyborg."

She snorted, and tugged lightly on his long hair. "I wasn't trying to get stomped in the first place. That was all his idea." Her breath abruptly hitched. "Did I really die?"

"Yes Queenie, you really died."

"Oh..." Her arms closed around his neck, and she shuddered.

"Queenie?" Gray realized that she was crying. Something wrenched in his heart. "Hey, take it easy, it's okay! You're fine now and the kid's gone." He swept a hand down the curve of her spine trying to still her shaking.

A soft sob escaped. "Nobody came. He was trying to kill me, and nobody came!"

"Hey!" He pulled her back so he could see her face. "I came! I got you, and you're alive."

A tear tracked down her cheek. "But my Dad should have."

"They couldn't, they didn't know. He was jamming them, and there was an accident..." He stopped. He didn't want to make excuses for them. They should have come. Someone should have at least looked when the glider crashed.

He closed his eyes and felt a stab of guilt. He should have come out of the Oberon himself, as soon as he heard the crash. He had been expecting someone to hear it, and come, but they hadn't. And then that cyborg had attacked.

By the time her father had showed up the fight was over. And then the selfish bastard told him to let her stay dead. Queenie! His own daughter! Smart, funny, scrappy, Queenie, and her life over without ever having had a chance to live it? No fucking way...

Gray brushed her brow with his lips. "You're fine now Queenie, you're fine... You're alive." He smiled and swept the tear from her cheek with a thumb. "And I have you."

Queenie sniffed, and gave him a watery smile. "My hero."

Robin nodded. "That's right."

"You saved me." Queenie framed his face with her hands. "You did."

"And I better see a little gratitude too." He grinned to prove that he was only playing.

Her expression darkened and became serious.

He frowned. "What?"

Suddenly she was kissing him, mouth open, tongue probing and hungry. It was not a gentle kiss. There was an edge of desperation in her actions.

"Whoa, hey--" he tried to say past her frantic kisses. "I was only...kidding!"

She persisted, and ruthlessly sucked his tongue into her mouth, stealing his breath. Her hands slid down his chest and across the hard points of his masculine nipples.

Bolts of pleasure seared him to the groin.

He tried to pull back, but it was difficult. She was warm and beautiful, and alive. She was also straddling his lap, and writhing urgently against his dick, which was responding with ruthless abandon. He wasn't going to be able to take too much more of this...

He didn't want to take her like this, just back from the dead. It wasn't right; she couldn't know what she was doing.

But Queenie had other ideas. She grabbed fistfuls of his hair and held him to her mouth.

Hot, wet, demanding...

He reached up to pull her back and discovered the full softness of her breasts. Then his thumbs brushed swollen nipples begging for his fingers, and his mouth.

She whimpered in encouragement.

He groaned into her heated mouth, and kissed her back, surrendering under the hungry pressure of her mouth on his, the inciting pinch of her fingertips on his nipples, the softness of her breasts in his hands, and the aching hardness of his cock pressing against very wet, and very willing flesh.

He rolled her velvety nipples in his fingers, and she gasped. He used that opportunity to tip her back against his arm, then ducked his head and sucked a warm nipple into his mouth, sweeping them both with his long silver hair. His teeth grazed her soft plump succulent flesh, then his lips closed, and his tongue lapped.

Her hips bucked hard against his dick, and her arms pulled his mouth tighter to her breast.

He groaned, and sucked.

Her nails dug into his shoulders.

He winced. She was much stronger now, and didn't know that her nails could score steel. He gently raked her back with his own nails. Good thing he was made of very sturdy stuff. If she had done that to a normal man, she would have buried her fingers to the bone.

Her hands caught at his hair, and he was forcibly yanked from her breasts. "Hey!" he protested.

She shoved him back against the chair. Her eyes were wide-open, dilated to the extreme with only a thin silver ring around darkness. Before he knew what she intended, she lifted herself with her knees, and pressed his cock against the opening her body.

"Queenie?" He gasped. "Are you...?"

She fell upon him taking him within hard and to the hilt.

He choked, and instinctively arched up into her wet heat. She was as tight as a fist around him. His hips rolled, reveling in her moist grip, and hers rolled in counterpoint. Without thinking, he cupped the warm flesh of her ass and pressed her closer, and himself deeper. He groaned.

Her hands pressed him back into the chair, and then she rose -- and fell, hard.

He reflexively bucked upward to meet her, and she was already rising to fall again. He met her with brutal precision.

She sucked in a breath, and proceeded to fuck the living shit out of him, as aggressively hard and fast, as her body would allow.

Gray responded with violent counter-thrusts that shook them both.

There was not one drop of gentleness in her taking. Her nails scored his shoulders, her teeth nipped at his chest and urgent nipples. She rode him as though she exorcised a demon from within.

He thought, perhaps it was an exorcism. Death was a horrific experience. Even a close brush evoked the living to defy its nearness. Queenie had seen its face, and felt it's cold hands take hold. She had intimate knowledge of her own heart stopping, of her own last breath. With every rise and fall of her body, she denied death's hold on her, driving it forcibly out of her body.

Sweat formed, dripped and slicked the flesh between them.

Gray found her intensity frightening, and glorious. Even as he felt his balls tighten with immanence, he knew she was not expressing love, but terror and desperation. Part of him understood her overwhelming need to take, to rise over him, to overpower him, to fuck him. Whether she knew it or not, it was proof to herself that she was vitally alive, and not a helpless victim. But the rest of him reveled in the breathtaking pleasure of their pure and brutal animalistic fucking.

Queenie's eyes closed as her climax rushed to fulfillment. Her breath stilled.

Gray felt her drag his head back by the hair, and then her parted lips were on his. Her gasping cries filled his open mouth as she came, bucking, shuddering and squeezing.

He groaned and grabbed her ass with both hands, thrusting up into her ferociously, greedily desperately. He felt the burning rush of his own climax, and then the delicious pleasure of his cum pumping into her warm depths.

He gave her the sounds of his release and she swallowed them.

Queenie collapsed atop him, panting. He could feel her heart pounding against his breast. Her storm of passion seemed to be over.

He closed his arms around her, and stoked a palm down her damp spine. "God, Queenie..."

She pushed up to look at him. "Are you okay?"

Gray gave her a tired grin. "Who me?"

"I don't know what came over me." She spotted the marks of her nails on his shoulders and touched them. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you..."

"Hurt me?" Gray threw back his head and laughed. "Anytime you want to hurt somebody, I volunteer!"

"You didn't mind?"

"Oh, hell no!" He scooped her into a tight hug. "I love aggressive women." He pressed a quick kiss to her lips. "Rape me anytime!"

Queenie blushed, then leaned in to kiss him back, and this time there was tenderness in her caress. "Thank you."

Gray frowned. "For what?"

Queenie swatted his shoulder. "How about, for bringing me back to life?"

Gray pouted. "Damn, I thought you were going to thank me for the sex?"

Queenie's brows shot up then she grinned. "That too, but um, I thought I was doing you?"

Gray gave her his most innocent expression. "Why so you were!"

Queenie chuckled and pressed another kiss to his mouth.

Gray sighed and cradled her in his arms. "I suppose I better take you up." He leaned forward and stood with her cradled in his arms.

Queenie wrapped her arms around his neck for balance. "Up where?"

"Up to see the rest of the Oberon."

Queenie's eyes widened. "We're on the Oberon?" He watched her brows come together in thought. "Oh yes, of course we are..." She looked around at the circular room with the single leather-bound pilot's reclining chair. "Where exactly are we now?"

"This is the pilot's hold."

Queenie frowned. Not a whole lot to see in here."

Gray chuckled. "That's because when we're in flight, I see what the ship sees, not what my eyes are looking at."

"Oh, that's right, inter-neural integration. Your nervous system is linked to the ship's sensors, so you can see the fabric of space..."

A part of the curved ceiling lifted, opening onto the main cabin area, and lumps exuded from the wall directly in front of them then, enlarged and formed into stairs.

"That's a really good way to put it." Gray stared at Queenie but she was looking at the newly formed stairs.

"Um, did I just see the wall make stairs?"

"Yeah. There's a lot to tell you." Gray swallowed. Yeah, like that her dad had wanted her to stay dead, rather than be what he was -- what she was now. Better get to it...

He brushed her brow with his lips. "I bet you're hungry," he whispered. "Ready to go eat?"

She gave him a heart-breaking grin. "Starving! Feed me!"

Gray carried Queenie out of the Oberon's core, hale, whole and wonderfully alive.

***

Queenie snuggled against Robin's throat feeling warm and safe, if somewhat embarrassed over her rather forceful seduction. She had no idea why she'd wanted him so badly, but the need to ride Robin, to have him inside her body and bucking under her, had been too overwhelming to even think about resisting the urge. Thank God, he hadn't minded.

Robin stood the upper hall and turned with her in his arms, facing the front of the ship.

Queenie looked around with interest. The curving interior walls seemed to be silver, but in fact an opalescent gleam shimmered throughout everything, including the floor carpeting. The corridor they were standing in was oval in shape and oddly, made the ship looked bigger from the inside.

She watched the hatch to the pilot's hold slowly fall then meld into the floor as though it had never been there. Her brows rose. "Well, damn, if you're boarded, no one's going to pull you out of the chair, they'll never find the hold."

"That's the whole idea." He nodded toward the front of the ship. "Okay, this way is the observation lounge, I guess you could call it. There are couches and tables in there, and that's where the food is."

"Pilot Gray, you are naked," someone said with a cultured and highly sophisticated accent. "Not that I mind."

Queenie felt Robin flinch.

He rolled his eyes. "Damn, I forgot..."

"You forgot that you were naked?" The cultured voice was suddenly amused. "Oh, you're entertaining a young lady..."

Robin brushed his lips against her ear, and whispered very softly. "I forgot he was here." He turned slowly around.

Queenie beheld the most delicately beautiful man she had ever seen. His face was pale sculpted perfection. Golden brows swept up over electric blue eyes dancing with amusement. His nose was fine and straight, and his mouth lush. Spun-gold hair fell back from his broad pale brow and tumbled to his waist, in stark contrast to the brilliant blue of his over-robe. A livid scarlet under-robe peeked from under the hems and hinted at an even more delicate under-robe of sheer gold silk. His hands were folded together, and hidden within the draping and layered sleeves. The long straight lines of the robe skimmed a very slender body and the broad scarlet sash defined a waist smaller than hers.

"Oh wow..."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'm sorry." Queenie stammered. "You're um, gorgeous."

"Oh!" The young man delivered a breath-taking smile. "In that case, I will take your declaration as a compliment."

"It was meant as one," she said sincerely.

Robin nodded at the young man. "Ambassador Cyrus, this is Queenie."

"Ambassador Cyrus," Queenie nodded then swallowed hard. She was looking at informal Royal Court dress for a consulate member of the Royal League of Nations, and she was naked. She felt the heat flood her cheeks.

"Queenie, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance." He dipped his chin in formal greeting, and raised an interested brow at Robin. "It seems that the Colonel is taking his rest in his quarters, though I can't seem to find exactly where he's currently residing...?"

Robin smiled coldly. "I had him moved to more uh, comfortable surroundings. He's resting peacefully, I assure you."

Ambassador Cyrus rolled his eyes. "I ah, see. Speaking of the Colonel, he won't be happy about you having company." He looked at Queenie with interest. "But then I might be persuaded not to tell him..." His voice trailed off and his blue eyes flared wide. "Is this the same girl that was...?"

Robin stilled. "Yes."

"Oh, well then." He nodded and smiled. "Quite an improvement, I must say."

Queenie looked at Robin. "He saw me ... before?"

Robin nodded. "When you first came in."

"Oh..." Queenie decided that she did not want to know.

Ambassador Cyrus cleared his throat. "While all this artistic nudity is quite nice, and I am rather enjoying the view, I think we shall all be far more comfortable once dressed." He gave Queenie a measuring look. "I doubt her outfit from earlier is in any condition to be worn, so the young lady will need something to wear."

Robin gave Queenie a helpless shrug.

Queenie bit her lip, guessing that he meant her clothes really were unsalvageable.

Ambassador Cyrus turned toward the interior of the ship. "I think I have a few things that will fit her..."

Robin frowned. "I can provide clothes..."

"What, one of your ugly jumpsuits?" He turned to deliver a delicate scowl. "I think not." He strode deeper into the ship. "Carry her this way, Pilot Gray, and that was not a request."

***

Ambassador Cyrus glided to one side of his doorway. "Welcome to my humble chamber."

"Humble, my ass." Robin snorted, shaking his head then ducked through the oval doorway with Queenie in his arms. "He just had to have the walls match his eyes."

The ambassador chuckled. "And the Oberon is always so very accommodating!"

Ambassador Cyrus's chamber was perfectly round, like a bubble, and the curving walls were indeed, the exact same shade of blue as his eyes. Directly opposite the oval doorway, a luxurious circular bed framed by sheer draperies commanded the center of the back curve. Silken comforters of dark gold silk and black spotted furs in cream, and gold were thrown across the bed along with a full dozen of variously shaped, riotously colored pillows. Massive trunks lined the curving walls all the way around the room to frame the bed, and the door.

Queenie eyed the whole decadent display with grave misgivings. "All this in a spacecraft? Doesn't it float around dangerously during null-gravity? What about when you reenter gravity, and they fall?"

The ambassador glided past them. "The Oberon does not allow such things to happen." He nodded at Gray, and gave him an amused smile. "Precisely why I refuse to travel in any other conveyance."

Robin gave Queenie a pained glance. "Everything is secured for flight, he just likes to decorate as soon as my back is turned."

Ambassador Cyrus shook his head sadly. "Unfortunately, my staff was unable to come with me during this trip, so I had to do it all myself."

Robin's jaw clenched. "We were in a hurry, there wasn't time to take on your entire staff." Queenie was convinced that she could hear Robin's teeth grinding.

She tried to hold back her smile.

Ambassador Cyrus opened a large trunk. "That reminds me, are we still on schedule?"

"Yes."

"Good. I would not want to be lat to this stuffy convention." He raised a brow. "But I could be convinced otherwise?" He glanced at Queenie briefly.

Robin frowned at the ambassador. "We will arrive on time."

Queenie looked at Robin. "You work for Ambassador Cyrus?"

He shook his head. "No."

"When the Empire wishes my presence at their long boring engagements, and other silliness, they send the Oberon to fetch me."

Queenie watched Ambassador Cyrus dig through the trunk with interest. "Only the Oberon?"

"Nothing less than a Fey Class will do, which they have discovered to their dismay." He turned and delivered a sly smile. "You see, as far as I'm concerned, I'm more than happy to remain in my own palace, and let them come to me."

Queenie's mouth fell open. "You have your own palace?"

Robin stilled. "Ambassador?"

"But, of course." Ambassador Cyrus threw up a delicate hand as he dug through fabric with the other. "Barbados Prime is very wealthy. Everyone who is anyone has a palace. Some simply have larger palaces than others."

Robin's frown deepened. "Ambassador..."

Ambassador Cyrus didn't look up from the trunk he was digging through "Relax Gray and don't presume. By the way, I think I have something in here for you too..."

Barbados Prime...? Queenie's breath caught. Barbados Prime was the capital of the Republic of the Caribbean Stars, one of the richest, and best defended, star-based nations in the known universe. They were infamous for being the original safe-haven worlds for the first space-flight privateers and merchant marines corps. They had named their worlds for their most lucrative profession: interstellar piracy.

Over a century ago, the Republic had chosen to join the Royal League of Interstellar Nations as a legitimate government, and had supposedly stopped their plundering. They maintained their current level of wealth by training, and deploying private armies that flew to engagements in Demon Class Mercenary Warships. The small Republic was treated with sincere respect in the Empire, as not one Royal House wanted the Republic's entire collection of Demon Class warships aimed at them.

Queenie was looking at a council member for one of the most powerful governments in the Royal League of Interstellar Nations. And I'm naked. She rolled her eyes and felt like running back to the pilot's hold. It figures...

Ambassador Cyrus turned around with several swathes of dark ruby and deep silver silk draped across his arm. "These should do nicely."

And he's dressing me in his court robes... Queenie's throat tightened. "I'm very honored ambassador."

Ambassador Cyrus examined her expression with amusement. "So, did you finally put it all together?"

Queenie cleared her throat. "Um, Imperial consulate representative for the Republic of the Caribbean Stars?"

He nodded and smiled. "Excellent, now put her down Gray and lets get her dressed."

Robin let her slide to the floor and released her. Queenie suddenly felt very alone and very naked. She felt Robin take her hand and immediately felt better. She turned to face the ambassador, and found herself staring eye to eye with him.

Ambassador Cyrus examined Queenie thoughtfully. "We are of a similar height, this will make things very simple." He held out a sheer silver robe. "Turn around Queenie, face Gray, and lift your arms to the sides."

Queenie turned her back on the ambassador and released Robin's hand. It took more effort than she wanted to think about.

Ambassador Cyrus slid the silver robe over Queenie's arms. A sly smile graced his lips. "I'm the..."

"Ambassador!" Gray's face paled.

"Representative from the Republic's presidency," the ambassador continued smoothly. "And Pilot Gray is --"

"Ambassador that's enough!"

"Don't be secretive, Gray." He slid his arms around her to fasten the ties. "You know as well as I do, that they are going to assume she knows anyway, so you may as well tell her what you are."

Queenie bit her lip and stared at Robin. "If you don't think I shouldn't know, then maybe..."

Robin swept his hands over his face and into his hair, clearly uncomfortable. "I'm a courier," he said softly.

Queenie's felt her heart stutter in shock. He's an Imperial Courier? Couriers transported secrets and planetary royalty. They were also some of the most deadly hand-to-hand fighters in the Empire's service, serving as bodyguards to their passengers. Rumor had it that Imperial Central Intelligence hired their agents from straight out of courier service.

She was in an Imperial courier ship, being dressed by an Imperial Ambassador? Queenie suddenly realized that she was so far out of her personal orbit that she couldn't see the next star. What the hell have I just gotten mixed up in?

Ambassador Cyrus dropped the deep ruby robe over Queenie's out flung arms. "I keep asking Gray to come work for me instead of the Empire, but he keeps telling me no." He walked around and knelt then folded the robe neatly and unwound a long black sash. "I could certainly afford to pay him enough for a decent wardrobe." The ambassador stood and stared at Robin. "Your robes are on the bed. Dress."

Robin crossed his arms and snorted. "I doubt you have anything that'll fit me."

"That is where you would be thoroughly mistaken." Ambassador Cyrus pointed at the small pile of dark silk on the bed. "I had them made, and in your colors too."

"You had them made?" Robin took an involuntary step back.

"Of course, in silver, midnight blue and black. Dress quickly, I'm nearly done here." He grinned. "Unless of course, you'd like me to assist you?"

Gray made a grab for the pile of silk. "I have it..."

"Pity."

Queenie watched in avid fascination as Robin slid into the rich heavy silks. The ambassador was right; the midnight blue suited him and fit perfectly, and took great delight in helping Robin tie his long black sash properly.

Ambassador Cyrus stepped back to admire the pair of them in their complimentary robes of deep ruby, and midnight blue. "Exquisite, I do have good taste." He sighed. "Now then, dinner I presume?"

Queenie's stomach took that moment to announce its disapproval of all the waiting, with a loud gurgling groan.

Ambassador Cyrus smiled broadly. "That answers my question." He walked over to anther trunk and pulled out a deep green bottle. "I'm assuming that Queenie will not be able to imbibe spirits, is that correct Gray?"

Gray looked thoughtful. "Not at this time. It will interfere with her development."

Ambassador Cyrus glided over to them then leaned over to Queenie. "I guess it really will stunt your growth," he said in a loud stage whisper. He shook his head, tossing his golden mane. "I suppose that means no tobacco products or anything else decadent either." He sighed dramatically. "Well there goes that little party idea."

He swept out of his chamber with Robin and Queenie following bemused in his wake.

 

Chapter One: Flight Dreams

Chapter Two: Assessments

Chapter Three: Lethal Sentiments

Chapter Four: From Death's Embrace

Flight of the Titania

Coming Soon!