Hers to Choose Read Free

“Go. See. Learn. If you return, we will welcome you back as a daughter of our people. But first, you must make this journey.”
    Sadness at her sense of inexorable fate overwhelmed Sophi. “There is no escaping this future, is there? I don’t want to leave you. I am whole in this place.”
    Mother Lyre reached out and gently placed her palm over Sophi’s heart. “We will always be here, wherever you go.”
    “I know you and my brother are right. This is my responsibility to our people and our planet. I will return to Sylvan Mintoth with Commander DeStroia.” Her throat choked closed, cutting off any further words. The older woman’s arm tightened around her waist and drew her close for a moment. Sophi laid her head on her surrogate mother’s shoulder and struggled against tears.
    “ While I am not the same person I was three years ago, I don’t know if I’m able to make any man a fit mate. I don’t know if I can do that.” Straightening, she sighed and walked beside Mother Lyre in silence. As the entrance to the village walls drew near, Mother Lyre stopped and faced Sophi.
    “I know the fear you leave unspoken, Sophi. I have confidence in you, even if you do not. Your brave heart will overcome anything that stands in the way of what you truly desire. You merely have to want it enough.” The older woman smiled at her. “When the right man comes into your life, your fear will vanish like mist in the morning sun.”
    But what if Commander Eric DeStroia is not the right man?
     
    * * *
     
    By order of Mother Lyre, Sophi bathed and dressed in her finest clothing. Her blond hair hung in soft waves to her waist over a sheer, finely woven white blouse. A short turquoise vest, heavy with embroidery and precious stones, barely covered her breasts. Its color enhanced her glorious blue eyes—made even larger by a dark outline of kohl. Sheer white pantaloons cuffed at her slender ankles softly outlined her long limbs. Finely worked leather sandals replaced her hide-skin boots. A heavy girdle of beaten gold links and tassels wrapped her slender hips and hung low onto her thighs, chiming musically as she moved.
    Her appearance created its normal response . Men stopped in their tracks and rudely gaped. I loathe their appraising stares. She considered her face and form a liability. She had not labored to produce her beauty. Her appearance was not a skill she had mastered from days and months of unceasing repetition. It drew unwanted attention of sort she most feared.
    Cool respite surrounded her as she entered the gathering hall. The thick, hollow tile walls tempered the blaze of sun and heat. A tall fountain playing in a central pool sent soft, cool droplets into the air. Columns of light speared into the large room from transparent panels high overhead.
    The buzz of conversation halted abruptly at her presence, then regained volume. Sighing, longing for her sisters-in-arms who treated her with the respect she had earned , she crossed the hall to Primus G’hed and his wife. They spoke with a tall, well-built man dressed in worn battle leathers. He held himself with an air of quiet competence and command, as if at ease with his ability to meet any challenge. He could only be Commander Eric DeStroia. Mother Lyre, you did not tell me how handsome the commander is . With her height, Sophi normally looked men in the eye, but she needed to tilt her head upward to meet his green-eyed gaze. His closely cropped, russet hair was disordered, as if hands had been run through it repeatedly. He was in distinct need of a shave.
    His green eyes flicked over her, appraised her, then returned to Primus G’hed. She straightened in surprise at his lack of reaction to her beauty. How nice. She moved to stand casually to the right of Mother Lyre.
    “Commander Eric DeStroia.” Primus G’hed indicated Sophi. “ Flight Leader Sophillia DeLorion.”
    The commander bowed. “It is a privilege, Lady DeLorion. The Segundo failed to tell me of