fect medium-rare, sliced to reveal a juicy pink center, resting next to a colorful medley

d chair for her, his movements as pr

te her. Instead, he stepped back, assuming a formal parade rest

. "Captain, we're going to have

a'

ing in her chair to look up at hi

ith respect, the protocol for a Consort is clear. I am not to be se

nsider this a permanent, standing, non-revocable invitation. In t

authority in her voice, the casual way she dismissed centuries of tradition, it wasn't off

lled out the oppo

elting in her mouth in a burst of rich, savory flavor. A l

shed a deep red. He quickly looked do

to make conversation. "So," she began, "tell me abou

giving a report. "Hostile, Ma'am. The primary threat is the Insectoid Hive. We engage in daily skirmishes to maintain th

shes" hinted at a life of constant, brutal violence. As he described a recent engagement with a particularly nasty type of burrowing c

leave?" she asked,

ommission is at your disposal. If you require my permanent p

areer, his life's work, just like that. For her. The sheer, unconditional

said quickly. "I... I appreciate a man

onwealth, a Consort's only purpose was his Matron. His career, his ambitions, they were all secondary, tools to be used to better ser

rmal respect he held for her rank morphed into a fervent, burning

sy silence. When they were finished, Bradford stoo

le of the central island as she watched him efficiently load the plates into the automated di

der the fabric of his black shirt, running from his lower back downwards. In the relaxed, domestic atm

ial traits, her primary weakness, flared to life.

. Tiptoeing silently, she came up behind his large, pow

le, curious finger. An

was immediate

The cleaning cloth fell from his hand. A plate he was holding slipped, and he only just man

es wide with shock. And the red glow she had seen earlier was back, no l

, his voice a low, da