Mama and the Alien Warrior (Treasured By The Alien #1) - Honey Phillips Page 0,70
missing any modern conveniences. Except for indoor sanitary facilities, of course.” Dirigen burst into laughter at Hrebec’s appalled silence. “You should see your face. I promise you that our sanitary systems are quite up to date.”
A reluctant grin crossed Hrebec’s face. “I am relieved to know that.”
“I’m sure you are. But again, why are you here?”
Hrebec sighed. “It’s a long story.”
“Then come inside. We’ll have a drink while you tell me.”
Dirigen led the way through a small but comfortable house. Hrebec caught enough of a glimpse of both the kitchen and bathroom areas to realize that they were quite modern. They ended up on a back porch overlooking the river. Dirigen poured them each a glass of wine while Hrebec told his tale.
“A female Cire infant.” Dirigen said, when Hrebec was finished. “I wonder why L’chong did not send her to us.” His brow ridges crinkled. “Is that why you’re here? To see if we’ll take her?”
“No,” he said immediately. “She’s ours.”
Dirigen’s lips quirked. “Ours?”
“She is the daughter of my mate and myself.”
“Your human mate,” Dirigen said thoughtfully.
The sound of laughter floated over to their position and Hrebec turned to see a couple walking up the path from the river. The man was Cire and the female was Trevelorian, but they were walking hand in hand, his tail wrapped protectively around her feathered shoulders, and they were quite obviously in love.
“Do you have a problem with humans?” he asked, turning back to Dirigen.
“How could I? I’ve never met one. I was referring more to the fact that you said she wished to return to her planet.”
Hrebec looked at the other man and admitted, “I thought—I thought that perhaps this would be an alternative. But how can I ask her to live in a place like this when she is accustomed to a different lifestyle? Her planet may not have space flight, but their technology seems relatively sophisticated.”
Dirigen shrugged. “We have all the technology we need. We travel regularly to Wiang and are quite aware of what is happening in the Confederation.”
“She is also concerned about the education of our daughters.”
“My granddaughter just graduated from the university in Wiang.” Dirigen’s eyes narrowed. “But these are simply excuses. The question is—will you let her go back to her planet?”
“I cannot stop her,” he said, his chest aching as he spoke.
“Perhaps not. But you can decide what you are willing to give up to have her stay.”
“Everything.” There was no hesitation in his response. The thought of his ship and his crew flitted through his mind, but they were insignificant compared to Abigail and his family.
“Then you have your answer. Offer her everything you have, and hope that it is enough.”
“What if it’s not?”
“What if it is? My mate was willing to give up Ciresia and travel with me on an unknown quest. You cannot know unless you ask.”
Hrebec bowed his head in acknowledgment and Dirigen let the subject drop. They finished their wine, and then the older man gave him a tour of the village. There was a larger variety of commerce than he had anticipated, and he found himself wondering where he could fit in. At least part of the answer came when they entered a building and found an elderly Trevelorian making furniture.
“These are beautiful,” Hrebec said, noticing the way the lines of each piece brought out the subtle colors in the wood.
Dirigen laughed. “I’m not surprised you appreciate them. Your father was a talented furniture maker at one time.”
“He was? I only remember him rushing off to the lab every morning.”
“That was after your mother died. He was so determined to prevent others from suffering her fate. Did he get rid of everything he made?”
“No,” he said slowly, remembering some of the beautiful pieces that had graced his home up until the time they had moved because the labs were consolidated. The desk currently on his ship was the only one of them to survive the move.
Fascinated, he wandered over to the owner and was soon deeply engrossed in conversation. Dirigen eventually had to politely, but firmly, suggest that they be on their way. Their last stop was the school. Rather than one massive building, the school was comprised of small pods connected by a trellised loggia. Dirigen introduced him to the principal, a no-nonsense Trevelorian with a kind face and an air of competency. She willingly discussed the curriculum and he found himself reluctantly impressed.
Finally, Dirigen walked with him back to the flyer. “So what do you think?”