Free The Barbarian Prince by The Barbarian prince

around waiting for Ualan to come have sex with her--or almost sex?
    Though, in the short term the idea had merit, in the long run she would go crazy. She was a writer, a journalist. Her mind craved knowledge and excitement. Her intellect itched for facts, no matter how mundane they seemed to others. Her very nature yearned for more, always more. No, Ualan and this simple tent-sleeping life he led were not for her. She would just have to keep the sensations he caused inside of her as a memory reserved for lonely, deep space nights, when only the stars and endless distance were hers for company.
    Sleep was too tempting to her troubled thoughts. Yawning, Morrigan closed her eyes and willingly let rest overtake her.
     
    * * * *
    Morrigan awoke alone to the soft humming of a bird. It was an odd sound, soft and long, and very out of place in her dreams. Before opening her eyes, she yawned, stretching her tired limbs over her head. She felt dead, as if she had slept for an eternity. Though her muscles were tight and pulled angrily as she moved, she was more rested than she had ever remembered being. There was a haze to her dreams, a haze to….
    "Ualan," whispered Morrigan in surprise. Yawning, she opened her eyes, seeing that he hadn’t been a dream. He was gone, but she was left in his tent. The torn strands of her dress were lying on the ground as proof of the night she barely remembered. The memories were muddled by a cloud in her brain. It was as if she were drunk, without the side effects of a morning hangover.
    She rubbed her temple. The recorder stuck irritatingly to her dry eye. She tried to poke it free, loosening it with several blinks until it slid. Morrigan yawned again.
    "Ualan?" she asked louder, her voice hoarse. She guessed he was gone. Morrigan sighed in heavy relief. She was glad he understood she was not staying. She had been worried he would make more out of their night together than he should.
    Rolling her neck, she noticed a pile of fresh clothing laid out for her on the end of the bed. They were more concealing than her outfit of the night before. It was a two-layered dress, but looked more comfortable than the harem gown. The under tunic was tighter fitting and light gray. It was the softest undergarment she had ever had against her skin. Sighing, she looked around for her underwear. She found them ripped, so had to go without.
    The over tunic’s sleeves were long, belling around the elbows. The dark blue-gray material was magnificent, fitted at the waist and flowing out in the fashion of a medieval tunic gown. Silver embroidery edged the gown in an intricate Qurilixian pattern and on the bodice, in the center of the chest, was the emblem of the dragon.
    Morrigan could understand how the rumors that the Qurilixian race was once from Earth started. There seemed to be much medieval influence in their lives--from their dress to their penchant for long hair. She vaguely remembered some of the married men having Viking-like beards and braids
    Smiling, she slid the gown over her head. It was kind of Ualan to leave it for her. She made a mental note to thank him. If she was lucky, he would let her take it with her back home. She would like to have a keepsake to remember him by. Squinting, she fingered her emerald, and wondered if she had taken a picture of him. If not, she would have to--just for later.

    Chapter Six
     
    The three suns were shining brightly on the red Qurilixian soil and the council that had gathered in the morning hours to observe some of the newly married men. Now, fully dressed in their customary clothes, the new husbands stood proudly. It was a good day for them.
    The brides were still abed. It was expected they would be absent this morning if the men had done their duty by them. The wine would have helped them into a deep, relaxed sleep--once sleep was what they chose.
    The King and Queen frowned to see that only one of their sons had made it to the preliminary showing. But it was not