Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 144433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
"Yeah, well, I'm not going anywhere," I grumble. They are a little spoiled, my silly stretch birds. I watch as Mrrrkuss makes himself scarce, giving us privacy. I move to my husband's side and wipe at the smear of grease, running a finger along one pointed ear after I do so. "How's your project going?"
"Terrible," he says, but he sounds cheerful. "I have no idea how so many things break around here."
"Me either." I have a suspicion, though, and it's the contented look on my husband's face. That, and how quickly Mrrrkuss headed off to the workshop the moment he saw me. "We must just have old equipment."
"Old can be fixed," he says, eyes bright with enthusiasm. "Come, let me show you where I think we can improve this churner."
I'm not interested in plants, or gardening in the slightest, but I love the look on his face. I let him lead me over to the machine, since the birds are ignoring me now that they've gotten what they wanted. I oooh and aaah as he pries open the engine and shows me all the terribly tiny, complicated parts and the ones he wants to replace with new bits, the ones that need a quick repair, and the ones that are just fine. A churner turns out to be some sort of complicated soil processing machine, probably like a tiller that farmers use back on Earth. I don't know what we need one for, but it's so cute to see how excited Zhur gets as he talks about ways to improve the efficiency of it as he noodles with the controls.
"Think you'll be able to pull it all back together?" I ask, though I already know the answer. He will, because that's half the fun for him. It's like a giant, greasy puzzle.
"Oh, absolutely. I know where all the parts go. And I've got a set on order for the next time we get a shipment. The weekly supply shuttle comes in tomorrow?" His whiskers twitch, and he leans over to pull a gear out and cleans it with a filthy rag. His poor, snowy-white fur is going to be a disaster, but I've gotten pretty good at helping him comb it out.
Zhur has changed a lot from the spoiled diva I met when he'd first arrived on Risda. While his mane is a pristine white once more, it's cut to a shorter, practical length. His clothes are simple, even if he does love to have them tailored, and I find him in a one-piece work jumper as much as I do in a fancier sort of get-up. More than that, though, he smiles a lot. He loves the smell of the outdoors. And he purrs when he sees me.
Which reminds me. "It comes in tomorrow, yes. Do you happen to know a guy that calls himself Lord Purr?"
He looks up from the gear he's cleaning and makes a face. "Oh kef me, not another?"
"Another," I agree. "This one didn't even ask permission to visit. Just said he's on his way to look over our inventory."
"Better warn the females." He rolls his eyes and finishes with the gear, setting it back in place. "My brother has started a very annoying trend."
That's cute that he thinks it's all Rem's fault. "I'm sure we aren't helping."
My darling husband looks grumpy. "We're supposed to be outcasts and pariahs, not popular."
I laugh because he sounds so very put out at the idea that we're not reviled by society. He's right that it's become a trend to marry a human, especially in the upper echelons of praxiian society. It's seen as edgy and slightly daring to follow the Heir's example. It doesn't help that we had a rogue videographer that snuck onto our planet and took a bunch of vids of us and Rem and his bride when they last visited. Everyone was loved-up and cozy and instead of showing what a misery a human marriage is, it only made them more popular.
"I can't help it if we're happy," I tease my husband. "Try to look more miserable around me."
He huffs with amusement, picking up another part to clean and watching me through heavy-lidded eyes. His purr deepens and arousal shivers through me at the sound. "Think we can get rid of this Lord Purr before my brother arrives?"
"Here's hoping. We don't even know who he is." I grimace, trying to picture the mysterious Lord Purr. Is he old? Young? Kind? An idiot? I need to know how to appropriately match him or if I need to politely shove him on his way.
Everyone here in “exile” has their roles. Sanassa loves to run the household. Mrrrkuss fusses with the landscape. Zhur takes everything apart and fixes it. I meddle with people's personal lives. It's my hobby.
"Hopefully he won't be a problem," Zhur says, studying the piece in his hands intently. "Speaking of my brother's visit, you and I need to talk privately later tonight."