“Every time? What do you mean?”

“Twice a year, you must host a lunch for the officers,” I tell her.

“I’m glad you didn’t tell me that before; the only thing that got me through today was telling myself I would never have to do it again.”

“It was not that bad, was it?” I say, taking her small hand in mine.

“I almost bowed when I walked in; I was so tense. I forgot…” she trails off.

“You forgot you were not a servant. Yes, I noticed, but no one minds. It was only yesterday you were.”

“I don’t think your officers will be as forgiving.”

“They will come around once they know you better,” I assure her. “Now it’s time for a biology lesson.”

It’s my wife’s turn to squeeze my hand now. I look down at her, seeing the lust in her gaze. Hopefully, we will be able to fully get through this before one of us gets hurt. Water people are very fragile.

As we enter my quarters, I ask her to sit on the sofa as I activate the large computer display. I almost wish I had asked the doctor to do this, as I’m no doctor. Most of what I know is from galaxy gossip, the other commander’s experience with the other Water woman, and what I found myself through basic medical information. But I do not want the doctor or any other male near my wife talking about sex. I only feel like that will taint this time.

“Before I start, I wonder if we should have the doctor help us?” I say, gauging her reaction just in case she wants him to be her to reassure her. She looks as innocent as an animal before the slaughter.

“Are you really that dangerous to me? Or me to you?”

“The other commander almost accidentally killed the other Water woman, so yes. I suspect she did not tell you that did she?”

“Ironically, she left that out when she was telling me how good her life was compared to mine,” my wife confirms.

“So, there are some things we both need to know.”

“Why don’t you begin with what you know, and then if we still feel like we need instruction, we can ask the doctor,” she suggests, but then adds quickly, “Although I’m not going to allow him to watch us, give instructions, or turn us into a scientific paper on interspecies mating.”

“No, never,” I say; even though I think she was making a joke, I cannot always be sure. I bring up the diagram of a Silver male on the computer. “This is like me.”

She laughs, and it makes me feel more comfortable. I am somewhat concerned about how she will react when she finds out about my biology or accuses me of keeping information from her. Which I technically did, but it was not a conscious thought. I just blocked her from all information that was not relevant to her position.