The Cyborg's Runaway E-Book

Nova Edwins

• Herausgeber: Black Umbrella Publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: Royal Cyborgs
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 114

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

My father is angry with me for having a brain and not wanting to marry the first man he introduces me to. When he finally has enough of me being difficult—his words, not mine—he chooses a husband for me, and for some reason, he picks a cyborg. I smile and nod… and then bail the first chance I get. I'm not going to get married off like a good little wifey whose only job it is to look pretty. And to make sure that this wedding really doesn't happen, I'm going to ruin myself in the ecstasy districts of Asaverra. I really thought this through, and there's nothing that could go wrong with this plan. Absolutely nothing! Historical romance meets space.* Princess meets cyborg. Completely over-the-top with all the best champagne flutes, fanciest ball gowns, and shiniest crowns you could wish for.   (*No actual history or science involved.)

Leseprobe

THE CYBORG’S RUNAWAY

ROYAL CYBORGS 2

NOVA EDWINS

A DARK SCI-FI ROMANCE NOVELLA

CONTENTS

The Cyborg’s Runaway

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Epilogue

About Nova Edwins

THE CYBORG’S RUNAWAY

My father is angry with me for having a brain and not wanting to marry the first man he introduces me to. When he finally has enough of me being difficult—his words, not mine—he chooses a husband for me, and for some reason, he picks a cyborg. I smile and nod… and then bail the first chance I get.

I'm not going to get married off like a good little wifey whose only job it is to look pretty. And to make sure that this wedding really doesn't happen, I'm going to ruin myself in the ecstasy districts of Asaverra. I really thought this through, and there’s nothing that could go wrong with this plan. Absolutely nothing!

Historical romance meets space.* Princess meets cyborg. Completely over-the-top with all the best champagne flutes, fanciest ball gowns, and shiniest crowns you could wish for.

(*No actual history or science involved.)

1

MARCIA

Using the big wall display, I took a step back to get a full view of my findings. The composition of the microbial cells worried me. There were still way too many fungi in the soil, and it didn’t make any sense. If I could find a way to get rid of the excess, the produce coming from the fields where I had taken the sample should grow faster and contain more nutrients.

Comparing my notes from the previous sample with the latest one, the complexity of the problem still baffled me—especially since no one but me seemed to care if those poor people in the eastern districts starved to death while eating food that should actually prevent malnourishment.

The door behind me opened, and I could basically hear my father’s disappointment, although he didn’t say anything. He simply sighed.

I scribbled down two chemical formulas, so I didn’t forget where to start next before I turned around. "What can I do for you, father?"

He stepped closer to the table and frowned while eying my culture dishes. I was trying to study the different fungi, so it made sense to cultivate them. This way, I didn’t run out of samples for my various experiments.

"What is this monstrosity?" He lifted one of the containers and looked disgusted at the sight of the furry orange splotches inside.

"Do you really care, my King? I mean, I would tell you, but someone warned me not to bore you with long Latin names again."

My father put the container down and glared at me. "You should know better than to be this sassy. What will your future husband say?"

And we were at it again.

I wanted to claw my eyes out, but instead, I managed to simply smile politely. My father, the King of Nimmor, wasn’t interested in my answer. He would’ve probably preferred it if I had given myself a prefrontal lobotomy so I’d be more pleasant to be around for my future husband.

"I thought we talked about this, Marcia. You promised to stop with these… these… this… stuff."

It broke my heart that he called it 'stuff,' but I managed to smile through the pain. At this point, I’d gotten used to it.

I curtsied to soothe him. "You said I’m free to work until the wedding."

He sighed one more time for good measure. "Work. You’re a Princess, Marcia. One day you will be the Queen. You don’t need to work. Why can’t you simply be happy that you’re pretty? You don’t have to prove anything by working with your… stuff."

"Well, there’s a problem with the fields in the east, and since the farmers complained about scurvy-like symptoms, I kind of thought someone should at least take a look."

My father shook his head. "Their food is fine. They just want to get the taxes down."

"When was the last time you actually went out and met with the people of Nimmor? The children are all pretty small and don’t look well-fed. Maybe you can ignore it, but I cannot."

"I asked Seymour to take a look at it, and he insisted that everything is fine, that you search for problems where there aren’t any. He also said I should see to it that you get married to… um… calm you down."

"Is that the same Seymour who wanted to marry me despite being thirty years older than me? You know—the one who will be eternally pissed that I’m to marry a cyborg?"

If my father frowned any harder, the vein on his forehead might pop.

"Enough, Marcia. I can’t wait until I can hand you over to your husband so that he can worry about you. I should be happy that he didn’t meet you yet. If he knew how hardheaded, unruly, and sassy you are, I’d probably have to pay a hefty dowry for him to still take you. I’m lucky that you are so pretty, Marcia. I had more than enough suitors to choose from, but I still have to keep you locked away so that your future husband doesn’t find out how I tricked him into marrying an opinionated scientist instead of a dutiful woman."

"I still don’t get why you would let me study if you didn’t want me to use my brain."

"Because you wouldn’t shut up about it, and I figured it would keep you out of my hair until some other poor fellow has to deal with you."

I was really tempted to tell my father to go screw himself—King or no King. But I knew better. Instead, I simply took a deep breath to calm down.

"Is that all? As far as I know, I’m not married yet, and I would love to get back to work. I need to figure this out before I’m not allowed to help those poor people anymore."

The way father straightened his back told me I was about to get yelled at. "This is not all." His volume was impressive. I was quite sure the entire royal guard stationed in the outskirts of the district could hear him.

"What else is there, then?" I felt annoyed and wanted to tap my foot to ensure my father got the not-so-subtle hint.

"You will go to your rooms now and put on a pretty dress and a lovely smile. Your husband is coming to dinner so we can agree on a date for the wedding. I really hope he’s free tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" My heart was beating in the back of my throat, and I couldn’t breathe.

"Maybe I can talk him into tonight, so I can burn everything in this room and forget this disgrace ever existed."

To hide the tears stinging my eyes, I looked down at the tablet and uploaded all of my findings to a secure server only I could access. It was the same server that held my contingency plan. No matter how many times my friend Eden assured me that her husband Diesel wasn’t all that bad after she had also been forced to marry him, I had no intentions of marrying a stranger. I didn’t care if was human, cyborg, or made of tentacles. It was not happening.

"I assume dinner will be served at eight as usual?"

"Yes. I will escort you to your room. You know—just to make sure." My father stepped closer, and to my surprise, he actually grabbed my upper arm to drag me along. He pulled the tablet from my hand and threw it onto the counter. I could hear it crack as those things weren’t made to be thrown onto metal surfaces.

My father hauled me out of my lab and closed the door behind us, using his royal access codes to overwrite my signature, locking me out for good. My heart broke into a million pieces, and each one cut like glass.

I tried hard not to cry, yet failed miserably. Tears streamed down my cheeks and dripped onto the floor as my father dragged me along.

I wept for myself, the loss of my most precious achievements, and even for Eden. When she had been taken by Diesel, who somehow had convinced her that she actually wanted to marry him, I had made a promise to myself that I would have a better plan than her. She got tricked because her husband posed as her bodyguard and snuck into her life.

Eden tried to run away, but my plan was much more diabolical. Once I was done with it, no man would ever want to marry me. It was perfect.

My father stopped once we were outside my rooms. "Put on a dress, and don’t make me come and get you later. Understood?"

"Yes, father."

He looked at me and was smart enough not to trust me. "I have placed several additional guards at every entrance since you made it perfectly clear that you don’t want to meet your future husband, let alone get married to him. There’s no way out, Marcia."

"Understood." I gritted my teeth and balled my fists.

That seemed to do the trick, and he slowly nodded. "Dinner is at eight."

"Yes, father." I turned around and entered my rooms. While I walked to my closet to get changed—just not as my father intended—I pulled out my communicator. Now, what name did I give the files with the palace’s sewerage schematics?

2

ACE

The bartender put the fresh drink in front of me, and I nodded my thanks while swiping through the pics on my communicator until I found the one of Marcia I liked the most. It was the only one where she actually smiled. For a princess living in a castle and having everything she could ever dream of, Marcia of Nimmor sure frowned a lot.

Luckily for me, I had stumbled over her at a ball a couple of weeks back where she had been chatting and laughing with her friends. My future wife was simply breathtaking.

Her light hair sparkled like gold in the sun, and she had the prettiest heart-shaped face with blue eyes and lips that made me want to kiss her.

I showed the pic to Killer, but he just grunted.

Cocking one eyebrow, I looked at him. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

He flexed his big hands and wiggled his fingers. "I want a sturdy female who can withstand a rough cyborg fuck. Look at her—she’s frail and weak."

"A rough cyborg fuck? Is that even a thing?" I shook my head and put the communicator down. Killer had been in a foul mood for a while now, and I wouldn’t start a fight with him about the perks of my precious future wife—especially since my little human despised the idea of being married to any man. When I had seen her, I hadn’t been able to resist the temptation of eavesdropping, and I had heard her giving a passionate speech about men, society, shackles, and prison.

I found her to be quite amusing and certainly challenging. I liked a good challenge, though.

Killer eyed his empty glass. "I want a dragon female or maybe a Dahlih female."

"Dahlih? The warrior females with fangs and a quite famous thirst for blood?"

"I can always replenish my blood with artificial liquids."

"Why would you even do that?"

"Because humans suck. They lie, steal, cheat, and think way too highly of themselves."

"Not all of them."

He snorted. "Yeah, right."

"What about that princess you watched a couple of nights back because Diesel asked you to? Lyla? She’s pretty, isn’t she?"

"And?" He shrugged. "So is every pleasure companion in here—male or female. Why would I burden myself with a human?"

"Well, as far as I know, there’s no need for you to burden yourself with anything. The available princesses are all spoken for, and everyone knows how little you care for them."

"I really don’t get why you are grinning like that. Your princess doesn’t even want to get married, and you pretend to be the luckiest cyborg alive."

"I am. Didn’t you look at her?" I took a swig of my drink. Although I couldn’t technically get drunk unless I consumed huge amounts of alcohol, I enjoyed the taste a lot. It was fresh and fruity, with a sharp aftertaste. Much like Marcia, I assumed. I had never shied away from a challenge, and I wouldn’t start now. The beginning was probably going to be a little rocky, especially since the princess so far had refused to even meet me, but her father had assured me that she would open up soon. She apparently needed just a bit more time to adjust.

"She’ll drive you insane just like Diesel’s wife drove him up the wall. No thanks, I’ll ah’tze stick with what I know."

"Suit yourself. But don’t worry, I got your back. As soon as I meet a hideous female with fangs, a hunchback, and claws, I’ll be sure to send her your way." I put my hand on his big shoulder when the display of his communicator lit up with an alert that Killer had set up.

Princess Lyla was on the move, heading toward the northern districts.

I cleared my throat. "Care to explain?"

Killer shot me one of his signature deadly looks. "I must have forgotten to delete the notification set-up after Diesel asked me to keep an eye on her."

"I’m sure you forgot. That sounds exactly like you. Forgetting things—everyone knows that’s you."

"Shut your ah’tze mouth, or I’ll rip your tongue out and make sure you won’t ever be able to buy a new one."

"Now, that would be a shame since Diesel assured me that human women do enjoy a good tonguing."