The Celestial Fairytales books 1-3: The Celestial Fairytales, #4

By K.M. Carroll

When humanity begins to explore the stars, they meet and clash with the alien Rox, fearsome horned humanoids. War rages for seven years with heavy casualties on both sides ... until the humans and Rox decide to try to negotiate peace.

 

Song of the Rose: a Beauty and the Beast retelling. Zayn is a human political officer who agrees to become a hostage while peace talks begin between the humans and the Rox. She is to be cooped up in a lavish manor house on a remote moon with Alnair L'Nath, prince of the Rox kingship clan. But can these two people of vastly different races ever make peace with one another?

 

Of Stars and Ashes: a Cinderella retelling. Two years after the events of Song of the Rose, Rasha L'Cervantes has been subjected to forced labor along with the rest of their clan because of their rebellion. While working in a quarry, she is befriended by a young neurolite, the silicon-based lifeforms that grow into the Rox warships. Later, when Prince Kraz is desperately searching for the bonded pilot of this fully-grown frigate, Rasha must attend a ball in order to claim her ship--and the prince's heart.

 

Fairer than Snow: A Snow White retelling. Justin Tiberius is a human medic aboard the salvage ship Parallax. When they recover a cryopod with a beautiful Rox girl inside, Justin finds himself plunged into the world of Rox politics, where to be voted the most beautiful is to be declared queen ... or to be ruthlessly assassinated.

• Language: English
• Publisher: K.M. Carroll
• Release date: Mar 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215159033

Book preview

The Song of the Rose

K.M. Carroll

Chapter 1: Hostages

Lieutenant Zayn was willing to do anything to stop a war. Except, perhaps, what Captain Danyl was asking her to do.

She stood at attention, her black uniform sleek and clean, the stripes marking her rank as ship’s political officer bright white on her left shoulder. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight bun, as regulations demanded while on duty. She kept her head up, eyes straight ahead, hiding the turmoil churning within her heart. But she could do nothing about the way her golden skin had turned grayish and cold.

Captain Danyl had been her surrogate father while on this six-year sojourn in space. His hair was streaked with gray, and his coffee-brown face was beginning to show lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth. You understand why it must be done, he said, gazing at her. Beneath the words, he looked imploring, seeming to beg for her forgiveness.

Zayn drew a deep breath, struggling against the fear that rose from her heart to choke her voice. I ... I’m not certain I’m the right one for this mission, Captain.

Zayn. Danyl looked away for a moment and swallowed. He stepped to the nearest window and peered out. They stood on the bridge of the ship Dawn’s Horizon, with windows and viewscreens on every wall. It was the night cycle, the Dawn lying in the shadow of the gas giant Beta Pictoris B, and the bridge was empty except for the night crew. They occupied the seats across the bridge and ostensibly could not overhear the Captain and Lieutenant, although likely they were straining their ears to catch every word.

Look at them out there, said Danyl under his breath. The flagship of the Rox, themselves. They know they have us pinned, here between the planet and the blasted accretion disc. We either negotiate, or they blast us into the gas giant. Our ships barely made it out of the battle of Sirius B.

Over his shoulder, Zayn watched the enemy fleet on a viewscreen. They floated in the gloom like splinters of broken glass. The largest ship, in the center of the swarm of ships, was a horrible spiky shape, like a caterpillar with pointed armor on every segment. The Pride of Talons. She had seen that flagship curl into a torus, like a caterpillar, and plow straight through the human fleet. Looking at it now, her stomach clenched.

I don’t see how it helps, she said. A hostage exchange will solve nothing if the Rox do not honor the agreement.

They claim that their hostage will be royalty, said Danyl. They ask that our hostage be equivalent. Since you're the daughter of the CEO of Starlight Enterprises ...

... and one of the primary shareholders, Zayn added.

Danyl nodded. You are as close to royalty as we have here on our fleet, without sending home to Earth. It would take years, and we don't have years. Even now, their harvesters are out in the accretion disc, collecting material for more of their weapons and ships. If we don't stop this conflict, they'll strike at Earth.

Zayn nodded. She knew what was at stake. She had known of the discussion of a hostage exchange, which the Rox had agreed to, after much deliberation. She had thought that Command would send one of the fleet admirals, not a lowly political officer. But she did own a majority share of Starlight Enterprises, along with her father. They operated Earth's orbital shipyards and built the military and civilian ships. They enjoyed enormous power and influence, and Zayn had gotten her position on the Dawn's Horizon through her contacts.

But becoming a hostage? She had never anticipated that.

Wh—where will they send me? she asked through trembling lips, looking at that horrible spiky flagship. She envisioned sitting in a black alien cell, being fed slime and insects.

We're still discussing it, said Danyl. At present, it looks as if you will occupy one of the estates the Rox have built on Pictoris's moons. Both humans and Rox will have access to the estate, to make sure supplies are delivered and no harm befalls either hostage.

I'm to stay with the Rox hostage? Zayn asked in horror. But they're demons! Horns and everything! He'll probably eat me alive!

That's why both sides will be keeping watch, said Danyl. You will not be allowed to harm their hostage, and he will not harm you. It helps that you are fluent in Roxanian. You are to remain on the moon until the human and Rox delegates can negotiate a ceasefire and peace treaty. It may take months.

Months trapped in the company of a demon from space. Zayn's stomach crawled with terror. But if she didn't agree to this, the Earth fleet had no one else to send. She was literally humanity's last hope. They could not afford any more battles with the technologically superior alien race. She had studied them for the last six years while learning their language, so maybe she would have a fighting chance at survival.

All right, she said at last, her voice unsteady. I'll do it.

BETA PICTORIS B'S LARGEST moon had been dubbed Aria. It was a beautiful green world with an oxygen-rich atmosphere and liquid water. The Rox had built homes there for their people who tired of space travel.

Alnair l'Nath stepped from the transport craft onto the terrace of the Nath estate, and his hearts sank. He was the crown prince, pride of his father, ornament of his mother, commander of one hundred fighting ships and their crews. And he was to become a hostage.

The human transport had already arrived. It was a dead mechanical thing, resting on wheels on the opposite terrace. Alnair's sharp eyes caught the flash of sunlight on armor. They had sent soldiers with their hostage, naturally. Alnair had come alone, partially to show the humans that he meant to honor the agreement, and partly because his pride would not allow him to ask for a detachment. He was the strongest of all of his brothers. He could fight an army of humans with his bare hands.

He followed the walkway from one terrace to another, his woven mail fitting his body like a second skin. In appearance, he resembled a human, but seven feet tall, his skull adorned by two black, curved horns. He had pointed teeth, sharp fingernails, and patterns of black scales that swirled across his white skin. Alas, if only he had been born red, like his youngest brother. But one could not have everything.

He slowed to a stately walk as he approached the humans, standing tall and throwing out his chest for effect. The humans gazed up at him, fear staring from their eyes. One man in uniform stepped forward.

Prince Alnair l'Nath?

I am he, said Alnair, speaking their tongue with regal clarity.

The man saluted, touching a hand to his forehead. It is an honor to meet you, sir. This is the human hostage, Zayn Starlight.

A tiny female stepped forward and saluted, as well. Alnair gazed down at her in astonishment. Her head barely reached to his elbows. You are royalty? he said incredulously.

Zayn glared at him, which was amusing on a smooth, undecorated human face. I am royalty, l'Nath. My death would bring about civil war. Would yours?

My death would cause my father to crush the perpetrator and all his kin, Alnair replied. He extended a hand to the tiny woman. It is my pleasure to meet you, Zayn of Starlight.

She trembled before him, but she placed her hand in his, showing courage for one so small. I am pleased to meet you, as well, Alnair l'Nath.

As soon as custom allowed, she withdrew her hand, perhaps a little quicker than was necessary. Her gaze had dropped to his long, sharp fingernails, filed into claws as a sign of his rank. He chuckled inwardly. His intimidating looks worked on humans, anyway.

Come, said Alnair. All of you. I will show you the house, and where your princess will be staying. She will be treated with utmost care.

He led them into the house, smiling at the way the humans gaped at the doors and ceilings built to accommodate the much taller Rox race. The house occupied the top of a hill, and was built in three levels. The top level held the terraces, the sleeping rooms, and a living space with places for sitting and study. The second level held more living space, a library, and the dining room. The third level held the kitchen, the washing facilities, both for people and their clothing, and the furnace.

Alnair played the gracious host, both to show his superiority to the human guards, and to study the woman they had sent. She reminded him of a Rox woman, but without the beautiful scales and horns. He read by her movements and energy that she was nearly crippled with fear, but trying to hide it, trying to do her duty, operating on courage alone. It reminded him of his dearest sister, the one who had died of lung sickness. She had faced her illness with the same courage. Perhaps humans and Rox were not so different.

Supplies will be delivered once a week, Alnair said, gesturing to a stack of boxes in the kitchen. I understand that our tastes in food are quite different. Humans are carnivores, correct?

Omnivores, Zayn corrected. We must have a varied diet of both animal and vegetable matter to maintain optimal health. She glared at him. We know the Rox are carnivores. We've seen your men tearing at the flesh of our dead soldiers.

Alnair winced. That is a battle ritual, not our normal diet. We, too, are omnivores. That is why we colonized these moons. If you look outside, you can see Harmony, silhouetted against the gas giant, there. She is a beautiful world, full of farmland and crops. I visit when I weary of war.

Do the Rox ever weary of war? Zayn asked.

Her superior officer cleared his throat. You two will have plenty of time to debate later. For now, we must unload our own supplies so Miss Starlight does not starve. l'Nath, will you bring servants of your own people?

No, said Alnair. The agreement was one human, one Rox, so neither has the advantage of numbers over the other. Now, other Rox do live on Aria. Their estates are down that way, among the trees. But they have been informed of the political situation and will not interfere.

The officer cleared his throat. So you two must prepare your own meals and, uh, keep house together.

It is menial, but necessary, said Alnair. I argued for a complete house staff, but the human negotiators feared that a single human woman in a house full of Rox would not live long.

Zayn studied his hands again. How do you wash dishes with claws like that?

Alnair mimed picking up an object in the tips of his claws. Carefully.

He watched as the humans unloaded their supplies, carrying the girl's belongings to her room, and her food to the kitchen cold storage. As they worked, Alnair inspected the power array on the roof and the south side of the house. It had been some time since he had visited the Nath estate, and he worried that the field reapers might not have been maintained. But he found the metal polished and gleaming, the readouts showing 100% efficiency. His father must have had it inspected before sending his son here as a hostage.

Alnair stood for a moment, gazing at the distant gas giant with its bands of purple and blue. Then he gazed the other way, at the accretion disc like a vast silver band across the sky. Full of gas, stone, and metal, the disc had been the reason the Rox settled this system in the first place. They had lived there for a hundred years before the king had begun sending out scout ships, looking for new worlds to settle. That was how they discovered the fierce human race, and the long war that followed had been bitter. Alnair welcomed the opportunity to make peace with them. His Choosing day was coming soon, and he wished to find a wife and settle down on an estate like this one. Battle was glorious, yes, but he could not bear any more death.

He returned indoors and watched as the humans said their farewells to Zayn Starlight. Then they departed, their machine lifting off and screaming into the sky. Alnair was alone with a human for the first time in his life.

He was curious about her, but terror radiated from her like electricity, making his energy sense ache. So he went to the library, instead, and settled down with a book. He listened as she went to her room and barred her door, and he sighed. So much for any sort of companionship to ease the boredom of his imprisonment. He resigned himself to reading and attending to daily calisthenics. Perhaps he would work on the house, itself. Add a new room or some such. He thoughtfully took down a book on architecture and made some sketches.

That evening, he ate a solitary dinner and went to his quarters. There was no sound from Zayn's quarters. If she did not appear by morning, he feared that he would have to check on her. It would not do for the human hostage to have killed herself the first day. Negotiations would be short, indeed.

Chapter 2: Rox

Zayn stayed in her rooms, alone, with only her fear for company.

They were nice rooms, if a bit too large to be comfortable. In Earth terms, the bed would be considered super-king-sized. The first night, she felt quite lost in it. There were no pillows, which made sense, because what would a horned Rox do with a pillow? Still, she woke up with a sore neck, and resolved to make a pillow somehow.

She had a bedroom, a sitting room, and a bathroom, all of which had high, airy ceilings and furniture she had to climb. The windows began at chest height, and afforded pleasant views across the forested landscape. She stood and watched birds fly, and longed to know their names. Extrasolar flora and fauna were her delight.

But Zayn could not overcome her terror of sharing a house with a prince of the Rox. He was huge, for one thing. Huge and strange, a man covered in scales, with demonic horns, and strange, slanted eyes with glowing red irises. He was the epitome of every terrifying news image of the Rox invading space stations and boarding vessels, killing and ravaging the humans within. Humanity was begging for peace with them, because the very idea of the Rox attacking Earth was too horrible to contemplate.

Zayn ate no evening meal, too sick with fear to tolerate anything. She slept badly, waking at every creak of the house or breath of wind, expecting that demon man to be forcing the door open, or climbing in a window. But he did nothing of the sort. She heard no sound from him at all.

By midmorning the next day, Zayn's body began to stubbornly demand food. Like it or not, she would have to sneak downstairs and open the supply boxes Captain Danyl had left her. Perhaps she could do it without attracting the notice of the demon.

She pulled a heavy chair away from the bedroom door and peeked out. The hallway was empty. No sound came from within the house. She crept out and down the stairs, wishing for a weapon.

As it turned out, her terror would not let her rest until she knew exactly where the Rox was. She searched the huge house on tiptoe, peering into every room. The house was empty, the door to his rooms closed. She listened at the door and heard the rattle of tools on metal inside. Good. She crept downstairs and located the boxes of food.

Zayn's only thought was to find something portable and dash back to her room with it. But to her annoyance, the ship's commissar had only sent along raw food items. She had flour, sugar, vegetables from the hydroponics lab, and plenty of canned meat. If she wanted breakfast, she would have to cook it.

She pulled out a cookbook that was buried at the bottom of a box, paged through it, and set about making herself enough food for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Once it was cooked, she took it all up to her room and locked herself in again. There. Now she didn't have to leave again for twenty-four hours.

Zayn set up her communication equipment and located the signal of Dawn's Horizon, hanging in orbit to act as support. Captain Danyl had forwarded several queries to her regarding orders from Command, so she settled in to resume her job as political officer.

Days passed. Zayn quickly figured out that the alien man rose and prepared his own breakfast early, then either went outdoors, or retreated to his rooms. Once he was safely out of the way, Zayn cooked her own meals, and retreated back into hiding, where she buried herself in remote work. She never saw her housemate, only heard him moving about the house and clinking dishes.

This might have gone on indefinitely, except that Zayn began to go stir-crazy. She saw only her own room and the kitchen, and the screen of her laptop. The daily blue skies and the songs of the birds outside drew her attention more and more. She had been in space for six years, and this was her first sojourn on any planet. Her craving for the outdoors and the breeze on her face grew to a physical hunger.

One day, after breakfast, when the alien was still in his own rooms with no sign of leaving, Zayn sneaked outdoors. She was delighted to find that the estate had wide, shady grounds, grown with some sort of mossy ground cover that was green and soft, but not remotely like grass. The trees were tall, shapely things, like graceful eucalyptus, but the leaves were fine and lacey. One tree baffled her entirely, because it seemed to be some sort of fungus, all tall loops growing from a single trunk.

She broke off a loop and was examining its furry surface, when a masculine voice said, Fancy seeing you here.

Zayn jumped horribly and whirled around. The demon prince stood a short distance away, carrying a shovel over one shoulder. Instead of armor, he wore trousers with mud-stained knees, and a loose tunic with laces down the chest. He would have looked like any human man busy with outdoors projects, if not for the black horns, and scales that swirled along his jawbone like a beard.

Zayn didn't answer him, only stared in panic, wondering how to escape to the house. He was between her and the door.

The alien winced a little. I mean you no harm, you know. No need to fear me.

His command of English was very good, with only a slight accent. Zayn's Roxanian wasn't so good, so she replied in English. We are alone, and you are armed.

This? he said, lifting down the shovel and resting it on the ground. I'm putting in an additional patio off the second terrace. It passes the time.

I'm sure it does. Zayn edged sideways, trying to circle him and return to the house.

The alien read her intent and gave a half-shrug. Well. Come see my handiwork sometime. He lifted his shovel again and walked away.

As soon as he vanished around the side of the house, Zayn ran like a wild thing, back to the door, up the stairs, and into her room. Safe! And still alive. She sat down at her laptop, refreshed from her jaunt outside, and energized by adrenaline and her narrow escape.

She wouldn't venture into the grounds any more, though. Too risky.

AFTER A WEEK, THE RESUPPLY ships arrived, a human ship in the morning, and a Rox ship in the afternoon. Zayn watched her window for the human ship, and hurried out on the terrace as soon as it landed.

Captain Danyl had made the journey in person to check in with her. He placed a hand on her shoulder and scrutinized her face. Are you all right?

I'm fine, she said, watching a soldier carry fresh boxes into the house. I saw the prince one time, briefly. Usually he keeps to his room, and I keep to mine.

That's as well as can be expected, Danyl said, shaking his head.

How are the negotiations? Zayn asked. She didn't add, How much longer will I be here? But she and Danyl both knew what she was asking.

He shook his head. There's been days of posturing, exchanging gifts, and introducing dignitaries on both sides. The Rox are all about ceremony. Their king is supposed to drop by tomorrow. Welcoming him will take all day, I'm sure. But he's the last one, and then the talks can begin. There's been a regular string of shuttles back and forth from their fleet to our station.

Zayn sighed. "I'm keeping up with my work, as long as the Dawn stays within range. Command has had lots to say about these negotiations, but they're four days behind because of how long it takes messages to transmit to Earth."

So we're on our own, Danyl muttered. It's not as simple as negotiating a ceasefire. It's about who owns the Centauri wormhole gate, and all the star systems we've fought over. We claim territory, they claim territory, who gets it? Danyl pinched the bridge of his nose, as if the thought gave him a headache. At least they're willing to negotiate at all. Our display of force at Sirius B scared them.

The humans had used thermonuclear weapons on the Rox. It had changed the whole war. Until that point, the aliens possessed superior weapons, faster ships, and had been relentlessly aggressive. But when the humans proved that they had harnessed the atom, the Rox backed off, turned defensive, and were more willing to communicate. It had led to these very negotiations, in fact.

But Zayn had dealt with the political fallout, had seen the terror on both sides when the Rox carrier evaporated into a ball of fire. It sickened her that her own people had stooped so low.

But it also sickened her when the Rox had attacked human stations and settlements and murdered every soul aboard.

She was sick of war.

I'll stay here as long as necessary, she said, straightening her shoulders. It's my duty.

I'm glad you see it that way, Danyl said, shaking her hand. And ... if you can ... speak to the Rox prince. He is highly placed in their political system. He may slip and tell you valuable things.

You want me to ... converse, she said, her mouth suddenly dry. With a beast two feet taller than me.

You are both here under a non-aggression agreement, Danyl said. Legally, he can't harm you. Just ... take care not to provoke him.

Right. As if she knew what might provoke an alien demon who carried around a shovel.

She prolonged the conversation as long as she could, unwilling to give up the company of another human being. But the captain couldn't stay forever.

Danyl left, bidding her to take care of herself. Zayn returned to her room and her work, but she watched for the arrival of the alien ship.

It landed that afternoon, a thing like a wasp with organic-looking spikes down its back. It extended six legs to land, and another Rox climbed out and spoke to the prince. This newcomer was smaller than the prince, with red horns and gray skin. Zayn craned her neck to watch them. They spoke together for a while. The red and gray Rox gestured a lot, as if speaking earnestly. The prince stood with arms folded most of the time, nodding or shaking his head. Probably talking about how the negotiations were proceeding on the Rox side.

It might be beneficial if she could learn what the Rox thought of the humans. If Zayn could hear their honest opinions, she could report to Danyl, who could pass on valuable tips. Any edge they could gain over the enemy was too valuable to pass up.

She studied the prince, although his back was turned to her and she couldn't see much. He was a few inches taller than his companion, and his shoulders were huge. His body narrowed to a slim waist and powerful legs. Again, he wore baggy pants and a loose tunic, sort of a long shirt that was belted at the waist and open almost all the way down the chest, with short sleeves. It was quite warm outdoors, almost hot, so she supposed the getup was comfortable. Black scales covered the backs of his arms and elbows. Against his stark white skin, they looked like splatters of tar.

After some time, the two Rox went to the ship and returned with crates of foodstuffs. They carried them into the house, where Zayn stood at her door and listened to their voices. Low, serious voices, discussing serious things. She waited for one of them to laugh, wondering what it sounded like. But neither man expressed any mirth.

The gray and red Rox departed, and the house fell silent again. Zayn opened her door a crack and listened. Rustling downstairs as the prince unpacked his goods.

She would approach him as he ate dinner, she decided. He might be in a good mood then, and willing to chat. If he was as starved for company as she was, he might tell her a lot.

THAT EVENING, ZAYN dressed in her black uniform, pulled her hair back, and put on makeup. One she was satisfied that she presented a hard, shrewd look, she strode downstairs.

The prince had cooked something in a big pot on the stove that perfumed the kitchen with the scent of exotic spices. Had he seasoned meat with cinnamon and garlic? She wasn't sure, but somehow, it smelled amazing.

The kitchen was laid out in a square, with the appliances against the wall, and countertops on three sides. The countertop that divided the kitchen from the great room had four bar stools tucked under it. The demon prince sat on one of these stools, his back to her as she entered, eating out of a huge bowl and running his fingers over some kind of glowing holographic interface emanating from a device beside him.

Zayn studied the situation. Sitting on a stool put her too close. She didn't dare help herself to his food, for fear of angering him, although her stomach growled. Maybe she would take a chair in the great room. That would put her a safe distance from the prince. If he made any threatening movements, she had a straight shot to the stairs.

As she stood in the doorway, the prince glanced over his shoulder at her. He straightened and swiveled to face her on the bar stool. Hello.

Hello, Zayn replied, drawing on her coldest professional manner. I wished to speak to you.

By all means, he said. Do you mind if I finish? He indicated his bowl with a spoon.

Not at all, said Zayn, marching to a chair and sitting down as if she owned it. I wished to discuss your side of the negotiations.

She watched him as he took a bite of something red out of the bowl. His horns connected at the base of his skull and curled around his head, past his ears, ending in sharp points at his temples. Rox fought with their horns, and human soldiers had quickly learned to never let them close enough for a headbutt.

At her question, he smirked, showing alarmingly huge canine teeth. What negotiations? It's been nothing but ceremony all week.

Can you explain the meaning of such ceremonies? she asked.

He swiveled to face her again, one hand on his hip. Has your race no manners? Your people have sent their top ranked politicians. We are sending ours. How else will they know each other's measure without the slow dance of hospitality?

His words had two meanings, she was sure. She met his eyes and saw that they glowed a dusky orange, nearly crimson. Yes, of course, she said. What's your opinion of a ceasefire?

The prince shrugged a huge shoulder and returned to his meal. It's about time. I've been telling father for months that we needed to change tactics. Ever since I learned your language, in fact.

Why would you do that? Zayn asked.

Learn your language? He turned his head to give her another wicked grin, as if they were discussing him stealing her soul. What better way to strike fear into the heart of the enemy than by insulting them in their own tongue?

Zayn couldn't tell if this was a joke or the truth. Did Rox have a sense of humor?

I meant, why change tactics, Zayn said, keeping her expression neutral.

The prince gestured with his spoon. "The