Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Jessina gave Aurora a shy smile, which my wife returned.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” she said.
“You too. Anyone who can make this big lug happy is all right with me.” Jessina grinned at her, looking genuinely welcoming.
“Oh, thank you.” Aurora blushed. “Well, I’m doing my best. So far he’s not too hard to please.” She looked up at me and winked, which made me grin despite myself.
“Really?” Jessina’s eyes opened wide. “Slade, not hard to please? I’ll believe that when I see it.” She looked at me. “Remember the time you—”
Luckily whatever embarrassing story she’d been about to tell was interrupted at that point.
“Now then, how about a welcome home drink?” Lyrah chirped—she hated it when people had conversations that didn’t include her. “Who wants a Slothian gin fizz? Or how about a Franglish whisky? Oh but not you, my dear,” she said, simpering at Aurora. “Now when you might already be carrying the heir!” And she patted Aurora’s stomach lightly and smirked. “I see at least you’ve gotten some new clothes! That dress is so much better than that dowdy gown you had on the other night. Though I’m afraid it shows that little bit of extra weight you’re carrying. But I dare say it’s just from the baby—right?”
“Oh, um…” Clearly Aurora wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t blame her. We couldn’t exactly announce to my family that I hadn’t yet Bred her. It was rude of Lyrah to even make mention of the fact that she might be pregnant. As for her saying something about Aurora’s curves, well that really pissed me off because I knew my wife was self-conscious about her weight—though she shouldn’t be. She was fucking perfect just the way she was.
That was my stepmother, though—she never had any fucking tact.
“I’ll take a whiskey,” I said, to draw her attention away from Aurora. “Neat. And my wife will have a virgin ladybird.”
“Oh, very well. I’ll put in the drink orders.” Lyrah made a face and headed towards the droid-tended wet bar at the far side of the living area.
Glad that my stepmother was occupied, I put an arm around Aurora and guided her through the marble foyer into the large living area.
“It’s certainly, er, very decorative in here,” she said in a low voice, her eyes traveling around the room.
I snorted.
“Yeah—you could say that.”
The highly polished, dark gray parquet floor made of boomsa wood from Sri’ex Four had been my mother’s pride. Other than that, Lyrah’s taste now reigned supreme.
There were bright, colorful paintings on all the walls displaying more wealth than taste—looking at them hurt my eyes. Even worse, the round living area had an expensive antique exercise couch—the kind that had been popular in the Court of Imperius the Fourth—in the center.
This prized piece of furniture was big enough to seat eighteen comfortably or twenty if you didn’t mind being crowded. It was also covered in slippery, bright orange mohisha hair which made it damn difficult to sit on without sliding off.
The couch had been designed for lazy nobles of the Imperium who didn’t like to exercise on their own. So the minute you took a seat on it, it molded to your body and started moving your limbs all around. If you weren’t damned careful, you would spill your drink all over yourself and wind up ass-first on the floor.
But the couch—as impractical and gaudy as it was—wasn’t the worst thing Lyrah had done to my family home. Standing around the perimeter of the room in a semi-circle were about twelve “living statues”—which was the latest stupid trend in home decor for people who had way too much money and time on their hands.
The “statues” were naked, semi-sentient clones, all of them painted with a marbled pattern to make them look like they had been carved out of stone. Every five minutes or so they would shift their positions, taking new poses to create new “art.” It was ridiculous and un-fucking-fair to the clones, as far as I was concerned. But my Sire had given Lyrah free reign with the decorating so she could do anything she wanted.
My Sire took a seat on the couch, which immediately gripped his legs and began exercising them by scissoring them back and forth, which looked fucking ridiculous. Lyrah took a seat beside him and the couch began moving her arms and legs too. She looked up at the rest of us still standing and made a face.
“Well, Hrake—have a seat!” she commanded her son.
Reluctantly, my younger half-brother had a seat on one end of the couch. I could see him tensing up, but it didn’t do any good. Once the exercise couch had him in its grip, it started moving him all around. Only myself, Aurora, and my sister remained standing.
“Well, what are the rest of you waiting for?” Lyrah demanded. “Have a seat—this couch is excellent for circulation.”