Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
The humans and the vorec.
Meanwhile, every hybrid traveled with a sword. Every mated female was in training to adjust their technique, so they might defend themselves with a blade whether they carried a belly or not.
So many of us were pregnant. A new generation soon to be born free in a city that was theirs. In a world where they merged with the ecosystem, not rallied against it.
Humans worked the fields and kept the city running under the careful watch of our people. In exchange, they received protection and food. Those sectors of the city that behaved with decorum were given filtered air. Those who rebelled died slowly from poison fog.
I never asked about my birthmother. I didn’t need to. Cyderial would have saved all of them, including my nasty brother-in-law. Though if he were to die from his own foolishness in the days that followed, I couldn’t have brought myself to care.
I had other places to dedicate my focus.
I was now Queen.
Cyderial’s office in the academy became mine. His treasure there for me to touch anytime I felt like wandering quietly about the room.
A place I once greatly feared, now my home.
The outlining of a new curriculum, the renaming of recruits to students, done by my declaration. Running of the academy would be my life’s mission, a safe place for females to grow without fear that our males’ violent nature might cause them harm.
The boys would be educated elsewhere, their care in the hands of the mated males now. Though I would assure all was done lovingly.
Every surviving fertile human female was given the option to bear a hybrid child in exchange for a higher class and greater access to rations. Their species was over; should they want their genes to live on, there was only one option. Bear and raise hybrid offspring as their own.
Those who refused were sterilized.
On this, I strongly disagreed with my mate.
The ethics of Cyderial’s decree kept me up at night and caused many battles between me and my mate. He would not be moved, and I would have to grieve it.
And prepare.
Many children would be coming to the academy; though, as queen, I had the power to alter the date they were taken from their families. Girls would arrive at the age of ten. Mothers would be encouraged to visit; quarters would even be prepared for them to have extended stays.
My own daughter, growing strong in my womb, would know what it was to live behind a sealed vault.
But her cage would be soft and full of female things.
She would still be required to learn how to use a sword, but no one would ever break her fingers for twirling. There would be no hangings. No beatings. No fear.
The academy would be a place of fun and wonder. Of honesty and academic exploration.
Cyderial was unquestionably King, yet he wore no crown. I was Queen, usually in uniform, training children while studying human texts on education and philosophy.
Overwhelmed but hopeful.
And growing very much in love with my liege.
A man who had literally given me and my unborn daughter a new world.
Who rubbed my feet, who cooked for me. Who brought me beautiful rocks and worshipped my body as I grew heavy with our first child.
Who made love to me, and challenged me, and was worthy in every way.