Ambassador Lord Niklas Lorvar, Prillon Prime, The Palace
“SURPRISE!”
Queen Jessica, with her mates behind her—Prime Nial and Lord Ander—stopped dead in her tracks as she came into the ballroom, her eyes widening like dinner plates and her mouth dropping open. Once the initial shock was over, she covered her face with her hands and laughed. Male clapping joined squeals of feminine laughter and shouting as a clutch of human women surrounded her like Hive on a downed fighter.
“Stop scowling, Niklas,” Sambor scolded while he, too, clapped slowly, his rough hands coming together like slow-moving thunder.
I watched the stunned happiness on the queen’s face as she realized many of her fellow Earth brides had come from their home planets to Prillon Prime to celebrate her birthing day. I’d heard one of the females had organized it with the queen’s mates, obviously having kept it all a secret. We’d received an invitation, something I knew, as ambassador, not to decline.
My duties to Prillon Prime were of the utmost importance to the entire Coalition Fleet. And part of my job was to maintain an excellent working relationship with both Prime Nial and his second, Lord Ander.
Turning down an invitation to their mate’s private celebration was not an option—no matter what pressing matters awaited mine and Sambor’s attention. Criminal activities on Rogue 5. Cerberus Legion’s new interest in human females. Dr. Helion and the Intelligence Core’s attempts to extract information from a Nexus unit we were holding in captivity. Important things for the safety and security of everyone present, and everyone in the Interstellar Coalition of Planets. Instead of taking care of these issues, I was supposed to remain here for several days, sneaking away for meetings, only to return for more celebrations, which I’d been informed were to include a sweet baked item from Earth called cake and listening to strange Earthen music for hours upon hours. I had never listened to human music, but knowing how chaotic and unpredictable humans were as a whole, I did not have high hopes that their music would be tolerable to Prillon ears.
“We should not be here, Sambor. There is too much work to do.”
“We already must transport off planet for meetings twice during the celebration days.” Sambor still clapped his large hands, and he had a smile on his face. “That’s more than enough. What’s the point of fighting all the time if we don’t enjoy ourselves once in a while?”
“The custom of shocking one on their birthing day does not qualify as a worthy use of our time. We should be out in the field protecting the queen, not standing here watching her cry.” For the female was crying profusely, and every female who approached and hugged her seemed to make the crying worse. “Perhaps the females from Earth are not as intelligent as I had assumed. Why do they not stop?” I could not stand to see a female in pain, as was the case with most of the males in the room. I expected Ander and Nial to be severely affected, emotionally linked to the queen as they were through their dark red mating collars, but they beamed like they’d just won a fierce battle. “I do not understand females.”
Sambor burst into laughter. “A truer statement has never passed your lips, my friend.”
I wasn’t one for surprises and it wasn’t a Prillon tradition to make a celebration a secret, but it appeared to be something normal for the primitive planet where all the squealing females were from. And something they clearly enjoyed.
“Niklas, no jest. Stop scowling. You’re going to give Prime Nial the impression you don’t want to be here,” Sambor continued, although the Prime was far too enthralled by his mate’s joyful face to note the frown on mine.
“I’m too busy.” Right then, music came through hidden speakers and I cringed. I’d never heard such a theme before, but all the females squealed again and laughed. They grabbed one another by the hands and dragged each other toward an open area I assumed was designated for dancing.
However, the strange high-pitched male voice coming through the speakers had the ladies twirling, gyrating, stomping and waving their hands all around in the oddest type of ceremonial display I’d ever witnessed.
Ah, Earth music. Loud, odd and weirdly rhythmic. As I had feared.
I listened to the words. “Why do they want to spin a baby right round? And what is