Lunch with an alien was about as unbearable as Bo thought it would be. After their confrontation in the rose garden, he had turned her around and told her to walk back to the house. She'd gone, if mostly from the shock of the revelation that she'd be spending eternity with the creature. Normally, Bo would rather stab herself in the eye than march to an alien's orders in a revealing yellow dress to a meal set up in a dining room decked out in stolen human furniture and finery... But fear of a mass murdering war-machine did a lot of weird things to one's personality.

The dining room was a narrow place, lit with electric chandeliers and with no windows. It felt like a tomb, with low ceilings and statues staring at her from along the wall. Instead of a long table to match the room, there was a small circular one that looked completely out of place. The dishes on top of it looked more in line with the Beast's apparently luxurious tastes, however. Even the silver platters carrying their food, topped with patterned domes, looked like they were worth a fortune. Bo wondered if she could get away with smashing a few of the things, just to spite the alien now glaring at her from across the table.

"Sit," he ordered, and Bo had no choice but to grit her teeth and flop into her chair. The Beast slowly sat, with more elegance than she'd thought would come from an alien. He didn't say anything as he drew the dome off his food, and so Bo uncovered hers as well.

In a semi-circle, bright pink slices of some vegetable surrounded a salad with dried fruits sprinkled over the top. Bo hadn't seen such vibrant greenery in her life. The kind they grew at the camp were dry and barely serviceable, and what they sometimes bought from the towns was not much better. Here the leaves of lettuce looked nearly bursting with crispness, and the strange pink vegetable dewed with moisture.

Bo leaned in to surreptitiously sniff her meal while the Beast picked up a polished silver fork. The salad smelled like the yard, all green and damp and intoxicating. The pink slices, however, smelled more like citrus mixed with berries. Something about it was familiar. She had smelled it before. But, unfortunately did not remember from where, until it was already too late.

Panic suddenly exploded in her veins in the form of her chest tightening and her vision tunneling. Echoing memories of the feeling of wood splinters pressing into her arms from cage bars, the fluid language of aliens, her mother's calloused hands stuffing a prickly vegetable into Bo's short and chubby hands....

Bo dug her nails into the wrist of her other hand as hard as she could. The sharp pain and the blood beading against her fingertips, drew her out of the hole of memories that she had sworn to never open ever again. Her vision shifted back to the room, where the Beast was eating his salad in oblivion.

"This is alien food, isn't it?" she asked, her voice deceptively steady.

The Beast glanced up and nodded. "It wasn't easy to adapt it to Earth soil, but it eventually took. Your earthly vegetables are more nutritious than ours, one of the many reasons I suppose the Councils wanted to claim this small rock. However, I grow a few plants to remind myself... of a few memories I would like to keep."

Bo pushed her plate sharply away from her, nearly upsetting the water glass. "I'm not eating this," she said.

For the first time, the Beast's stoic mask slipped and she saw annoyance written across his features. He raised a hand to rub his eyes. "In case you've forgotten, you are obligated to obey my orders," he said, his words measured and level.

"Well, I'm not going to." She surged to her feet, wanting to head to the door, but finding her way blocked by Chan and Dent. Their lights flashed yellow, and Chan already had his clamps ready to capture her wrists. She spun on her heel to glare at the Beast, but he was watching her already.

"Why won't you eat it?" he asked, as if this was a casual conversation all of a sudden.

Bo blinked. "What?"

"What is it that's making you want to fight the entire room to avoid eating a few mouthfuls of a vegetable?"

Bo floundered for a moment, unsure of how to answer now that he'd asked. It wasn't the way of the aliens, to try and figure out the motives behind someone's actions. They were more of the "shoot first, ask questions later" sort.

"The memories it dregs up might be happy for you, but they are nightmares to me," she said through gritted teeth.

"What memories are these?" the Beast asked.

"None of your business," she barked. "I'm not obligated to share the terrors of my youth with one of the scum that caused it in the first place."

The Beast got his feet, his height unfolding slowly in front of her. He walked to stand in front of her, but didn't make any move to restrain her. Still, she couldn't stand being next to one of them.

"You disgust me," she said, heart hammering in her chest.

A smile worked at the edges of his mouth, but it was not one of smug power or amusement. It seemed sad and empty, like he had lost the meaning of a smile. "You aren't the first to say that to me," he said. Bo's brows furrowed. Who had said anything at all to the Beast of Lyx? Any human would have been too busy screaming their last breath away.

The Beast, seeming to wipe away the earlier hints of emotion, swept a hand in the direction of the table. "Why don't we sit back down? I can have Chan make you a new dish with more suitable vegetation."

Bo blinked but couldn't respond. She hadn't really thought he would cave or do what she asked. She had been expecting—in fact, wanting—a fight from him. Instead, he calmly walked back to his seat and began to eat his meal again. Bo half-turned to look at the door to the dining room, where Chan was just leaving. She could still storm out and go to her room, hoping to show him that he wasn't going to dictate any part of her life, including sitting at the dinner table. But her stomach rumbled and she realized she hadn't had anything proper to eat in days. Not to mention that her mouth watered a bit at the prospect of eating fresh produce that was so crisp and green.

The Beast, perhaps sensing her hesitation, glanced up. "Don't worry. Chan can make anything taste good, even if he is a robot."

Bo edged toward her seat and sat down, but kept up her frowning so that he knew she wasn't giving in. "How can he cut things if he only has those clamps?" she asked.

The Beast seemed surprised that she would ask such a question. He set his fork down and looked across the table at her. "You are interested in how the robots work?"

"Of course," she replied, before she remembered that she wasn't going to give the alien more than she could help.

"Their hand attachments are interchangeable. A strong magnet keeps them in place, but they can turn it off and on in order to reattach new ones. Chan has a knife model and some more dexterous finger models. But he'll often cut the meat with his lasers."

Bo's eyes widened. Well, she had to remember these robots had deadly lasers whenever she decided to escape. She wasn't too keen on losing a hand or a leg. Or a head.

A few minutes later, Chan appeared with a new dish. He did indeed have a different pair of attachments at the end of what could be called his arms. They were metal fingers, and held the platter much as a person's might. Chan placed the meal in front of Bo, and she uncovered it to find a salad identical to the one she had before, only without the alien food. Chan whipped away the old one as she finally picked up a fork and dug in.

After they had cleaned their plates and eaten a loaf of bread Dent brought in, the Beast signaled that she should stand and follow him out. The walked into the entrance hall, where Bo adjusted the top of her strapless dress and tried not to stare at the alien before her.

"I will give you the rest of today as a break," the Beast said. "Tomorrow, however, you need to be awake at dawn to report to Dent and get your assignments for the day."

Bo cocked an eyebrow. "Assignments?"

"Cleaning and other chores," the Beast replied. "The Service-Matons will let you know what to do when the time comes." After he finished speaking, his gaze slipped away from her. As if it was pulled by a magnet, it moved to the hallway they had just exited, and toward the large sliding doors that hid the room where he had made her stand in front of the rose paintings. Bo realized that he was done with her now, and his attention had moved on to other things.

"Fine," she said.

He didn't answer her or say goodbye. He merely walked to the sliding door and slipped through them into the dark depths beyond. Bo felt a shiver run up her spine, but shook it off as she climbed the grand staircase and headed for her room. She could finally be free of the dress, and she wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and forget that this nightmare ever existed.