“Her? Her, who? Who’s calling? Who heard us?” Panic was clutching Trin’s throat again. A caller from Zetta Prime? That could only be—
“I’m fairly certain I have it right now, so here she is,” Two continued, not answering her question. “Have fun catching up!”
Without further ado, the viewscreen flickered and a familiar image appeared—a woman with pure silver hair and pale skin. She was looking at them with large, dark eyes exactly like Trin’s own.
Trin stared at the viewscreen with a sinking heart—it was her mother.
Chapter Thirty
“Mother!” Realizing she was still naked in Thrace’s lap, Trin looked frantically for something—anything—to cover up with. Thrace helped by handing her a large, fluffy yew-down pillow. She grabbed it and held it lengthwise against her naked body. “Mother,” she said again and then didn’t know what else to say.
“Lonarra?” Her mother stared at her blankly for a moment. “Lonarra Ellenna Trin, what is going on here? What are you doing?”
Though she had been out on her own for years, making her own way and captaining her own ship, that sharp, maternal tone still had the power to paralyze Trin with fear. Above all things she had always desired her mother’s good opinion. Now it looked as though it would be lost forever.
“Mother,” she said desperately. “I…I can explain.”
“You can, can you?” One pure silver eyebrow rose and her mother gave her a disbelieving look. “You can explain how you come to be sitting naked in the lap of a male who is also naked? And what was that you were saying about being pregnant, before we got a visual feed? Is this some kind of sick joke?”
“It’s no joke,” Thrace growled from behind her. “Your daughter was poisoned, Lady Trin. We had to save her life. That’s why we’re…” He cleared his throat. “In this position.”
“Is that so?” Now her mother’s icy gaze was turned upon Thrace, studying him as though he was some kind of pet which had suddenly gained the power of speech. “And whom, may I ask, are you?”
“I am Thrace S’ver, a Havoc of the elder line of S’ver and captain of the merchant class vessel, The Empress,” Thrace said, looking Trin’s mother right in the eye. “I am also, through a long and complicated series of events, currently your daughter’s loyal slave, bodyguard, and companion.”
“You bought a slave?” Trin’s mother looked at her again, frowning. “You know the Daughters of Zetta Prime frown on such practices.” She sniffed. “Among other things.”
“I know but I had to—for trading purposes on Yonnie Six,” Trin said quickly. “And Thrace is…he’s…” She tried to think how to put it. “He’s more than a slave.”
“What do you mean, more?” Her mother’s tone had turned soft and dangerous and Trin felt a shiver run down her back. As a child, she had known that the softer her mother’s voice got, the more severe her punishment would be. Thrace, however, didn’t have the benefit of that knowledge.
“What she means is that I love her,” he said, lifting his chin. “I love your daughter and I have pledged my life to her.”
“So this pet male of yours believes himself to be in love with you?” Her mother’s silver eyebrows rose another notch. “Which is presumably why I find you in the middle of this disgusting, degrading act?”
“No, Mother! I—”
“Enough excuses.” Her mother’s voice rose from a near whisper to crack like a whip. “I had hoped that the vid I was sent by a certain Lady Tam-tam of Yonnie Six was some kind of sick joke—a sham or a fabrication. But now I find you doing this.” She gave them both a look of deep disgust. “And don’t bother to try and play off the situation young lady, I know exactly what I am seeing and it sickens me!”
“Mother, you don’t understand!” Trin exclaimed. “I…I was poisoned. Like Thrace said—with passion berry wine! This…” She motioned with one hand, while she kept the pillow clutched tight to her chest with the other. “Making love with him…was the only way to save my life.”
“Then you should have let yourself die.” The words were spoken with such cold, brutal certainty that Trin gasped and clutched at her heart with her free hand. Her mother’s scorn and harsh judgment gave her an actual, physical pain—like an icy blade piercing her chest.
“Mother, please,” she whispered. “You…you don’t mean that.”
“And if you do, you’re a heartless bitch,” Thrace rumbled menacingly. “How can you speak so to your own daughter?”
“And how can you purport to care for her when you’ve ruined her beyond hope, you…you male?” Trin’s mother shot back. She turned her attention back to Trin. “There’s only one thing you can do now, other than killing yourself. Come home. Come home and subject yourself to the Purification of the Defiled. It is the only way.”
Trin felt her stomach do a slow, awful flip.
“The…The Purification of the Defiled?” It was a rite only the head priestess of the temple could perform—a horrible, painful ordeal which was whispered about with dread. It was mostly reserved for Daughters of Zetta Prime who had been raped or taken against their will in some way by a rogue male. Some said it was a fate worse than death—and her own mother wanted her to undergo it? “Mother, please…” she said numbly.
“Come home,” her mother repeated firmly. “At once. Have the ritual done. I will speak to the Head Priestess, Betina—I will tell her that this male bewitched you in some way and led you into defilement. I’ll make a large donation to the temple—she’ll do the ritual. And then…no one will ever have to know about this horrible thing you’ve done. No one…” She closed her eyes briefly. “No one but me.”
“But…” Trin was trembling. “But it’s supposed to be so painful and…and disfiguring.”
“Look at you!” Her mother’s voice dropped to a low, disgusted whisper. “Look at you, Lonarra. You were once one of the Unpenetrated. I was so proud of that—so proud. And now…” She turned her head. “Now I cannot even bear to meet your eyes.”
“Mother, please…”
“Come home. Quickly. Or I will be forced to go to the temple and have you declared one of the Defiled Dead.” She looked at Trin again. “I don’t want to do that, Lonarra. Don’t make me do that. Come home.”
Before Trin could protest again the image flickered and then died as the viewscreen went black.
* * * * *
“You’re not actually going to go, are you? You’re not really going to do that?” Thrace exploded when the evil woman who was apparently Trin’s mother finally vanished from the screen.
“I have to.” Trin rose from his lap—the encounter with her mother had made Thrace go completely soft so she was able to get up with ease. “I have to,” she said again, going to the clothes storage area and beginning to get dressed. “You heard my mother—there’s no other way.”
“No other way for what?” Thrace demanded.
“No other way for me to be forgiven.” Trin had pulled on one of her familiar black jumpsuits and a pair of black boots. She looked completely different from the female he had served on Yonnie Six but it wasn’t just her clothing that was changed.
Something’s broken inside her, Thrace thought, staring at her in concern and remorse. Gods help me but it’s true.
“Yes, it’s true—something is broken.” Trin spoke in a low, distracted voice and he realized that she must have heard him through their newly forged mental bond. “It’s broken but I can fix it…maybe. If I go home.”