“Let me out of here!” she yelled, more to amuse herself than anything else. She’d seen it a few times in old movies, the verbal venting, meant to release built-up energy. No one would hear, of course. They’d be monitoring prisoners from a remote location via vid.

Gayle yelped and jumped back when the door panel slid open. Her jaw dropped when after a second, she recognized the cold, elegant man staring down at her, his black hair a polished braid draped over one broad shoulder.

Her princeling, not her Adekhan.

“Ithann… what in the hell is going on here?”

He stepped into the cell, perforce requiring her to retreat, the panel sliding shut behind him.

Gayle eyed him. “I hope you have authorization to open that thing back up.”

Gone was the snippy warrior-in-training uniform. He wasn’t even the fancy dress prince from the party. He wore all black, not quite the outfit she and Mila had seen a few higher-ranked officers wearing when they’d toured the ship.

“I don’t think black is the right color for people with shades of blue for skin.”

His expression didn’t change. “And yet, as a brown-skinned woman, I frequently see you wearing… brown.”

“It’s a stereotype that dark women can’t wear brown,” she replied, voice haughty. “It all depends on the shade and the quality of the fabric.”

“Abigail.”

He never called her by her first name. Gayle inhaled. “Is there something wrong with my paperwork? Wait—what are you even doing here?”

“That you thought you would be able to leave the planet on a vessel headed for my planet, and I wouldn’t be informed… this tells me you don’t fully understand the situation.”

She struggled not to take a step back. The neutral voice suddenly darkened with the faintest hint of menace, and eyes she’d thought implacable were now flat, like a snake.

“What don’t I understand, Adekhan?”

He smiled. Her stomach clenched, and not in a good way. “That is,” he said, “the wrong form of address. I have retired my commission due to these unexpected circumstances.”

“Oh… shit. My bad?”

Ithann stepped forward, forcing her to retreat, and grabbed her around the back to prevent further withdrawal. “Don’t back away from me—it’s beneath the dignity of an Bdakhun.”

“What does that word mean?” she asked, voice quiet. “Someone else called me that—well, a variation. The base word isn’t in my translator.”

“No. You must learn the language, Gayle. It’s poor form to rely on mechanical things when the power of your intellect is superior.”

“Maybe. That’s probably not the point right now, though.”

“No.” His hands moved from around her back up her arms, wrapping around her with gentle pressure. “You’re mine now, legally. Otherwise, they would have sent you back to Earth, and your father was angry enough to… do something rash. I have my family legal counsel delaying things while what I did processes.”

“What did you do, Ithann?”