Free Surrender by Sue Lyndon

hours.
    The basement room had become her personal hell.
     
    * * *
     
    Merokk gazed at the image of the real Betsy Carson on his communicator screen with loathing. The traitor looked just like his lovely, fraudulent wife. He bent his head lower to get a closer look at the First Daughter’s eyes. As blue as the oceans of his homeworld, just like Fiona's.
    Fiona Lockhart. The imposter he’d been married to for months had a name.
    He wanted to hate her, but the emotion couldn’t be forced no matter how worked up and angry he felt over her deception. He couldn’t even think straight enough to deal with her yet, so he kept her locked up in the basement. When he’d commissioned the house shortly after his betrothal to a human woman he’d yet to meet, he’d had the prison-room built as insurance. If his bride didn’t cooperate, he’d planned to keep her under lock and key until she came to her senses. Now the room served to protect Fiona from his wrath. Until he calmed down enough face her, she would remain alone and out of his immediate reach.
    You’re my whole world, little one .
    The tender words once spoken haunted him now with every aching breath. He took another drink of his wine and cursed. Why couldn’t Fiona have trusted him enough to reveal her true identity after the first weeks of their marriage? Surely she didn’t believe he’d cast her away like she meant nothing to him. Did she really think so little of him? He understood she’d been coerced, and those who orchestrated the deception would pay dearly. Two American officials from New York and their minions. President Carson was lucky he had to remain in power for appearances or he’d find himself being quietly prosecuted in a Kall court alongside his daughter.
    Five days had passed since Pentak’s tragic visit. Five days since Merokk had held Fiona in his arms. He was hollow inside, and no amount of drink could fill the void in his heart, though he poured himself another glass of wine, worrying over the future with a heavy heart. Originally, his father had offered to have Betsy and Fiona quietly switched. The few who knew about Betsy’s capture in Vermont could have been easily silenced. But the thought of his wife being shipped back to New York Settlement was one he couldn’t bear. Not just because he knew those settlements were hellholes, but because the little thing had grown on him during these past few months. No, switching her with a stranger wasn’t an option. The real Betsy Carson would be tried and sentenced in a Kall court. It was public now, the scandal smoothed over by Pentak, who claimed he requested that Merokk marry a cousin of Betsy’s instead at the last minute after Betsy was caught sabotaging a Kall ship. Lies to cover up lies to cover up lies.
    You’re my whole world, little one.
    Merokk took a deep breath, assessing his mental condition. He decided to fetch Fiona from the basement soon. He couldn’t leave her there forever, and keeping her locked up didn’t solve anything. Although his anger toward her still burned white hot, he felt in control of his actions. His thoughts swimming, he downed a third and a fourth glass of wine, and another and another until he lost count. Then, for the first time since his days as a new, undisciplined warrior, he passed out drunk on the floor in a sick, dreamless state of despair.

 
     
     
    Chapter Seven
     
    Fiona slid off the bed and stretched her muscles, reaching her arms straight up and standing on her tiptoes until the position became unbearable. She smoothed her hands over the wrinkles on her blouse and skirt, but it proved useless. She snorted to herself. What did it matter? No one was going to see her like this anyway.
    Her eyes danced around the room. A clock would be nice. A calendar. A fucking window. But she had nothing to help her determine the time of day. It could be midnight or noontime for all she knew. Was Merokk sleeping? Dreaming sweet dreams or nightmares similar to