The Princess and the Human

"Before we land," Kykla addressed her attendants and pilots, "I want to take some precautions: while we are on Hohmiy, I will do the talking. And I mean all the talking. You are not to interact with any Vanaery in any way, shape, or form. You will never talk to each other with your translator on, and even then you will make 100% sure no Vanaery is in hearing distance. If you are ever in a situation where interaction is inevitable, you will only say the bare minimum of what is necessary and then end said interaction. Is that clear?"

The men bowed.

"Yes, Milady."

"Good. Because we can't risk one of you slipping up. If the Vanaery were to learn about the dire situation our homeworld is in, that we desperately need new trade agreements, and that almost all attempts to get them failed, they would hold all the cards. They could literally demand anything from me in the negotiation, and I would have to comply with what would no doubt be the most one-sided agreement in history. And after that, we might as well declare ourselves Vanaery's slaves, because in the best case we would have to dance in the palm of their hand for all eternity, or the entire alliance learns of our desperation and we end up getting bled dry by everybody."

She picked up a translator, put it around her neck, and stood up.

"So whenever you open your mouth, do not think of the execution that is going to await you if you mess up. Think about after that, when you will stand before the Goddess, how you will explain to her that it was you who sealed the demise of her people!"

The Cyto landed and opened the gangway. Qeylo walked right next to Kykla, with her three servants right behind them, as they exited their ship and stepped onto the floor of the spaceport. The princess and her entourage were already waiting for them, her above-average height making her stand out among the rest of her kind. Most Vanaery were slightly shorter than female Tystrie, but Silgvani was actually taller than her. Next to the princess, the men who accompanied Kykla looked even shorter than they already were. The Tystrie matriarch was not used to having to look up to her conversation partner, and she most certainly didn't enjoy it. Of course, she couldn't exactly demand a royal to bow down to her, so she begrudgingly accepted the facts.

"My greetings, Lady Kykla. May the light of the Goddess shine upon you."

"As it may upon you", she answered. By now, Kykla knew about the princess's diligence, so she was no longer surprised that she knew their traditional greeting, including the corresponding hand gestures - even if they looked a bit awkward with her four hands. Likewise, it would be futile to expect her to offer a bed in that ridiculously huge palace of hers or make a similar slip-up that she could claim to have taken insult from.

"We have prepared a cottage for you to stay in, as well as a shuttle to get around. Feel free to take your time to make yourself at home. Once you are ready, I will expect you for lastmeal at the star palace. We prepared a wide variety of food, including the knvietas as it is tradition."

She took a step back and was now standing behind the two maids flanking her. Females who were servants were another thing the matriarch would probably never get used to, no matter how many alien cultures she visited.

"These are Kaiyla and Sivara. They will attend to your needs for the duration of your stay. Should you require more, just ask."

Kykla's tail twitched slightly as she heard the name. Kaiyla. That was the one from the photograph. Well, wasn't that lucky.

"That is very gracious of you, Your Highness," Kykla thanked her with faked gratitude. "But I do not plan to exploit your hospitality with a behavior so lavish that I would require that many servants on top of my own."

She then addressed the maid on the left.

"Kaiyla was it, yes?"

"Correct, Milady."

"Can you fly a shuttle?", she asked, already knowing the answer.

"I can, Milady."

"Very well." She turned back to the princess. "Then this one shall suffice."

The princess accepted her proposition without further comment, followed by some meaningless wishes for a good stay.

After the formalities were done, Kykla and her entourage entered the shuttle, while Kaiyla manned the cockpit. She waited until they reached the accommodations, and while the other servants unloaded everything, she pulled Kaiyla to the side. It was time to start preparing her backup plan.

"Can I help you, Milady?"

"Oh, nothing important," Kykla assured her with faked casualness. "But the other servants are more than enough for such a menial task, so I would like you to instead help me pass the time and engage in some conversation. You see, I was curious about something I heard. Is it true that Vanaery women only take one husband?"

"I am sorry, Milady, I do not know what that term means."

"Ah, right, you don't marry before the... anyway it's basically another word for a male partner."

"I see. Then yes, we partner only once," she said without the slightest hint of curiosity about the fact that it was apparently unusual for the Tystrie. Well, she was a professional after all. But Kykla didn't plan on letting the conversation end there.

"Fascinating! And here I thought I was modest with just eleven husbands!"

Finally, the maid's facade cracked.

"Eleven??" she asked confused, realizing her breach of etiquette right after. "My apologies, Lady Kykla, but you surprised me."

"No offense taken. But yes, I have eleven husbands. You see, I am quite busy due to my position, so I'm keeping it low. Although I'm thinking about looking for a twelfth one, even if it is just to stop my colleague from rubbing in my face that she has twice as many husbands as me despite being younger."

"Is... is it normal for your women to have twenty partners? Apologies, I mean husbands."

And with that, Kykla had awoken her curiosity.

"Well, it depends on their age. When a female leaves the juvenile age, she usually takes on her first husband to become a matriarch. After that, she gradually increases the number as time goes by. Most stop at around twenty-four to twenty-seven."

"Please excuse my question, but doesn't... doesn't that lead to awkward situations?"

Kykla shrugged. "Well, I guess from your perspective, it might seem awkward that my eldest son is older than my youngest husband, but to us, that is normal. Female Tytrie live almost twice as long as the males, after all. But despite being barely an adult, my youngest husband is an eager one. And he has already given me a cute little son."

"L-lady Kykla, if I may ask: how many children have you birthed?"

"Only thirty-seven so far," Kykla answered nonchalantly and ignored the maid flinching at the number. "But among them are two daughters, the older one soon reaching adolescence. My family is truly blessed."

"Is that... remarkable?"

"Indeed. Usually, one is considered lucky if there is one daughter among fifty sons. That is why a daughter is both the goal and greatest treasure of each family. But I have two. It is as if the Goddess herself is watching over me. But enough about me, what about your family? How is it to partner only once?"

The maid's gaze fell.

"I... I am sorry, Milady, but... my partner died not long ago."

"Oh no! My deepest condolences. What happened to him?"

"He was a member of Her Highness, Princess Silgvani's guards. He fell when their ship was attacked a couple of days ago."

"Ah, yes, I heard about the attack. Then I hope you can find peace in the knowledge that he died as a hero, I... I am sure Her Highness had good reasons to leave the secure routes. I mean, she wouldn't just risk her people's lives for nothing, right? I apologize for making you remember this. Feel free to retreat for the day and collect yourself."

"I... thank you, Milady."

The maid bowed and retreated to the servant quarters of the cottage.

With this, the seed was planted, pressing further would not help her for now. She needed to be patient, slowly nurturing the growing discontent with the princess. Satisfied, Kykla went back to the others, leaving her soon-to-be ally alone in her grief.