Chapter Seven
Lotor watched as Allura ignored his offered arm and stormed down the hall. She was safely locked in her room within a matter of seconds. He took a very deep breath, trying to center himself. Her rebuke of his attention was stinging, to say the least.
It had been so hard not to touch her! She was so close and he dared not lay a finger on her. Not yet at least. He had to ignore his impulses and attempt to be platonic with her.
She will never come to love you if you force her, Lotor told himself as he fought his anger down. He had managed to get more time out of her then was planned and only when her body wearied did she become aware of the time passing.
He chuckled softly as he gazed down the corridor where she had gone. He was pretty sure that she had tried to bore him to tears with her details. He didn’t really care that the marble floor in the great hall had been imported from the other side of the planet. He just liked to listen to her voice, even as terse as it had been that evening.
Lotor ran his hand over his five o’clock shadow and turned back to his guard. They had done as they were instructed, keeping far enough away for privacy but near enough to protect them if an angry Arusian decided to take action.
Allura had felt no need for a guard as she served meals to her starving people but Lotor was no fool. Surely a resistance was forming. Arusians were too proud to accept him as the King Consort without a fight. They might even direct that anger to the naïve and trusting Allura.
Lotor took his time strolling back to the landing platform where his flagship was docked. He had a couple more hours to kill before he would require sleep and since he had fed his addiction right before his time with Allura, he’s be in a tolerable mood for a while longer. He took his time retracing their journey through the gallery, giving each portrait consideration. He thought it quaint that even with photographs and holographic images the royal family had opted for hand painted canvas portraits. He stopped before the most recent photograph of King Alfor, his wife, and a very small Allura. Even as a small girl she radiated beauty; her eyes as blue then as they were that very evening.
“Excuse me, Prince.” Lotor turned to see Allura’s advisor, Coran. Lotor nodded to the aged man but resumed his study of the painting. “There seems to be some interesting news from planet Doom.”
“ Korrinoth,” Lotor corrected, turning back to the advisor.
“Yes, Korrinoth,” Coran replied. “There seems to be a warrant out for your arrest.” Coran had been involved in the game of politics much longer then Allura and he was able to hide his emotions from his words. Lotor could only suppose that the news of his betrayal would make it to Arus sooner or later.
“Don’t you mean a bounty on my head?” Lotor asked, placing his hands in his pockets as he stared down at Coran.
“Yes, a bounty,” Coran relented with a sigh. “For crimes against the state.”
“For poisoning Zarkon,” Lotor corrected again. Coran frowned, the normally stern looking man looking more serious then normal.
“Your treaty with Allura,” Coran started. “It wasn’t with the full backing of Zarkon, was it.”
Lotor sighed. Leave it to Coran to cut to the point, even as he sugar coated the situation.
“The treaty is between my legion and Arus,” Lotor admitted. “The legion that set the sanctions and the legion that now provides the food and agricultural supplies needed by Arus.” Lotor smirked, knowing that even though Coran had made this realization, the contract was still binding and legal. Not that Zarkon would ever adhere to a Galaxy Garrison contract, but Arus had to.
“You have put us all in danger, Lotor,” Coran admonished, his face still void of any true emotion. “Zarkon will surely strike at us anyway he can.”
“Arus is always in danger of attack from Zarkon,” Lotor snapped, not liking the sound of his informal name on the lips of the advisor. He had to real in his temper though, Coran was not someone to trifle with. “It was only a matter of time before Zarkon moved against Arus again since he cannot seem to defeat Voltron. You are in no more danger now then before the treaty. At least now, my armada is here to aid in Arus’ defense.”
Coran raised a brow at that. “Then we better get another pilot for the blue lion trained.”
“Yes,” Lotor admitted, turning away for Coran but unable to focus on the painting once more. Lotor knew that Allura would hear of this revelation and she’d be understandably upset by it. He had hoped that it would take them longer to determine who was behind the poisoning. Zarkon did have hundreds of enemies that would have taken the opportunity, given the chance.
“Allura is like a daughter to me, Lotor,” Coran said boldly. “I do not want to see her harmed in any of these games that you play. If I hear that she was harmed in anyway because of these intrigues you play at…”
“Allura’s health and happiness is first and foremost in my mind,” Lotor snapped, suddenly very agitated. “If all I wanted was her virginity, I would have taken it already and been gone.” His hands had come out of his pockets of their own accord and Lotor was making fists before he thought about his actions. He quickly strode past Coran, leaving the old man speechless from his words. He hadn’t meant to snap at him but the thought that he would willingly endanger Allura was preposterous.
The chilled night air did nothing to quell his anger either.
Greig was the first to encounter him as returned to the ship. The fellow half-Drule did a double take at his expression and cringed.
“Was Allura a little rough on you?” Greig couldn’t seem to help but asking.
“Allura was fine, if a little prickly,” Lotor grumbled going straight to the training room. His hands were still not healed but he needed this outlet. His hands were shaking too badly to undo the infernal buttons on the designer shirt so he ripped it open, letting fall into a heap on the floor.
“Then what has your panties in a knot?” Grieg asked.
Lotor paused at the strange turn of phrase but squared off against the same punching bag.
“It’s that advisor of hers, Coran,” Lotor growled. “He actually tried to threaten me.”
“Whoa,” Greig breathed.
“What’s the report from Korrinoth?” Lotor demanded. He shifted his weight to swing his leg up and kick the punching bag near the top. The punching bag in turn swung from the force he used. “That damned advisor mentioned a bounty.”
“Ten thousand credits for your corpse, I’m afraid,” Greig admitted. “It was released a couple of hours ago. Coran got a hold of that information very fast.” He shrugged. “I don’t think that any serious bounty hunters will be after you for that little.”
Lotor paused his barrage on the punching bag to look Grieg over.
“You’ve been into the coffee again, haven’t you?” Lotor sighed, some of the tension leaving his body. His arms still shook but his vision wasn’t lined with red anymore. He still had six more days before the ceremony. Six days with precious little potion left. At least when he was around Allura he hadn’t noticed his thirst for it. Normally even when he had his fix it was in the forefront of his mind.
“It’s an acquired taste,” Greig admitted. “Besides, there is a coffee shop in town and lots of pretty girls there. One even asked to touch my ears.” Greig smiled at the memory. “The young ladies were more fascinated then scared of me. It was the older folks that gave me dirty looks and a wide birth.”
“Like Coran and that annoying Nanny.” Lotor lobbed another right hook at the punching bag, frowning as the seems finally gave out and the sand inside began to stream out. “Get this fixed. I’ll be in my rooms if anything happens. No more coffee.”
Greig saluted, more of a joke then a real salute but Lotor didn’t want to deal with the man right now. Lotor locked himself in his quarters and resorted to a frigid shower and a sleeping pill. Before he was enveloped by chemically induced sleep, he yearned for Allura. He wanted his hands on her flesh just as much now as when he first saw her.
Six more days, he reminded himself.
