But before I can figure it out, there is a chime at the door. It is my first officer. I must open it. We both know that. I look down at … my wife and apologize. “We will come back to this later,” I promise her and myself. Then I quickly get dressed. “Enter.”

After speaking with my first officer, I must go to the bridge immediately to deal with the other commander. I reluctantly leave my wife.

* * *

When I return, she is still wearing the blue dress and sitting in front of the computer. “I tried to look at the sexual practices of your people, but you still have that blocked for me,” she says, rising from the desk.

“I do,” I say. “I would rather teach you myself.”

She takes a seat across from me. “There’s no harm in me exploring all the information.”

I do not have the energy to explain this to her now, so I change the subject. “I will send for your box as your sole possession,” I say, and I do not allow myself to feel sorry for her. As my valet, I could not give her presents, and it was up to her to spend her salary or not. “I will have a bottle of wine brought in as well. We are celebrating, after all, even if we are a little delayed.”

She smiles at me in her Water woman way, showing all of her teeth, and it makes me happy. This is the first time she has done that since we married, and I think she is finally settling down a little. No doubt the wine will help.

“Who will you ask to do your laundry?” she asks me. “I don’t mind doing it.”

“People will talk if you do. It is not allowed, and I must, we must,” I correct myself, “Set an example.”

“If I’m not allowed my uniform, I’ll need different clothing,” she reminds me.

I get up and sit at my desk. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she replies, and I order some basic clothing for her. “I’ve only ever seen the farmers, your crew, and the other commander’s females. I don’t know what I should wear.”

“Not what the other commander’s females were wearing,” I say. “You will figure it out.”

“Will you allow me to access the dramas and all from the Home Planet now?” she asks.

“Not yet,” I say, and I can see her disappointment.

“But why?”

“Because you aren’t ready,” I say.

“What are you hiding from me?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why do you prevent me from discovering more about the Home Planet?”

“Trust me,” I say.

She does not say anything more about it. Then the wine arrives, and we each have a glass. She begins to relax, and we talk about the recent additions to the fleet, nothing personal. I am torn because I want to talk about personal things, but I also want to give her space to relax into this new situation.