http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php Nova, Anodyne Productions' premier RPG management software en-us john.doe@example.com Copyright 2025 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/873 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/873
Mission - Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location - The Palace

The Presentation of the Ladies was fast approaching, a ceremonial ball which began in the Court Season held in the Spring. The time drew near, and everyone who was anyone at Court would be there, twirling under the watchful eye of the Empress. The fact that Her Majesty wasn't doing her job alone this year didn't surprise Khalon; the poor woman had basically been barely holding it together since the attack on Antonius life. The fact that she had asked Lady Amalie to assist her provided him some amusement.

He sat in his Rome apartment overlooking the city. It was stylish, beautiful, and full windows and striking colors, but none of that was a surprise. He wore cream pants and a blood red Henley. The woman across from him, bold and strong with a beautiful, dangerous face decorated like a painting with smooth, glowing ebony skin. Something about her was otherworldly, and her eyes communicated she knew it.

“Lady Thora Nielsen has arrived, my Lord.” Came the voice of an aide, stepping into the sitting room for just a moment.

“Good.” He said, his eyes moving to the door. “Show her in.”

Just a moment later, the beautiful Danish girl stepped into his office. It was immediately apparent that she was mildly stressed judging by the slightly strained smile and stiff curtsy she offered to Khalon. She wore a simple but stylish enough emerald green a-line dress that flattered her figure, and her dark hair was pulled back from her beautiful face.

“Hello, Lord Price.”

Khalon watched as Thora entered the room, his eyes following the shape of her body and the unique and beautiful face she possessed. He watched differently than he tended to watch others, calculating and evaluating where he normally only charmed. He stood and approached her, reaching out and taking her hand gently.

“Lady Thora. I’m pleased to see you’ve made it to Rome in such timely fashion.” he said, turning his gaze to the dark woman on another couch. “Allow me to introduce you to Ashiya Kimia.”

Thora’s eyes moved over to the exotic looking woman and she smiled briefly, offering a nod. “Hello, nice to meet you.”

She followed along with Khalon as he led her by the hand, liking the feeling of it but more intrigued by the other woman.

The woman on the other couch didn’t speak, only watched with even more calculation than he had. Her eyes were a stark contrast to her skin and, though she was very beautiful, they were vibrant and vacant. Kalon brought Thora over to the couch where he’d been sitting and gestured to it, sitting down with her, his hand still in hers.

“Sit with me.” he said, his voice low and warm. “Is this your first time in the Imperial Capital?”

“I was here once when I was very little for some party I don’t remember, but I haven’t been since.” Thora sat down next to Khalon, leaving room between their bodies but angling her knees toward his. “It’s… a lot.”

“The best always is.” Khalon said, chuckling in a way that indicated he understood what she meant. “I remember the first time I came to Court as a kid. Overwhelming opulence. Spending time around royals..it was almost too much. Did you meet anyone interesting yet?”

“No, not yet. It was mostly just random attendants helping the new courtiers find their rooms and getting settled in. It is all rather involved with the extra security I imagine has been put in place, or maybe it’s like that all the time? I’m sure I don’t need to tell you about it.” Thora gave a soft laugh though it was slightly nervous.

“The Imperial Guard takes their task very seriously.” He said, returning the smile as the moonlight streamed in through sheer white curtains. “I suppose you’d like to know why you’re here?”

“Yes, that would be nice.” She smiled, then glanced back over her shoulder at the woman still sitting silently. One manicured brow lifted just a bit, but then she slowly turned her attention back to Khalon politely and with expectant energy.

“You are going to learn all the skills of a Courtesan. And then you’re going to use them on someone very important.” He said, pointing to the other woman. “The art of seduction, the art of lovemaking; Ashiya will teach you.”

Thora blinked once, the smile still on her face, but she seemed more stunned than anything. “What?”

Khalon grinned, licking his lips amusedly.

“You heard me.” He said simply. “She's a master. It’s very important to me that you learn everything you can so that you can be successful. I hope that isn’t a problem?”

Thora moved then, her body shifting and her hands both moving into her lap. “Sorry, I just want to make sure I understand you correctly. You want me… to learn how to please a - well, I’m going to assume a man - and then… follow through with doing that to someone? Who?”

“You'll know who soon enough.” Khalon said, looking at Ashiya’s fascinated face. “If you end up passing her little tests and show you have the skill for this particular assignment.”

“Mm…” Thora made a slight face. “Is this person over three times my age?”

Khalon burst out in a controlled, genuine laugh. He understood her concern and had no problem showing her.

“No, not at all. And he’s kind, fit, and decently handsome.” He said, honest. “There’s nothing to worry about there.”

The young woman was obviously still skeptical, but she did seem to at least believe Khalon when he assured her that the man in question wasn’t extremely old in her eyes. She licked her lips and squeezed her hands together slightly. “And… you’ll be able to assure me of a decent match for a husband at some point even after I do this?”

“That won’t be hard at all.” He said with a nod. “After all, with your beauty and my clout, you could have just about any single man you want. Pick one, and I’ll make it happen.”

“And you would provide the other things we discussed when you visited my home?” She asked, being vague as she wasn’t sure how much the courtesan observing them was supposed to know of whatever this arrangement would be.

“If I said I would do it, I will.” He said, locking eyes with her, his expression smoldering and full of challenge.

“Girl, look at me.” the other woman said, her voice low and sweet like honey. She leaned forward, her large breasts straining the wrap dress she was wearing. “I want to see what kind of potential you have.”

Thora was about to say something else but stopped when Ashiya spoke to her. She blinked and turned to face the woman, looking into her eyes with her own curious, nervous gaze. “Okay…”

Ashiya stared at Thora for several silent seconds, her observant eyes flirting purposely from her eyes to her lips, her body to her hair.

“Why are you here, girl? And don’t bother telling me the answer Lord Khalon would give. The reason you came here, risking so much on a whispered promise.”

“Because I want to do something with my life.” Thora replied honestly. “My family is wealthy, but not that wealthy. If I want to do anything meaningful other than marry a rich lord, I am going to need resources to do so.”

“And you’re willing to do whatever it takes to get that?” She asked, leaning forward slightly. “Be honest. I only like sweet lies.”

“I’m not going to kill someone.” Thora stated bluntly. “But… anything else I can think of… yes.” She let out a breath, feeling the weight of what she had just committed to, but unsure of what it would mean for her in the end.

The woman smiled, her white teeth a perfect contrast to her skin.

“Have you ever been with a man, or have you gotten all your experience from boys thus far?” Ashiya asked, looking comfortable and curious.

Thora shifted, this time demurring slightly and brushing a lock of her dark hair behind her ear. “Ah… boys, I guess. One boy.”

“Good. One puppy is an experience where big dogs might be overkill.” She said, then looked to Khalon. “She's a bit shy, but I’ll fix that. She’ll be just fine. She might even end up being a better student than you were.”

“Um…” Thora blinked and looked at Khalon, the question plainly there, but she decided not to ask. She doubted he would answer her anyways. “I’m… glad.”

“You should be. Your life will never be the same once you see the world from my perspective.” Ashiya said, standing up, her body long and beautiful. “Lord Price, I will take my leave. Thora, I’ll be in touch with my schedule in hand.”

“We appreciate your services.” Khalon said, looking at the woman with a wink. As she left the room, he turned back to Thora. “Now I can tell you a hit more. The Crown Prince is becoming a man. There are many forces in this city, who mean to exploit that fact in order to control him, and, therefore, the future of the empire. Believe me when I tell you I'm not one of those people.”

He leaned forward, grabbing her hands again, his eyes fast on hers.

“I want the a Crown Prince so distracted he doesn’t have time for schemers.”

“You… you want me to sleep with the Crown Prince?” Thora asked, her face scrunching slightly again and her body becoming tense. “Isn’t… isn’t he engaged?”

“Whether you sleep or not is entirely up to you.” Khalon said with a smart raise of his eyebrow. “And yes, he’s engaged to a very good girl prepared for a very vanilla relationship, and I'm certain he’s perfectly happy with that. The problem is he’s never going to make it past the wolves with ambition and large breasts. That’s where you come in. You’re going to take hold of his dick like a rudder and steer him straight ahead.”

A thread of frustration crossed Thora’s face. “You know exactly what I meant when I said sleep with him. Is that what you want?”

“I want you to fuck his brains out and play with his hair.” He said with a nod. “You knew exactly what I meant as well. “Keep him happy, satisfied, and distracted, but don't catch feelings. This is patriotism and nothing more.”

“Why aren’t you just having his fiance do this?” Thora asked as she stood and began to pace a small area of the room. “And what about his family? What if they find out I’m doing this? What if my future Empress finds out?”

“Have you ever met Lady Amalie?” He asked, looking more amused than curious. “She’s got no venom at all. She won’t do anything to you, and with my support, she won’t be able to anyway.”

He squeezed her hand, a challenge in his expression.

“Don't tell me you’re afraid of a 15 year old China doll. And trust me, if she knew why you were doing this, she would thank you 1000 times.”

“Why would she thank me?” Thora stopped pacing and looked at Khalon with a confused and still frustrated expression. “I imagine she would prefer to do it herself.”

“Because she’s a virgin and an innocent who is being constantly watched by the keepers and ladies sent with her by her father. They couldn’t so much as walk in the gardens by themselves. Ironically, shes the only girl at Court he wouldn’t be able to fuck.”

The young woman just stared at him, her lips pursing and her brows raising. “Are you really going to sit there and tell me for all the strings you people in the palace can pull, that you really couldn’t figure out how to get those two alone and unattended?”

“Very smart people have been on this project, Thora. When one has been to court, one either learns to play these games or one goes nowhere.” he said, not really being interested in having an 18 year-old from some random city try to poke holes in his plan. “She might not even put out. You will.”

“Pretty sure if the future emperor tells the future empress to bend over, she’s supposed to do that or risk not being the empress anymore.” Thora pointed out, her voice still flat. She waved a hand then, “What do you get out of all this anyways?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” Khalon said, suppressing his annoyance at her implication that his plan was flawed. She really didn’t know anything about the situation. “The future Emperor won’t tell you to bend over. He’s a virgin and he thinks he’s happy to remain that way. I’m telling you to.”

“What if he actually is happy to remain that way and he won’t sleep with me. What then?” She wrapped her arms around her body, accentuating her own very impressive chest.

Khalon smiled; looking down at her figure.

“Not likely, my Lady.” He said , his voice smooth and warm. His presence was as intoxicating as ever, but it seemed to intensity in that moment. “If you know what you’re doing, he’ll go for you if he’ll go for anyone.”

Thora noted that wasn’t really an answer, but she could also tell Khalon wasn’t exactly in an answering mood. “What if his sister finds out?”

“Hopefully, you won’t be that sloppy.” Ive answered, but licked his full lips, calm. “But I have an excellent rapport with both the Orsini daughters. I’ll smooth things over.”

Her brows went up. Sisters? Royal ones at that? The man certainly liked to play with fire. Hopefully she didn’t get burned with him. “Alright.”

“You’ll have a week to learn under Ashiya before the Presentation of the Ladies. If I were you, I would make myself scarce at court. It will help you make a first impression at the right time.”

“I have no problems doing that.” Thora let out a breath and reached up to brush her hair back. “Is there… anything else?”

“Not quite yet.” He said, eying her. “For now, my car will take you back to the palace.”

“Um… okay.” Thora blinked and blushed slightly as he brushed her hair back from her face. “I think that’s all for now. If I have any questions or need to contact you, is that alright?”

“Of course. Just be careful. Subtly is our weapon just as much as anything else.” He answered, standing and kissing the back of her hand slowly. “Until next time.”

“Y-yes. Until next time.” Thora’s blush only deepened when he kissed the back of her hand. It was a gesture she was used to receiving, but there was something different about how this one was delivered that triggered interest and desire. She withdrew her hand a moment later and curtsied to him. “Lord Price.”

With that, she made a hasty retreat.

END
]]> Wed, 07 May 2025 05:28:31 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/871 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/871
Mission - Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location - Amalienborg Palace

Amalienborg Palace had stood in the city of Copenhagen for centuries. The four separate palaces that comprised the area all served their own purposes through the years, sometimes strictly as residences for the Lord Mayor’s extended family, sometimes as government buildings, but their exteriors had remained largely the same with the only upgrades made being those for added security, even then they were closely styled to the original architecture. For the past three generations, the Nielsen family had ruled Copenhagen as Lord Mayors. They were popular enough with the citizens, though the city lacked notoriety despite being the capital of Denmark; the country had been continuously overshadowed by its northern Nordic neighbors for decades, and it didn’t seem like that would change any time soon.

The Lord Mayor’s residence was a hub of activity. Only two days ago they had been informed that High Lord Khalon Price of Mars wished to visit them. There was no reason given, but Alma Nielson, wife of Lord Mayor Karl Nielsen, had certainly been sent into a frenzy to make sure her house was in perfect order to entertain someone of Lord Price’s rank. Part of that order included making sure her newly turned eighteen daughter Thora was presentable and understanding that she must do her best to impress. In Alma’s mind, what else would Lord Price be visiting them for?

A single sleek black car with unseen wheels and a seamless transition between body and window slid past the guard posts outside the palace, having signaled the identity of the VIP it carried. When he traveled off of Mars, he was often accompanied by the Martian Guard. He had decided to forgo that formality for this occasion. This meeting would be as discreet as it reasonably could be. It wasn’t lost on Khalon that a lot of buzz centered around him, but he had managed to avoid the paparazzi.

The car stopped and the back door seemed to appear out of nowhere as it opened. A man stepped out in a cream colored suit that hugged his frame like a glove with a white button-up left open at the collar and a brown belt to compliment his polished shoes. As usual, he smelled like a dream, and he smiled handsomely as a slightly flustered-looking attendant came over to collect him.

Before he knew it, he was being ushered into a beautifully decorated reception room where the Nielsen family had gathered to welcome him. He started with a powerful handshake to the Lord Mayor. It would be up to him to introduce the rest.

“Good evening, thank you for having me, my Lord. I’m Lord Khalon Price of Mars.” He said, his introduction perfectly superfluous.

Karl’s grip was strong in return, and he offered a respectful nod to Khalon. Karl was a man who screamed “average”. There was nothing noteworthy about his looks; slightly above average height, average features, average fitness, average brown eyes. The man would never stand out in a crowd, but he was at the very least dressed fashionably in a navy suit with his blonde hair slicked back.

“Welcome to my home, Lord Price. Allow me to introduce you to my family.” He angled his body to the side and brought his wife up with one hand. “This is my wife Alma.”

Much like her husband, Alma was quite average. Shorter and with a perfectly “okay” body a bit on the fuller side as if she had never lost the weight from bearing her children. Her face was pretty, but that was obviously due to the careful application of makeup to make her look her best. Her navy dress was last season’s fashion, but it did look decent on her. She curtsied to Khalon.

“It’s an honor to host you here.”

“The honor is mine.” Khalon said, searching her blue eyes with a devastating smile. He took her hand in his and pressed his lips to it, ever the charmer. Then he turned to the others in the room. “And these must be your children.”

“Yes.” Karl said and turned toward his three children. “My eldest, Karl Egon, regretted he couldn’t be here, but he had already made commitments of attendance to another social gathering. This is my second son Johannes.”

Johannes, like his parents, was rather average in basic looks, but at twenty he seemed to understand his own failing and had remedied that quite a bit by looking after his grooming and fitness. He was well muscled, and his sandy blonde hair was styled in one of the popular longer cuts. He reached out for Khalon’s hand.

“Pleasure.”

Khalon shook the manna hand firmly, no question about his own confidence. His smile retracted to one more fitting for a man.

“Johannes. Nice to meet you.”

“And this is my youngest daughter Ida.” Karl indicated to a girl who was likely around eight and dressed in a cute purple dress. It was hard to tell whether she would inherit her parents’ average looks at this age or not, but she smiled up at Khalon brightly, seeming unashamed she was missing one of her front teeth.

“Hi!”

Khalon’s smile brightened tremendously. He’d always loved little kids. He shook her hand gently.

“Hi, Ida. You’ve got a lovely dress on.”

Ida smiled and immediately grabbed her skirt, holding it out and twisting her body back and forth to show off her dress a bit more. “Thank you. It’s my favorite one.”

Karl seemed content to allow Khalon to decide when he wanted to disengage with Ida on his own, and only when he did so did he finish the introductions.

“And this is my eldest daughter Thora.”

Thora was decidedly not average in the slightest. High cheekbones, full pink lips, piercing blue eyes, and a head of thick dark brown hair that almost seemed to sparkle in the light. Her body had modest but noticeable curves, but what truly stood out was her impressive chest that seemed to strain against the confines of the form fitting black dress she was wearing. The only average thing about her was her height. She tipped her head to Khalon and then curtsied, sending a wave of her hair tumbling elegantly over a thin shoulder.

“Lord Price.”

As far as looks went, she would certainly do the job. He’d done his research and knew that she was beautiful, though he would have to admit he was surprised at how beautiful. He gave her a once over, offering an expression that was warm and inviting, though there was a hint of edge to it.

“You are a vision.” He said, taking her hand and leaning down. His full lips met her knuckles slowly and his eye drifted back up to her face. “Your reputation holds up to reality, my Lady.”

Thora demurred, lowering her eyes from his more intense gaze, but before she spoke they briefly flicked back up to look at him. “You’re very kind, Lord Price. I’m not sure yours truly does you justice though.”

Khalon’s grin turned genuinely amused. The compliment came easy, but what impressed him was something much more important: she was smart. Hopefully smart enough to take the deal he had to offer. He looked at her a long while, a sort of intense calm settling between them.

“Lord Nielsen, I'm sure I could stare into your daughter’s eyes all evening.” Khalon said, not shifting his gaze as he spoke. “Have you thought about having her apply for a season at court? I’m sure all the boys there would fall over themselves to arrange a match with you for her hand. I certainly would.”

Karl opened his mouth to answer, but it seemed Alma couldn’t quite contain herself any longer. “Would you really?” She asked, taking a step forward toward Khalon and looking up at him. “We had thought about it but the competition is so… fierce.”

Khalon squeezed Thora’s hand and then released it, turning to her mother.

“It is, but not when you have a face like Thora’s and a brain between your ears.” Khalon said, talking about the game at court more than anything else. “I’m surprised you haven’t sent her yet.”

“I wanted Thora to finish her education. It is important to me that my children are educated and up to date on current events so they can carry on conversations.” Karl noted. “She’s also reached the age of majority as of last month, so we can truly consider what would be her best match.”

Thora simply stood quietly, quite used to being talked about in this way when she was standing right there, it was relatively common practice after all.

“It’s a tough selection to pass. Her Imperial Majesty is very selective, and cares more about blood than she does about brains or beauty.” Khalon said, eyeing Thora. “I could pull some strings and get you a spot if you’d like. One look at you, and some powerful Lord would do anything he can to get a ring on your finger.”

“Well who could say no to that.” Alma replied for her daughter and continued before Thora had any chance to speak. “Would you like a tour of our gardens, perhaps? They are quite lovely this time of year.”

“Yes, I really would.” Khalon said, Grace fully in tact as he turned to the 18 year old woman. “Thora, will you show me the beautiful gardens?”

“Of course, Lord Price.” Thora replied. Her voice was softly accented and pleasant, and when she smiled it lit up her face even more. “Please.”

She indicated the way they would be going and then started to walk. Karl gestured for one of his house guards to follow as chaperone. As they exited the main palace and headed along the well kept path, the man seemed fully inclined to give them their entire space while only keeping them in eyeline, but he didn’t seem too worried about that either.

“Sorry about my mom, she gets excited.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s normal.” Khalon said, waking with her at a slow pace among the evening flowers. “To be honest with you, most mothers get excited when I’m around. I couldn't tell if you were excited though.”

“I’m too curious to be excited, really.” Thora shrugged, replying honestly. “I can’t figure out why you would possibly be here. It surely isn’t for me, I’m a relative nobody and you’re High Lord of Mars; it isn’t like we have met before or had any sort of friendship that might override the fact my family is small and my city doesn’t have much to offer.”

“Because I heard you were beautiful and intelligent.” He said, striding next to her confidently. “Intelligent enough to know when an opportunity is too good to pass up.”

“Oh? What kind of opportunity might that be, Lord Price?” She asked, looking at him with a quirked brow and skeptical gleam in her blue eyes.

“Rubbing elbows with one of the most powerful people in the Empire, learning things no tutor could ever teach you, and in the end, a match that will change your family forever…if you’re good.” He said, looking at her with an expression full of dark mystery and seduction. “How does that sound?”

“I’d say it sounds potentially dangerous.” Thora replied honestly and shrugged her shoulders. “Who would the match be with?”

“I’ll tell you after you say yes.” Khalon said, licking his full lips. “Nothing else would do. Caution is the first step of conquest. I can tell you no one of any importance is going to find you here.”

“You’re right, but trouble also won’t find me here. I can’t say yes without knowing a little more.” She shrugged again. “It wouldn’t be intelligent of me.”

“Well you can’t learn anymore.” Khalon said frankly, though it almost sounded like good news coming from his honey lips. “Do you want a life with no trouble? Marry a wealthy commoner from Copenhagen and settle down to a quiet life?”

“That doesn’t sound so bad, really.” Thora paused at one of the large flowering bushes and considered it. “You can surely give me at least a hint of what I would be doing.”

He walked with her in silence for a few moments, and it wasn’t clear if he was thinking or merely letting the peace of the garden descend on them for a space.

“Maybe I can, but it depends.” He said, finally breaking the quiet. “What do you want, Thora? Not what you’re supposed to want or what your parents want for you. What do you want?”

“I’d like to live a little and do something meaningful before I’m trotted out like a prized broodmare ready for auction.” She said honestly while looking at him. “Like, I want to settle down eventually but I’m only just eighteen.”

“What I’m proposing would give you memories to best those of anyone, even the highest echelons of the court. And it wouldn’t be permanent.” He said with a grin. “Perhaps a bit risky but I’ll protect you on my honor. You’ll be able to return to your life here whenever you want.”

“Hmm… and what other benefits would this offer besides some match at the end and memories?” She asked, her eyes falling on his full lips as he grinned.

Khalon watched her, reading her expression with crystal clarity. He paused in his walking and leaned in just a bit.

“Again, that comes down to what you want, Thora.” He said, his voice low.

Thora looked between his lips and eyes as he leaned in closer, eventually pulling back just slightly to give herself space. “Well, what if I said you?”

He smirked, turning and walking with her again to keep up appearance.

“I’d say the feeling is mutual.” He said. It wasn’t the first time he’d strung a woman along, after all. Princess Elena was a prime example. It was messy work, but if that was the angle, that was the angle. “Do what I say when I say it, and there’s nothing in the Empire I won’t find a way to get you.”

This time, Thora smirked. “I’m young, but I’m not that naive, Lord Price. I simply wanted to know if you were going to be honest with me… because how could I trust you at your word if you aren’t?”

“Wise enough to know that I came here with some power behind me, and that I can give you what you want quite easily.” He said, eyeing her. “Whether I will or not depends entirely on circumstances. I’ve made certain other commitments which prevent me from..giving you what we both want for now.”

They took a bend in the garden, his fingers moving to brush the flowers gently.

“I take it you aren’t a virgin.”

“Well that is an entirely rude and improper insinuation.” Thora’s brows raised. “Why exactly would that matter in this case?”

“Yes, it is, isn't it? Being gallant all the time gets a bit boring. Seduction is full of lies, and you want honesty. Or so you say.” He said, looking at her. “I’m asking because I want you to make someone very powerful fall madly in love with you. You’ll be taught the skills if you’re willing, but I’m curious how you see the world and the power you wield in it.”

“I’m willing to learn new skills for the right motivation.” She walked closer to him, her blue eyes trailing over his profile. “You sound like you could offer that indeed.”

He eyed her, realizing she was exactly the girl he was looking for in this mission he was on. She had a mind that understood the Terran nature. She was perhaps interested in him, but she was also trying to manipulate him.

“Would you consider yourself a discreet person?” He asked.

“If I wasn’t discreet, you’d have facts, not insinuations, don’t you think?” She replied, her voice flirtatious and mildly challenging.

“If you weren’t discreet I could teach you to be.” He said, pausing and putting his hand on the base of a garden statue. He observed the fine craftsmanship for a moment in peace. “You’re as discreet as you want to be. I’m busy in Rome building a house of cards. Someone like you..might try to knock it down. So I’m afraid I have to ask you again…”

They were obscured by the statue now and could no longer be observed by the guard, a man who seemed genuinely unworried about this fact before. Khalon leaned in a bit again, his eyes locked in hers.

“What do you want? You don’t have the mind of a girl who wants some fun.”

“I’ll be honest with you and say I don’t exactly know right now, but whatever path I take I know I will need money and connections. I want to build a life that is mine before anyone else’s, and I will need those things to do that. I want to be able to invest in things, build a business, and not have to rely on someone else unless I want to. I want the power of choice.” She leaned in closer to him, not shying from him.

“If you can give me that, then I will give you what you need.”

“I can.” He said, his eyes moving to her perfectly formed lips before he looked back into her eyes. “Expect a call from the Palace in the next few days, if you’re committed. As soon as you get to Rome, following all the formalities, come to me. You’re good, but you have a lot to learn before we begin.”

“Well then I shall see you soon, I imagine, Lord Price. Now are you going to stay for the rest of the day, or what excuse shall I give my parents as to why you hastily left my home?” She asked and quirked a brow.

“Tell them you’re going to Court. They won’t care about the rest.” He said with a mirthful grin. “Until next time, Thora.”

He turned then and walked back toward the guard without her, making his way toward the palace and the exit. He had accomplished what he’d come for, and no amount of work would get him any further along. Only once, he turned his head and looked over his shoulders at her, his eyes full of interest and mystery, and then he was gone from her view.

Thora was watching him go with interest, but it wasn’t the extremely intense interest that Khalon was used to from most women. Instead it was subdued, desiring, but understanding the desire would likely never be met. Once he was out of sight, she turned with her escort and made her way back to the house to inform her parents that she would indeed be going to court, but they didn’t need the other details.

END
]]> Wed, 07 May 2025 05:26:37 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/868 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/868
Mission - Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location - The Pyramid

It seemed to Giana at times that she spent more time in her office at the Pyramid than she did anywhere else these days, and in reality she likely wasn’t that far off. It wasn’t as if she had something or someone waiting for her at home, and with the amount of work she had when one considered all of the roles she was playing in her life, it was likely for the best. She stood at the back of her office looking out of the massive window that served as the fourth wall in its entirety. Her thin arms were wrapped around her thin body, and a mild frown rested on her beautiful face. While she had physically restored herself after CJ had approached her over a month ago, Giana still wasn’t sleeping well and was constantly exhausted. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a full night's sleep. Her day was predictably full of meetings, though these two were the last. One was a meeting with CJ, and the last one would be a meeting with Khalon. Truthfully, she wasn’t looking forward to either. The office door opened, and her assistant spoke up just enough to be heard.

“Chancellor Zajak is here to see you.”

“Send her in.” Giana replied, pulling herself away from the window and taking her seat behind the large white desk.

Several moments later, her door was opened by an aide and the Chancellor entered with the Director of Imperial Intelligence in tow. CJ wore a white blazer and black suit pants with stylish, comfortable shoes she’d acquired from Bella Gia and Nolan walked rigidly in his signature smokey pin-stripped suit. They both moved with modest, smooth confidence, two operators from different sides of the tracks. They bowed and curtsied at once before the desk.

“Your Highness.” CJ said. “I brought Director Nazar along as I anticipated the topic which is likely foremost in your mind.”

“It is good to see you both.” Giana nodded and gestured to the two seats in front of her for them to sit. Once they were settled, she sat back and folded her hands together, the Emperor’s blue eyes peering at both through long, dark lashes. “I’m sure you aren’t wrong in what I want to talk about, so please, update me on the current situation with the Romulans.”

“The Romulan Ambassador had an..unfortunate accident. His villa in the countryside was reduced to rubble by a bomb that several expert sources can confirm was designed, built, and shipped to Terra in a chain from Cardassian Prime.” Nolan said, having received a nod from CJ. “He, his wife, and their three children were killed in the blast, along with several servants.”

“A tragedy.” CJ said, looking almost sad. “First Consul t’Nairrehk has been beside herself with concern. He was, after all, her maternal uncle. She’s doing her best to stabilize her government, especially considering the wild accusations the Second Consul is issuing that we are responsible for his death rather than the Alliance.”

“A ludicrously unprovable accusation based on no physical evidence whatsoever, I assure you.” Nolan added, his cold eyes falling on Giana. “The emergency workers are searching for the Ambassador’s remains, but the explosion was so devastating, it’s an impossible task. Some even dare to speculate he isn’t dead at all, but rather hidden away in some dark deep hole..where no one will ever hear from him again.”

Giana listened to the two intently, her eyes moving back and forth in turn as they spoke. She found herself mildly annoyed that they were giving her the runaround and not simply being direct when it was she who enabled them to do any of this, but she supposed it was natural for them, and she would simply have to read between the lines. It wasn’t her forte, but she had gotten consistently better about it over the past few months. After a few long beats of silence, she gave a sigh.

“How terrible for them. Make sure we do everything we can to figure out exactly what happened.”

“Yes, ma’am.” CJ said with a knowing expression. “The Ambassador had a Klingon friend he liked to visit once every few months in the depths of space. He has gone silent.”

“And when was the last time the ambassador visited this friend?” Giana prompted patiently.

“Just a few days before the massacre on Palvo.” CJ answered, her meaning clear.

“Our suspicion is that the Ambassador was an important link in a chain of intragalactic figures who oppose the cooperative efforts of the Empire and the Republic.” Nolan said, pursing his thin lips together. “The Klingon is only another link in that chain.”

“My chief question has been how high the chain has been forged. It seems this conspiracy involved at least a handful of influential Romulan statesmen.“

“A good question… and one that would be best served answered quickly, I would imagine.” Giana ran a hand idly over the polished white wood of her desk. “Do we know where this Klingon is?”

“He’s returned to Qo’noS, hiding in some dark hole where he believes we can’t touch him.” Nolan answered, his eye contact unwavering. “He’s quite wrong, but that makes no difference. He won’t be able to give us the answers we desire.”

“We believe the two of them were mere middle men, working to further the ends of higher ups, ma’am.” CJ responded. “If that’s the case, the Klingons can do nothing for us. Rather, we will be looking for who directed the Ambassador.”

Giana listened to the pair in front of her, focusing on their words and allowing them to lead without being overt as much as they could. Things just seemed to be more comfortable that way. “Fair enough. Do we have any leads on that?”

“Yes, Highness.” Nolan said, reaching up and touching his chin for an instant, a rare move from a typically stoical and unnaturally constant man. “How much do you know about the L’Haan Party in the Romulan Senate?”

“Nothing detailed. I know they are an opposing
party to the current one in power and they lean more toward neutrality in the war we wage against the Alliance.” Giana supplied.

“Officially, they desire neutrality. Some of the major members of their party, however, have been known to advocate for a closer relationship with the Alliance.” CJ explained. “The Ambassador was a known associate with some of those individuals, and our suspicion is that he may have been cooperating with some plot designed to destabilize our relationship with the Republic.”

Giana looked at CJ when she spoke, but when she was done the woman’s blue eyes drifted between CJ and Nolan again. “How confident are you on that being a possibility?”

“At this point, ma’am, it is something like an unconfirmed certainty. Our only source of that certainty has confirmed it, but under duress. We have a network of agents working to confirm the truth of the matter and to figure out the main players.” Nolan reported. The assignment went far beyond those limits, but Nolan kept that to himself.

“So, we are stuck waiting?” Giana asked slowly, a note of uncertainty mixed with apprehension in her voice.

“At the decision-making level, yes.” He answered. “But rest assured, your highness, Imperial Intelligence is hard at work to get to the bottom of this and identify those responsible.”

“In the meantime, the Romulan First Consul has issued a rebuke against the Alliance for this attack, but significant numbers in her government suggest that we are responsible.” CJ answered with a calm tone. “If there were any overtures between the Romulans and the Alliance, the death of the ambassador has certainly thrown confusion into it. The same can be said, however, for our relationship with the Romulans.”

“I would imagine so.” Giana paused then, considering what she had before her. “Usually, we would make some sort of overture as a token of our friendship. Perhaps we might do the same here… what might be beneficial to us?”

“The Foreign Secretary has suggested the same. A public show of support for their cause would at least give us an opportunity to advance our own aims in their name.” CJ responded, steepling her long, slender fingers. “We could deliver them a scalp from the Alliance which they couldn’t easily refuse without indicating they’re playing both sides.”

Folding her hands in front of her, Giana nodded. “That sounds reasonable, is it safe to assume the two of you have someone in mind?”

“Certain evidence has been made to suggest that the Ambassador’s accomplice, General Korr of the Alliance, is responsible for the plot to kill the Ambassador. This is the same man that fled to Qo’noS.” Nolan reported, folding his leg and looking at the princes with serious calm. “Taking him out and reporting it as assistance to the Romulans would seem quite helpful.”

It was quite clear Giana was paying attention to what was being said to attempt to make an informed - and correct - decision. While she knew better than to have implicit trust in literally anyone, the two people sitting before her had been loyal and true to her father and CJ had been loyal to Giana herself; they had their motives, they wanted power, but if their motives were aligned and true to the safety and prosperity of the Empire and Emperor, they could have their power. “Very well. When could this be done?”

“A few days at most.” Nolan said, the slightest hint of a smile on his thin lips. The man would be dead in hours, but a bit of wiggle room never hurt.

CJ’s foot tapped for an instant, a rare flicker of restlessness from a woman who was typically as even as an undisturbed pond. She had been given the authority to handle the situation herself, but it was always safer for a career to get a royal to share the responsibilities for any successes or failures. If one sticks one's neck out too far, one get one's head cut off.

“With your ascent, ma’am, we’ll move forward. Some smart actors in the Republic will know that it’s a set up, but enough of the Romulans will be convinced to throw their diplomatic realignment with the alliance into serious chaos. In the end, the easiest and safest bet would be to remain our partners. We predict it will create an opportunity for a serious political realignment. We already have an ideal candidate in mind to form a new government, if it comes to that. At the same time, we’ll put diplomatic pressure on them to actually engage militarily in joint ops. Ramsay has made it clear he wants joint fleet deployments with Imperial and Republic ships connected at the hip…less chance for any more double crossing.”

“Or more and just of a less subtle kind.” Giana replied dryly while her blue eyes rested on CJ. It was quite clear that the princess was entirely less than thrilled by the prospect of a continued relationship with the Romulans, and who could really blame her considering. Still, there was a certain set to her jaw that indicated a grudging acceptance. For now.

“Do what needs to be done and keep me informed. Is there anything else?”

“One of the inefficiencies of a weak state is competition for control of affairs.” CJ said with a subtle smile as she rose. Nolan stood with her. “Nothing else, ma’am.”

“Thank you for your time.” Nolan said, his voice rigid and droning.

“I look forward to our next meeting.” Giana bid them goodbye with a nod; it wasn’t exactly clear if the words were genuine, but with her personal stake in the matter it seemed likely that they were.

The pair turned and left together, CJ moving gracefully in the lead and Nolan following behind her. Later, they would have a brief conversation about how well the Princess-Regent was managing her role, a fact that gave CJ no small amount of joy.


It was only a few minutes before her aide returned, announcing that Lord Price was ready to meet her. The woman turned to go get him, but was shocked to find that he had already followed her back and was standing in the hallway behind her. She grinned awkwardly and stepped aside, and Khalon walked into the office.

He wore a dark grey suite with a custom, crisscross design, a pair of polished brown shoes, a bold red tie. As always, he smelled like a cologne ad. He offered her a curious expression, knowing she was tired even from his place at the door. She was always tired, it seemed.

“Your Highness.” He said smoothly.

“Lord Price.” She greeted in return as the door was still in the process was closing, but as soon as it was Khalon could see her shoulders drop into a more relaxed position. Her face did the same, and he could see exactly how tired she was, though there was something else there this time, some sort of deep apprehension. This time she stood from behind her desk and moved to pour herself a small glass of wine.

“Would you like some?”

“I never miss a chance to drink with you.” He said, stepping in and sitting down on one of her couches, his body language growing more familiar. He crossed one leg over the other, watching as she grabbed the wine. “If you don’t start getting some sleep, I might have to start drugging you, ma’am.”

“Gods, don’t ma’am me, Khalon.” Giana half scoffed, though it was through a mildly amused smile. “I swear I’m starting to hear it like a mother bird hears her chicks constantly screaming for food ‘ma’am, ma’am, ma’am’.” She raised her voice to sound small and childish to parrot the words, then chuckled as she poured the second half glass of wine. It was an amount that wasn’t meant to bring relaxation, but it was a typical amount to bring the edge off nerves - and serve as a bit of a shield.

She walked over to the couches and gave him his wine, then took a seat in one of the chairs across from him so she could face him. “I need to talk to you about something… personal and rather sensitive…”

He accepted the glass, his fingers brushing hers in a way that belied a casual flirtation that had become a pattern for him with her. He lifted an eyebrow, leaving the drink resting in his hand for now.

“Personal and sensitive.” He said, smirking slightly. “My specialty.”

Giana eyed him in a way that easily communicated he was about to not enjoy this conversation anymore than she. She raised her glass and took a sip of her wine, then took a deep breath after swallowing it. “The gods have seen fit to keep my father away, and I do not know how long that will last. Our older brother was a monster of a man not worth anything in this world or the next.. But I have no more brothers, I have no uncles or cousins I trust besides one, and frankly I don’t know his… moral character well enough to approach him about this.”

If Khalon had been a different man, he would have leaned forward. Instead, his wine glass went to his full lips and he sipped, his eyes glinting with curiosity. He didn’t interrupt, only let the silence create space for her.

She didn’t continue immediately, instead just sat there looking uncomfortable and for the right words to say. She took another sip of her wine and then finally a deep breath. “My brother is… reaching a certain age…”

A small smirk crossed Khalon’s face, but he maintained his composure, taking yet another sip. He would let her finish, but this was certainly getting interesting.

When she saw the smirk on his face, Giana was immediately mildly annoyed. She was certain he knew where she was going with this and instead of helping, he seemed to be enjoying her discomfort. She pursed her lips and looked away briefly, wondering if perhaps it was a mistake, but who else could she talk to? Ramsay? He would be appalled. She knew Paolo was close to his trainers that had been with him the past few months, but they were largely peasants and minor nobles who wouldn’t understand the weight of the choices needing to be made.

“I’m afraid his age is going to make him do foolish things with the wrong sort of people. That needs to not happen. I’m sure usually fathers or older brothers or other trusted men in a family would help with this, but as I already said, I’m fresh out of any of those.”

“With Lady Amalie?” He asked simply, his voice smooth. He knew she seldom exercised her sense of humor, so he wasn’t really surprised to see the flash of annoyance on her face. It was a funny, awkward little problem. He figured a Princess might not see it that way. “Because, if it's a matter of her virtue, stranger things have happened.”

“No.” Giana paused, still seeming to try to be diplomatic about it, and then gave up with a disgusted sigh. She put her wine glass down and crossed her legs.

“I’m afraid Cuntessa or a woman like her is going to fall on top of Paolo, smother him with her tits, and his dick is going to accidentally slip into her while that’s happening. She’s been after him since he was like twelve. It’s gross but not unexpected. Problem is he’s a fifteen year old boy, so he’s quite interested.”

Khalon nodded, his eyes widening ever so slightly as he saw the issue. He licked his lips, deciding to keep the humor to himself since she wasn’t ready for that.

“Don’t think I’m being dense here, but I just want to understand your perspective and hopes here.” He said, looking her in the eyes squarely. “Are you concerned that he will break off his engagement and hurt his intended?”

“I don’t think he would break off his engagement, no. My fear is Contessa will grab him by that stupid teenage dick of his and yank him around whatever way she wants to. That is a risk that I’m not willing to take. Now, I will be very clear in saying that I will not allow that to happen, but for the sake of peace I’m hoping some alternate… enticement could be offered. Someone unproblematic and loyal.” Giana held his gaze, still clearly hating this entire topic, but also resolute in her belief in its necessity.

He smiled again, less mocking and more impressed than before.

“That depends. Does he like her personality best or those gigantic fake balloons she wears under her dress?” He asked, a rare instance of crudeness. “Either way, someone can be found, but it would be a hard sell. It doesn’t seem to me like your brother is exactly ready to rip a random woman’s clothes off. He and Contessa have history, as you noted.”

This time, Giana did giggle in genuine amusement. It seemed she appreciated the crude, and given her own turn of phrase over the last few minutes, it likely wasn’t all that surprising. “Did you care about a girls personality when you were fifteen?” She challenged mildly. “I know it may be a difficult thing, but the fact is Amalie is too young, really, and her virtue should be protected if possible. If we can place the woman in his orbit often, perhaps things will sort themselves out and I’ll see about Contessa perhaps having less time to wave her balloons around.”

He seemed to consider the situation for a few moments, studying her as he did six he looked at her with an expression full of mystery and interest, not showing his full mind in any situation.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Giana. This seems like a long shot to me. Of course, you know your brother far far better than I, but I don’t know where we’ll find a woman to bed him who won’t try to wed him as well. They wouldn’t be less crafty than Contessa by far, of course, but honestly, how long could an affair with her last? He isn’t even the Emperor anyway.”

He sipped his wine again, watching her.

“I can go on the search if you’d like, but it might be better to just take care of her..save yourself the trouble. I could do it myself.”

“I don’t particularly want to kill her. Despite seeing her exactly for what she is, she is useful and does give Paolo a good financial education. I’m also relatively sure she single handedly keeps my father’s blood pressure from dipping too low by showing off so much cleavage.” Giana shook her head. “Paolo isn’t Emperor yet, but he will be. Perhaps sooner than he should be, if the gods are cruel. I will not allow another Lisya to harm our Empire in whatever form she may take now. I would like to think with how everything is playing out, she might realize that it is a poor choice, but I think like many women she feels powerful men will protect her. They won’t.”

“Alright.” He said, seeming to take her perspective very seriously. “I think searching for someone a bit closer to his age..someone more developed. But I think it might be hard to keep Amalie from finding out. And that may end up keeping him faithful anyway. A few tears from those big blue eyes and Paolo might take vows of chastity.”

He laughed, leaning back on the couch more. He considered the history; an Emperor and an Orion mistress. It was a tale of weakness and misrule, and he was no more willing to see the Empire suffer such a curse that she was. Perhaps, in the process, he would visit Contessa and make her an offer that would give her a portion of the status she wanted.

“Well that would be much preferred if he did.” Giana shook her head and smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “As for Amalie, whatever comes she will simply have to accept it as any woman does. What other choice would she have; not be Empress?” She waved a hand. “If you have any other ideas on this matter though, Khalon, I’ll listen. I’m not a man, this is simply outside what I know. I can only see the big breasted snake in the grass.”

“Honestly?” He asked, then pressed on without waiting for confirmation. “I think Paolo is getting red blood. No one is tempted like an Emperor, but he’s not there yet. Women will throw themselves at him all his life, and if he grows up to be a looker, it will be even worse. I would suggest you let him get it out of his system and show Contessa her place. Then, if she makes a move, she disappears.”

He sipped the wine and then licked the remnants off of his lips.

“But, if we can control who he fucks, all the better. I can look for some experienced young common girls and we can arrange to have them put on his staff in low level positions. That, or young ladies from noble families who will try with all their might, at their parents' insistence, to do what Contessa is doing.”

“You know, I don’t think I would be nearly as bothered if it was anyone but her, but she is just… so very transparent about her desire for power.” Gianna reached up and rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache budding. “Peasants are easier to control than nobility. We’ll also need to make especially sure he isn’t siring royal bastards.” Pausing, she sighed.

“Or you could befriend him and remind him that girls have all sorts of cooties. Do you think that would work?” She asked with a small smile tugging at her lips.

He returned her grin.

“He’s at the age where being covered in cooties sounds like the best fun he could possibly have.” He said, looking her up and down. “I’m inclined to agree.”

Giana gave him a knowing smile and picked up her wine again. “Dear me, are you saying he will never grow out of it?”

“Never.” He said. He studied her form, too thin, but still beautiful to him. “So, what do you want me to do?”

“Do you want the completely honest and improper answer, or the answer I’m going to give you?” Giana asked, quirking a brow.

“Give me the dirty one, Giana.” He says low and warm, smiling handsomely and boldly.

For just a moment, she looked at him while taking another sip of her wine, thinking. Finally, she spoke, quietly and clearly. “I just want you to take care of this. It is extremely awkward for me to have to pay attention to this particular concern. He’s my little brother and I am a sister, not an older brother. I know it will likely take him a long time to understand why it is a concern anyways - maybe not until he has his own fifteen year old son - but I think it might be especially embarrassing coming from his sister.”

He nodded. He certainly didn’t think he was about to be given a mission to get the Crown Prince laid, but he was an excellent choice for the role and he knew it.

“I’ll take care of it.” He said clearly, then leaned forward, all confidence. “But who’s going to take care of you?”

“I suppose that depends on the type of care.” Giana returned, not waning from his confidence. “Take care of it however you think is best, Khalon. I know you have options.”

“I think you need a nice hot bath, a foot massage, and a bed.” He said, finishing his drink and standing up. He looked down at her all refined swagger. “Let’s go.”

Giana laughed softly, looking up at him as he stood across from her. He really was very handsome, and his confidence was hard to ignore. “I’ll do all that when I have time, Khalon, but I have more meetings and matters that need tending to.”

“You need to take care of yourself. All of the work you’re piling on yourself can be delegated. You’re turning into a workaholic. A sexy one, mind you.” He said, drawing near her, his hand sliding down into hers. “Let me take you home.”

“You’re very sweet.” She spoke quietly still, allowing her fingers to brush against his dark skin, “but I need to be here. Besides, I did just delegate something.” She gave him a smile and moved to stand, her thin body drawing up close to him.

Giana had been playing hard to get it seemed, but he knew how overwhelming her work was, let alone the personal issues that went along with this time in her life. Still, he wondered if he had become a useful and dedicated tool for her.

“I know one certain way.” He said, looking at her. “I could keep Contessa busy enough that she doesn’t have time for your brother.”

The softness faded from Giana’s face, her eyes finding his. “Oh? How do you propose to do that?”

“However you want me to.” He said smoothly, searching her eyes. “But I am a single man and still the most eligible bachelor in the Empire. She probably dreams of ruling other places..like Mars. And let’s just say I have the skills to keep her busy. What do you think about that?”

Giana immediately looked irritated by the suggestion and pulled her hand from his while withdrawing from the space they were sharing. Her eyes lingered, and then suddenly the fight went out and she just looked exhausted. It wasn’t like she had a claim to him, but he knew how she felt about Contessa.

“Do what you like, Lord Price.” She said and began to walk back to her desk. “I trust you’ll take care of it.”

She couldn’t have been less helpful, but it was no more than he expected. He grinned, stepping after her a bit.

“I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeves.” He said with a casual ease, not bothered but not pushing her where he knew she wouldn’t go yet. “The First Senator wants to push the Colonial Funding Bill and the Conquest Education Bill this week, and everyone on the Council of Lords has weighed in. I just need your go-ahead before it gets a first reading.”

“I haven’t gotten to read those over yet myself, but I will put them nearer to the top of my work.” Giana replied and took a seat back behind her desk. “Was there anything else, Lord Price?”

“You know I don’t want to sleep with Contessa, right?” He asked, looking at her from his standing position. “She’s a pretty blow up doll, but I’ve got my eye on someone else. I’m just trying to figure out if I’m barking up the wrong tree.”

“Then why allude to doing it, hm?” Giana scowled at him, but again it was short lived like a fire sputtering in and out as it struggled to stay lit.

“I wanted to see if you cared.” He said simply and calmly as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “If you do, it means you either see something between us or you feel like I’m yours in some way. If not..well I’m not getting any younger waiting for a clear sign. Besides, it’s not my style.”

Giana put her elbows on the desk and lifted her hands to her face, covering it and rubbing slowly in a way that wouldn’t completely displace her makeup. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, simply pressing through her own feelings. “Of course I care, Khalon, especially with her. You’re not stupid.”

“I know, I’m quite smart.” He said with a grin. “Not to mention incredibly handsome. Glad to know you care though. I’ll keep my own present wrapped up since you’re so head over heels for me.”

He teased her confidently, angling for the door.

“Will you do me a favor and tell my assistant to push everything back fifteen minutes on the rest of my schedule?” She stood from her chair and moved to the window, her arms wrapped around herself and her hands cradling her elbows.

Khalon wondered how Sacha had unwrapped this particular puzzle. Then again, she wasn’t wound so tight when he was still around. He wondered to himself if he was wasting his time. She was dating her father’s Empire. She didn’t make any time for anything else, especially not him. He considered his mother’s advice to marry quickly since his sister was missing and secure his line. Perhaps she was right.

“I’ll do that.” He said with a quiet nod, and then turned to leave.

“Thank you.” Thanks was a rarity from a royal, especially from Giana. It was beneath them after all. Even though it was two simple words, Khalon could hear the way her quiet voice trembled and the unmistakable sniffle of someone crying.

He watched her for a few seconds, and decided to risk losing his cool image. He stepped around the desk to her and put an arm around her. She needed a hug, and it looked like it was down to him or her little brother. His incredible cologne wafted as he drew her into a hug, saying nothing. Perhaps she would accept the gesture, but maybe she would snap and send him away.

As his arms wrapped around her too thin body, Giana immediately tensed, a natural reaction of someone who wasn’t used to being touched - much less hugged - by anyone without her express permission. After a few beats as if she were trying to mentally process what was happening, he found her leaning into him and her thin arms sliding around his waist. Her head moved to his chest, and she simply continued to cry.

Khalon held her tighter, taking her response as an invitation. His hands, strong and sure, centered on her back, his fingers moving soothingly. They’d been close, but never this close, and he savored the sweet smell of her perfume and hair care products despite the fact that she was so upset. He said nothing, letting her process her own thoughts.

It took a few minutes, but Giana did eventually calm and quiet down. She lingered in his arms with her head on his chest, breathing him in and taking comfort in the embrace with surprisingly little guilt in doing so. Finally she spoke, her voice vulnerable. “Please don’t do that to me.”

He at least knew she cared. The reason couldnt be certain. He rubbed her back, his head moving close to her head.

“I won’t.” He said quietly. His heart raced having her so close. “I didn’t think it would upset you.”

“Of course it would upset me. I don’t know how you could think it wouldn’t.” She pulled back slightly. “I’m so… tired, Khalon. I spend every day in meetings or paperwork trying to figure out who is wielding the smallest knives so when they use them on me, they will cause the least amount of damage. I never thought you’d be holding one too.”

“I’m not. I’ve proven that to you.” He said, pulling back and leaning on her desk so they were close to eye level, his hands were on her arms still. “I would never do that to you. I’ve been protecting you and working alongside you for months. You’re wearing yourself to the bone with this hyper-vigilance. You can’t do it all yourself.”

“I have to try.” She moved one hand to gently wipe her tears away.

“No you don’t. Your father never did this. No one does this.” He said. “You’re running a third of the government and the Council of Lords has been reading documents before they even get to you.”

He looks into her eyes, his hand boldly coming up to wipe tears away from her face.

“Help me understand why you have to work yourself into an early grave for a few budget and education bills.”

He could see the tears welling in her eyes again, but for the moment they didn’t fall. She lifted her hands and grabbed his arms just above his wrists not to stop him but simply to touch him it seemed. “Because last time I took my eyes off something thousands of Terrans died, including my fiance.”

“You cannot blame yourself for that. You weren’t even in charge of the military.” He said to her boldly, his tone insistent. “You’ll destroy yourself if you hold that over your own head. Besides, it’s literally impossible for you to pick up everything. I bet all the reports that you got on that military exercise before it happened or filtered through seven different offices, including that of the chancellor, before they got into your box. Are you really going to sit here all day and night trying to read between the lines of every single thing that hits your desk?”

“But I was, and I let Ramsay and my mother take that from me after I killed Giuseppe in the name of stability… then Ramsay failed and you know what, I don’t even think it phased him at all.” She let her hands lower and looked back toward the stack on her desk. “So what choice is there?”

“Obviously, I haven’t seen all the Intel you have, but it doesn’t sound to me like anyone failed. I had a solid Starfleet career before my dad’s death brought me back to Court. These things happen, and sometimes there’s no way to know until it hits you. You have to be a leader. That means you have to forgive people, including yourself.”

He wrapped his arms around her again, this time pulling her close to him. He wanted to make her feel better.

“You’ll catch a lot more detail after a good night’s sleep.”

Giana knew it was a failure, but there was no point in arguing the matter. Even if there was, she was too tired. “Yeah… I’ll get there. I just need to finish the rest of the day.”

“No, you need to go to bed.” He said, his voice firm to the point of insubordination. “I already know I was your last meeting. I checked with your Secretary. What else do you have to do that can’t wait until tomorrow?”

Giana turned her body slightly to gesture to the pile of tablets and paper documents waiting in the box, then wordless looked back to his face.

“No. Those can wait, I guarantee it will keep until tomorrow.” His arms grabbed her by the waist and pulled her in, taking possession of her like she was his.

She was about to speak, but the protest died on her lips when she felt him pull her in. Their bodies connected with a slight bump and her hand found his chest automatically to steady herself. She was thin, but she was still warm and had a softness to her. “I…”

His lips found her in a moment, warm, full, and skilled. It was exploratory, knowing she could punish him for far less. But his hands moved intentionally, every subtle movement of his body screaming sensitive and capable. His hands paused on her arms, ready to move further if she was open and willing.

The gesture wasn’t returned immediately, and when she started to it was hesitant at first, but as his lips continued to linger the hesitation melted away. Her hand slid up from his chest and around his neck to the back of his head where her fingertips gently curled and massaged the base of his scalp. Her own lips were skilled, soft; her other hand found his hip and rested there.

Khalon pulled her closer, his strong hands finding her hips and his tongue finding hers as months of tension broke for him like a damn. Though he reserved himself a bit, his body communicated how interested he was, a passionate manifestation of all the looks he’d given her. Despite himself, his suit pants began to tent and a sizeable sign of his interest could be felt against her.

Any resistance or reservation Giana may have had seemed to have disappeared in the moment. Her skilled lips and tongue moved against his and her thin hands roamed his body albeit a bit more hesitantly than her mouth did its work. It was only when she began to feel the familiar press against her lower abdomen that her lips began to slow. She wasn’t shocked nor was she disgusted, but it was clear she intended to reel in instead of taking the next obvious steps. Finally, she broke their kiss, but her lips didn’t stray far from his; instead she lingered close, her chest rising and falling quickly as she caught her breath. She could feel her heart racing in her chest and the warmth of her own body, but there was no cold grip of guilt to accompany it.

“Don’t work too long.” He said, looking into her eyes, his full lips lingering close to hers. Then he pulled back and rounded the desk slowly, his erection undeniable as a bright flashing sign of his arousal. He paused at the doorway, closing his suit jacket and hiding some of it, then smiled and shrugged. “Goodnight, Giana.”

It took a bit of effort, but Giana kept her eyes on his face successfully until he was at the door, then they were briefly brought down by the shifting of his jacket. Her lips twitched upward in a smile, and she found his face again. “Goodnight, Khalon.”

He offered a wink, confident and calm, and then exited the room, leaving her standing alone again. He would carry out her orders, one way or another, and would find a way to turn Paolo away from Contessa and onto someone he could control.

TAG

]]> Wed, 07 May 2025 05:24:40 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/867 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/867
Mission - Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location - The Pyramid

The halls were wide on most of the Pyramid’s floors and the surface beneath Paolo was dark marble. The feel was sleek and modern, but wood-faced walls and decorations brought on the feel of a rustic imitation. He wore a crisp blue suit with a white shirt and pinkish-purple tie and was accompanied by the Imperial Treasurer.

Contessa Pennington used to stand four inches taller than him, but after his recent growth spurt, they were now head to head. The always stylish woman wore a leather skirt, a white blouse which was not quite buttoned high enough, and a double-breasted suit coat.

“Are you going to tell me what the information is for?” She asked, eyeing the Crown Prince.

“No, I’m afraid I won’t be.” He said, grinning in her direction. The growth spurt had come with an interest in Contessa which was much more manly than it had been before. Still, he kept his eyes and his mind straight.

“You’re such a tease, sir. Making a girl go crawling through the dark budget just to find a few measly line items. Then you won’t even tell me what you’re after.” She said, pouting.

He looked at her lips for an instant and shook his head, his grin growing.

“A man has to keep some things strictly to himself.” He said with a glimpse of confidence. “I can’t just spill my secret to every pretty face I see, can I?”

“No, just this one.” She responded, her arm brushing his as they walked, seemingly by accident. “I’m only joking. You know I understand the importance of discretion. I know when to keep my mouth shut.”

The two of them rounded a corner and proceeded down it together. At the other end, Paolo spotted a familiar face. His sister, Giana, was standing with a pair of senators. Paolo and Contessa approached without missing a beat.

“Sister. Senators Collins and Adeyemi. Good afternoon.” He said, showing perfect white teeth in a smile.

“Paolo.” Giana greeted with a nod while the senators turned to bow diligently. Her blue eyes found Contessa and she nodded. “Contessa.”

It had not been long ago that Contessa seemed to enjoy needling Giana at any given opportunity, but since she had become regent, that activity had come to an astonishingly quick halt. The woman was obviously less confident in her safe standing without the Emperor to hide behind, and Giana was enjoying the reprieve. Contessa’s state of dress did not surprise her in the slightest - the woman flung her tits around as much as she did with money, but it was effective, even Giana couldn’t deny that. One of the perks of being a peasant, she supposed.

“Your Highness.” Contessa said, smiling at Giana and offering a courtesy. She had been wealthy her entire life, and brushing arms with the powerful was a constant. As the government’s Chief Financial Officer, she was no stranger to working with royals. For now, she needed to be a bit more respectful.

“Senators, I assume you’ve heard the news about the death of the Romulan Ambassador? Reports suggest the bomb placed in his villa was designed and constructed on Cardassia.” Paolo looked at the senators with an open expression. “I’m curious to hear your thoughts.”

“It was surprising to say the least.” Collins replied, crossing his arms over his chest. To think the Cardassians would have the audacity to do such a thing… though I’m more concerned with what it tells us about how far they can reach.”

“The fact that they conducted this attack here on Terra is a shock.” Contessa added, eyeing Paolo and then the senators.

“What about you?” Paolo asked, addressing Adeyemi.

“With the rumors I’ve been hearing, I wouldn’t be shocked if his own people did it to him, honestly.” Adeyemi shrugged.

“What rumors are those?” Paolo asked, raising his brows in interest. He hadn’t heard any rumors and wondered what was going around. “The Ambassador was popular on Romulus, I thought.”

Before he could answer, there was a pleasant chime that echoed through the hall calling the senators back to their seats. Adeyemi frowned and bowed his head toward Paolo. “If you’ll excuse us, Highness.”

Paolo’s jaw tightened. He wondered if the Crown Prince should come before a senate chime.

“I’m sure your colleagues would understand your delay.” He said, turning to Adeyemi again. “Tell me.”

Adeyemi glanced over at Giana who didn’t seem inclined to hurry him along either, so he looked back to Paolo and nodded. “I’ve been hearing rumors the ambassador was under investigation by imperial intelligence for some sort of involvement in the recent loss of our troops.”

“That’s some rumor.” Paolo said, not having heard the theory before. He searched Contessa’s face, but when he saw no recognition there, he turned to study Giana’s. “Where did you hear that, Senator?”

Giana stood quietly and simply watched the exchange. Unlike in the past, her face betrayed nothing of her inner thoughts. It was a feat she had found much easier to accomplish after Sacha’s demise and her total disconnect from the world. She glanced at Paolo when he saw his questing eyes, but returned to the man as he spoke.

“One of my aides heard it somewhere. It seemed rather ludicrous so I didn’t pursue the matter further.” Adeyemi admitted. “At least… it seemed so at the time.”

“But no longer?” Paolo asked the elder statesman. “What’s changed?”

“Well, the man is dead, and it does seem quite suspicious.” The chime rang again, and his expression tightened.

“Hm.” Paolo said with little more than a nod before stepping back and gesturing to the chambers. The Senate was meeting in the Pyramid while the Senate Building was undergoing a full renovation. “That will be all, gentlemen. You may attend your meeting.”

The two senators made hasty bows to both Paolo and Giana before leaving without another word, leaving the two royals and Contessa behind quickly. Giana watched them go, and then turned to walk away herself.

“Giana, wait.” Paolo said, taking another step toward her.

When Paolo called her, Giana stopped and turned halfway back to face him. “Yes?”

“Is it true?” He asked, wanting to know what was going on.

“I’m not sure, but I’m planning to find out.” Giana replied, then tilted her head just slightly. “What are the two of you up to anyways?”

“His Imperial Highness is brushing up on monetary policy. I am his economics teacher, after all.” Contessa said, her eyes moving to Paolo slowly and confidently. “The Imperial Central Bank has requested that interest rates be lowered to speed up the economy. That will mean more money in people’s pockets.”

“More they might spend on clothing and perfume, which is good for you.” Paolo added with a smirk. “I’m trying to convince Contessa she should approve the change, but she’s playing the shy one.”

“There is such a thing as an economy that’s too fast, Highness.” She said, smiling and looking at him with near flirtatious challenge to his teasing statement. Her blue eyes drifted back to Giana then, and the smile faded slightly. “The Crown Prince is insightful and has a curious mind, even for the finer points of economic management. He’s truly an excellent student and I feel honored to teach him.”

Where he might have blushed or seemed uncomfortable months before, Paolo stood slightly taller after the compliment and smiled at Giana.

Giana smiled, though the expression didn’t reach her eyes. It wasn’t an unusual expression for her now to those that knew her, but these two likely did not. “Yes, it is a great honor to teach the future emperor.”

Her eyes moved over Contessa then, taking her in once more, then they moved over to Paolo. The smile faded naturally as she took the pair in, and eventually she looked at her little brother. “Was there anything else you needed, brother?”

“I suppose not, just..” he paused, a rare hesitation for him lately. They had both changed so much in such a short time. In a way, he felt more connected with her than anyone else he could think of. “Good to see you. You should visit the palace some time.”

“Perhaps when I have time.” Giana nodded. The truth was she never did, she would have to make time to visit, but the truth was she simply had no desire to do so. “Mother is quite happy you’ve returned to the palace more regularly. I’m sure your intended is as well, Amalie missed you.”

As she spoke of Amalie, her eyes shifted to Contessa and rested there coolly.

Contessa smiled, almost as if she didn’t get the implication. She did, of course. Paolo didn’t see it, however. The ways of women were still a mystery to him.

“They are.” He said. Well, Mother used to be. At this point, I'm not certain.”

Giana could see that Contessa got the message - neither of them were stupid. On hearing Paolo’s words though, her brows lifted slightly. She wasn’t about to go digging through the inner workings of their family - especially not in front of someone like Contessa - but she did pick up on Paolo’s tone and the look on his face.

“You should visit me for lunch in Rio sometime, brother. Perhaps once I have figured out what is going on with this Romulan matter.”

“Let’s do that then.” He answered, allowing only the slightest impression of a smile. He was growing up fast. “Until next time.”

Giana nodded simply and then turned to walk away, even going Contessa the favor of not lingering and waiting for the woman to bow in farewell as was custom. A moment later, she rounded a corner and was gone from sight.

The pair watched Giana go with interest, but when she was gone, Contessa turned to Paolo again.

“Now, Highness…why don’t you tell me about quantitative easing. Let’s see how much you really understand.”

END
]]> Wed, 07 May 2025 05:23:09 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/865 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/865
Mission - Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location - Terra

It was quite a bad thing for a civil servant to suggest that an attack on the Emperor’s life was good for her, but in Camila Zajak’s case it was terribly true, for her career at least. It felt dirty, she found, for she hadn’t even had to try, but the Chancellorship fell into her lap. Of course, it was only temporary and the official documents left room for the Emperor to wake up and for everything to go back to the way it was. But she had her doubts.

It had been months since the attack on the planet, deep in the neutral zone, known as Pavla. There, the Romulans and Terran Marines were set to meet for group training. The Romulans never arrived, but the Klingons did. They’d rained death from the stars on Terran heroes, and butchered them to the man, and still the Romulans were nowhere in sight. After she’d gotten the regents to sign the decree which gave her the authority to get to the bottom of this situation, she dug in and spent an inordinate amount of time on the project. The Romulans had been on ice with no word at all from officials on Terra. All had been calm, as if nothing had ever happened.

“The ambassador from the Romulan Republic is here, Madam Chancellor.” Came the voice of her secretary.

She looked up from the documents before her, the sun shining on her through the sheer white curtains of the huge office of the Imperial Chancellor.

“Thank you Tereza. Give it a few moments and then send him in.” CJ said.

When she was alone again, she stood and walked around the three-sided wooden desk which looked every-bit to belong to a head of government. It sat before a gray-marbled wall lined with bookshelves. She walked to the side of the office where assorted comfortable chairs and couches were scattered decoratively as a personal audience chamber. She wore a gray skirt and an off-white blouse, so she seemed to match the color palate quite well. Silently, she lowered herself into her favorite chair and folded one knee over the other.

Her Inter-departmental team had agreed that any conspiracy of information transfer from the Romulans to the Alliance would likely be through military contacts and that meeting with Soren tr’Vathras would be a frustrating waste of her time, since he likely knew nothing. But she had a different feeling on the matter entirely.

The doors parted and two Pyramid Security Officers permitted the entry of a tall Romulan man, somewhat aged, distinguished, and graying at the temples. He walked in with purpose, a pleasant grin on his handsome face. He wore traditional Romulan Ambassador’s robes, but she noticed the pants had been hemmed in the Terran style, as had the jacket.

“Mr. Ambassador. Welcome to the Pyramid.” She said, standing and stepping over to meet him in the middle. He extended his hand as did she and they shook. She noticed his grip was light, as if he didn’t wish to hurt her. “I’m Camilla Zajak.”

“Oh, I know who you are, Madam Chancellor. And, believe me, this is hardly the first time I’ve been in this room, let alone in this building.” Soren said with a smile, his tone confident and amiable.

“Right, of course not.” CJ said, her smile tight and somewhat unnatural. She ended the handshake and gestured for the chairs. “Let’s have a seat so we can chat. I trust your journey over was pleasant?”

“Pleasant enough, pleasant enough. Rome is a beautiful city, offering cultural delights Romulus rarely boasts.” He said, following her to a seating area and taking position in a chair next to hers with a small, stylish coffee table between them. “Gelato, for example. There is nothing like it anywhere else in the galaxy, I’d bet.”

“I’m not sure I’d take that bet, Mr. Ambassador. The galaxy is a massive place, and there are many frozen confections in it.” CJ said.

“Now that’s rare. Where is that Terran superiority I’ve come to admire over the years?” He said with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I believe in all that. But Terrans don’t believe we have the best food and culture on our own. In fact, we love to adopt the strongest and most favorable quirks from other cultures when we take a liking to them.” She responded. “But of course you already know that. After all, you have been on assignment here in one capacity or another since 2365, isn’t that right?”

“Very nearly seven years, and I’ve loved every moment of it.” He said with a nod. “Where were you that year?”

“I was still in the Pyramid, just as a second string player. The Minister for Media.” She answered, her smile settling into a generally pleasant and professional expression.

“Ah, yes. I remember that.” He said, wagging his finger at her. “You were one of the most effective media wranglers I’ve ever seen. That was your genius. I’m a bit surprised to see you leaving it behind for a..much larger office.”

“I serve at the pleasure of the Emperor and His regents, Mr. Ambassador. They are the ones who thought me the right woman for the moment in this office.” She answered quite honestly.

“Why do you think that is, ma’am?” He asked, leaning in with interest. “What gives them such confidence in you over, let’s say, the Vice Chancellor or Secretary Ansley?”

CJ seemed to reflect on the question a moment, a cool and typically unemotional turn of her head accompanying it. “I like to think it’s because they have confidence in my ability to communicate what is most important to the Secretariat, to the government, and to the allies and enemies of the Empire.”

“Clear communication and quick thinking are important.” Soren agreed with a nod. “I can imagine the task of keeping your Emperor’s condition more or less concealed from the public has been quite a task.”

“Not at all. The Emperor’s reign is as secure as ever, and the Court is United behind his agenda.” CJ responded without missing a beat. There was no defensiveness in her tone or body language. “His most immediate agenda, actually, is the investigation into the tragedy at Palvo. I would assume you’ve heard of what happened there?”

“Of course. A true tragedy for your people. My condolences for so many souls lost.” He nodded, his face somber as he spoke.

“Thank you, Mr. Ambassador. That means a great deal coming from you.” She said with a smile that didn’t even approach her eyes. “In light of that sentiment, I was hoping you could give me your perspective on what happened there. My people are suggesting there was a leak from your side to the Klingons. The Senate is baying for blood.”

“Why ever would they think such a thing?” The man frowned immediately, clearly offended by the insinuation.

“Because the Klingons knew exactly where and when to find our troops. You can bet that information didnt come from our side.” CJ answered. “Your opposition party, the Party of your Second Consul, has been against your government’s alliance with mine from the start. Politically, it simply makes sense someone from your government is working with the Alliance..”

“I don’t believe you should bet on that at all, Chancellor.” Soren steepled his fingertips together. “Your Emperor’s firstborn son turned against him did he not? Though he may be dead now, that does not mean his supporters have disappeared. Did it strike you that perhaps it is from those supporters the information may have been given to our mutual enemy in an effort to break our alliance?”

“The rebels have no interest in destroying the Alliance with the Romulans, Ambassador.” CJ said, her tone dismissive and disinterested. Her fingers hovered over a control pad on the armrest of her seat, but she pressed nothing. “What is your relationship with Captain K’Pok, Son of Torg, Ambassador?”

“I have never heard that name.” The man replied, the slightest tone of irritation in his voice. “Are you attempting to insinuate something, Chancellor?”

“I’m attempting to ask simple questions. I’m a journalist, after all.” CJ said, leaning back more comfortably. “Captain K’Pok is the military attaché assigned to the nearest Alliance outpost. At this point, it’s almost in Imperial space. You’re sure you’ve never heard of him?”

“Perhaps vaguely if it is as you say it is. I’m sure his name has come across my desk in passing. Why do you ask?” He prompted with mild impatience.

Her finger finally fell on the keypad and a screen on the wall depicted a recording of a Romulan shuttle approaching a Klingon ship.

“This is your shuttle. That is Captain K’Pok’s ship. The recording was taken just three days before the ambush on Palvo.”

“I was here on Terra during that time.” He looked at the imagine in front of him and then back to CJ, shaking his head. “This is absurd.”

“Your calendar says you were here..your aides say you were here..and yet this is your shuttle and his ship.” CJ said, looking at him with cold blue eyes. “Does that not strike you as suspicious?”

“Of course it does, though I doubt we are sharing the same suspicions.” He replied and eyed her darkly, now openly frowning. “I was here on Terra in meetings for most of that day, and when I was not, I was at my estate.”

“Of course you were.” CJ said, and her fingers pressed yet another button. In just a second, the doors opened and two armed Pyramid Guards charged in. She looked at the ambassador resolutely. “Let’s see if some questioning by Imperial Intelligence yields the same results.”

Immediately, Soren was out of his seat and shifted his stance to something defensive as the guards approached. “You cannot do this! This is an act of war!”

“The act of war, Mr. Ambassador, was you trading classified Terran military information with the enemy, resulting in the deaths of thousands of our bravest and brightest. One of those soldiers was worth one thousand of you.” CJ stood with him as the guards took hold of his arms. “Intel will get the full story from you, as well as the names of all of your accomplices. How much of you I send back to Romulus depends entirely on how well you decide to cooperate.”

“Unhand me! I did nothing! You have no proof of anything except these obvious fabrications!” The Romulan protested loudly, fighting against the hold. Like Vulcans, Romulans did possess the superior strength of Vulcans, so he was able to wrest his arm from one of the guards and shove him back.

CJ watched with a smirk as the man wrestled with the guards, knowing they could easily end the exchange with a discharge of their phasers.

“Mr. Ambassador, please. Listen.” She said, raising a hand. “Please forgive me. It was a cruel joke.”

She gestured to the guards.

“You may go. The Ambassador won’t be any trouble.”

The guards released the Romulan, and after giving him very dirty looks, proceeded again to the exit.

“You should have seen your face.” CJ said with a giggle that only managed to be unsettling.

Soren glared down at CJ, his dark eyes glinting in a dangerous way. “How dare you. This is no joking matter and I will be reporting this incident.”

“Oh, Mr. Ambassador, really. Why would I arrest you here? Everyone knows exactly where you are. It would cause a collapse of the very alliance I'm seeking to preserve.” CJ responded. “And you’re probably right. Imperial Intelligence is known to get these little details wrong. Clearly you were here on Terra the whole time.”

CJ gestured for the door, her slender finger darting like an arrow.

“Of course, you’re free to go. And may the gods watch over you.”

With a growl, Soren just stared at CJ as if he were truly considering doing something to her, but in the end he simply straightened the Romulan jacket he was wearing and smoothed out his sleeves. “I do not appreciate ‘jokes’, Chancellor. Never do this again.”

“Oh, I doubt I’ll have the chance anyway, don’t you?” She asked, clasping her hands in front of her.

“I don’t know why you think you had the chance in the first place. This was ridiculous and inappropriate.” He scoffed. “I thought you better than that.”

CJ said nothing and showed no signs of shame, hesitation, or regret. There was silence for an awkward amount of time before she broke it.

“Please give the First Consul my warmest regards. Let her know that His Imperial Majesty’s government is very close to confirming the source of the leak. Very close.”

“Not as close as you might believe, it seems.” The man scoffed and without another word, he left CJ’s office, his feet falling heavily and communicating his rage at the entire situation that had just unfolded.

As her office returned to silence, CJ sighed. She knew the likelihood she would ever see the Ambassador again was quite low. She had placed the man into Nolan Nazar’s hands to be retrieved at the right time and in the right way. But, if anything was certain, it was that the Ambassador had been lying for his life.

OFF
]]> Wed, 07 May 2025 05:17:52 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/862 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/862
Mission - Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location - Terra

Paolo ducked underneath a roundhouse kick, his head barely making it under the swinging leg of his opponent. He was doused with sweat to the point where his blue sleeveless shirt was dotted with dark stains. Though far from presentable, his fitness was obvious. Standing, he resumed his ready position, preparing to dodge the next blow.

“Very close next time, Imperial Highness.” Said the dark haired and mysterious man who was training him. “You must move faster.”

“Yes.” Paolo seemed to agree just as his opponent through a punch at his head which he avoided by darting his head to the side.

“Take down!” The man shouted, and Paolo’s hands were on the attacking arm for an instant, raising it into the air violently and stepping forward with impressive speed. With a sweep of his leg, his opponent lay on the ground. The mysterious man gave a stern grin. “Very good, Highness. Very good.”

“I’m getting the hang of it, I believe.” Paolo said, breathing heavily and wiping sweat from his eyes.

“You are, sir. Now, run home for a shower.” The man said, and then started to gather the opponent from the ground.

Paolo grabbed a towel from a nearby rack and started drying himself quickly. He pulled his water bottle into the air and squirted clear liquid into his mouth. It was only a few moments before he was in the hallway, making his way back to his apartments.

As he was walking down the hallway, one of the women he would recognize as part of Amalie’s staff was approaching him from the opposite direction. On seeing Paolo, her eyes widened slightly - she had been expecting to give her message to one of his valets, but this would be even better.

“Highness.” She greeted and curtsied prettily to him. “If you have a moment, I have a message from Lady Amalie.”

Paolo noticed the young woman immediately. He looked into her pretty eyes and offered a smile more manly than he would have been able to manage just months ago.

“Of course. Go on.” He said, pausing in his path and watching her expectantly.

“She was hoping you might meet with her somewhere. Something… rather unfortunate has transpired, and she simply wants to see you.” The girl replied, keeping her eyes averted from him.

“Of course.” Paolo said, his brow furrowing in concern. What could be so bad that she needed to see him right away? “Does she have some place in mind?”

“She enjoys the gardens, sir, but she was willing to meet anywhere that suited you if need be.” The young woman replied easily.

“The gardens are lovely. I’ll meet her by the statue of Apollo in a half hour.” He said with a nod that held confidence. “Thank you for delivering the message.”

“Of course.” When he dismissed her, she backed away a few steps before finally turning around to head back to Amalie’s quarters located in a completely different wing of the massive estate.

—

The gardens this time of year were not as bright and vibrantly colored as they were in the spring, but they were still beautiful and immaculately kept. The air had a distinct chill to it, but the sunshine above kept it from really settling into the body in an unpleasant way. Under the statue of Apollo sitting on a bench, Amalie sat with the servant woman who had come to relay the message to Paolo. She was wearing a modest dark purple knit dress with long sleeves that came down to her knee, the turtleneck helped to keep her warm. She was clearly upset, holding the other woman’s hand tightly, her pretty face blotchy from having been crying.

After a quick shower, Paolo headed down to the gardens by himsef. More and more he was seen with young men or boys his own age around the palace during this visit, but he made a point of coming alone on this occasion. He wore a royal blue mandarin collar shirt under a gray blazer and slacks. His belt and shoes were expensive brown leather and he smelled strongly of a spicy cologne. It was a new touch for him, but his valets helped him put it on in perfect proportions, helping him avoid a key mistake of many boys his age. When he saw Amalie, his heart sunk to see that she’d been crying. He sat down next to her immediately, turning toward her.

“Lady Amalie..what’s wrong?”

The servant gave Amalie’s hand another squeeze and then moved to stand. “I’ll be just over there.”

With that she moved off to give the two room to talk as privately as possible while still keeping an eye on what was happening.

Amalie took a deep breath and turned to Paolo, immediately finding his hand and taking it without thinking. She licked her lips and looked into his eyes, dismayed. “Oh something terrible, Paolo. My governess…”

His stomach sunk further, if such a thing were possible, and his mouth hung open in a sort of dumb surprise for a moment.

“Oh…uhh.. what happened to her?” He asked, not knowing the answer to his question. All he knew is that something was going to happen, having kept the details beneath him.

“She was brutally attacked outside of her apartment when she left here last night.” Amalie sniffled, reaching up to touch her face with her free hand to touch her face and try to prevent tears. “She’s in the hospital now.”

“Oh, Gods.” He responded, staring at her and realizing what his few words had done. He found himself suddenly thirsty. “Who did this to her? Do the police know?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t been told much.” Amalie frowned and looked at Paolo earnestly. “I… I was hoping you might be able to help. She might be harsh at times, but I think she truly wants what is best for me; I’m really upset someone did this to her.”

“Help?” He asked, his hand holding hers more tightly as his heart ached terribly for her. It had honestly never occurred to him that this move might hurt her. “What could I possibly do?”

“I thought maybe somehow you might be able to find out who did this.” Amalie admitted, seeming to realize then that it might be an inappropriate thing to ask. She frowned then, but looked into his eyes slowly. “She didn’t do anything wrong.”

Paolo looked into her big, radiant eyes and blinked rapidly. He felt terrible, but he was also fairly certain he did what he had to do to protect her. His other hand moved to his leg, and his leg directly next to hers.

“I didn’t realize you cared so much for her.”

“She’s very strict, but she is kind. She’s a good teacher outside of… well, the things we discussed. Is that really her fault though?” Amalie frowned, the question more rhetorical than anything. “This is the mandated education, she’s simply teaching what she is supposed to be teaching. I can’t fault her for that, it wouldn’t be right.”

But I can, Paolo thought. “Her teaching is harmful and the mandated education needs to be changed as soon as possible.”

Paolo frowned, looking at her with heavy breath. “Who would want to do this to her? Does she have enemies?”

“I don’t know. She doesn’t tell me those types of things; I’m her student.” Amalie shook her head slightly. “The system is harmful, she’s a good woman just doing her job. If she tried to do something different, she could be punished or dismissed.”

“There’s always a way to do what’s right.” Paolo said with conviction. “Like teaching little girls that some touches are bad touches and some tells are good tells. A bit of effort would have been nice.”

His grimace made it clear how angry he was, truly. All of these excuses made him sick. Of course, none of them know the true cost of the Governess’s work.

“Not if they don’t know what’s right to begin with.” Amalie pointed out quietly and finally looked away from him.

“And how can they if they won’t take a lesson?” He asked aloud without meaning to. He regretted saying it and bit his lower lip to stop himself from talking. After some time passed in silence, he spoke again. “Thank you for coming to me, Amalie. It means a lot to me.”

Amalie heard him, but she wasn’t sure what to respond and even if she had an idea, she wasn’t sure it would be a good idea. Instead she gave him a small, sad smile. “Do you think you can help?”

Paolo hesitated. He wasn’t willing to lie to Amalie; he knew that right away. But at the same time, he certainly couldn’t tell her the truth. He wasn’t sure what to say, but before he could even make an attempt, the sound of shoes approaching drew his attention away from Amalie. Approaching, the Empress came with a horrified expression on her face, her large breasts pulled close to her chest and raised high in her flowing Scarlett dress. She was flanked by two attractive aging women who looked at Paolo and Amalie as if they were preparing to be thoroughly entertained.

“PAOLO!” She shouted, putting a bit of stomp in her step.

Amalie was startled off of the bench immediately at the Empress’ approach and the way she shouted at her son. She curtsied, and then hastily moved out of the way with a confused look on her pretty young face.

“Mother.” Paolo said, his heart racing a mile a minute as he watched the woman approach. She stopped in front of him and, before he knew it, he was moving back in a jerking motion and narrowly avoiding the swift movement of her hand at his face. She had never struck him, so his mouth was open wide. “Mother, calm down!”

“What have you done, Paolo?!” Cosima shouted. The women behind her barely restrained their surprised and amused expressions. “I would expect this from anyone else but you. Vera? How could you do this to her?”

Amalie had retreated to the safety of her servant to watch what was happening from a slightly safer distance, but still easily able to hear what was happening too. When Cosima nearly struck Paolo, Amalie gasped, her hand going to her mouth. The shock didn’t wear off as Cosima mentioned Vera’s name. What was going on?

“I didn’t touch her, Mother.” Paolo said, looking around feverishly. The entire concept of being in trouble was new to him. “I’ve been here all day.”

“And yet I know you had something to do with it. She told me about your visit yesterday, Paolo. How you threatened to expose some scandal with her daughter. I suppose she wasn’t responsive to your strong-arming, so you decided to just have her killed, is that it? Is that the best I can expect from both of my sons?”

Amalie’s hand lowered from her mouth slowly, revealing a deeply concerned frown as she looked between Cosima and Paolo. Surely Cosima didn’t have it right? Paolo wouldn’t do that to a woman, would he? Her pretty brown eyes settled on him, her apprehension clear as she waited for what he was going to say in response to his mother’s accusations.

“I didn’t have her killed, Mother.” Paolo said, averting his gaze. “I wouldn’t do that. I simply..ask that she be convinced to stand aside.”

“Yes, you wanted her to resign from her job.” She said, looking at Amalie for a second. “Well we’ll have to see if she regains consciousness in order to know if your plan worked.”

Amalie looked at Cosima, frowning deeply and clearly afraid. She didn’t think Paolo had something like this in him, and as his future wife, it scared her quite deeply. She averted her gaze, looking down to the grass as she tried to keep from crying again.

“I..I did it to protect Amalie.” Paolo admitted, turning his sad gaze tk the girl he loved and seeing her sadness as well. “I did it to protect you. I didn’t know what they’d do, I swear.”

“You didn’t know because you didn’t want to know.” Cosima said, shaking her head. “Shame, Paolo. Shame on you.”

“What do you mean, ‘protect me’?” Amalie questioned, frustrated. “She’s been a kind, trusted teacher. I know maybe you don’t agree with what she is teaching me, but why would you do this to her? She’s only doing her job, what is expected of her,” Amalie gestured to Cosima. “What she was ordered to do by the Empress.”

“And shame on her for ordering it.” Paolo said, turning his eyes to his mother. “You know what her teachings did to our family. The simple fact you would give her charge over my future wife is an insult to me, to Amalie, and to Giana.”

“How dare you speak to me that way-“ Cosima started, but was interrupted by Paolo. His voice was raised, and his tone was sharp.

“He raped her over and over and she..said..NOTHING. Because she was told to say nothing.” Paolo shouted, scowling. “And I’m not going to pretend like that is okay. It’s not happening again; not to Amalie. Not to my family. I told Vera to resign and she refused. I tried to get her to do so to protect her daughter, and she refused. So I did what Father would do: what works.”

Cosima blinked at her son, beyond frustrated, but the shreds of guilt she kept hidden held her back from chastising him again. It was true that she had failed her daughter. She tried to ignore it and pretend it simply hadn’t happened, but she knew it was true.

“I..” she started, but stammered. “It still wasn’t…”

Tears had started flowing down Amalie’s face again as she listened to the exchange. Was what Paolo said true? Amalie liked Giana, though there were certainly aspects she didn’t like. Hearing everything now, she now understood more why Giana was how she was and her heart broke for her sister-to-be. She licked her lips and looked at Cosima directly.

“Is that true?”

Cosima looked at Amalie, her silent brown eyes growing deeply sad. Something between them had been crushed for her; a chance to do things right with another daughter, perhaps. Tears formed in her eyes and she breathed out slowly.

“Gods. Amalie.. it’s not that simple.”

“It IS that simple.” Paolo said, stepping over to Amalie and grasping her hand in his gently. His emotions were raw on his face. “And I won’t let it happen to my Amalie. She will trust me and know she can tell me ANYTHING she needs to at any time. And no one is going to teach her otherwise, do you hear me, Mother?”

Cosima blinked in total, mournful surprise. Paolo had never spoken to her this way, and she found she couldn’t fight it.

“We’ll figure it out, Paolo. But you can’t go down this path. You were supposed to be different.”

“Yes, well many things were supposed to be different.” He responded in an uncharacteristically bitter tone.

“Excuse me.” Amalie finally spoke before Cosima could respond to Paolo. It was a quiet interruption, but it was resolute. She looked at Cosima. “How is it not ‘that simple’?”

“Giuseppe was a spiteful and manipulative boy. He taught Giana that no one would help her. It wasn’t Vera, Amalie, it was him.” Cosima answered.

“They were accomplices.” Paolo corrected. “They may not have known it, but they were both teaching the same lesson.”

“That’s not true!” Cosima hissed, scowling at her son. “That's not true!”

“It is true!” Paolo protested. He wished he was back in China at this moment, and part of him wished he hadn’t visited at all. He had become inconvenient for everyone since the incident with Giuseppe, it seemed. “You’re allowing your guilt to stop you from reasoning. It’s classic denial. I’m not betting Amalie on it.”

Amalie reached out, sliding her arm around Paolo’s as he stood next to her and seemed to lean into him a bit. “If you knew he was doing that, why didn’t you stop it? Why didn’t you help your daughter? How did you not know?”

Cosima looked down. She could storm off and refused to answer the questions, but she knew from experience they wouldn’t just go away. She sniffed and licked her ruby lips. The woman behind her had almost dropped all semblance of decorum in their listening, as if they were watching a reality television show play out before them.

“I noticed she was becoming withdrawn and I would spend extra time with her. We would go shopping together or horseback riding and we would talk.” Cosima stated. “But when I asked, she told me everything was alright. She even told me I was the best mother any girl could ask for..”

“She said what you wanted to hear.” Paolo said. “It’s in the curriculum, Mother. Right there in black and white. The recipe for helpless, emotionally stunted victims who hate their parents and pretty much everyone else.”

“Do you like your daughters?” Amalie asked, her voice still quiet but encouraged by Paolo.

“What kind of question is that, Girl? Of course I do.” Cosima snapped at Amalie, her expression disapproving. “How could you even ask me something like that?”

“I didn’t ask if you love your daughters, of course you do. I asked if you like your daughters. Just as people, not as your girls.” Amalie clarified patiently.

Cosima looked at Amalie, her hesitation and distress as plain as the nose on her face. She didn’t answer for several seconds.

“Everyone has moments when they aren’t likable. It’s a part of being alive.” She said quietly. That doesn’t mean I dislike my daughters.”

“A moment is one thing, a lifetime is another. Do you like your daughters?” Amalie asked again, her voice louder this time but certainly not raised to the Empress.

Paolo looked at Amalie’s beauty. He admired her bravery in persistently asking the question. Unfortunately, Cosima seemed unwilling to say anymore.

“I don’t need to dignify that with a response.”she said, and then turned her nose up at Amalie and angled her body away as if to leave. She took a few steps away before Paolo called out to her.

“When she wakes, Mother, accept her resignation. I have a replacement in mind all three of us will like.”

“Do you? Who?” Amalie asked, looking at Paolo with surprise and interest.

He watched as Cosima and her entourage departed. Once she was gone, he turned to Amalie.

“Constance Delacroix. She was Jessica’s Personal Secretary before the wedding to Giuseppe. She transformed her from low nobility to an exceptionally popular royal. She understands people, and I’ve been talking to her.” He answered frankly. He frowned at her. “Amalie, I didn’t see any other way. My mother refused to see reason, as did Vera. I never meant to hurt you.”

Amalie hesitated a moment. “I don’t know her at all, but… do you think Jessica was taught it would be okay to share her feelings? I… don’t see that going over well with your brother. I’m not trying to question you, Paolo, I’m just… Giana is still the most popular royal by far with the people, you know that and I know that. Is it right to force Vera away when the curriculum could simply be adjusted?”

“The curriculum is just words on a page, Amalie. Anyone who could teach a little girl these things without rethinking their career is unacceptable In this role.” He answered, calmly but not without feeling. “Jessica had different lessons than you would, obviously. They wanted her to be popular and approachable. The point is she was taught much of what she needed to know to survive. The only reason she didn’t make it in their marriage is because Giuseppe went crazy after being displaced as heir. Trust me, things will be different with you. I was quite impressed with her insights about you just from seeing you in the press. She’ll be an excellent advocate.”

“Insights about me? Like what?” Amalie asked, frowning slightly.

“Well, for one she thinks you and I need to appear together in public much more often and that your schedule should be filled with social events in Court. Normally it would be but..my mother is a bit distracted.” He answered, being polite. “Constance wants to push for more opportunities for you to learn the role of consort.”

“Well… there hasn’t been much opportunity for us to be together.” Amalie pointed out quietly, not directly accusing him, but she had a point. “It is very understandable of course but… I’m hoping since you decided to return to court, that might change?”

Paolo looked slightly conflicted. He was enjoying life away from it all, but it seemed he had fallen into an agenda and a purpose beyond learning to fight with his friends in the wilderness. He also felt he had a responsibility to be with her, even if it was just to protect her from the rest of the Court.

“Of course we can.” He said, looking into her eyes. “We can do whatever you’d like.”

“Is something wrong?” Amalie asked, having seen his conflicted expression, but not understanding what could have been the underlying reason enough to not ask him.

He shook his head, looking down at her with affection and a hint of pain in his eyes.

“No, I’m just not at my best right now. I still haven’t figured out what kind of man I want to be besides the fact that I want to fight for what’s right.” He admitted, grasping her hands in his. He looked at her lips, his desire to kiss them stronger than ever. “I felt I was being reborn in China. I’m worried I haven’t learned everything I'm meant to learn.”

“I don’t think anyone ever really stops learning.” Amalie noted, squeezing his hands gently. “But only you can decide what kind of man you want to be… and if you decide poorly, you can change your mind and work to be what you want. It doesn’t have to be so set in stone, does it?”

“I suppose not, but I have been taught that a person’s habits are very powerful things. So many who want to change just continue on doing the same old things until they die. And there are some lessons best learned at specific times.” Paolo returned. He shook his head then and offered a smile. “I’ll be around more and make time for you. You’re very important to me.”

Amalie nodded. “Maybe there are better times than others, but it doesn’t necessarily mean you will miss out on learning the lesson entirely.” She squeezed his hands a little longer and smiled at him. “That makes me really happy. You’re important to me too.”

He looked at her lips again, his teenage hormones playing their tricks with him again. He glanced in the direction of her chaperone and found the young woman certainly looking at the two of them. The rules being as they were, he never would have attempted a kiss several months ago. But now, he leaned forward slowly, his intent clear but slow enough for her to stop him.

For a moment, she looked confused, then she figured out what was going on and a pink blush immediately appeared on her youthful cheeks. She didn’t pull away, but didn’t move forward either.

“Lady Amalie.” Her attendant called out, gentle but firm, and it was enough to make Amalie step back and look over toward the woman instead of at Paolo. She was giving the two teens an apologetic, understanding smile, but it was clear she was going to do the task assigned to her.

Paolo glanced to the woman, irritation playing at his features for only a brief instant before they softened. She was only doing her job, and he wasn’t going to fault her for that.

“Where would we be without you?” He asked, though he was starting to have some ideas of what the answers to that question might be. He turned to Amalie and kissed her hand instead. “I’m sorry, my Lady, but there’s a Secretariat meeting soon and I actually intend to be there for a recent change.”

“Of course, Highness.” Amalie nodded and gave him a small curtsy, though it was coupled by a youthful, sweet smile. “I hope it goes well. If I can help you with anything please just ask.”

“The gesture is mutual.” He said and then leaned down to kiss her hand. With a smile, he released her and stood up straight again, his suit creasing around his increasingly fit body. His brown eyes lingered on her for a second longer than they needed to. “Until next time.”

Amalie gave another smile and nod then finally turned to go to her attendant who smiled and gave a deeper curtsy to Paolo in farewell before extending a gentle arm out to Amalie to collect her. The two departed the garden then, leaving Paolo with his thoughts and the lingering warmth on his cheek from his mother’s strike.

END
]]> Wed, 07 May 2025 00:31:43 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/860 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/860
Mission - Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location - Terra

Following his meeting with Giana, Paolo returned to the Imperial Palace and made good on his promise to spend lots of time with Amalie. They’d spent the entire evening together and ever sat talking late into the night. Before too long, however, he escorted her back to her apartments and then retired to his for some sleep.

After Giuseppe’s displacement, he thought it would be strange to take the apartments of the Crown Prince even though they were larger and more lavish than his own. He had opted to remain in the apartments he’d inhabited since he was a child and returning to them was an interesting experience for him. With little time to waste, he went right to bed, preparing for an early morning.

The next day, he rose before the sun, refreshed himself with a shower, and went to Amalie’s apartments before she would be awake accompanied by two rather young members of the Imperial Guard. It was unusual to have an escort within the walls of the palace, but he had his reasons. He pressed the chime, expecting to receive a greeting from one of her staff rather than her.

As he expected, the door opened and he was met with the figure of a rather short woman in her early forties who immediately looked up at Paolo. She was clearly startled to see the Crown Prince standing there, and blinked once before she remembered to curtsy. “Ah, Highness, good morning.”

“Good morning.” Paolo said, his tone courteous but not conveying the smiling kindness that was typical of him before his experience on Axanar. “I’m here to speak with Lady Cochrane’s Governess.”

“Oh.” The woman blinked again. His request was clearly unexpected and unusual, she had never had to deal with something like it before. She licked her lips, deciding it was better to go along with the request, and stepped out of Paolo’s way. “I will go and get her. Would you like to come in?”

“I would.” Paolo said, and stepped in first before the two guards. He entered with comparatively high confidence, his eyes moving between the decorations and colors. Amalie had been given a budget with which to decorate her space within reason and he was curious to see what she had done. As the woman who had opened the door stepped into the staff hall, he stepped in too, followed closely by his men.

Amalie was clearly in that phase where a girl was growing out of her girlhood and finding her tastes as a woman. The space was undeniably feminine, the walls a soft shade of blush pink while most of the furniture and decorations were white with gold accents. There were a number of flower arrangements displayed nicely, and she had selected several landscape pictures of fields to decorate the walls. The woman guiding him immediately paused when Paolo moved into the staff hall with her and turned to look at him with some hesitance. “Ah… this is the staff area, Highness.”

“Yes, I was born in this palace..” Paolo's aid informatively, his brows knitting together as he looked at her. It was not an unkind move, but it communicated he was planning on continuing exactly as he was. All around him, people managed and scheduled him, and he had grown fairly sick of it.

“Oh… of course.” She licked her lips and continued down the halfway to one of the doors which she knocked on softly. “Vera, there’s…”

She hesitated and looked over at Paolo, an unspoken question of if he wanted to be announced for who he was or not.

Paolo shook his head. If he wanted the woman to have enough prep time to call his mother, he would have set up an appointment. He licked his lips, a mixture of curiosity and impatience showing on his young face.

“There’s someone here to see you.” The woman finished hastily, understanding Paolo’s indication.

“Yes, fine, but I only have a moment.” The woman, Vera, who responded, was clearly quite annoyed by the notion of interruption. Just a few seconds later, the door opened and there stood a woman roughly Cosima’s age. She was of average height and quite thin - the ideal of Terran beauty at the time of her prime, no doubt. Her hair was a rich reddish brown and her eyes could have almost been called amber. She was dressed in a modest dark blue dress and looked quite put together which was no surprise given her position.

Stepping out into the hall, Vera glanced down at the woman and then turned as if to exit the hall only to see Paolo there. Like the servant, Vera too was startled. “Oh… Highness… what… what are you doing here?” .

“I wish to speak to you about the Lady’s curriculum.” Paolo said, lifting the glass tablet in his hand and taking a step forward. “You may step back into your office and talk to me there.”

Vera pursed her lips. “A highly unusual request, but very well.” She stepped out of her office and indicated for Paolo to enter before her.

Paolo gladly took the initiative in walking first into the office. It wasn’t a large space by any means, so it wasn’t challenging for him tk pick a spot to sit down. As the woman entered with his guards, he crossed his legs in princely fashion and looked at her.

“Tell me about the content of your Etiquette of Royal Ladies course.” He said, looking at her questioningly.

“There is quite a lot of content covered in that, Highness. If you would be more specific, that would be helpful.” Vera prompted though it was clear she wasn’t keen to speak about the topic.

Paolo looked at her for several silent seconds, a hint of impatience in his typically kind eyes. He could tell he was about to get the run-around. Instead, he licked his lips and leaned forward.

“You were hand-picked for this role by my mother, weren’t you?”

“Of course.” Vera confirmed with a smile. “I saw to your eldest sister’s education.”

“Of course you were. Bang up job there, by the way.” Paolo commented, his tone indicating his contempt quite clearly. “There we have a person who has enough training to stay silent about wrongs done but not quite enough to humbly forgive. We have you to thank for that?”

He meant no insult to his sister. In fact he was angry for her. She was a series of tangled up knots because of this woman. He wasn’t going to let the same happen to Amalie.

Vera’s brows went up at Paolo’s venomous assessment of the Princess Regent. “The Emperor and Empress were quite pleased by her education, Highness.”

“I know they were.” Paolo said with a frown. “But I was not. I suppose you deserve an opportunity to explain yourself before I decide whether or not I will make it my sole mission to destroy you and your career.”

The older woman just blinked at Paolo. “I’m afraid I don’t understand the problem, Highness. I performed the task assigned to me by your mother and father and did so in an exemplary fashion.”

“They commanded you to teach my sister never to bother the men in her life with her troubles?” Paolo asked, leaning forward.

“She was taught not to trouble the men in her life with trifles.” Vera explained, crossing her legs at the ankles.

“And would you consider what happened to her a trifle?” Paolo asked, looking almost as if he were testing her.

“To what are you referring, Highness?” Vera asked, quirking a brow at him.

Paolo nodded then, smiling.

“So you’re stupid as well as incompetent. Amazing.” Paolo said as if it were all a joke. He opened the PADD and looked at the details presented. “Explain to me the underlying theory behind this educational teaching? Why is it essential for the noble woman?”

This time, the woman frowned. “Highness, I am not sure why you have come to insult me or my work. The fact is that the Emperor and the Empress themselves have set me to this task. If you have an issue with it, I am not the person to speak to regarding it. You would have to talk to your gentle mother.”

“I don’t like it when you leave my questions unanswered like that. I’m far from stupid and I do notice.” Paolo said, his jaw setting. “Tell me what I want to know and stop trying to distract me, or I will consider us beyond the help of discourse.”

“Highness, I am not trying to offend you, this is simply the way of things.” Vera replied patiently. “Such questions should be answered by your mother if you have any concerns about how the way things are running. This was a regime approved by her.”

Paolo was angry, that much was clear, but he hesitated in his response. It took him several seconds before he finally turned and nodded to one of his guards. The young man immediately handed him a crimson red folder. Paolo opened it, stood and walked over to her desk, and then fanned out a series of pictures onto the woman’s desk.

“You have a daughter named Ariana. She’s a pretty girl and…the son of the Lord of Toscana seems to agree. Here they are flirting outside a party. Here they are kissing in the hot tub and…I'm a bit young for the rest.” Paolo said, his voice shaking just a bit. “Who would have thought that my dear uncle, the younger brother of the Empress, liked blondes so much? Governess..do you think Ariana’s husband would have thought that?”

Vera looked at the images before her with a frown. “This is a matter for Ariana and her husband to figure out. I’m not sure what bearing it has on this conversation, Highness, unless you are resorting to an attempt of cruelty and blackmail to get your way when I am only following the rules set before me.”

“I am resorting to that, it seems.” Paolo said with a frown. “And if you don’t give me what I want, these images will be leaked to RZI. I’ve got connections that will make sure it’s frontpage news. The scandal at court will be unbearable and you’ll be forced to resign in shame.”

“If that is what you feel you must do, then that is what you must do, but I will not betray the trust the Empress and Emperor have put in me to see to this task for anyone, even you, Highness. They would be extremely disappointed in you right now.” Vera frowned sadly at him, shaking her head. “This is not the first time I have been threatened by someone to divulge the secrets of this family through blackmail. I did not bow then and I will not now. If you have a conversation with your mother and she deems it appropriate that I brief you on Amalie’s education, then I will, but it is simply not proper to discuss girls’ education with a young man. This has been the Terran way for a hundred years, I thought of all the Emperor’s children, you would respect tradition.”

Paolo inhaled sharply, thinking about what she had said. He wasn’t one for blackmail, she was right, but he was also a student of history. His family had done an excellent job of scrubbing the Empire clean of its more jagged traits where it suited them. No knives were poised at their backs and they were surrounded by professionals. He was the dutiful rule follower, but he was a Terran and something deeper, darker lived in him as well. He clenched his fist.

“You’re disappointment means nothing to me. You don’t have my confidence or respect. Your teachings did harm to my sisters and created waves of misfortune in my family. I know what the teaching is supposed to be, but it should be taught by people who understand nuance; that there is a time to bother men with your problems. She didn’t get that lesson from you and it marred all.”

Paolo stepped up to the desk, his one fist balled up and the other hesitating at his side.

“You haven’t answered simple questions for me of the most general kind, and I am the Crown Prince. You’re acting like a fool, and I'm determined to show you. You will offer your resignation to the Head of the Royal Household by noon today or these images will be on the front of every news bulletin in the Empire. And ma’am, if that doesn’t finish you, I will try something far worse. I will not stand by silently while you ruin my wife and teach her not to communicate with me, do you hear me? I’d rather have you dead than do that. I love her, I have all the power I need to protect her, and I’d rather have you die a thousand times over than have you even speak to her again.”

“Highness, you began with insults and ended with threats. I am not sure exactly what you are trying to accomplish here. You asked a very broad question, I asked you to be more specific as it is quite a lot that is covered in the curriculum and while it is inappropriate to go into details, I could have perhaps offered some insight; you chose to not clarify. You asked about some incident with your sister, and then call me stupid when I again ask you to be more clear; there were many incidents with your sister, I don’t particularly know why you expect me to remember each one.” Vera shook her head, clearly disappointed by what she was seeing. “Wanting me dead for doing the task given to me by the Emperor and Empress? I thought you were supposed to be better than your brother.”

Paolo’s jaw set, his brown eyes going wide with disbelief. He wasn’t insulted much, and he found this one particularly upsetting. She dared compare him to his rapist, wife beating brother; the one who had so recently tried to kill him with his bare hands? He glared at her darkly. She would pay for this.

“Good day, Madam.” He said, and then turned on his heel toward the door.

“Good day, Highness.” Vera replied, watching him leave and then immediately setting to alerting the Empress about what had transpired.

Once Paolo and the two young guards were outside the door, he proceeded down the hall and made a quick exit from Amalie’s apartments. He turned to the two of them when they were quite alone, his fists both clenched now.

“Take care of her.” He said, looking between them, then seemed to realize what he was saying. “Don’t kill her. A few days in the hospital should hopefully do. Don’t get caught. I’d hate to get either of you in trouble.”

“We’ll take care of it, Highness.” One of them said resolutely.

“Good.” Paolo said, clapping both of them on their shoulders. “Good morning.”

With that, he turned and walked away, his movements quick and decisive.

END
]]> Wed, 07 May 2025 00:11:27 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/863 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/863
Mission - Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location - Alpha Onias III

It was nearly three hours before Commander Nairok returned to the R,Vandrix, and when he exited onto the Bridge, he stood just as tall as ever. Wordlessly, he moved to the commander’s chair and lowered himself into it. He sat like a king on a throne, looking around at all those staring at him. He was silent, but held their attention all the same. And then he parted his lips and began to speak.

“The Admiral and I are resolved that something illegitimate has occurred that resulted in the slaughter of the Terran Marines. As a result of our discussion, we have decided to investigate the issue further. On the planet, we located a patch on the uniforms of the dead Klingons. The Admiral’s crew confirmed it is the emblem of Ka’Dul, a for-hire military unit functioning within the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance.”

There was a natural wave of murmured responses and surprise from the assembled crew. Saeihr sat behind the helm, her chair turned to look at Aeler as he spoke. She couldn’t deny his presence was alluring; he would have been an excellent Terran had the gods not cursed him to be as he was.

“So what does this mean?” One of the other officers asked.

“It means we are Romulan, and we must fulfill our patriotic duty to the Republic.” Aeler started, raising his voice suddenly, though it couldn’t be called a shout. It said a lot about his presence that it surprised some of the Junior officers enough to make them jump. “We must find evidence and expose this conspiracy. The only question is: where to start?”

“Perhaps we should allow the Admiral to take the lead.” The sub-commander’s voice came calmly a moment later. He crossed his arms, but it wasn’t in challenge to Aeler; he was obviously uncomfortable with the dangerous proposition being made. “Can we be sure this isn’t some sort of test or trap?”

“I mean no disrespect to the Admiral, but she isn’t ready to lead this effort.” Aeler said with a frown to his Sub-commander. “I had to convince her this was a worthwhile endeavor, and it would be easy for her to lose heart considering how things are stacked against us. We will, of course, follow her orders, but we cannot wait for her leadership.”

Rydek’s lips pursed briefly, but in the end the older Romulan believed in his commander. Aeler hadn’t addressed this potentially being some sort of test or trap, but Rydek didn’t feel the need to repeat himself.

“Perhaps we should look at who has the most to gain.” Saeihr finally spoke, her tone submissive but her voice loud enough to be heard.

“That’s a smart approach.” Nairok said, nodding to his lover and pilot. The minority faction among the Senate and military are excellent candidates for that. They believe Romulus would be stronger with strong ties to the Alliance.”

Rydek crossed his lean, strong arms over his chest, a scowl appeared on his slightly aged face. “A foolish notion, but not an uncommon one, I’m afraid.”

“We can start our investigation by confronting the leader of the Task Group that was supposed to be delivering Romulan troops to the military exercises. Rear Admiral P’Noral is a known member of the B’avan Faction. I imagine he might know a thing or two about what happened that day.” Nairok said.

“I agree, but it will be difficult to approach him without tipping our hand. Regardless, might I suggest we depart from here and resume our normal route while we make our plans? We have already drawn enough attention to ourselves.” The sub-commander pointed out.

Nairok thought for the moment in silence before nodding.

“I agree. I will consult the Admiral and discuss our immediate next steps.”

Nodding, Rydek turned his stoic gaze onto Saeihr at the helm where it lingered a brief moment, moving over her beautiful, youthful face. He was older, but he could still appreciate beauty when he saw it. “Lieutenant, take us back to our patrol route, warp four.”

“Aye, sir.” She nodded, turning her chair back to the glowing green console in front of her. Romulan aesthetics did have their appeal. She touched the controls with skilled hands and broke their orbit, swinging the ship around back into space to set them back onto task as Rydek moved to take his seat.

As the IRW R,Vandrix turned from the planet, Nairok watched with unseeing eyes. His mind was filled with possibilities more than any dangers their task might present. They had to get to the bottom of this, for the sake of Romulan honor and the future of his people.

OFF

]]> Wed, 07 May 2025 00:05:30 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/857 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/857
Mission - Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location - Alpha Onias III

The engines of the powerful flagship of the Romulan Fleet spoiled down as they did when the ship dropped out of warp. Aeler Nairok knew that could only mean one thing. He stood from his desk in the office and started to return his beverage to the replicator.

It had been five hours since the man had ordered a change of course directly to his pilot. He hadn’t bothered to brief the whole ship, and the only officers who would be truly aware were those on the bridge who might choose to monitor such things. None, however, would know their destination.

It was moments before the shift change, and Savi Rydek, Sub-Commander of the R’Vandrix, was first to arrive. He made his way immediately over to his seat and picked up the log book that would give him all the information he would need about ships operations during the night.

“What on Tantar’s Peak is this?” He asked, his energetic voice cutting through the relative silence of the Bridge. He looked to the helm, starting to cross the distance. “Lieutenant, what is our location?”

“Alpha Onias III, Sub-Commander.” Saeihr replied from her station in an easy, informative voice that offered no more explanation. She adjusted how she was sitting slightly, pulling one of her legs back closer to her chair and hand. It was innocuous enough, a simple shifting to be more comfortable, but to her it was more. “As ordered. We are currently sitting under cloak.”

“As ordered by whom?” He asked, incredulous, shifting his own weight as he stood up taller and looked at the purple and orange marble of a world on the viewscreen. He frowned. “We’re 6 hours off our patrol, Lieutenant. I wasn’t informed of any course change.”

“Ordered by Commander Nairok, sir. Respectfully, you’ll have to take that up with him. I follow his orders.” She replied, though dipped her head in deference to the man as if in apology.

“Hmm. I know you do.” He said, his expression skeptical. “When did you receive these orders? Under what circumstances?”

The doors to the Bridge swished open and Aeler entered dressed in his crisp uniform. He observed the situation immediately.

“Sub-Commander. We will talk later. For now, helm, take us closer to the planet. Put us in orbit over the crash site.” Aeler said, sitting in the command chair and speaking in a tone that invited no disagreement or questions.

“Aye, sir.” Saeihr complied immediately, bringing their large ship in closer to the planet and the site of the massacre of the Terran marines. “Standard orbit achieved, Commander.”

“Transporter Room, be ready to receive an away team.” He said into the comms. “Saehir, Lieutenant Hlak. You’re with me.”

“Commander, I must insist you explain this.” The Sub-Commander said, exasperated but clearly intimidated.

“You can insist what you like. Later.” Aeler answered.

“But rumor indicated this planet is off limits to military personnel.”

“I don’t respond to rumor, but to orders. Are you aware of any standing order that forbids our entering this system?” Aeler asked.

Rydek hesitated, his lips standing open. After a moment, he lowered his head, wordless.

“You have command until my return. Hold orbit and keep watch.” Aeler commanded, and then made his way back to the turbolift.

Saeihr joined him near immediately after handing her station off to her second. She took a deep breath, centering herself and trying not to think about what she was going to find on the planet. She was deep into her cover, but at her heart, she was and always would be Terran. She ached for the loss of so many, but she knew she needed to maintain her focus.

The three of them, Nairok, the pilot, and the chief of security, headed down to the transporter room in the turbolift. They got several seconds of walking through the corridor before Hlak spoke to Saeihr as their commander walked ahead of this.

“What is this all about?” He asked under his breath.

“You’ve heard the rumors of what happened here.” She supplied, walking next to the man with her hands behind her back. “I assume we are going along to investigate the validity of the matter.”

“But with no orders coming in through comms and no information given from the Commander, this..” he paused in his hushed speech. “I don’t think we’re supposed to be doing this.”

“It isn’t our place to question this. We need to assist our commander in whatever he is doing - that is our duty. We can worry about anything else later. Besides, we shouldn’t make assumptions about his motives.” She pointed out, her tone understanding of his concerns but resolved in support of their commander.

“Okay, I see that’s what we’re doing.” Hlak said, sounding a bit dismissive but not bothering to counter her claim. Instead, he followed after Nairok up until the point the stepped into the transporter room. Once they were in and stepping up to the pad, Nairok turned to the two of them.

“It’s not clear to me what happened down on the surface a week ago, but I’ve done everything I can to find the answers conventionally. I keep hitting dead ends.” Aeler admitted. “Something deeper is going on, and for the sake of the Republic, I intend to poke my head in and take a look. I just need to know the two of you are with me, in for the truth and nothing but, no matter what we find.”

“Of course, Commander.” She nodded, facing Aeler, but her blue eyes shifted slowly over to their security chief, communicating her suspicion of him in silence, but obvious to her lover.

“Yes, sir.” Hlak said, his tone obedient, but nothing more. It didn’t take a psychologist to tell he was far from pleased with the arrangement, but he wasn’t going to make a big deal about it at this point. After all, he and just about everyone else on the ship felt that their commander was the future. “I will follow your orders as always.”

“Good. I don’t know what we’ll find down there, but I know I need bright, quick, discreet officers with me.” Aeler said. He turned to the transporter chief then. “Energize.”

They materialized in a valley of orange fields of grass. Above them were vibrant lavender skies. No structures graced their view, but streaks of blood and carnage ravaged the golden ground. In the air was the powerful stench of death. The bodies had been collected for the most part, but the filth that couldn’t be identified as being from one particular soldier or another remained, rotting in the open sun.

Aeler’s arm moved over his mouth and nose.

“Gods. It’s…it’s horrible.”

Saeihr looked around, her blue eyes wide. While she knew the numbers of the massacre, it had hardly prepared her for this. Tears sprung into her eyes, and she buried her face into her arm, gagging and trying not to be sick from both the visceral and emotional reaction. She could feel her heart breaking - so many Terran men and women senselessly slaughtered; she had to do everything in her power to see this made right.

Hlek, for his part, neither covered his face or gagged, but he did wince at the smell. His dull eyes surveyed the scene with interest, looking down to make sure he wasn’t standing in filth.

“The rumor is the Klingons took the Terrans completely by surprise. Air raids softened their defenses, and then they beamed in with bat’leths in hand…took those still left alive with overwhelming numbers. A blood bath, plain and simple.” He said, sounding almost like he wished he could have seen it himself.

“The question is…how did the Klingons know the who, where, and why that allowed them to completely destroy our allies.” Aeler said.

“Because someone told them, sir.” Hlak said without thinking, and then hesitated after the fact. “Or, perhaps I should say, some bad actor or double agent got the information for them.”

Saeihr looked over toward Hlak very quickly, then focused on straightening herself, pointedly not looking down at the viscera surrounding them. The way he said it made her wonder, but she didn’t want to jump to conclusions. “Perhaps… what are we looking for, Commander?”

“A sign..a clue. I have no more than that yet.” Aeler said, turning his eyes to the gathering of Klingon corpses rotting on the ground. “Let’s start with these..they’re the most complete remains.”

“Alright.” She agreed, resigned, and moved with the two men toward the fallen Klingons and the Terrans around them. Her people had fought valiantly; they had died like Terrans - as much as they could have in circumstances like this. Squatting down, she began to inspect the bodies as carefully as she could without touching them at first.

The Commander displayed the same care and caution Saeihr was showing, searching the bodies with a sense of reservation and respect, but Hlak took a more direct approach. He was the one to flop open one of the Klingon bodies and comment first.

“Interesting patches on these uniforms.”

Aeler left his own search to join his security chief. He looked at the swirl pattern indicated and from.

“I’ve seen it before. Do you recognize it, Saeihr?”

With the two men briefly distracted, Saeihr was able to remove the patch from one of the Klingons and slide it into her uniform. She had seen it seconds before Hlak, and when Aeler and gone to him it provided her the opportunity to take it unseen. She stood and moved over to them, looking down at the patch.

“It looks vaguely familiar, but I’m not sure.”

“Take one, Hlak. We’ll have to search for the insignia when we return.” Aeler said. “Perhaps it’s nothing, but it’s all we have so far.”

“What a fight this must have been.” Saeihr sighed and shook her head. “So typical for the Klingons though. I’ve never known a species to take so much pleasure in killing.”

“That’s true. And it was supposed to be a joint exercise, but no Romulans in sight.” Aeler said, and then something came to him. “We could assume a transport with Romulan troops was en route, yes? That would be easy to find out.”

“Yes, it should be.” Saeihr agreed thoughtfully. “If there was one and they didn’t arrive though, the question will be why and if there is a reason, is it actually true.”

“R’Vandrix to Commander Nairok.” Came the voice of Subcommander Rydek over the coms. “We may have a problem up here.”

“Subcommander, report.” Aeler said, furrowing his brow.

“The IRW S’Freyr just warped into the system. Vice Admiral Kitan asked for you directly. When I told her you were on the planet’s surface, she took her ship into orbit. I believe she’s planning on contacting you.”

Saeihr narrowed her eyes. The sub-commander could have alerted them before and had the party return to the ship, but undoubtedly he wanted them to be caught red-handed down here. She frowned and looked to Aeler, her brows lifting in question as to what he wanted to do.

“She can contact me in any way that she likes.” Aeler said, but then thought better of it. “On second thought, request the Admiral to join us here on the surface.”

It was a bold move to be sure, and Saeihr found herself drawing closer to the two men she had accompanied down to this gruesome graveyard of a place. It was suspicious that this woman and her ship had shown up here - especially so quickly. Were they watching the planet, or were they watching Aeler?

Several moments past in tense silence as the three of them seemed to wait amongst the lifelessness of the valley. After a few moments, their patience seemed increasingly ridiculous. Then, when the moment was pregnant, Green transporter beams brought in two forms.

The one on the right was tall, strong, and young with the pips of a centurion and the second was shorter with smooth skin and just a shock of gray in her hair to tell her age. The woman immediately covered her timeless face, but the taller man barely blinked.

“Admiral Kitan. I’m surprised to see you here.” Aeler said, looking a significant amount less disturbed than her, mostly from exposure.

“I could say the same to you, Commander Nairok.” Kitan said, forcing back a gag as she stepped off of some brain matter. “You’re going to have to explain your presence here.”

“And why is that, Admiral? I’m aware of no regulation or order which would prevent me from being here.” He asked, a challenge in his eyes.

“That’s hardly the point.” She responded. “You’ve taken the flagship hours away from its patrol. What happens if the Klingons attack?”

“Then we won’t be present to pull back from battle and retreat as your orders suggest we should.”

“Not my orders, Commander. High Command.” She cut back, some tension entering her voice. “As you know, I’ve always been in favor of engagement.”

Saeihr’s eyes moved between the two as they spoke and sniped at each other. Of course, she wanted to interject, but bringing unwanted attention to herself was too much of a risk. Instead, she looked over at the other officer who had beamed down with her. She had noticed his complete lack of reaction to what they had beamed down into, and she watched him quite carefully for anything else that might be of interest about him.

I know you’ve said that, ma’am. Whether it’s true or not, none can say. Certainly not me.” Aeler responded, looking to the soiled dirt beneath them. “This is a tragedy. The result of an act of violence from the Klingons. But I wonder if any on our side knew.”

“What are you suggesting, Commander?”

“Nothing, Admiral. I’m wondering.”

The Admiral frowned, more concerned than angry, and turned to the other two officers with Aeler.

“Lieutenants, return to your ship immediately. Commander Nairok will return to mine for a conversation.” She said.

Saeihr frowned, looking to the admiral but back to Nairok. Her loyalty was to him, and despite the differences in rank she waited on his command to depart with Hlek back to the ship. She didn’t betray her feelings, simply looked the part of the loyal officer.

“Go. I will return to the R’Vandrix after our conversation.” Aeler said, his chiseled body standing more erect and confident. “And if I don’t, you will know for sure that treachery is afoot.”

“There is nothing to worry about, I assure you.” The Admiral said, monotone.

“Aye, Commander.” There was an appropriate amount of reluctance in her voice then moved close to Hlek. The security officer tapped his badge and called for transport, and the two of them vanished in a shimmer of green.

OFF
]]> Wed, 07 May 2025 00:02:01 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/856 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/856
Mission - Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location - IRW R’Vandrix

The Romulan Fleet was unsettled, and it had been for weeks. Rumors had begotten more rumors, and those additional speculation. Aeler Nairok, however, was not a man for rumor. He’d climbed from Cadet to Commander of the Republic Flagship through acting decisively, regardless of the fog of war. He wasn’t a fool, of course, but he had less trust in the softer skills than the next man.

The Senate was an institution as old as Romulus itself, but the leaders there no longer inspired confidence in the soldiery. Men of action and men of cunning so rarely got along. Their alliance with the Terrans against the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance was their last great chance to remove the boot poised at their heel, but so many didn’t see it that way. So many, in fact, that the rumors surrounding the attack against the Terran Marines was seriously expected to be the doing of some very stupid politicians. Of course, none of that was his business.

He sat up in bed, his hands finding his face. He’d tried to get to sleep for nearly an hour and had gotten nowhere. The commander's quarters were spacious and well-decorated, music played, the air was full of a soothing scent, and still nothing. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was at the precipice of some all-important moment; one that would define his life forever. He feared he was somehow unready. His door chimed them and he stood, sporting only his underwear. And the scars the Klingons had left him.

“Come in, whoever it is.” He said, scratching his full head of hair.”

The door opened, and into his quarters stepped Saeihr D’mora. Her blue eyes scanned the room, and not seeing him immediately she instead headed toward his room. She had been a loyal officer under his command, and with time they’d grown close - very close. Unbeknownst to the vast majority of his crew, she also served as her Commander’s paramour.

She stepped into the doorway, wearing a very simple dress that looked nice, but wasn’t anything super eye-catching. She didn’t want the attention. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“What else is new?” He asked, looking at her from his place on the bed. Even her silhouette was beautiful to him. “You too?”

“Maybe sympathy for you.” She reached up and pushed the straps of her dress down her shoulders and let it fall away from her thin, feminine figure leaving her completely naked. She slid into his bed, crawling up to him and keeping her body low, indicating her submissiveness to him.

He watched the movement of her slender body as she dropped the dress on his floor, and as she moved to him in the bed, he rejoined her under the silken covers.

“You always seem to have a lot of that.” He said, his hand moving to her hip and holding it. “But I suppose I’m feeling some other man’s worry in the first place. I worry about Romulus.”

“What troubles you?” She asked, sliding up close to him and placing one of her dainty hands on his chest. “Can I help?”

“You’ve heard the rumors.. the death of the Terran Marines; the strange attack at the Embassy on Terra..our government remains silent instead of condemning either one.” He said, looking at her. “We’re on the Klingon border, but High Command never lets us fight..never more than a skirmish with no real casualties. These suited bastards are waiting for something..and so am I.”

“Mm… yes…” She frowned thoughtfully, relaxing with him in his spacious bed. “But what, is the question.”

For a moment, she continued to ponder, and then brought her blue eyes up to look into his dark gaze. “You know… we aren’t that far from where the attack on those marines happened.”

“That’s true.” He remarked. “Just about five hours at maximum speed. But what is there to prove in going really? t’Nairrekh has been holding us back for almost a year. That’s what got me captured before; what got my crew killed. Whatever they’re up to, it has nothing to do with our movements.”

“Are you so sure?” She challenged, but gently. Her hand came up to touch the side of his face.

He frowned, her hands on his freshly shaved face bringing the vulnerable core of this magnanimous and larger-than-life man to its core.

“They call me a hero of the Republic, but the last time I stuck my neck out past my orders, my entire crew was slaughtered at the hands of the Klingons. My brothers didn’t lift a finger to help us because they were following orders.” He said, and hesitated. “What if I mettle and get more good people killed?”

Saeihr’s eyes softened, on her beautiful face there was a sympathetic frown. Leaning to him, she kissed his forehead followed by another very gentle one against his lips. “There is a risk, but… the Terrans are our allies in this fight, and right now it looks like we abandoned them to die. They wouldn’t be happy about that… we might lose them.”

“I’m concerned that’s the plan. That the First Consul has a plan to switch sides or make a deal. It’s the only thing that makes sense.” He said. “Getting involved could put us at odds with the entire High Command.”

She frowned deeply, frustrated concern on her beautiful face. “But why would they do that? What could we possibly hope to gain? Do… do you really think they would have allied us with Klingons? I can’t even stand the thought.”

“I think that t’Nairrehk is looking for the best deal for her. Maybe Worf made a better offer than Antonius.” He said, speculating with the fruit of all those rumors. “I never underestimate a person’s ability to act selfishly.”

The woman offered no words immediately, and instead rested with him quietly. Her head was on his chest and her body was pressed close to his as if she were seeking his comfort and safety. Finally she spoke, though it was softly as she understood the weight of her words. “Selfishness can’t rule an Empire. The Klingons can’t be trusted. The Terrans are dangerous, but we can’t deny to this point they have been faithful allies to us.”

She lifted her head, looking into his eyes and frowning with deep, patriotic concern. “How many thousands, millions might die if we throw our lot in with the Klingons?”

“The Terrans are devious, but their ruling House has never shown the duplicity and the insane megalomania of the previous ones. The Orsini have some honor, and they need us more than the Alliance does.” He said, looking at her and putting a hand through her hair. “The Klingons and Cardassians have every incentive to double-cross us. I just don’t know what I can do.”

Leaning into his touch, Saeihr closed her astonishing blue eyes slowly and sighed. This was a difficult place to be in. “The Terrans are searching for answers, perhaps it might behoove us to assist them in that search… quietly.”

“That sounds like treason.” He said, his tone contemplative rather than accusatory. “And it’s not the sort of thing we could keep a secret for long. There could be serious consequences if we get caught.”

“There would be… but what if we are right?” She questioned softly, allowing her expression to show both the pain and sadness of someone who understood well the consequences of what they were saying, but still saying it anyway because they believed in it.

He moved his hands over his face, hiding his expression in an obvious sign of stress. He lived on the knife’s edge quite often, and he found himself wondering why destiny had fallen on him.

“I suppose some good could possibly come of it.”

Gently, she pulled his hands from his face and replaced them with soft kisses. Gently, she touched her forehead to his. “You know I will stand right by your side whatever you decide to do, Aeler. We want what is best for our people, but I want what’s best for you, too.”

“The good of the Romulan People is my good.” He said, looking at her again, a bit of resolution returning to his handsome face. He was normally so confident, but he had shown her the self doubt he had hidden with everyone else. “Romulus’ destiny is my destiny.”

“Then we can’t let the selfishness of politicians endanger our people.” She kissed the corners of his mouth gently and then touched his cheek. “I’ll be by your side. We will face this together.”

He smiled as she kissed him, his hands moving to her naked back. He returned the kiss then, feeling the earth of her lips on his own, her familiar, comforting touch. He kissed her again, deeper, and then coaxed her onto her back in a slow, smooth motion.

“Where did you come from, Saeirh?” He said to her, his green-tinted body moving over hers. “My counsel; my light.”

She laughed softly and kissed him on his lips with more earnestness than gentleness. Her hands moved down to push his boxers from his hips, but she didn’t do more than that and simply wrapped her arms around him. “Let me take care of you, my heart.”

It wasn’t long before they were wrapped in each other, making love passionately with obvious love. His moves were smooth and gentle, never pushing her with physical exertion. All was comfort and tenderness.

END
]]> Tue, 06 May 2025 23:59:14 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/855 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/855
Mission - Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location - The Pyramid

Paolo’s arrival at the Imperial Palace had been a surprise as he had planned. His mother and Amalie had learned very soon and had found him in his apartments after his arrival. They spent the morning with him, dropping their previously scheduled meetings and occasions to be with him. He noticed their interest and their eagerness; there was a strange lack of testosterone in the Palace among the royals.

At one point, he had managed to convince them to resume their schedules and not uproot their entire day for him, and he settled in his own space again. After reading through his boxes, however, he started to feel like he should really be connecting with the other present members of his family.

Giana was in her office at the Pyramid, having returned to her public role as a Regent weeks before. He walked into the outer office rather unceremoniously, causing her staff to hop in for surprised formality rather suddenly.

“Is the Princess Regent in?” He asked, polite as always, but stronger and deeper than before.

“Yes.” The man behind the desk responded, his voice high and strained. He paused, then added slowly. “Do… do you want me to retrieve her? Do you want to go and see her?”

“No, there’s no need to bring her out. I’ll just go on in as soon as she’s ready.” Paolo said in a polite tone, though not quite as gentle as it would have been months ago, nor as squeaky. Since becoming Crown Prince, he’d been esteemed over his sisters at Court. He never thought twice about it or gave it much thought.

“Alright.” The man sat down stiffly again as if he weren’t quite sure it was proper. “One moment, Highness.”

He turned his attention to his console, and after a few minutes one of Giana’s other assistants walked out with an older woman. The two exchanged a few words and then the woman continued on, though paused to curtsy to Paolo on her way by. The assistant curtsied as well and offered a slightly nervous smile to Paolo.

“This way, Highness.”

She walked with Paolo down the hallways, the offices and conference rooms busy with various people from all of Giana’s pursuits. It seemed perhaps the notion that his sister wasn’t doing much was false. The assistant opened the door where Giana was inside standing by the window sipping tea from a cup while holding a PADD in the other hand. She was wearing a fashionable deep burgundy pencil skirt with a matching blazer over a ruffled cream colored blouse. Her hair had once again been returned to its pristine solid blonde and was pulled back into an elegant bun. She still looked a bit too thin, but other than that she looked like herself.

As Paolo stepped in, Giana lowered the PADD and eyed her little brother. She hadn’t seen him since his birthday right after the funeral, and he had steadily kept growing into a man it seemed.

“Paolo.” She greeted in a neutral voice.

“Giana.” He returned, his voice deeper than the last time they spoke. He strode toward her, unlike most everyone else who visited her and waited for some permission. He came to a rest on the other side of her desk. “I came to Court and wanted to drop by to say hello.”

“Yes, I’m sorry I wasn’t there to greet you. I’ve already received an earful from mother, but I was busy.” She walked back over to her desk to set down the tea and the PADD.

“I didn’t expect you to be.” He said simply, looking her up and down in an appraising manner, his increased confidence obvious, though not overbearing. “I can join you in your work if that’s where your mind is. What are you working on?”

Giana eyed him slightly, skeptical. “I thought you just came to drop by and say hello.”

Paolo grinned then, a grin more mature and handsome than before. His perfect white teeth showed.

“I did, but you’re the most interesting person in the family and I’d really like to probe you for subtle clues.” He said, again, very honestly. Paolo was still a young man without guile, for better or for worse “Call it concern or entertainment. It’s both, really.”

“Here I thought you were complimenting me for a moment. Silly of me.” Giana sighed and reached up to rub her forehead. “I’m very busy, Paolo, and I’m in no mood to be your amusement for the day. That’s what you have Amalie and mother for.”

“Oh.” Paolo said, his tone flatter than before. He didn’t deflate like a little boy or whine, but he did seem a bit annoyed. He took note of the fact she wasn’t wearing mourning clothes anymore, which made him look at her fingers. “Fine. I suppose I’ll leave you to it then.”

There was something in his tone that was final and obviously not approving. She was going through a hard time, however, so he’d promised himself he wouldn’t push her. He turned smartly in his heel and made for the exit.

Giana sighed again, this time lowering her hand. “Wait, Paolo.”

Paolo very nearly left anyway; she’d made herself quite clear already and he didn’t feel he needed his feelings coddled. He paused by the door and turned to face her, his dark suit a pleasant compliment to his dark hair.

“Yes?”

She hesitated for a brief second, and then gestured to the chair on the other side of her desk. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day already. Come and sit down.”

“I don’t mean to disturb you, Giana. I thought a visit would be welcome. If it isn’t, I can simply go about my business.” He said, not advancing toward her in any way, but standing strong at the door.

“If you’d like to, go ahead, but it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you; we should catch up.” Giana offered again - the second time going to be the last. “You are welcome, Paolo, I’m just… tired.”

Paolo nodded, not considering for another second before coming back and finding the seat she’d offered.

“I’ve been seeing your signatures in my box again, so I knew you were back to work.” He commented, looking up at his big sister.

Giana took a seat and considered what to say. If he was only here now, it seemed perhaps Paolo hadn’t been keeping up on his boxes with as much devotion as he once had; it didn’t bother her and she wasn’t going to point it out. “Yes. The paperwork is endless, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“It is a constant battle, yes.” Paolo said with a grin. “But you’ve proven yourself more than capable of handling the workload. Of course, I’m not sure how heavily you use your staff.”

“More than I used to, but I’ve found that’s for the best right now.” She admitted. “Do you want something to drink?”

“That sounds lovely. Perhaps some tea.” Paolo said politely, not pretending he wasn’t interested in something to settle them down together. “If you’d do it yourself, you’d have to give up all of your life. No time for family, friends, or the other important things.”

“Well, I didn’t have much time for that anyways and somehow I still don’t.” Giana shrugged and then gestured for one of the servants standing by to fetch the tea. “How have you been faring in your seclusion?”

“Painfull, difficult and violent.” Paolo said with a chuckle. “So, exactly what I asked for really. I can feel it changing me slowly. Into what, I don’t know..”

“Hopefully not into anything too vulgar. There is such a thing as too much muscle, you know.” Giana eyed him with her beautiful blue gaze in an appraising way.

“I hardly think I’m there.” Paolo said with a smirk. “But it feels good to be able to defend myself. I’ve felt what it was like to be overpowered and to be helpless. I’m not interested in repeating the experience.”

“No… I could imagine not.” Giana replied, her mind drifting to Giuseppe and their childhood briefly. She’d asked their father to learn to fight once; he’d laughed at her. “I think you’re doing the right thing by you, Paolo. I know mother is worried, but she doesn’t understand.”

“Why would she?” Paolo asked rhetorically, leaning back in his chair. “She’s never had an experience like that.”

“No, she hasn’t. I would hope she never does.” Giana shrugged and watched the fresh tea be placed down in front of each of them. “So what have you read in your boxes lately?”

“I’ll admit I’d grown a bit lax over the past weeks, but recently I’ve taken a fresh interest. I start with the Intelligence, military, and security reports and then work my way through to domestic policy. There certainly has been a lot of mysterious illusions in intelligence, defense, and foreign affairs. I asked for clarifications from the departments and they told me to talk to the regents.”

“Of course they did.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head, though obviously she wasn’t frustrated with him. “Well, then, I’m sure you still have those questions?”

Paolo gave a nod. It wasn't why he was here, but getting it out of Giana was sure to be a heck of a lot easier than getting it from his mother. And Ramsay would likely be helpful, but he also doubled as Paolo’s government tutor, so he wasn’t sure if he would get the information straight or as a learning opportunity.

“Well you don’t have to raise your hand and wait to be called on.” Giana prompted him with the smallest hint of impatience. “What do you want to know?”

“The intelligence suggests the Klingons knew exactly where our training op with the Romulans was to take place and when. An investigation was authorized by the regents under the authority of the Imperial Chancellor. After that, my updates haven’t been forthcoming. I suspect someone in Imperial Intelligence has been keeping the reports out of my box.”

“To be fair, that isn’t really going into anyone’s box but mine.” Giana waved a hand slightly. “I’ve been working with the Chancellor and Director Nazar on that particular… project.”

Licking her lips, she took a sip of tea and willed it to become wine with little avail.

“And the other regents have agreed to let you manage the situation alone?” Paolo asked, fearing he already knew the answer. His tone was neutral and curious.

“I have a certain amount of leverage in this situation, Paolo, and I found that I wasn’t above using it for my purposes.” Giana replied, giving him his answer though not completely directly.

“What leverage?” He asked boldly, leaning in a bit more. He was shameless when he was seeking information. “What do you have?”

“Mother and Ramsay removed me from military matters after Axanar as you know, in doing so the Romulans became their problem, and all of the reports that indicated that something might have been wrong were either pushed to the side or simply fell there. Their negligence in this matter resulted in the deaths of nearly five thousand of our people - Sacha included.” Giana looked away, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly but she didn’t appear to be ready to burst into tears.

That was quite a lot to unpack for all of them. Sacha had saved his life, giving him a new respect for the man. He had even participated in his training a few times before he shipped out to the Romulan border. He thought of Giana’s pain for a moment, but decided to spare her the conversation.

“Has the investigation confirmed there was some sort of collusion between the Romulans and the Alliance?” Paolo asked.

“Yes, but right now Nolan and CJ are trying to figure out exactly the best way to deal with that.” Giana lifted a finger and opened her desk, shifting through a few folders before she pulled one out and gave it to Paolo.

“I know you haven’t been getting these, but I figured you would show up eventually.”

Paolo looked down at the papers, skimming the first page and then leading through the subsequent ones. It wasn’t lost on him she had thought of him.

“Thanks.” Paolo said, looking up at her.

“I’m not going to antagonize intelligence to provide these to you, but when you want to read them just come by my office and I will have them given to you.” She placed her left hand absently on her desk, and there he could very clearly see Sacha’s ring was gone.

“Does someone in Intel have a problem with? Why don’t they want me to have access to this?” He asked, his eyes lingering on her hand. “I always received reports when Father was in charge.“

“I don’t believe so, Paolo, this is just something that is being kept very close to the chest. Mother and Ramsay don’t receive these papers either, they are given their information through briefings. You have no real position right now according to… morons… but I don’t particularly care to play by the rules anymore.” Giana gave a shrug.

“Great.” He said, moving quickly. “I’d love to receive the reports as you do. Or at least a briefing.”

“Well, as I said, you can come by here and I’ll give you the reports. I can see about getting you into the briefings given to the regents, but mother and Ramsay will likely be hesitant to allow it. I can’t tell what is driving them - shame or fear.” She finished her tea and lowered the cup down.

“Them not allowing it is..increasingly unacceptable to me, if I’m to be honest.” He said. His tone was mild, but he clearly meant it. “It’s difficult for me not to be a problem. It’s for the best they allow it, I think.”

“I agree and I’ve said as much, but I’m one and they are two. I am certain it isn’t malicious and they simply think they are protecting you, but I don’t know if I believe that’s possible for any of us anymore.” Giana shook her head. “I find myself wishing Elana hadn’t stepped down, truth be told.”

“I could inherit at any moment, and they’re trying to protect me from the truth?” Paolo asked, his voice strained. “When will people learn to stop being so stupid?”

“Love does that, it seems, and blinds people.” Giana shook her head. “Though I’d like to hope you don’t wish for the demise of your mother, older sister, and trusted teacher so soon, little brother.”

“I don’t. All I ask is to know what’s going on. It’s reasonable, and I’ve kept myself out of the affairs of the state for weeks. It just seems they're rewarding my measured approach with less influence and information.” He said, furrowing his brow in frustration. His fists balled, indicating it did indeed make him angry.

Giana noticed his fists balling and the way his body language was changing and frowned. “I’m not arguing that, Paolo. They tried to do that to me too.”

Paolo leaned back then, his jaw set and his expression resolute. He looked at her evenly.

“Well I'm not going to let them do it to me. I’m returning to court and I’ll continue my training here.” He said, his mind clearly made up.

“I think that’s a good idea.” She said simply and reached up to brush a few strands of hair back behind her ear. “Did you have any other questions?”

Paolo said nothing for a few seconds as his mood slowly returned to normal. Once he was close again and his tunnel vision on the issue at hand had mostly gone away, he looked at her soberly.

“I noticed you don’t have your ring. How are you holding up?”

Giana automatically pulled her hand back and placed it in her lap under the desk. Her expression waned, and for just a moment Paolo could see under that carefully put together outward appearance, his older sister was still tired and sad. “It’s been months now, it was time to take it off. I put it away with some… other things. I don’t know that I’ll ever look at them again, but the thought of throwing them away… I couldn’t.”

She finally frowned then, and focused on taking slow breaths to try and keep tears at bay.

“Of course not. Those things are special. Just because they don’t fit into your life in the same way anymore doesn’t mean you should get rid of them.” Paolo said, his face scrunched into a sad frown. He imagined it was a sad thing to have one’s beloved frozen in time, and to be doomed to grow older and to change without them. Giana would grow, mature, marry, and have children with some other man; Sacha would stay the same. It was no small thing, but an unspeakably huge one.

“Unfortunately, this kind of tragedy almost seems to run in the family.” Paolo said vaguely.

“It does.” Giana confirmed and then finally looked over at Paolo. “Perhaps something you should keep in mind during your courtship of Amalie.”

Not only did Paolo scowl at that warning, but a short sound of protest escaped from his lips to go along with it. It had clearly made him angry, and the fact he didn’t respond right away made that quite obvious. He wanted to chastise her for saying such a thing. Then he decided it wasn’t necessary the worst advice.

“Right..” he said with a huff, leaning back even farther in his chair. He sat there for several silent moments, his kind racing between what she’d said and thoughts related. Eventually, his warm brown eyes moved back up to her. “Did father ever tell you of your namesake? In detail, I mean.”

“Only after I asked him.” Giana frowned and shook her head. “Ever since I’ve never really known how to feel about it.”

“There were times when I’d go into his study with questions about my studies…he always loved to answer those. But while he was often hard at work, other times I found him standing at the window and watching the little people go about their lives or staring darkly into the fire.” Paolo said, remembering with a frown. “He wouldn’t want to talk then, and I could swear he’d been crying, though I was too afraid to ask.”

Paolo leaned up again, sitting in a more respectable way.

“Once, when I was sitting with him in silence, he told me something I don’t think I can forget. He said the most important things of life sometimes never seem to be so until they are taken away. Then he said…that his best years were so far behind him he could barely remember them anymore. He was looking at a picture, and I was wondering if it was her.”

“Perhaps it was.” Giana gave a slight shrug. “It is rather sad for our mother though. She wasn’t wanted, she was the replacement, and she is reminded of that every time she says my name.” She mused then, folding her hands across her middle. “I wonder if he even loves her, if he ever did.”

“They didn’t marry until 16 years after Pia’s death. I’ve heard rumors Grandfather forced him to take another bride for the sake of the family.” Paolo said shaking his head. “But I’ve never seen them angry with each other and he does seem to love her…just..maybe not as much.”

“I’m sure he cares for her, but that’s certainly different than love. I think mother loves him deeply, but it is quite one sided.” Giana sighed, shaking her head. “How terrible.”

“Is it quite different?” Paolo asked, looking at her skeptically. “He married her, treats her well, listens to her, and gave her children. Before the attack, they spent quite a lot of time together and I think they’re close. I’m not sure what more he could do.”

His tone was defensive rather than neutral. He was closer to their father than their mother, for sure, but he was also a growing young man with a different way of thinking; one more traditional than that of his sister.

“Perhaps it isn’t, for a man, I certainly wouldn’t know. It is for a woman.” Giana shrugged. “He could have not named his daughter after his dead first wife as a constant reminder that she was not the one he truly loved, he could not get weepy eyed over a picture of the woman so many years later.”

She leaned forward on the desk then toward Paolo. “Would I seem like I loved my husband if I insisted on naming my son with him after Sacha?”

Paolo’s frown deepened. The way she was thinking was unintelligible to him. How could she think this way?

“It’s not his fault he loves and misses his wife, Giana. And maybe Mother is okay with it. Maybe it was her idea.” Paolo said with another shake of his head, like he had a bad taste in his mouth. “If you love someone, you can’t just stop because they’re gone.”

“It wasn’t her idea. Just watch her face one time at any event where my full name is announced. She is certainly not okay with it, but what choice did she have, really?” Giana shrugged slightly. “The problem is though, Paolo, if you don’t try to stop, or at least do it less, there’s no room for anyone else.”

She looked away and out of the window again. “There’s room for other kinds of love of course - children, family, but spouse? No. I’m sure my own husband will have to deal with that. Do you think that’s fair?”

“Of course it is. Your next husband will know what happened to you and will accept that about you when he decides to marry you.” Paolo said, realizing the connection that fueled their discussion. He imagined the guilt she might be feeling on the subject. “And that thing that happened to you..that terrible thing..it’s not your fault, and you shouldn’t be blamed by anyone. Even if it’s inconvenient for them.”

“It was my fault, in a way, and truthfully I don’t think I would do it again knowing what I do now… and that is love.” Giana shook her head. “At least we seem to agree as a family now that love doesn’t matter, though. I’m afraid Amalie will be disappointed at her age; she’ll get over it though with babies and a crown.”

“How dare you?” Paolo asked, his tone unusually hot. He was on his feet in a second, amazed at his sister’s words. “I love Amalie. Don’t mistake your hang ups for mine, Giana. That’s not fair.”

Giana blinked, actually seeming confused at her brothers reaction. “We literally just sat here and agreed that it doesn’t matter, Paolo, I don’t understand why you’re getting upset?”

“Those were your words, not mine. I don’t think love is all about feelings, and having more feelings for someone than anyone else, and if I did, that’s certainly what I have for Amalie.” Paolo said, still upset. “So to suggest she’ll be unhappy with me is so inappropriate. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you thinking of us like that.”

“I didn’t say she would be unhappy with you, Paolo, I just said she would be disappointed you wouldn’t love her in the way little girls like her dream of being loved.” Giana replied simply, still confused by his reaction to it all. “You don’t need to make it a worry, I’m sure her tutors are taking care of it.”

She said this of course like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Yes they are, like they took care of you. I hate it.” Paolo said, exhaling through his nostrils. “I wish I could fire the lot of them and hire someone with a brain to teach her, instead of filling her with these asinine teachings about how she should never voice her concerns or ask when she needs help. I hate it!”

Paolo turned then and kicked the chair he’d once been sitting in with his polished black dress shoe. It collapsed to the floor, making a loud clanging sound.

The door opened immediately and one of the attendants entered with clear concern only to be waved away by Giana. There was hesitation but the woman did withdraw. Giana then looked to her little brother, her brows raised. “I don’t understand why you’re so surprised that is what women are taught, Paolo. That’s how every good noblewoman is raised. Myself, Elana, mother, Amalie… every girl you’ve ever known with a title.”

“It shows.” He said, his tone low, turning back around to her. “It shows.”

“Then why are you upset about tradition? You who are so in love with them, why is this a problem?” She asked, seemingly genuinely curious as to his answer.

“Because, Giana, the tradition is clearly stupid.” Paolo said. “I’m all for traditional structures, but they’re lying to girls about what their husbands and fathers want and need. And I’m going to change it. I’m going to start by talking to Mother about Amalie’s tutors.”

“You might want to wait until you’re a bit older, Paolo, and you might decide you like that tradition. You want a girl who thinks like a peasant, but we aren’t peasants. It won’t work.” Giana shook her head, doing her best to be patient with her brother’s ridiculous notions.

“I never said they should. We just don’t need them to be brainless liars who keep every thought they have bottled up until they become resentful, spiteful, and jaded. We can do better than that.” Paolo said resolutely. “The purpose of that training was to make a good Terran, wife, and mother, not a zombie. It’s disgusting, and I’ll not be waiting. I’m tired of waiting.”

Giana rolled her eyes. “Of course you would think they are brainless; that couldn’t be farther from the truth. The fact is, Paolo, is that that is a good Terran woman, wife, and mother. Never a burden, never a bother, she follows the head of the house without question because that is what tradition demands, is it not? If she is resentful or unhappy, that is her problem to fix and deal with or her husband will simply move on to the next woman - one who is far less troublesome. Men have enough burdens, they don’t need women's trifles on top of it, there is nothing in our lives worth a man’s attention unless it pertains to his children or his home. He provides, and because of that his preferences should always be catered to and women should just be grateful for what he does give because what else would we have? We can go be a burden to our father or closest male relative and be ridiculed by society.”

Paolo leaned in, his eyes narrowing at her.

“Says the Princess Regent. You can’t possibly believe that, Giana. It’s impossible.”

“Don’t bother arguing with a man is another thing.” Giana said dryly as she looked at him. “I could tell you every bit of my experience Paolo, and you will sit there and stare at me and tell me I’m brainless, foolish, didn’t understand, took it out of context, or any one of a thousand things to try and invalidate it, so why would I or any other woman bother? And you know what, maybe your right about it all - so again, why would anyone bother? This is the way noble society is set up, women are beholden to the mercy of the men in their lives, I’m beholden to father, and when he passes, I’ll be beholden to you if I remain unmarried. Why would we say anything that would risk our peace and protection?”

“Then we agree.” Paolo said, raising an eyebrow. “You can’t even listen anymore after they got in your head. I’m saying they teach women to be brainless, not that they are. Also, not everyone is like that. You're a princess and you probably got it worse than just about everyone else, but that doesn’t make it right. “

He licked his lips.

“Our society has a head, and he can change the tradition and the teaching if he wills it.” He said, standing up taller. “And one day, he will.”

“Father will never change it, Paolo, and frankly we don’t know how long he is going to be here.” Giana shook her head. “And you’re several years off from being head of anything, legally, no offense intended.”

“Offense taken.” He said, his previous anxiety about bothering people seemed to have evaporated. “I’d like your help to right the system that, frankly, ruined your life. But if I can’t have your help, I’ll find a way to do it without you.”

When he took offense, Giana just simply looked away. There was no winning here. He wanted tradition, then he didn’t want tradition, the wanted to follow the law, then took offense to the law. He was growing into a fine Terran man indeed. She hadn’t checked out completely, however, and half listened to the rest of what he had said.

“Are you asking for my help, or are you already assuming I won’t help you? I can’t tell.”

“I think you’ve made yourself perfectly clear you think I’m naive and incapable of making change.” Paolo said, the veins in his forehead popping a bit. “Why would I waste my breath and your time asking you for that?”

“I think you’re naive because you’re fifteen, and all fifteen year olds are naive to many things in life and think they aren’t. I think you are incapable of making change because the law says you can’t - and it’s right, you can’t. Not alone.” She looked at him then, raising her brows slightly.

“Which Regent is the one who has made sure you have been included as much as you have been again?” She asked and reached out to tap the stack of papers in front of him. “Made sure to think of you? To not think you’re weak and helpless and in need of coddling because your older brother tried to kill you?”

“What is your point here, exactly?” He asked, frustrated by her insistence on being as difficult and contrary as possible with him. “Do you not feel I’m grateful enough for your taste, as you berate me for wanting to fix something you’ve been complaining about for years?”

“I feel like you’re being blind that I am on your side and I have been since we started down this path, Paolo.” Giana said and stood, she looked over his face with all of his veins popping out in anger, considered his kicking of the chair. He reminded her of Giuseppe, but at this point she was out of brothers. “Whatever dim view you take of me as a person, fine, but you can’t deny that fact.”

“Damnit, Giana. I Don’t take a dim view of you. I was talking about a problem I see in the Empire and talking about how I think it should change, and all you’ve given me is criticism and correction. I don’t think you even notice we’re saying the same thing.” He said, running his hands through his hair. “I’m telling you that I’m going to try to have it changed. If you’ll help me, that would be wonderful, but if not, I’m still going to try. You don’t have to and I don’t expect you to. Though if you don’t, I’ll admit to being a bit confused about what the hell you want to see in the world.”

Giana wondered why it was that her explaining to him about how the world worked for women was somehow criticism and correction, but from anyone else he likely would have viewed it as education. “I’ll help you, but it isn’t going to be easy, Paolo. Ramsay and mother are going to resist it.” She paused then, and lifted her brows. “And you’re going to need to figure out exactly what you want to change here.”

“I already have.” He said, calming a bit. “I for the answer out of Ramsay during my last government lesson. Ever since Amalie visited me in China, I’ve been pouring over old decrees on the education of noble children. We’ll need an entirely new law. We won’t get it from the Regents directly, but the Senate could make it happen. All Mother and Ramsay would have to do is vote yes or abstain to assent in the Council of Regents.”

“And if they don’t?” Giana asked, tilting her head.

“We’ll cross that Bridge when we come to it.” He said, almost dismissive. “We’ll get them to.”

“You should plan for that bridge needing to be crossed.” Giana said simply, but there was a resigned tone to it as if she already knew her advice would be dismissed.

“So what exactly are you going to change then? You brought up the decrees, but what about them?”

“The bIggest problem, as I see it, are the teachings on communication. We shouldn’t be telling our girls not to bother the men in their lives with their experiences. It’s ludicrous.” Paolo answered.

As she sat there, Giana wondered how her little brother was going to deal with this plan spectacularly burning to the ground. He thought himself a man, but he wasn’t man enough to understand that men didn’t want to deal with women’s problems and simply thought women were being crazy or hysterical.

“Go on.” She prompted him nonetheless. “Or is that all?”

“That’s all, as far as I’m concerned.” He said, seeming to feel like that change enough.

Giana started to say something and then stopped, looking at him. “Would you like to know what I think?”

“Sure.” Paolo said, not seeming concerned whether she was in agreement or not at this point, but perfectly open to hearing her.

“Men aren’t going to back this.” She lifted her hand when she saw even an inkling of potential protest coming from him. “Terran men aren’t taught to be thoughtful, Paolo. You are, and that’s wonderful, and I am happy for your future bride because of that, but that isn’t the reality.”

“Okay.” He said, looking at Giana as if he didn’t really believe it. “Well, maybe. But what does it hurt to try?”

“You’ll make yourself look weak.” She replied simply.

“Oh well.” He answered, seeming unbothered by the pronouncement. “They’ll say you talked me into it. You and mother. Not that that’s what I want, but that’s what I expect. I Can always fix something like that later. But the important things need to be held as important.”

“Do you think I’m a good person, Paolo? Be honest; I’m not going to take offense.” Giana asked, folding her hands.

“I’m not sure what that means.” Paolo said quite honestly, seeming as unbothered by the question as the ones before it. “Good how?”

“Selfless, I suppose.” She supplied, wondering if her brother actually saw her as “good” in any light.

Paolo seemed to think about the question then for several seconds, giving it the time and consideration it deserved, before he looked at her.

“Yes. I think your motivations are generally related to the people you care about and your place in our lives.” He answered. “Why do you ask?”

Giana blinked and actually seemed taken aback. Clearly, that was not even remotely the answer she had been expecting to receive on that topic. She had always been accused of being selfish, even by the ones she loved the most. “I think our parents would disagree with you there.”

“Well…they aren’t perfect.” Paolo said with an unsurprised nod. “I used to think you were. But recently, I think you care about others more than you get credit for. Sometimes you don’t act selflessly, but that’s not so unusual. You always come back around.”

“Well that’s… kind of you, Paolo.” Giana replied, and even though her voice was slightly strained she did seem to mean it.

She thought for a moment, then looked across the desk. “You’re not going to be able to fix the girls unless you fix the boys too, Paolo. Even if this could pass by some oddity, it wouldn’t work in practice. Women would try to speak, their husbands are just going to become exasperated and likely act out because of it, and then the women will go back to being silent.”

“But their daughters will stop learning those dreadful lessons if the tutors are commanded to stop teaching them.” Paolo said. “And if they continue to teach them, we can cut out their tongues. Simple enough.”

He grinned, clearly joking.

At that morbid bit of humor, Giana actually laughed, though of course covered her mouth in a ladylike way. “Paolo, that’s terrible.”

But she didn’t say it wouldn’t be necessary.

“It’s the old way. Some say it worked.” He said with a shrug. “Still, not the Orsini way. Not the Terran way any longer. So they keep their tongues for now. Ruling it out for certain, however, might be a bit premature.”

Giana pursed her lips, considering for a moment if she should tell her brother the reality of what had happened, but he didn’t need to know everything at once. “A reminder of the possibilities should they not fall in line would not be remiss.”

She glanced at the clock and then looked at Paolo. “I have another meeting coming up soon, little brother.”

“I’ve got to get back to the Palace.” Paolo responded. “Know your time is valuable, and I appreciate you taking the time to see me, Sister.”

Giana nodded and then hesitated for a moment, looking across to him and his rapidly maturing face. “Be careful, Paolo, with what you’re learning. It is a good thing you’re doing, but don’t lose who you are. Giuseppe liked to kick things too when he was angry.”

Paolo thought about that for a moment, finding it an amazing comparison. Giuseppe had been an abuser from the start. Still, he found the message still had its value.

“I’ll remember that.” He said with a nod.

“Take care. I’m sure I’ll see you again very soon.” Giana nodded her farewell, but didn’t rush him out the door.

Paolo took the hint very gently and departed with a smile. He moved quickly and confidently, feeling no need for any grandeur or attention as he made his way back out into the outer office. He passed Lord Price on his way to the exit and offered the man a nod to his greeting. There was an interesting meeting, but he supposed they world closely together on the Council of Lords. He decided to mind his business for now, and made his way out.

END
]]> Sat, 28 Dec 2024 23:24:05 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/847 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/847
Mission - Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location - China House

Months had passed; the universe moved forward, and he was still just as angry as he had been when he saw the hatred in his older brother’s eyes. He could still feel the pressure on his throat, like the ghost of the dead man’s hands choking him…killing him. It was all he could do not to scream.

The wooden sword made contact with his cheek, making a terrible sound and leaving an immediate welt. His hand shot up to his face, but he didn’t whimper even as the young man who had issued the strike gasped.

“Your Imperial Highness, I’m so sorry.” The man said, his eyes as wide as dinner plates. His stringy blonde hair was matted with sweat, leaving him looking disheveled and desperate with his current expression.

“It’s nothing.” Paolo said, lowering his hand from the red mark. He stood shirtless, the previous pale boyishness of his body replaced by something shaped, more defined, and more manly. Paolo had changed on the outside as much as he had on the inside, and a sudden growth spurt had made all of his old clothing ill-fitting. They’d bought more for him, of course, but he barely wore anything other than his workout gear or his pajamas.

China House was an excellent training ground for his mind and his body, giving him the space and isolation he needed to train and heal. And since his dear regents didn’t seem to desire his counsel, he had simply retired from the political scene. He’d even stopped reading his government boxes. The only thing he’d learned had been from his tutors or from other visitors.

“Get your sword back up. That was a lucky shot.” He said, narrowing his eyes at the blonde man. “Again!”

The Crown Prince raised his own practice sword again, the newly defined muscles in his shoulder showing his readiness. He wasn’t angry, but determination was written all over him.

The young man hesitated slightly at the order and his eyes darted to the guards standing nearby watching over the Crown Prince carefully. They hadn’t moved; they never did during training sessions, but the fear was naturally still there. With a small nod, he lifted his sword again and shifted his stance to a wider one in anticipation of Paolo’s attack.

Paolo got into a defensive stance between the trees, his eyes narrowing and focused. His practice blade was held low and stealthy, a clear sign of some very distinctive training. He had been learning the art of battle and reading the histories of great warriors, and the angry beating of his heart honed him slowly into a man much harder than the boy he was expected to be.

When the young man supposing him lunged forward with his sword, Paolo swatted it away as if it were planned, denying the strike to his already bruised body. The young man spun and swung again. That blow, too, Paolo turned aside with his own blade. He delivered a kick then to the young man’s stomach, sending him dealing back on the defensive.

Paolo stood taller, the huge green trees that surrounded them like guardians watching the exchange of blows.

“Good, Your Highness. Control the battlefield. Let him come at you and wear him down, then strike when he is weak.” Came the grumbling voice of a tall man with a sloped forehead and a long salt and pepper beard. He turned to the other young man and gestured. “Come at him again.”

The blonde man steadied himself and did as he had been bid to do again. He came at Paolo quickly at first, but feinted his first attack low and then came in high.

Oftentimes, Paolo was out training in these woods half the day, and he had been taught by one of the best. He didn’t fall for the trick, and instead dodged the swing by moving quickly to one side.

Anticipating Paolo’s dodge, his opponent quickly pivoted around and instead of taking the more natural and anticipated swing low again, he struck high a second time and hit Paolo squarely across his upper back, but the hit was obviously significantly softened judging by the young man’s physique. One had to be careful training with the future of the Empire, though thankfully Paolo had proven so far to not be a sore loser.

Paolo’s jaw set. He had found an elusive competitive spirit in battle, and he had really started to hate being outmaneuvered. He took a step back and reset.

“Don’t let small losses distract you from the victory.” The bearded man said from the sidelines. “The Men you trained with are older and stronger than you, and they’ve watched you fight many times before. You can’t easily surprise such a man. Learn to.”

Paolo waited again, pursing his lips and waiting for the next attack. When the young man finally came on, he met his sword with his own and stepped into the strike. He was closer than the young man anticipated, and his next move gave even more of a surprise. He kneed the young man in the stomach again, and grabbed his sword arm with his free hand. Extending it, he hit the man’s arm with his sword in a move that would have cut off the appendage had the sword been real.

“Well done, Highness.” The young man was able to get out despite having the wind knocked out of him. He waited for Paolo to release him without struggle and rolled his free shoulder while doing so. Glancing up, he saw one of the palace servants approach and speak to Paolo’s trainer, but he paid it little mind.

“The Crown Prince has a visitor when his lesson is concluded.” The servant spoke quietly, not pressing the matter but seeming to simply deliver the message so time did not go over as it so often did.

The tall man nodded, then turned back to the clearing.

“That will be all for today. Your Highness, you have a visitor to attend to and you need time to recover.” He said.

Paolo nodded, approaching the servant with a slightly lazy step. He’d had a growth spurt, and was as tall as the servant now. He’d also refused several hair cuts, and his dark hair was longer and more unkempt than a princes obviously should be.

“Okay, let’s go then.” He said in an uneven, almost annoyed tone as he fell into step with the servant, still shirtless. They walked for the next ten minutes until they reached China House, the sprawling mansion estate that he had selected as his getaway.

“Shall I inform your guest you will need a few moments more to clean up from your training?” The servant asked and glanced over at Paolo, though didn’t dare let it linger for fear it may have come off as judgmental.

Paolo looked down at himself. He was shirtless, bruised, and dirty. Raising his eyebrows, he looked at the servant again.

“I probably shouldn’t greet them in this.” He said, giving only that as a reply. Then he turned away and went to his suite. When he emerged some time later, he was clean and wearing her black pants with a red tie and a matching black vest. His hair was still ascue, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He stood tall and confident as he walked into the audience room, looking disinterestedly to see who had bothered to visit him.

Sitting quietly in one of the chairs waiting for him was Paolo’s intended and when he entered she stood and curtsied to him. She was styled in a pretty pale pink dress, but despite the girlish presentation, it was quite obvious that just as Paolo was becoming more man than boy, she was becoming more woman than girl. That sweet innocence she had exuded when they had first met had been tamed or perhaps extinguished completely over the past few months in her training to become Empress.

“Hello, Your Highness.” She greeted in a voice that didn’t quite sound like what he would have expected.

Paolo’s eyes grew wide when he saw her standing before him, not only because he hadn’t been expecting her in the slightest, but also because of the way she had developed. Her child-like sweetness was now secondary to her beauty, and he looked at her with an interest he hadn’t necessarily shown before. He’d always liked her, of course, and was eager to marry. But now he found himself eager for certain specific parts of marriage.

“Amalie..” he said, taking several strides forward and stopping in the middle of the room. His eyes searched her face in admiration. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I hope I’m not imposing?” She asked, taking a single step toward him but not closing the distance more. Her pretty eyes moved over him, but besides the small and courteous smile she wore, it was hard to tell her feelings at a glance. They had barely seen each other more than in passing over the past few months, and Paolo was usually so focused on what he was doing - or so grossly disinterested - that she actually wasn’t sure if he really noticed her. They’d spoken once briefly after the incident with Giuseppe, but hadn’t really since.

“No..” he said, his eyes drifting down from her face and then resettling there when he’d taken notice of what he was doing. “No, people visit all the time. Well..some people. You’re most welcome.”

He stayed where he was, suddenly a bit awkward, as if he didn’t know if he should close the distance between them or not.

“Are you well? It feels as if we haven’t spoken in months.”

“Oh yes.” Amalie replied and shifted on her feet while she brought a hand up to nervously brush some of her hair back behind her ear. “I spend most of my time being tutored and the rare time I get away I go back to my family. You look…” She paused and eyed him again. “Taller.”

“You do too.” He said, lifting his head and showing the beginnings of genuine confidence learned in fighting and, in some ways, in his older brother’s hateful eyes. “And very beautiful too.”

“Thank you, that’s kind.” Amalie replied, blushing just a bit and giving a more innocent smile this time. “I just… wanted to come talk to you. See how you’ve been and what you have been doing while you are here.”

“I’ve been training…reading.” He answered, taking yet another step toward her. “My Governor and tutors join me here too.”

“Training?” She probed, her eyes drawn to his body under his clothes for a moment. She wasn’t blind, he hadn’t just grown tall. “Training for what?”

“To be a man.” He said simply at first, as if it was explanation enough. “I’ve been learning to fight from a master trainer. He has me running, lifting weights, and training with sword and hand-to-hand combat”

“Oh.” She blinked and brushed her hair back again, her smile fading with a slightly awkward shift of her body. “Okay. Are you… enjoying that?”

He nodded, his eyes moving down her body again and taking longer to return to her eyes again. There was something unusually brazen about the look, and he didn’t seem ashamed.

“I have a newfound love for constructive violence. I’m improving every day.” He answered. “We should take a walk.”

“Alright.” She agreed, giving no indication of her feelings on wanting to do so or not. She closed the distance between them finally, joining him so he could take the lead.

As they made their way out of the main entrance and her chaperone, one of his mother’s ladies, started to follow him, he offered Amelie his arm.

“Tell me about yourself.” He said, seeming genuinely interested, his eyes on her instead of the steps they were approaching. “What have you been up to lately in your training? You seem different.”

“I’ve been learning to be a good consort.” Amalie replied, briefly glancing toward the steps then returning her attention to Paolo. “Most recently I’ve been learning how to run a household like the imperial household and that when done right, there really shouldn’t be any evidence of it at all.”

“That’s also a sign of good government.” Paolo said, taking them down the steps and showing concern with making sure she didn’t fall. Still, as they started toward the tree line, his eyes were glued on her. “Is that all?”

“I’ve been learning the history of your family and making sure I know the names and faces of the Secretariat and the prominent noble families as well as anyone else the Emperor would usually work closely with.” She offered up and looked out onto the grounds. They were quite beautiful and while she expected it given it was an Imperial residence, it wasn’t like anything she had seen before in her short, sheltered life.

“No. None of that explains what’s so different about you.” He said, as if she had been trying to answer that had been weighing on his mind. They walked past the first trees and started into the green forest along a path.

“Well, it has been a big adjustment for me. It wasn’t so long ago I was going to school and learning about various subjects and having my friends and family around me.” Amalie pointed out softly. “I guess that’s what is so different, but I’ve accepted it.”

“But are you happy?” Paolo asked, almost tripping over a branch in the path as he watched her. “Such a big change would really shock some people.”

“It’s challenging.” Amalie replied diplomatically, stumbling with him when he did since they were linked arm in arm, but she didn’t even seem to react to it. “I know it probably all sounds quite silly to a man. I’m sorry.”

“What?” He asked, furrowing his brow at her. “Not at all. I really want to know about your experience. You aren’t silly to me.”

“You just have more to worry about than trivial things like that is all, Your Highness, I understand that.” She glanced at him and gave him a smile. “I’ll be perfectly happy.”

“But I just said I wanted to know.” He said, his tone kind but less gentle than before. He knew this behavior well. It was how his sisters behaved before they became convinced they were victims. “Are the tutors teaching you to treat me this way?”

Amalie frowned then and looked away, her eyes moving back and forth almost like she were trying to read the pages of a book in search of an answer. His response confused her as it was not what she had been told to anticipate, and she was trying to identify where she had misstepped. “I’m just… trying to be respectful of you as a man and what is important to you. It is what I learned…”

Paolo’s jaw set. It made him angry they taught noble women to pretend to be this way. It was good to be unselfish and to treat men like men, but it was the ‘not burdening them with problems’ aspect that made him so mad.

“And what if you’re important to me?” He asked, looking at her, his eyes soft. “You can tell me how you feel without being a burden. I take care of you and you take care of me, yes?”

Behind the pair, their chaperone cleared her throat loudly.

Amalie started to answer, but when the older woman cleared her throat, she glanced back with a dismayed look on her face. She couldn’t help that Paolo wasn’t responding like the hypothetical man should have in the scenarios she had been learning. “I-I’ll always take care of you, of course.”

She squeezed his arm a bit tighter and looked away from the woman following him, her eyes lowered to the ground. “It’s been difficult.”

Paolo frowned deeply, feeing the warmth of her body against his. He felt an ache that only young love could cause, and he paused their travel very suddenly. Turning, he looked at the chaperone.

“I won’t be siring any children with your charge out here in the woods.” He said, keeping his voice even. “You may go back to the house.”

Amalie blushed deeply at his comment and she was thankful her eyes were already down.

The woman paused in following them and pursed her lips. She was aware of Paolo’s position of course, but she had a duty as well charged to her by the Empress. “It would be extremely inappropriate for you two to be left alone, Highness, your mother would not hear of it.”

“Then don’t tell her.” He said, gesturing to her in a reasonable and moderate tone. “She isn’t here, and I wish to speak to my intended alone.”

“I really must insist I stay, Highness.” The woman persisted, patient in her own way but clearly displeased he was trying to get rid of her. “It is not for your benefit, it is for your intended’s. It would be highly improper for a girl of her age to be alone with a boy or man and it would sully her reputation. I’m sure you don’t want that.”

“You aren’t here to protect her reputation. You’re here to control her.” He said, tensing noticeably. “Go back to the house now, or I’ll have you taken back by force.”

“Control her? What ever could you mean? I am here as her escort to make sure nothing untoward is said or done, that’s all.” The woman protested.

“I don’t want to cause trouble, Highness.” Amalie spoke to him softly and in a tone that indicated that while he might be able to order this without repercussions to himself, they may very well come back on her.

“You aren’t. I am.” He said to her, his tone resolute. He scowled at the woman, convinced she had to go. “And if anyone ever hears that we were alone, we’ll know who told.”

He looked at the woman with eyes growing steely and much harder than they normally were. It was a threat as potent as ever Paolo did issue. Subtle and deniable, but certainly a threat.

The woman scowled outright now and looked at Amalie. “It will be on your head then, girl, when they start whispering about your virtue. I am not the only one who watches over the two of you.”

With that, the woman turned and stomped off, leaving them alone and Amalie standing with Paolo looking very conflicted.

“Don’t let her frighten you. Fear is her only tool.” He said, looking to Amalie. “If you’d like, I can call from one of my valets to accompany us.”

It was easy for Paolo to say such a thing of course, but the problem was the woman hadn’t necessarily been completely wrong.

“I… don’t know that it would matter if it is just another man if it wasn’t one related to me.” She admitted softly and unsure.

“Then I’ll have seven maids sent out.” He said, watching her carefully, waiting for her response. “Really anyone but that woman.”

Finally, he earned a slight giggle out of Amalie with his comment, the sound sweet and innocent as he had been familiar with before. “She can be a bit… overbearing yes. I’m sure she means well.”

Paolo smiled brightly at her smile, having gotten exactly what he was after. He allowed the moment to rest there for a moment before he responded to what she said.

“You can tell what someone means by what they do. I used to think otherwise, but I’ve learned to judge the tree by its fruit.”

He opened his Sonus and shot a quick message to his protection platoon commander.

“They’ll get us some women to escort us at a distance. That way we’ll avoid scandal and have some actual privacy to talk.”

Amalie nodded and considered what he had said about what someone meant by what they did. “Do you think a tree can change its fruit?”

“Of course I do.” He said with a positive nod. “But do they? Rarely, I think. How about you?”

“I think it would be very sad if they couldn’t.” She replied thoughtfully and slid her arms around herself as they waited in place for the maids to arrive. “And I think it would be sad to think they couldn’t too.”

“Maybe.” He said, letting a bit of silence pass between them. “But we can all change. Whether an individual has the will to is a different question, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I suppose it would be.” Amalie agreed thoughtfully and looked around. “The China palace is quite beautiful. Is it your favorite residence?”

“It’s China House, actually.” He corrected gently just as he saw a gaggle of female staff starting into the forest. “And no, it’s not my favorite. It’s really just the most private. The forest makes it remote in a way our other properties just aren’t. The Serenity Palace on the moon has always been my favorite. Amazingly beautiful with an excellent view of Terra.”

“I’m sorry. I still get them a bit confused which is a palace, house, and estate. Why aren’t they all called one thing?” Amalie asked him curiously.

“Well House and estate tend to be synonymous with a mansion and its surrounding land. China House and Hawaii House, for example, are private getaways where royal children come to sulk or to be alone. They’re considered private by their very nature. Palaces were built for the Emperor, on the other hand. The difference isn’t formal though.

“I see. Maybe you will be able to show me Serenity Palace when your studies allow? I’d like to see your favorite place.” She smiled at him, brushing her hair behind her ear and glancing out toward the women making their way over.

Two maids in matching formal clothes approached them and curtsied. They were both young and full of energy, but said nothing as was their training. Paolo turned his attention from his fiancéekmentarily in order to address them.

“Follow no less than twenty meters as we walk. We wish to speak without being heard. Be sure you keep us in your sight.”

Assured they understood, he offered his arm to Amalie again.

“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.” He said.

With a smile, she slid her arm back in his and when he started to walk again, she fell in easily with him. “That’s very sweet of you. You’ll have to let me know when you have time.”

“Have you done any traveling since you moved to Rome?” He asked, cherishing the feeling of her warmth. “Even just the city? Or have they kept you huddled up in the Imperial Palace?”

“I was at the Pyramid for about a month even after everything happened to learn how life works there and also how the regency period functions. After that I went to the Palace. I’m not allowed to travel without specific permission and when I do it is mostly just to go and see my family.” Amalie explained. “I’ve tried making some friends but it is hard.”


“I know what you mean.” He stated. Paolo grew up much the same way, but there had been events and occasions galore to give him the chance to mingle. And once he made friends, play dates and visits with them were on the table. “Since the attempt on my father’s life, royal occasions are all but gone. My mother hasn’t been throwing any parties, and I bet that leaves you alone in the bubble. I’m sorry.”

“Well, it is understandable she isn’t throwing parties or anything like that, and I know I shouldn’t complain, but it has been really lonely when I don’t have anyone my age around and it’s just my tutors all the time unless it’s my family.” Amalie squeezed his arm gently. “I’m sure your mother is missing that sense of normalcy.”

“I think so too. Though, I wish she would just throw herself into her work again. She does her boxes, I know, but where are the social gatherings?” He asked, rhetorically. “You should be learning to act as a hostess anyway. Maybe I should have a word with her…”

“She probably just doesn’t really feel up to doing it.” Amalie noted after a beat. “She misses the normalcy but what’s normal about the past few months at all?”

“It’s a new normal.” Paolo said, a certain subtle edge in his voice. “Things aren’t going back to the way they were and it’s better that we all adjust to that reality right now rather than later.”

He looked into her pretty blue eyes and sort of softened then.

“My mother is tougher than this. And she knows what her duty is to the Court..to you. I’ll see if I can help her. I know it hasn’t helped that I’ve been gone.”

Amalie frowned mildly at his cynical take, but she seemed to understand that he was affected by what happened to him and rightfully so… though she supposed she had hoped he wouldn’t change too much because of it. Surely the Empire didn’t need another warrior? She licked her lips and glanced away. “I know she does miss you quite a lot. I think your sister does too… in her own way.”

“It’s just that I’ve been very busy. That’s all.” Paolo said, offering an excuse which wasn’t asked for. “And it’s nice out here..normal, somehow.” He smiled and chuckled. “Perhaps you should move in with me.”

The skeptical look that had appeared when he had given his excuse disappeared in favor of a blush on her pale cheeks at his mention of moving in together. “Eventually… but if you did come back to court we would see each other much more often, you know, and I’m sure your mother would be happier with you nearby.”

It wasn’t as if physical distance was the issue, of course, with the technology available to them, but it was clear Paolo was shunning his family connections while he focused himself internally. The distance was more metaphorical, but no less detrimental.

“Mmm.” He said in place of actual words. His not responding seemed intentional, though he certainly wasn’t projecting it. “I suppose that’s probably true. Maybe I should start with a visit and see how it goes.”

“I think that would be wonderful.” Amalie encouraged with a bright, warm smile and a squeeze of his arm. “Everyone would be so happy to see you, I’m sure of it. Do you have any idea when you would want to do that? I’m sure your mother would want a chance to prepare something special for you. Maybe I could help her.”

“Special, as in…food?” Paolo said, suddenly remembering the last time his mother cooked for them. It was terrible, and a shadow of the taste still remained in his memory as the idea was mentioned. “I hope you have some experience with that then.”

“Cooking you mean? I do… though I suppose I assumed such things would be made by chefs? It has been since I’ve been at the palace? What I would cook would be nothing like you’re used to I’m sure.” She noted with a mild frown.

“Sorry, Mamma likes to cook on certain special occasions and it’s…honestly, it’s a nightmare.” He said, and smiled at her. “I just thought that’s what you meant. I’m still shell-shocked after the last time.”

“Oh. Well, I suppose probably with her upbringing, learning to cook wasn’t really a priority.” Amalie tried to offer some sort of sensible explanation for the state of Cosima’s lack of cooking skill. “I could try making you something if you want? It won’t be anything fancy… we didn’t do fancy things if it was just us, and when it wasn’t we hired someone to do the cooking.”

“Well, I like the idea of you cooking, but that really isn’t what it’s all about, Amalie.” He said with a grin, glancing back at their distant chaperones.

“Oh… then what is it about?” Amalie asked, looking at Paolo with sweet, innocent blue eyes and a wondering expression.

“Well, I Don’t want you to feel so lonely. And I’d love to spend more time with you. I suppose I’m just a bit…hesitant to leave this place.” He answered quite honestly as he turned his gaze to the tall, luscious trees. “The young men here have become my friends, and I’ve learned so much about what it means to be a Terran man. I feel like I’m in the middle of something important and I don’t want to ruin it.”

Amalie listened to what he was saying, but as he finished, she couldn’t hide the frown or the lowering of her eyes. Her shoulders dropped just slightly, but she nevertheless squeezed his arm. “It’s alright. I understand. You should stay if that’s what you feel you need to do.”

Paolo looked at her and his resolve flickered at the sight of her sadness. He was silent for only a few seconds, before he seemed to make a decision.

“You need me, mother needs me…and Giana is still in need of support after what happened with Sacha. I’ll start splitting my time.” He said, and drew a bit closer to her, his eyes drifting to her beautiful, delicate lips. “You don’t need to feel alone. And forget that garbage they're teaching you about keeping your problems to yourself.”

Amalie was bolstered by his decision, but reservation seemed to remain. “I will… try… but they are really quite adamant about that…”

“Then listen and learn. But when it’s just you and me..” he smiled then, handsome in a less awkward way than before. “You can tell me anything.”

Her eyes moved over his maturing face, and she found herself searching for the somewhat awkward boy she had met months ago; unable to find him, she wondered what these recent events would turn him into. Would he become the typical Terran man? He’d been the scholar and politician before, but perhaps he would simply become a warrior.

“Alright.” She agreed with a small smile.

Paolo immediately saw the doubt in her eyes. He was a logical young man, but still very empathic and he noticed how others felt. He showed her a smile, reassuring and kind.

“I’ll show you Rome when I get back, okay? Maybe one of my favorite spots.”

“I’d really like that.” It was obvious she truly meant it, and her smile grew. “Is there anything you’d like to know about what’s been going on at the palace?”

“Since Court has moved back there, I can’t imagine what life is like without constant activity.” He remarked with a raised brow. “I suppose the only thing that comes to mind is I wonder how my sister is holding up. Giana, I mean.”

Amalie noted how he asked about his sister. While she didn’t know the ins and outs, she was aware that Giana and Paolo had a complicated relationship and she often found herself wondering if her own future children would be the same way. “She… has been having a very hard time over the past few months. I think if it wasn’t obvious before, it is very obvious now that she really did love Sacha a lot. She hadn’t really been engaging in any activities at court, and any time she had to, she just looked miserable and really not herself at all. She’s been a bit better this past week though, so maybe she’s starting to come out of it?”

“My government papers barely mention her. It sounds like Lady Mendez and Lord Price have been running the Lords and the Senate. Almost all directives from Internal Security come from the director himself. I imagined she wasn’t doing much of anything.” Paolo said, his brow furrowing as he thought about his sister. What comfort could he provide her at a time like this?

“She’s been working very closely with Lord Price. He’s been a near constant fixture at court for the past couple of months with only the occasional return trip to Mars. He never stays there long though.” Amalie nodded slightly. “So I don’t think she’s been completely hands off… she just hasn’t been in the public eye? But I can’t say for sure, it isn’t my place to know that kind of thing.”

“One day you’ll be Empress, Amalie.” Paolo said with a wistful expression. “Perhaps sooner than either of us expect. Do you suppose it will be your place then?”

“Isn’t that for you to decide?” She asked, and looked at him curiously.

“Yes, but I want to know what you think.” Paolo said easily, taking a step toward her even as they slowly walked. “Should an Empress know what happens in the Empire?”

“I think she should, yes. Historically it has been more beneficial when both Emperor and Empress are informed and work together.” She pointed out quietly.

“I think so too.” Paolo commented, looking at her with gentle eyes, full of boyish love and something else. “But it has happened far too rarely, also. My family has done a relatively good job with it. Still, I can’t help but hope it’s possible for an Imperial family to…like each other?”

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be possible.” Amalie squeezed his arm gently and stepped closer to him to avoid a few loose stones in her path. “I don’t see why it wouldn’t be possible even now for your family. I know things are… strained… but it is very rare that something can’t be repaired with time and effort, don’t you think?”

“And a plan, also.” Paolo added. “But you’re probably an expert on my family at this point. If you and I are going to build a happy family, and I believe we both would like to, what do you think needs to change?”

“Oh I’m not really an expert at all. I just… I know what I’ve observed, but I don’t know that those observations are right.” She looked at him and tilted her head slightly. “What would you like to see change with your family?”

“Dodging the question and pretending to have no opinion, are we?” He asked with a smile. “I remember when my sisters learned that lesson. But we’ve been over that already. Please, Amalie, tell me what you think.”

“No, no. Really, not this time.” She denied it and paused their walk so she could reach out to take both of his hands in her own. “I wasn’t trying to dodge the question, but this is your family Paolo, your relationships, and I’d really just like to know what you would like to see change because it is important to me that you are happy.”

“Well, I think that children need their parents, and having us raised by tutors and governors in different cities was a mistake.” He responded. “My sisters were taught moronic lessons that actually required them to lie to the people who were meant to love and protect them on a regular basis. The Terran Family shouldn’t be split up, and that goes double for the Imperial Family.”

“I agree. I wouldn’t want to send our children away. It is the responsibility of parents to make time for their family after all.” She squeezed his hands again. “But… what about now? What would you want to fix with your family right now?”

Paolo chewed on the question a bit before answering, clearly finding it more difficult to answer than the first one. After all, his family was more of a mess long in-progress and couldn’t turn on a dime.

“For my father to live. Giuseppe is dead, thank the gods. We need my father to live.”

“Okay.” Amalie nodded and gave his hands another encouraging squeeze. “He’s getting the best care, we know that. Is there something else that we could tackle together?”

“I really don’t know.” He said, casting his eyes down for a second. “I can’t think of anything that would actually help.”

“Well… do you like your current family dynamic?” She asked, confident of the answer but wanting to hear him say it. She looked around and found a bench nearby. “Maybe we should go sit down?”

“Well, no, or course not. But..” he said, looking to the bench she was indicating. In silence, he led the way over to it and sat down with her. Their chaperones stopped quite a way back, within eyeshot. “You know how noble families are from experience. We don’t function without leadership. We have structure and roles to play. The thing that’s driving me crazy right now is the disorder of the present situation. My mother leads with her feelings, as does my sister. And my place is less clear than ever. Going between them and trying to make each of them feel better…I know it sounds terrible, but it all seems like a huge distraction with an Empire hanging in the balance. The war, internal security, and many other domestic concerns get buried under…drama.”

Amalie listened to Paolo quietly and attentively, a slight frown settling on her face but she seemed less than inclined to leap to conclusions. “Paolo, the way you say that makes it sound like you think the attack on your father and his current condition as well as what happened to Sacha are just… petty and uninteresting concerns that shouldn’t be affecting your mother and sister the way that they have been.”

“Of course they should.” Paolo said, looking at her with a furrowed brow. “But the crown is heavy, and the one who wears it can’t afford to let their fear…their grief affect what they do. They weren’t groomed to rule; neither of them. And it shows. I know Sacha’s death and my fathers…situation are hurtful to them. They hurt me as well. But ruling an empire isn’t a small thing either. We need my father. And since we can’t have him, we need me.”


“Well, they are still doing what they are supposed to be doing, the government is still functioning, the people are still mostly happy.” Amalie pointed out and looked away. This hadn’t been what she had hoped for as far as an answer, but it was the answer she was receiving. “So what do you want to do about it then?”

“I don’t know.” He said, shaking his head. He noticed that she explained the situation away. She was a girl who lived most of her life in Montana. She hadn’t read the boxes; she hadn’t seen the casualty reports. She didn’t understand what was at stake. In his mind, this constituted the present problem. “What my father wrote, he wrote. But I can’t help but think that, if I could hear his advice, he would be telling me to act.”

Amalie looked at him again, and he could see her mind working through her beautiful eyes. It seemed she had something to say, but instead of saying it, she looked away and simply nodded. “Well, if that’s what you feel you have to do, then you should do that.”

“Should I?” He asked, but put his head in his hands instead of looking at her. “But I’m not sure I’m ready to force the issue. Does that..does that make me weak?”

Every woman in Amalie’s life - really, women in the lives of most other young women - taught them that sometimes the fight simply wasn’t worth it. Maybe here it was; maybe it would be different. She looked at him earnestly then and leaned in a bit closer. There was a strange kind of tension that took over the moment as if there was more being decided in this moment than met the eye. “Do you really want to know what I think?”

He moved his face from his hands and turned to look at her. He seemed confused and saddened by the question, but quickly wiped the expression from his face. Hadn’t he been clear about that already.

“Yes, I do.” He said. “Of course I do.”

Amalie nodded, and then seemed to consider how best to say what she wanted to say. “I think, maybe, you are focused on the wrong kind of leadership. I don’t know if you know this, but my mother started her own business years ago; my father is a lord, but he also runs successful businesses himself. Now, it would have been very easy for him to simply take over and run that for her, but she didn’t want that so he didn’t. Instead, he supported her decision to go forward on her own - he didn’t begrudge her of that choice and remained there for her. Because of that, she felt comfortable seeking guidance from him and listening to him, he empowered her by believing in her, and through his support, he was able to still lead her on the proper paths. What good would forcing this issue bring? Forcing… anything… just breeds resentment.”

She paused then, and her brows lifted slightly. “Do you know the reason your box still remains full is because Giana demanded it and your mother agreed? Several departments and members of the secretariat thought that you should not be bothered with matters of state while you were here. I don’t think you’d find them nearly as resistant to your help and guidance as you think you might.”

Paolo listened and, though he initially found himself quite irritated by what she was saying, he found more and more ways it might have been worth considering. He knew the running of Montana and the running of the Terran Empire were impossible to compare, but he also had been trained in the importance of principles and he understood what she was trying to say.

“You’re right about that. They would welcome my help, I know.” He said, nodding. “But then again that’s the confusion for me. My father never taught me how to rule with my family. He taught me the lessons of one autocrat to a future one. And I’ve read many stories about brothers killing brothers and fathers killing sons, especially when power was shared. I guess I’m a bit…philosophically conflicted.”

He then sat up a bit more.

“Who said I shouldn’t be bothered with boxes?”

“I don’t know who it was, I’m sorry. This was something Giana complained about at a dinner we were having and your mother agreed it was foolish, but also made her stop talking so I don’t know any names.” Amalie frowned. “I could see where you’d be conflicted, that’s understandable, but… well, I’m sure your father taught you with the mind that when it was time for you to rule, you would be at the age of majority and not looking at a regency… I would think that might… change things a bit?”

“Totally.” Paolo said, though his mind was still on the secretary who wanted to cut him out.

Amalie could tell he was a bit distracted, but pressed on gently. “Well, with that in mind, some adjustments would surely need to be made to the approach?”

“Yes, but not my regency. If it was mine rather than my father’s, things would be clearer. But right now, I’m still just the heir. The only rights I have are to succeed to the throne upon the Emperor’s ascension. Beyond that, any guidance they take from me is just a gesture. Still, I showed I could work the system with Axanar. I can work it still. Just…like a politician more than a Crown Prince.”

“Is that… bad?” She asked, obviously uncertain as she searched his face. He seemed to take a very dim view of his sister and mother - perhaps he was more part of the problems with his family than he realized.

“Not necessarily. But it is frowned upon to move the levers of power from the shadows. There’s something…unTerran about it. Something sneaky and dishonorable, if one follows the old ways.” He answered. “It doesn’t matter.”

He knew he should be patient and obedient. But every time he considered it, he could feel Giuseppe’s hands right around his throat and a cold voice which told him that obedient boys can’t hold this throne easily. Amalie really couldn't understand the pressure on him, the weight of the future on his mind, and that sense that perhaps being good and smart would not be enough. She thought it was about his mother, his sister, and him. He didn’t know how to tell her it was about crowns, and legacy, and dead soldiers. The history of the Empire told him, silently, that it was the strong who ruled. His own father, despite all his genius and his promotion of the arts, was a butcher.

“Do you think a good man can rule the Empire?” He asked suddenly, not having considered whether he should ask the question aloud or not.

“I think so, but what defines a good man?” She asked and looked at him curiously.

“A man who tells the truth wisely. A man who stops evil instead of spreading it.” Paolo answered. “A man who is slow to anger and forgiving.”

“Then yes, I do.” She nodded, affirming her position. “Do you think a good man can rule the Empire?”

“I used to.” Paolo said. “When I was surrounded by guards with everything provided for me and everyone around me loving me…I used to.” He looked at her then and frowned. “But then I looked evil right in the eyes as it tried to kill me. And all I could do was hope, pray, and wonder. Now I think a strong man can rule the Empire. And I’m not sure what it looks like to be good and strong at the same time.”

She thought about that for a moment and then suddenly became a bit timid. Looking down to her hands she began to click her thumbnails together. “Do… do you not think your father is strong and good?”

“I think my father hasn't decided which one he wants to be either.” Paolo said with a frown, admitting something he’d never said aloud before. “So maybe he’s both. And maybe he’s neither.”

“Would you be happy if you were a man like your father?” She asked and looked up at him again. She was surprised but elated he had actually answered her question; she hadn’t even been sure it was appropriate for her to ask.

Paolo thought about that for quite a while, not blowing the question of not seeming offended that she had asked it.

“No. I love my father and I have an incredible amount of respect for him. But I don’t want the family he’s built. And I want to learn how to secure my throne without spilling Terran blood. I’m just not sure if I believe it can be done.”

“That I don’t know. Has anyone ever accomplished that?” She asked and frowned. While she was receiving an education in Imperial History now with focus, she certainly didn’t know everything there was to know.

“Not until my family. But since we took over, my grandfather, my great grandfather, my great great grandfather. They all knew peace.” He answered. “But times are changing, and my father wanted more than just one home system. And for that, we require a brute.”

“Do you think we need more than one home system?” She asked, placing a hand on his knee as they sat there.

He looked at her and nodded slowly, his face a frown.

“Yes. We were incredibly vulnerable. And now? It’s too late to put the genie back in the bottle. People believe in the dreams of the Empire again, and nothing but tragedy will stamp out that dream again.”

She nodded and took a moment to think. “Well… does the Emperor have to be the brute, or can he just control the brutes?”

“Well, I'm not sure there’s much of a difference between killing a man and ordering a man killed, Amalie.” Paolo said. “I mean, I think they are morally the same, aren’t they?”

“I don’t know.” She admitted. “But aren’t there times when killing is just or necessary?”

“There are. But necessary is the key word. Some would say that political expediency is a low enough threshold.”

“Well… the ‘some’ don’t really matter, do they? It would be your judgment call.” Amalie pointed out, though she didn’t sound completely confident.

“Yes, that’s true.” Paolo said with a nod. He’d been taught that as well, and even though he had only been Crown Prince for a little while, he knew that his father had been grooming him for something great ever since he was old enough to show his nature.

“Thanks for talking to me. I appreciate your perspective on things. But maybe we should get back before your chaperone dies of a heart attack, hmm?” He offered her a smile, genuine and warm. “That is, unless you’re planning on staying here at China House for a while?”

There was a pause, and for just a brief second Amalie wondered if that might be such a bad thing to happen, but she seemed to realize that was terrible and demurred. “I should probably get back, but I would like to come visit you here more often…” she hesitated and looked at him, “if your mother asks, should I tell her you’re planning to visit the palace?”

“Yes, but…I’ll show up unannounced.” He said with a wince. “It will make things easier. And you can visit me here whenever you want. I may be out sparring, but I’ll spend time with you when I come back in.”

She nodded and moved to stand with him, but paused and squeezed his arm. “Paolo… would you teach our daughters to rule?”

Paolo’s hand found her arm where she held him and he considered the question.

“I would teach all of our children everything I know about ruling.” He said. “It can only make us stronger.”

“Would you be upset with me if we only had girls?” She asked, frowning.

“Science tells us that would clearly be my fault.” He said with a grin. “But I would love my daughters. Our Empire has been ruled by women many times. Mostly one woman and her clones, but..details..”

Amalie smiled then, seeming quite pleased with both of his answers. “Well, I hope we have plenty of both.” She hesitated, and then quickly leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Paolo.”

When her lips made contact with his cheek, he blushed immediately, smiled, and immediately placed his free hand rather conspicuously in front of his pants. Then he moved it again to his side, figuring that only made everything more obvious.

“Oh, I…well.” He said, and then blinked quickly. Finding some nerve, he turned to her again. “It’s the truth. Let’s go.”

Amalie nodded and took his arm, her eyes never leaving his. She was either too innocent to notice or simply respectful enough that she didn’t look down when he moved his hand around. Soon enough they were back with their chaperones, some of who looked mildly annoyed though others wore small smiles that seemed to be more understanding of young affections. She stepped away from Paolo and curtsied to him, then looked into his eyes with another smile. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“Thank you for coming, my Lady.” Paolo answered, returning the smile with a stare. His eyes moved over her as they never had before today, and his smile grew. “I’ll see you soon.”

END
]]> Sat, 28 Dec 2024 23:14:17 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/853 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/853
Mission - Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location - The Pyramid

The ins and outs of life on Mars had been left to his ministers and mother; Khalon was bound to Terra. The work of the Council of Lords had quickly fallen under the influence he wielded from Princess Giana, and he’d grown very good at pulling the right levers. Hosting gatherings, bribing Senators, and making veiled threats had become the work of his daily life. It showed as he grew on political astuteness and knowledge.

The High Lord of Mars, fashionable as always, walked into the outer office of the Princess Regent, his slender, muscled body adorned with a cream suit, brown shoes, and a tie of bronze. He looked like a prince himself.

He approached the desk and simply waited. The staff knew what he was after by now.

The man behind the desk greeted Khalon with a respectful nod and the typical motions began now without words exchanged by anyone. It took about thirty seconds until he looked up at Khalon and nodded again.

“She will see you now, Lord Price.”

Giana was in her office behind her desk reading a document in front of her. She had slowly come around to being more herself - at least physically - over the past few weeks. She didn’t look as hollowed out, and as she had promised CJ she had easily cleaned up and made herself presentable. She was sitting in a modest black pencil dress, her blonde hair pulled back in a neatly braided bun.

When the doors were opened and she saw Khalon stepping through, she lowered the document down to her desk. “Khalon.”

“Your Highness.” He said, his voice friendly and amiable, stepping closer to her. He’d given her the space she’d needed without even a hint of needing to be asked following Sacha’s death. They’d barely spoken on the subject, but he wasn’t suggesting they should. He paused in front of her desk. “You called for me.”

Giana gestured to the seat across from her and sat back in her own chair. Things had been… odd with him for a while, at least in her mind. She’d taken interest in him before Sacha had died and she couldn’t say it had all been professional. He excited her in a way Sacha hadn’t for a long time, and she felt guilty over that especially after his death.

“I’ve been hearing whispers of dissent in the Senate regarding the Romulan issue. Is there any truth to that?”

“Many Senators are concerned that antagonizing the Romulans is the wrong move and could put us in the wrong end of a compact between them and the Alliances.” Khalon said honestly. “Besides asking quite a lot of questions of the government, they haven’t exactly made any moves. I think they’re waiting to see what happens next.”

“We have strong evidence that the Romulans had a direct hand in the death of over five thousand Terran souls. Does that mean nothing to them?” Giana asked with a scoff.

“No.” Khalon answered, seeming unphased by how she summed up the issue. The Senate was full of heroes, and the suggestion they didn’t care about the fallen would be offensive to many. “They’re concerned that more Terrans will die if the situation isn’t handled with care. They’ve had endless debates on the subject full of impressive rhetoric if you’d like to listen to the transcripts.”

“Are they actually worth listening to?” Giana asked skeptically, her manicured brows lifting up slowly.

Khalon smiled, handsome and genuine. “Yes, if you want an exchange of philosophical rhetoric on the values of the Empire. I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t enjoy it sometimes.”

Giana made a slight face at that, then sighed and reached up to rub her forehead. “Fine. If you have a list of the better ones I’ll have my assistance collect them and listen to them; but the notion that we shouldn’t do anything to antagonize the Romulans is moronic. If we allow such a move against the Empire, we appear weak - we are weak.”

The strange thing to Khalon was that her father had reestablished the Senate to bring a sense of continuity and wisdom to the practice of government. But so far, all he’d seen is a kind of gridlock amongst them caused largely by him and the other lords on the council. He knew Antonius had intended to lead the Senate himself, but now he wondered what it’s point was. To debate and never be heard by those who decided over morning coffee?

“If you’d like. Though it doesn’t sound like you’d really enjoy it.” He said, not entirely sure why she was asking. “But my point is there’s nothing to worry about from them for now. Not in that at least.”

“I wouldn’t, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t worth hearing.” Giana replied and looked down at the document in front of her. “Is there anything else you find worth telling me?”

“Besides an ongoing debate over trade regulations or new subject worlds, it’s all pretty routine.” Khalon said, watching her beautiful eyes as she looked up at him.

“Mm… alright.” She looked down again, then licked her lips and took a deep breath. “How… have you been?”

“Busy.” He said, looking down at her and hearing her personal question, the likes of which hadn’t been asked in a month. “Very busy. Hearing the Senate is like playing whack a mole.”

“How has your mother been faring on Mars without you?” Giana followed up and finally brought her eyes up to look at his handsome face.

“She’s been having her way in every place instead of just in the Palace.” He said, grinning. “All you have to do is look at the horrified expressions on the faces of my ministers to see that. She’s happy though. It’s kind of you to ask.”

Finally, Giana cracked a smile. It was small, but it was there. “I’m glad she’s enjoying herself and that things are going well, I’d hate to think I pulled you away from your home and it was floundering without you.”

“When the Empire calls, Price men answer. We always have; we always will.” He said, his conviction obvious and unguarded. He was proud of his family’ legacy of service to Terra. “My mother knows the art of ruling, and she does it with less patience than me, so..shit gets done.”

Giana chuckled very softly at that, short but audible. “She sounds like an imposing woman.”

“She had to be to raise a boy like me.” He said with a grin of his own. “I was wild. I know that’s a surprise to you now..”

“Oh yes, quite a surprise.” She sat back in her chair and continued to simply look at him, her eyes taking in his handsome face and the way he presented himself. Always pristine and stylish. “I know I have met her in passing, but perhaps one of these days I could meet her in a more private setting instead of some grand party where I am shaking hands with half of Terra.”

“You’re not going to hear a protest from her. She’s been asking me to bring you around for weeks.” He said, winking at her charmingly. “Once you’re feeling ready, we can set a date.”

Giana’s smile faded, but it didn’t recede completely. “I don’t know if I will ever really feel ready, Khalon, but I have to… try… at some point. What better way than to meet your mother if she’s been wanting to for so long?”

Khalon listened as she spoke. It was the most human thing she’d said since the tragedy that had rocked her world. He licked his full lips and rounded her desk boldly. Pausing next to her, he daringly grabbed her hand in his.

“You have my support completely. I’m on your side, and if you want to meet my mother, I’ll make that happen for you.” He said, his voice gentle.

“I know you are.” Giana said and looked up to him as he held her hand and after a beat, she turned her chair and stood, their bodies close. “I hope you know how grateful I have been for your help and support these past weeks. I don’t know that I could have done any of this without you.”

“You didn’t have to.” He said, mostly keeping his hands to himself, though his eyes said everything as he looked at her.

“No, you were the one that didn’t have to do anything, but you chose to anyways.” Her thumb shifted slightly over his hand, the sensation of touching someone familiar but somehow distant in a strange way. “How can I repay you?”

Khalon smiled and shook his head.

“What I want I’m not asking for.” He said, his smile infectious and handsome. “How about just a smile from you?”

Giana didn’t give him his smile and instead simply considered him quietly for a moment. She pulled her hand from his, but instead of withdrawing, she shifted forward and wrapped her arms around him, pulling herself into him and giving him a hug.

The hug was sudden, warm, and a surprise for him. His own strong arms wrapped around her and held her tight. He could feel the chaos still battling inside her, and his hands moved to rub her back as he held her. He didn’t say a word.

There was a part of Giana that felt instantly guilty, but to her surprise it wasn’t as large as she thought it was going to be. She was missing human contact, and she received it from so few. She lingered in Khalon’s arms, her body tense at first but she began to relax slowly but surely. She didn’t seem in a rush to part from him; it felt good to be held.

Khalon didn’t rush the process either, holding her for several minutes without wavering or showing any sign at all of disinterest or boredom. He allowed his face to fall in her fragrant blonde hair and closed his eyes.

“It’s going to be okay, you know.” He said in a pleasing, low voice.

The only answer he received was the slight tightening of Giana’s grip and her fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his suit. She wanted to cry, but she settled for taking a slow, deep breath. This of course made her breathe him in as well, and she bit her lower lip slightly, the action hidden by her face being buried into him. Most people could say for certain that their love would have wanted them to move on and be happy, but she realized she actually wasn’t sure if that was what Sacha would want for her or not… but she could choose to think it was.

After another long moment, she finally pulled back from him and reached up to brush a few strands of hair from her face.

“That was nice.” He said with a smile. “You’re a great hugger, you know.

Giana averted her gaze, being made to feel self conscious by his comment though she wasn’t exactly sure why. She only took a beat to steady herself - a sure sign she was finding more normalcy in her life. “Would you… like to have dinner?”

“Now?” He asked, surprised at first, and then nodded. “I’d love to. Let me take you somewhere wonderful for a little while.”

“No.” She cut him off quickly and then raised her hand. “No.” This time, her voice was more gentle and sympathetic. “We’ll have dinner here. I need to be… very careful about going out in public.”

“Oh, right..” he said, pausing as If he simply hadn’t considered those pressures. He smiled then. “Here it is then. Playing it safe. Nothing wrong with that.”

Giana nodded, though this time she did feel instant regret at giving the invitation. She wasn’t about to go back on it, however. “I need to clean up and make myself presentable. When would you like to meet?”

“How about 1900? I should put on an evening suit anyway.” Khalon said, being careful not to say anything to trigger her sensitive conscience about what they were planning. “It’ll be nice to get to talk to you. It’s been quite a while since we really connected on anything but the business of the Council of Lords.”

“Alright, seven it is then.” She agreed and gave him a small smile. “We’ll meet at the same place as last time. I’ll have someone escort you if you don’t remember the way.”

“I remember.” He said with a confident nod. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be there.”

He forewent kissing her hand, knowing that her conscience was bothering her, just as he had since the death of her intended. Instead, he merely turned around smoothly and started for the exit.

END .
]]> Sat, 28 Dec 2024 23:12:47 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/852 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/852
Mission - Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location - Giana's Rio Apartment

It had been a little over a month since news of the apparent betrayal of the Romulans and the death of so many Terran soldiers had reached the palace. It was a true tragedy, of course, so many Terran lives lost, but only one had meant anything to Giana. She had spent the first weeks practically frozen in grief; her mother, forgiving as always, had more or less split what would have been Giana’s duties with Richard unless they absolutely needed Giana’s voice. It hadn’t been often, but it had happened, and the once vibrant princess was a shadow of herself. During those weeks, she had retreated to her Rio apartment to be left alone in the space that had really been hers and hers alone. She’d had guests before, but no one had remained long term with her.

Eventually, she had slowly started to come out of the raw grief, but she was still barely engaged with anything that was going on in the government. She was eating better and seeing after her appearance more; that was all she felt she could manage.

Since the day which had shattered Giana’s world, CJ had used her newfound authority to spring into action, arranging disparate political apparatuses on Terra into a team. Civil servants from many branches of government had been working with a flourish of activity to find the answers to the most burning questions from the tragic event, and the influence of their cooperation could be felt even as far as Romulus itself, where diplomats and assets were associated with each other for the first time. Respectful, as always, she had given the princess her space as much as she could, leaving her interruptions for the parts of the investigation which really mattered. As she arrived at the princess’s apartment in a baby blue dress, one could easily assume this was one of those crucial junctures.

The door was answered by one of Giana’s attendants, a slightly older woman who grimaced immediately when she saw CJ standing there and reflexively turned her head to look back into the apartment. Stepping back, she allowed the Chancellor to enter.

“Let me go and get her. One moment.”

The woman disappeared, and CJ was left standing in the dark, dreary place until the attendant got to the switch and raised the lights. The apartment was clean of course, but the heaviness of grief still lingered in the air and clung to everything like a haze. Eventually the attendant returned and behind her was the meandering Giana. She was dressed in her silk pajamas and her hair was pulled back in an unruly bun; the dark roots of her natural hair color were showing thick at the base of her scalp. Giana had always been thin, but now she was appearing gaunt and the dark circles under her eyes did little to help remedy that appearance.

On seeing CJ waiting, Giana took a deep breath.

“CJ.” She greeted with what sounded like great effort to speak.

CJ didn’t react to Giana’s appearance outwardly, but she found herself dismayed by the sight. She’d left her own Pyramid Guards to mingle with the Imperials, knowing the area was secure, and her body man hadn’t exited the elevator with her.

“Your Highness.” CJ said, looking the younger woman over with an expression that seemed somehow knowing. “Have you eaten supper yet?”

“I’m not hungry. Is there something you need?” Giana asked, her voice quiet and monotone.

“Might I offer you a drink, Chancellor?” The attending woman practically whispered to CJ.

“Wine please…” CJ said, evening Giana still. “For two. Also, cheeseburgers if you can.”

CJ stepped into the apartment more fully, her eyes moving around the room.

“I’d like to ask you a question, ma’am. A personal one. May I?”

Briefly, the servant looked at Giana as if waiting to be told no, but when it didn’t come she hurried away to retrieve what CJ had asked for.

Giana for her part barely reacted to CJ’s order, though it was possible her lips pursed just slightly for the briefest of moments. When CJ posed her question, Giana took another deep breath. “What is it?”

“Do you notice how beautiful your surroundings are anymore, or have you gotten used to vast apartments, couches more expensive than my family home, and the most dazzling skylines?” CJ asked, her tone surprisingly light as she stood there, reserved but positive as she looked out of the vast windows on the other side of the room. It had been an exaggeration, of course, her home was also beautiful. But not royal.

Giana just looked at CJ then, remaining quiet for a long moment and then simply turning away to walk out of the entryway and to the larger seating area. She sat down on the couch and pulled both legs up underneath her, not bothering to sit in the way a princess should. “CJ, I’m tired and really not in the mood for your riddles. Now, is there something you actually need?”

“No riddle, ma’am.” CJ started, looking at Giana. “You’re always asking me how I see the world. I thought I’d ask about your perspective for a change. It’s only fair, right?”

“It’s fair, but why would you care? You know what kind of answer you’d get.” Giana waved a hand, paused, then used that same hand to indicate CJ could sit down.

“I’m not the warmest or friendliest woman on Terra, but I’m fairly certain the foundation of friendships is to ask those kinds of questions and to listen.” CJ said, sitting down in the indicated place just as Giana’s attendant exited with glasses of red wine.

For a moment it seemed like Giana might dismiss the notion, but she paused. The truth of the matter was CJ was probably the closest thing she had to an actual friend and was one of the only people who had consistently been supportive of Giana despite how she was. She licked her lips and sighed out softly. “Of course everything is beautiful around me, CJ, I made sure it was.”

“Mmm, yes.” CJ answered, accepting the wine glass and taking an immediate sip of the fine liquid. “But that wasn’t really my question, ma’am.”

“I’m used to it, I suppose, so I don’t notice it in that way I guess.” Giana shrugged, not touching the wine that had been set down next to her.

“That sounds sad.” CJ said with surprising candidness. She leaned back more comfortably on the couch and watched Giana, falling silent.

Giana lifted her thin shoulders slightly. “I don’t really think about it.”

“I don’t think I’d be able to stop thinking about it, really.” CJ said, her blue eyes locked on Giana’s. “But I suppose that’s what makes us different, right? You were born to a future Emperor and I was born to a future First Minister.”

“Yes, it is.” Giana sighed and put her elbow on the arm of the couch then propped her head up in her hand. “Now you’re Chancellor.”

“Yes, I am.” CJ said, and her voice was as relaxed as it could be. She showed no signs of pride. “And you’re Princess Regent.”

“Yes, I am.” Giana confirmed automatically, closing her eyes as she sat there. CJ was here for a reason, she never came for any sort of social call, but she seemed to want to take her sweet time getting to whatever it was.

“At least in theory.” CJ added, looking away at the wine as the smell of cooking burgers started to fill the room.

“There’s a piece of paper somewhere that even says it.” Giana waved her free hand, disinterested.

“For now.” CJ said, her tone bordering on a warning. “But I’m sure you don’t care about any of that right now. Not with all the grief.”

That did get Giana to open her eyes and she scowled slightly at CJ. Annoyed, she lifted her head and lowered her hand down. “What do you want, CJ?”

“Your help.” CJ answered quickly and honestly. “But your heart isn’t in the work, and I need to be sure I can count on you to take the issue seriously.”

There was nothing in CJ’s tone to suggest she didn’t believe in Giana, still the chosen words were provocative. Unusually provocative for the head of government.

“Have I ever not taken what you bring to me seriously, CJ?” Giana frowned. “What do you need?”

“You’ve never been in such a state, ma’am.” CJ said, looking at the princess with a candid expression. “You aren’t eating, you aren’t dying your hair, you aren’t applying makeup. You’re avoiding conversation with me since the first time we met in your father’s office last year.”

“None of that means I wouldn’t take it seriously, CJ.” Giana scoffed and looked away out of the window to the city. “And if I was avoiding you, I’d have just had you dismissed. You’re one of the only people I see.”

“You’re ready to talk about the issues of the day, but I suspect you won’t want to discuss the one thing that really matters.” CJ said. “Your present situation. Because your future hangs in the balance. The future of your family does.”

“What do you mean?” The younger woman asked, seemingly at least mildly more engaged now.

“I mean your mother and Richard are running things, and I can’t get what we’re after from them without you. I’ve watched them working, and they’ve worked out the regency cozily between them.” CJ leaned forward, her expression serious. “You’re being sidelined in the name of charity. People are starting to pitty you. Is that what you want, ma’am? After all you’ve given…” she stopped herself, refusing to say the final word. “After all that’s happened.”

“Are they doing poorly at running things?” Giana’s brows lifted slightly at the notion.

“No..no, of course not.” CJ answered. “But they both want peace. I’ve had to make some tough decisions in order to follow leads on the Romulan situation and..they wouldn’t approve of some of them, ma’am. Which is, frankly, how this all happened in the first place.”

Giana frowned at the news and looked down to the coffee table between them and the low vase full of flowers sitting there. They needed to be changed, but someone would take care of that. “Peace… there can’t be any peace with animals.”


“My thoughts exactly.” CJ said with a nod. “Their desire for peace weakens our response. Everything I try in the investigation which has just a bit more risk than is comfortable, one of them pulls me back. And after what I did about 45 minutes ago..”

“What did you do?” Giana frowned, actual concern finally appearing on her face for CJ finally. It seemed she could still feel things underneath it all.

CJ sipped the wine deeper, clearing half the glass in one go. She swallowed and allowed silence to fill the space for a while.

“I had the Romulan Ambassador arrested and taken to a black site.” She answered suddenly. “He knows something, ma’am.”

For a long moment, Giana just blinked at CJ. For whatever reason, she hadn’t really expected the woman to have that in her - at least not so overtly. She looked at her own wine glass and finally picked it up, taking a small sip of it. “That… was a choice.”

“It was the right one.” CJ said with conviction. “But they won’t see it that way right away. Once I knew he was hiding something from me, I was sure I couldn’t waste time with additional polite conversations and diplomatic overtures.”

“I trust your judgment, CJ.” Giana assured her with a slight shake of her head. “Don’t worry about that. What is it you need from me, then? Protection?”

“Not exactly. I need your voice amongst the Regents. Otherwise, when they find out, they’ll chastise me and order his immediate release. And, perhaps worse, an apology to the Romulan Republic.”

“Mm… yes I suppose that would be all you need considering how they deal with such things.” Giana pursed her lips slightly. “I’ll do what I can for you. I suppose they thought I would stay away forever…”

“I’m not certain, ma’am. But every political instinct in my body tells me you have to show your face in public.” CJ counseled. “I’d imagine your mother wants what’s best for you. But some might argue that what’s best for you is to step back..take a break.”

“I’m not sure my mother has ever really known what’s best for me, but she’s tried.” Giana shrugged slightly. “Ramsay will be the thorn in my side. My mother won’t push back hard if I simply tell her I want to do this.”

Richard had been CJ‘s boss for the better part of the past five years, and the idea she didn’t know his view would be ludicrous. He was a family friend, very close to her father, the Emperor, after all. She was a bit surprised Giana seemed to have such a skeptical view of the man.

Two servants brought two trays with high-quality burgers and French fries and placed them on the table in front of them.

“All you have to do is eat, get yourself fixed up. And show up to work, ma’am.” CJ said. “If you do that and show the world you haven’t given up, then things will be fine.”

“I think it’s a bit of a stretch to think that will fix everything, but I can certainly play the part.” She replied, eyeing the burger that was set down with mild disgust. “Don’t worry, CJ, I’ll come help you.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” CJ said with a sigh as she picked up the burger with some difficulty, gathering its different parts into her hands and bringing them to her mouth. It was a somewhat messy choice for a mean and far from the neat, pristine things Giana would typically eat. She chewed for several moments before speaking again. “My network has discovered a connection between a particular Klingon General and the Ambassador. They’re very good friends and communicate regularly. We haven’t been able to access their communications, but I’d like to order a search of their archive.”

Giana watched how awkward CJ was with the burger and found herself wondering if the woman even liked the things. She pulled her legs back up underneath her while she listened, and then sighed softly. “How was this missed… it seems rather glaring.”

Immediately, she waved a hand. “No matter, do your search.”

“If you say so.” CJ said. “But you understand, of course, that if we find out the Romulans weren’t involved, the alliance we forged with them will certainly end once we shoot our way into their Embassy?”

“You’re better than that, CJ. Have you spoken to Nolan about any of this?” Giana asked, her brows lifting.

“I speak to Nolan and many others every day. We have no intention of being caught, but they aren’t stupid. There’s nothing we can do to assuage their suspicion in the long run. I just want to make sure you’re prepared for the potential fallout. I don’t believe the other Regents are.” CJ answered. She worked for Imperial Intelligence near the start of her career, so she knew the territory and, particularly, the Romulans. “We have spies and double agents, and so do they. No matter how covert the operation, we can’t be sure it will be totally hidden from the Tal Shiar.”

“Then how confident are you and Nolan in your suspicions? Enough to risk a war with the Romulans as well?” Giana asked and took another drink of her wine

“We’re very confident, ma’am.” CJ said, and if anyone doubted her sincerity, they might remember that her entire reputation was staked on this operation. “All we need to do is apply pressure and I believe we’ll have all the proof we need about who killed Sacha and the other soldiers under his command.”

When CJ said Sacha’s name, Giana’s face flinched and she gripped her wine glass a bit tighter. It still hurt, and she wondered if it would ever stop hurting. For just a moment she averted her gaze and tried to collect herself to remain in the moment with CJ instead of letting her mind drift to her lost love. After a few long moments, she finally gave a simple nod.

“Then work with Nolan and see it done then.”

CJ had noticed the flinching, of course. She could see Giana was still raw; unready, in reality, to take her place again. If it was possible, she would have left her where she was with the time she needed to go on healing. But the throne was a captivating thing, and when a man left it, other men would try to sit there and stay forever. This service to Giana was also a disservice.

She stood from the couch then, seeming prepared to leave.

“Then, with your permission, I’ll set things in motion now. The Romulans are already looking for the Ambassador here in Terra. It won’t be long until they press their inquiries to the Council of Regents.”

Giana didn’t answer CJ, instead she looked aimlessly at nothing, her distress once more completely apparent on her face. “I dream of him every night… what was, what might have been. I don’t know how to make it stop, but I don’t know if I want it to stop. If he’s not in my dreams then he’s really gone…”

CJ looked down at the woman, pondering if she should sit back down or not. She frowned, understanding some of the challenges of Giana’s situation.

“That’s a very common feeling when someone loses someone so special to them. They say that pain never goes away; it just gets easier to manage.” She said, “Your father is attacked, and then Sacha. It hasn’t been an easy several months.”

“I don’t know what to do.” She admitted softly and clasped her hands together. “I… he promised to come back but… but I don’t know that anything would have been different in the end. Does that mean something? Should it mean something? I think he gave up on us… but maybe him coming back meant he hadn’t…”

“I don’t know the details, like I said.” CJ said, and sat down again, this time much closer. “Why did Sacha leave in the first place? Why really?”

“He was upset I wasn’t willing to give everything up to ride off into the sunset with him. He wanted a simple life with me, and I couldn’t give that to him. I never could.” Giana sighed and looked out of the window again. “He said he wanted time apart for us both to think but…”

“What do you mean by ‘everything’, ma’am?” CJ asked. “He wanted you to give up the Regency Council…your titles?”

“Yes.” Giana confirmed with a slight nod. “Like I said… he wanted the simple life.”

“He picked a princess and wanted her to stop being. Princess..” CJ said quietly. Internally, she had serious doubts about that. It really didn’t make any sense, but it was what Giana believed or wanted to believe. “That’s a very unfair thing to ask for. One you obviously couldn’t give.”

Giana shrugged slightly. It wasn’t apparent if she picked up on CJ’s skepticism or not, but she remembered their conversation before he left quite vividly. “He wanted me to step down and marry him, to put everything aside to just be with him. It was unfair, and I had never hidden from him that I wouldn’t do that. I begged him to be sure he could be happy. He lied to me.”

CJ’s skepticism wasn’t diminishing, but she masked it as she did almost everything else. Now wasn’t the time, and it might not ever be.

“I see.” She said, “I’m sorry, ma’am. This is all my fault.”

“What do you mean?” Giana asked with a slight frown.

“Well this all goes back to our first conversation. You told me what you wanted and I thought I was giving it to you.” CJ said. “A man worthy of your love…but I suppose I misunderstood his feelings as total dedication to you.”

“What do you mean?” Giana looked at CJ fully then, trying to figure out what she was talking about. “Giving it to me?”

“Well Sacha was banned from assignment on Terra to keep him away from you, ma’am. Someone had to call in some favors.” CJ said, raising her eyebrows. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew already.”

“You… you were the one who brought him back to me?” She half questioned, half stated, her blue eyes widening slightly.

“I thought it was what you wanted.” CJ said, watching Giana and looking as uncertain as she reasonably could. “You were looking for a husband and my research quickly led me to him. I got him a desk job and sent him a ticket to that luncheon here in Rio during the summer court. You two did the rest.”

For once, Giana wasn’t entirely sure what to say. CJ hadn’t been wrong at the time; Sacha returning to Giana’s life had been - she thought - had been perfect timing, a boon from the universe during a trying time. Now she understood it had simply been another orchestrated aspect as most things in her life were and likely would continue to be if she didn’t take a more direct hand in them. Of course, the entire plan had ended in tragedy and there was a part of her that wanted to blame CJ, but there wouldn’t be any use in doing so. She had just been trying to give Giana something good instead of forcing her off onto some boring old lord as most princesses were.

Slowly, she looked away again, and when she spoke it was with a measured voice. “I’ll return to court tomorrow. Do what you need to do; make sure you work closely with Nolan.”

“The Director will be pleased.” CJ said, and then stood. “Your Highness..”

“Chancellor.” Giana nodded, dismissing CJ without another word.

END
]]> Sat, 28 Dec 2024 23:07:14 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/849 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/849
Mission - Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location - Terra

Perhaps it was just poetic coincidence that it was raining on the daySacha’s body was brought back to Terra, or maybe the gods themselves where weeping. Either way, Terra itself seemed to be joining Giana in her grief. It wasn’t just Sacha She wept for, but all Her fallen sons and daughters.

It had been six days since the news had reached them of the Klingon ambush on the marine regiment in the neutral zone. Not a single Romulan lost their life, but hundreds of marines had been slaughtered in the air raids. Those who didn’t die were killed with the bat’leth. On a peaceful landing pad surrounded by wet green grass, they waited for the transports to arrive.

The Regents were present, as was the Crown Prince and the Lavigne’s. The Chancellor was there as well, and the Emperor’s Own Marine Band played tunes in the distance. Several lines of marines stood at attention behind them, waiting for the arrival of their brothers.

Giana stood quietly between Ramsay and Cosima dressed in an exquisite modest black dress. While it would have been more usual to flank Cosima, the decision had been made in the name of public image for Giana to take the center as she had been so directly affected by the incident - it would poll well with the people. It also had the benefit of keeping her away from Sacha’s mother and sister. To say Giana was angry was an understatement, but she had been like a cat without fang or claw; her anger was useless. She had requested one thing be done in her grief, and everyone around her had either failed her or ignored her - and she wasn’t sure which was worse. All she wanted to do right now was go back inside.

“I can’t believe this.” said a quiet, accented voice next to them. Genevieve Lavigne was wearing a black dress which stopped just below the knee and suited her slender figure well. The darkens veil over her face partially hid her a own and her ruby red lips. “What are we going to do now?”

“Now isn’t the time for that, Genevieve.” Jolene said in an almost scolding tone. “We will speak privately. For now, we wait and behave respectfully.”

Next to them, the Empress frowned sadly. This war of her husbands had brought so much death, and Richard had hardly made any real progress on it in the time he’d commanded the military. Many more sims would die. Her black gloved hand slipped into Giana’s as the click of a camera could be heard.

“I’m so sorry, Giana.” She said quietly.

Giana’s blue eyes had shifted down the line to glance at Genevieve and Jolene. Anything she might have said was cut off by Cosima’s hand and softly spoken words. She didn’t return the gesture, and merely faced forward still. “You all got your wish, at least.”

Cosima eyed her daughter, her frown deepening.

“What does that mean?”

“None of you ever liked him, you always thought he was a bad match. You wanted me to be happy so you sort of accepted it. The only one who ended up liking him was Paolo after the whole thing with Giuseppe.” Giana pointed out coolly.

“Do you then think it possible, Giana, that we wanted him to die?” Cosima asked with emphasis bordering on incredulity.

“I think you wanted him to go away, so I don’t really expect you to be grief stricken over this.” Giana frowned. “But thank you for your sympathy.”

“You’re grieving, so I won’t begrudge you your moment of cruel implications.” Cosima said, turning her face forward and allowing her hand to fall to her side. Her daughter could be quite mean. She used to be so sweet when she was small.

Giana didn’t give anything else to her mother and instead faced forward. Finally, the transport broke through the clouds, and she took a deep breath. “Forgive me for being unkind, I wasn’t prepared for my grief to be turned into a spectacle since I asked it to not be.”

Cosima nodded in the direction of the gathered families, most of whom were crying.

“Dear, you aren’t the only grieving woman here. You may have the power and position for your own unloading, but these men were heroes of the Empire. They must be treated as such. Publically.” Cosima declared roundly, though she wasn’t overbearing. It wasn’t the first time they’d had the discussion. “Think of how important it is for them to have you share this moment.”

“He was a hero.” Jolene said, turning to Cosima, her eyes welling with tears.. “And now he’s gone.”

Giana had to very pointedly ignore Jolene; the woman was an impressive actor and always had been. Instead, she turned her head to look directly at her mother. “The only thing I wanted was a moment of privacy to look at him and be with him before we did this. It wouldn’t have taken anything away from the rest of these people grieving, and maybe they even would have appreciated the same. But no, you couldn’t even give me that after everything. You call me cruel. I learned it from you, mother.”

She turned her head back to face forward, her hands balling into fists for a moment but she forced them to relax again. ”You know what’s different here? Those people there, they really are grieving. You aren’t.”

Down the row, standing on the other side of Richard, Paolo stuck his head far enough forward to look at the women in his family. He had grown several inches since they last appears in public together, and his scowl indicated exactly how he felt about the interaction. He cleared his throat loudly.

“Perhaps we can all wait until later to say awful things to each other we can’t take back.” He suggested, his tone unusually insistent. Amalie stood at his other side, and that seemed to affect the way he thought of the situation

“Your sister is upset. She’s lost someone very important to her.” Cosima said, lifting her head as if rising above the cutting words from her eldest daughter.

“Yes, we can all see that.” Paolo said, finding himself frustrated more by his mother’s response than anything Giana had said. “I suppose that’s the excuse.”

“Please don’t fight.” Amalie said softly next to Paolo. They had barely seen each other over the past months, and she hated that this was the first time she had seen him in such a long time. It made her sad he didn’t seem to understand.

“One I at least have the decency to pray you never have reason to use yourself, little brother.” Giana’s voice was cold, but it seemed her mother making the excuse for her had at least stymied the bitter flow of words for the moment.

“I appreciate your prayers. Thank you.” Paolo said, meeting Richard’s gaze for an instant. It seems the older man and friend of the family had no intention of getting involved. “Can we fight later? This is the worst time I can imagine.”

As he spoke, the large, bulky transport made its final approach, hissing as it started to descend and, at last, touched down on the pristinely clean ground.

Amalie let out a sigh, but otherwise said nothing more.

As the transport touched down, Giana turned her head not toward her mother, but to Jolene instead. “Don’t make a spectacle of yourself, Jolene. I fully know your feelings about your son, don’t make things worse by speaking lies over his corpse, hm? The gods will frown on that.”

Paolo looked to Amalie as if to indicate the ridiculous situation they found themselves in. He decided to say nothing else. No one could stop his sister when she was behaving this way.

Jolene, for her part, gasped at the accusation and looked at Giana as if she had just slapped her.

“Your Highness, your rank forbids me from responding to you as I would.” Jolene said, drawing nearer to the Empress. “This is shameful.”

“The only shameful thing is how you treated him when he was alive. Be a good mother for once to your son, and treat him better in death.” Giana replied and glanced to her own mother. Cosima would have had to have been completely blind and dumb to miss how Jolene had treated Sacha, but perhaps given she never cared for the man, she wouldn’t care.

Cosima said nothing more out of an uncertainty for how to get her daughter to stop more than anything else. She wondered at her husband’s wisdom in making them share the command of the Empire for the first time in months. She wished he was here.

Jolene, for her part, said nothing, but Genevieve mumbled something under her breath.

Giana didn’t hear exactly what Genevieve had said, but she could imagine it well enough. Her warning given to Jolene, she faced forward again and watched as the large doors of the transport opened.

The doors to the transport opened and it was clear the vehicle was used for transporting caskets as its main purpose. Five paths of light illuminated the isles between the rows of marines. In rows of their own, the caskets started following the paths, floating slowly, each crowned with a service picture and a name.

“Sacha will be last as the unit commander.” Paolo said loud enough for the people in their row to hear him.

“How many were lost?” Amalie asked him quietly. She wasn’t informed of such details, she had only been told Sacha had fallen with his men and that she should be present at the occasion as future Empress.

“4,792.” Paolo said with a scowl that suggested more than just sadness. He read his boxes, starting with the most interesting topics including military maneuvers. He knew the Romulans' loyalty was shaky. How had this fell through the cracks? “4,792 Terran patriots snuffed out.”

“That’s… that’s terrible.” Amalie frowned, even her voice trembling slightly.

“Just the cost of our failure.” Paolo said, his voice somewhat hollow. He felt low and powerless. He was the heir to the throne, but he was powerless to prevent this. As the caskets slid by them slowly, he watched the names and faces as the band played heroic fanfares as if their sacrifice had been somehow glorious.

Amalie didn’t quite understand how it was their failure, but she trusted Paolo’s assessment of what was playing out before them. The sounds of mourning only intensified as families caught the sight of the portrait of their loved ones atop of their caskets. She shifted a bit closer to Paolo, not outright touching him even though she wanted to reach for his hand.

Paolo leaned over toward her, his hand brushing against hers until their pinkies were interlocked. This wouldn’t be the last time they would see something like this together.

The sad display continued for a long while, and when the single casket that rounded out the end of the procession finally began to descend the ramp, Giana drew in a sharp breath and balled her hands into fists. She couldn’t even cry for him. She hated her mother for doing this to her, for not even giving her a moment with the man she had dreamed of making a life with to say goodbye.

“I’m never going to forgive you for this, but I think you knew that.”

“We can just add it to the list.” Cosima said, eying Giana. Her daughter was too old to behave this way, and she’d been as understanding as she could stomach. “I’ve arranged for his body to be transported in a separate car. You can ride with him if you’d like.”

“Thank you, that’s very thoughtful.” She replied flatly.

Cosima frowned at her daughter, then turned to lead the procession out. At once she realized they had agreed Giana would do so, and so she waited so the younger woman could get in front of her.

Giana cast a look at her mother from the corner of her eye and took the lead of the procession out. She cast one more look at Sacha’s casket, wanting nothing more than to go with him since that was one thing she could at least do, but it would take some time before she was able to be in the car with him. Resentfully, she turned and began the sad, lonely walk ahead.

END
]]> Sat, 28 Dec 2024 22:56:13 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/848 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/848
Mission - Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location - Royal Apartments

The Imperial Palace in Rome was unusually quiet. Sure there were servants and regular visitors to the imperial family, but otherwise the halls were emptied of the droves of nobles, who typically crowded them. Events, balls, luncheons, and galas kept a certain young class of nobles almost constantly pleasant under normal circumstances, but the last several months had brought that activity to a screeching halt.

Nadiya Singh had served as Court Chamberlain since Antonius had become Emperor, and she wielded the resources and influence of the Royal Household with efficient toughness. In tough times, however, she noticed that difficult news typically fell to her to give. It wasn’t a role she relished, but it had to be done. She’d managed to survive thus far with her career intact. She didn’t expect that to change anytime soon.

The Indian woman walked quickly down the cavernous huge corridor outside Princess Giana’s apartments, her royal blue pants suit neutralized by her cream colored flats. She approached the guards standing watch outside.

“I must see the Princess Regent with urgent need.” She said, as if that alone should open the door. Generally, anywhere in the household, it would, but she didn’t know what orders they had been given.

“One moment.” One of the guards replied and opened the door to step inside and close it behind himself. It was a moment later that the door opened again, and this time the guard held it and gestured for Nadiya to enter.

Giana was sitting at a small table near the window with a glass of milk and a plate with one and a half chocolate chip cookies sitting on it. She was dressed down, wearing a blouse over a pair of high quality black silk pants - she was done for the evening obviously, but quickly wiped off her fingers and stood when Nadiya walked in. “Good evening, Nadiya.”

“Please, Your Highness. There’s no need to stand.” Nadiya said. She was one who had served their family for decades, and she was in Cosima’s Private Office when Giana was born. She had been very young, but still, she had been there. “I won’t be long, ma’am.”

Over the past weeks, Giana had been settling in rather well into her new role. With the support of Lord Price by her side and the opposition of the errant lords and senators handily cowed, things had proceeded quite well. The celebration over their victory at Axanar had been beloved by the people, and Terra seemed to flourish with the burst of renewed morale. Things in her personal life hadn’t been so clean. She and Sacha had drifted apart once more and he had made the decision to leave his new job and the spotlight to return to military service. Giana had of course been very upset, but he had gone anyway. That anger had festered for nearly a solid two weeks before she had finally relented and reached out to him. She had apologized, asked him to come home, and he had agreed to do so after this last mission was finished.

Giana gave a slight wave of her hand. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m afraid I have bad news. It will be breaking on INN in just a few moments, but Regent Ramsay wanted to make sure you heard it first.” Nadiya said with a frown. She was tough, but even her constitution had limits.

Giana frowned and her shoulders lowered with weight. She let out a sigh, anticipating some scandal to be laid at her feet but she couldn’t imagine what. “What is it?”

“153 Marine Regiment has been stationed near the Romulan Neutral Zone. They landed on a planet in a remote system scheduled for war games and mutual training with the Romulan Army. Before the Romulans arrived, a Klingon fleet warped in and laid waste to their orbiting ship. They then bombarded the planet. Whom they didn’t kill, they took as slaves.” Nadiya paused then, shaking her head in a sign of mutual grief. “Colonel Lavigne died defending his men. His body was found among the remains. I’m so sorry.”

The princess stood there and listened, but her expression didn’t change. After a moment, she crossed her arms and turned her head away as if she were mildly irritated. “No, I just talked to him yesterday. He’s coming back after the war games.”

“This happened just a few hours ago, ma’am.” Nadiya responded in a gentle, accented voice.. “I’m afraid it’s true.”

“That can’t be true. He said he was coming back.” Giana replied adamantly. She walked over to her desk and pulled up the console, tapping her fingers irritatedly against the controls so she could reach out and make contact with Sacha’s ship again. “I’ll show you.”

“The Marine Ship Jagger was in orbit around the neutral planet. It was totally destroyed, ma’am. I promise I am telling you the truth.” Nadiya pleaded as she watched the call Giana started to fail and return to the Imperial seal.

Giana tried a few more times with each attempt becoming more desperate, then suddenly she stopped. Her fingers fell softly on the console, but she finally turned her head to look at Nadiya with wide eyes and a frown on her face. “Wh-what?”

“He’s gone, ma’am.” She said, stopping short of touching Giana. “He’s gone.”

“But…” Giana protested weakly and began looking around, seeing Sacha’s things dotted around the room. “But he can’t be gone…”

Nadiya seemed to be at a loss for words. She wasn’t particularly good at this part, but it fell to her so often because of her role in assisting the Emperor with managing his family. Her lips parted somewhat helplessly, but before she could respond, the door to the room opened again and a familiar face walked in.

Camilla Zajak wore a double-breasted black blazer with embossed white buttons and edges, a black skirt, a white heeled shoes. Her face was a mask of inscrutable urgency as she walked up to the pair. Taking note of Giana, she understood that she was too late.

“Madam Chancellor.” Nadiya said, uncertain of why the head of government had barged in. Perhaps it was some scheduled meeting that just happened to be incredibly ill-timed.

“Madam Chamberlain. I sent word that I should be the one to tell the Princess Regent as soon as I received the news. Why was that request not honored?” CJ asked, her head lifting slightly in challenge.

“Because it wasn’t received. Besides, CJ, you don’t exactly rule the roost in the Imperial Household. I do.” Nadiya shot back, her tone professional, but with a definite pointed edge.

“I know, Nadiya.” CJ said, her tone softening as much as it could. “The Princess Regent and I have a good rapport and I wanted to be here. Do you mind?”

“Not at all. I’ve already done what I came down to do.” Nadiya said with a formal, reserved shrug. She turned her eyes back to Giana then. “I’m very sorry for your terrible loss, ma’am. If I have your leave, I’ll leave you and the Chancellor to talk.”

Giana was vaguely aware the two women were bickering over something, but the words sounded like static. Her blue eyes continued to dance around the room, trying to will Sacha to just appear, but she became aware the two women had stopped talking and were staring at her waiting on her to answer some question she had missed.

“Does my mother know?”

Nadiya bowed her head slightly, turning her eyes to CJ in a clear indication she hoped the other woman would answer first. Though CJ kept her eyes on Giana, she made no move to open her mouth. When Nadiya recognized she was in the hot seat, she spoke.

“Your mother is in the Vulcan sector on a brief tour. I got the information directly from the office of Dr. Ramsay.”

“Right…” She had known that of course, Cosima had been gone for days and Giana had even seen her mother off. Her head continued to move back and forth, but it was so fluid it almost gave the impression it wasn’t natural. Finally, it stopped and she looked at the two older women again. “Sacha’s dead?”

The women looked at her, both understanding exactly where she was in her mind. Shock, plain and simple, had overtaken the Princess Regent.

“I’ll leave her to you, CJ.” Nadiya said, figuring whatever rapport they had would be better suited to the situation in the long run. She turned and walked out of the door, leaving CJ and Giana alone.

“He is, ma’am.” CJ said, standing before Giana. “Unless the reports lie, and there’s no reason they would.”

Giana just stood there blinking, and then turned around to walk to the couch where she sat down mechanically. She didn’t look at CJ, merely stared out to the wall opposite of her. “Why?”

“The report says that the Klingons somehow discovered their position. But I have some suspicions about that.” CJ said, giving the answers straight. “They knew exactly when and exactly where, which means they were told. And we know the information didn’t come from our side.”

“So… someone betrayed us?” Giana asked, her neutral mask slowly lowering into a frown.

“I suspect so. I have the Foreign Affairs Department making inquiries, but it likely won’t turn up anything. You’ll remember our allies, the Romulans, have been less than helpful in the war.”

“Yes… I remember.” She confirmed. At least she was pretty sure she remembered that. “Well… we’ll have to do something about that, won’t we?”

“Yes, but.. ma’am, your mother is in charge of that situation. And, if not her, it’s a military affair. Both she and Ramsay have wanted proof before action is taken.” CJ said, taking a step closer. “Do you think you should grieve and leave it to them?”

“Wanted… proof?” Giana frowned deeper. “They waited on this?”

CJ sighed, licking her lips. “This government has three heads, ma’am. In depth conspiracies tend to fall through the cracks. The documents from the Defense Department were in your boxes, but your mother didn’t want to antagonize a friend without an obvious and confórmenle reason. Some people might call that wise. But this tragedy certainly shows one of the potential consequences of the way things are right now.”

CJ sat down next to Giana then and sighed. She sat up straight, cold and poised as usual.

“Secretary Malik wants to know if you would like to inform his family.”

“I read the documents… I thought they’d handle it.” Giana’s expression scrunched a bit more. She was three steps behind CJ, obviously struggling with every part of the information she was being presented with. “They were supposed to handle it. I would have handled it. Why didn’t they?”

“Some people don’t see conspiracies behind every corner. Just like you, they are bombarded with information which is confirmed and actionable on a daily basis. I think these suspicions were not as high a priority.” CJ said. “Rumor and suspicion is everywhere in our work, and much of it is nonsense. But yes, ma’am. I believe you would have done something about it. As would your father.”

“No, I don’t want to tell them. They’ll probably be happy.” The shock was starting to give way to anger. “What… what happens now? Is… is there a body…? Can I see…. Can I see him?”

“This is only a few hours ago, really. The protocol is that they gather the bodies of the fallen and bring them back draped in a flag. Sacha was a hero, and he would be honored as one.” CJ answered, making no attempt to comfort Giana at the moment.

“I want him brought here. I want to see him.” Giana’s voice was taking on a sharper edge, it wasn’t a request, it was an order. There was a flash of anger on her face, but it immediately dissolved into sadness. “I need to see him…”

“I’ll take care of it, ma’am.” CJ said, her cool eyes settling on Giana without any pressure. She knew the moment had nothing to do with her and had no need to make it about her either. “As for solving the mystery of how this all happened, I believe the Secretariat, the Security Apparatus, and the Military must work together. Unfortunately, things are divided in such a way that it becomes..difficult to do so. I have a proposal for you.”

She lifted a glass tablet from her side, logged in, and handed it to Giana.

“It’s an Imperial Decree establishing an inter-agency commission to investigate the incident and report back. If it’s signed by all the regents, I’ll have enough authority to get this done.”

At first, Giana didn’t take it, and when she finally did it looked like it took significant effort for her to even move her arm. She gripped the tablet, but immediately dropped it to her knee while looking at it. She knew she should read it, but she couldn’t even fathom doing so right now. “I can’t.”

“I can’t make you, ma’am. And I know you’re hurting. But this happened because no one was monitoring the situation. All it requires is your signature, but if you need time to process your feelings, I can start with Ramsay and your mother instead.”

Giana frowned and then looked down at the device in her lap again. The words seemed like a jumble, which wasn’t surprising considering her brain was just giving her static and there felt like there was a hundred pound weight at the base of her skull and in her chest. CJ had been a friend to her, and while Giana was well aware that CJ had her own motives, she had never done anything that didn’t somehow benefit Giana - yet. Surely CJ wouldn’t betray her in this moment of all moments. She took a deep breath and touched her thumb to the scanner on the tablet which glowed red and then shifted to blue, her DNA confirmed, her signature appeared on the document.

CJ accepted the document from Giana without a word for a while. She waited. When nothing came, she leaned a bit closer.

“It’s not your fault, ma’am.”

“Isn’t it?” Giana returned in a strangely conversational way. “He left his job and went back to the military because I made him unhappy.”

“Did you?” CJ asked, placing her hands on her knees and pulling them together in an unusually girlish move. “How do you know that’s why?”

“He said he needed to be away from me a while. That he didn’t know who I was anymore and he missed his Gigi, not this person who replaced her.” Giana replied, looking out into the room. “We talked last night… I said I was sorry, he promised to come home. I think at least he knew I loved him before he…”

Her voice caught and then she drifted off for a moment. “It’s time for you to go now, CJ.”

“Yes, ma’am.” CJ said without any resistance, though she only stood and lingered for a second. She looked down at Giana. “Are you different because you have power, ma’am?”

Immediately, Giana looked distressed. The last thing she needed right now was CJs cryptic messages about how she lived her life. Tears welled in her eyes, and she swallowed hard. “No.”

“I didn’t think so either.” CJ said simply. “I’ll be in my office at the Pyramid.”

With that, she turned and started for the door.

For a long while, Giana simply sat very still in the silence of her room, letting numbness consume her while tears began to roll down her cheeks. Eventually she stood and left the room.

It had been quite a while since she had been here, and the looks she was getting only served to reinforce that fact - though perhaps it was because she was still crying and still in her silk lounge pants. That didn’t really occur to her until she had almost reached her destination. The double doors parted to the spacious room.

“Get out.” She ordered immediately with a shaking voice. The attending looked at her, confused, and one of the doctors opened their mouth to make an obvious protest, but it was cut off by Giana.

“GET OUT!” She shrieked in a visceral way that made even one of the imperial guards jump. Deciding that this was not their issue to deal with, the medical staff immediately fled from the room, leaving just Giana, the guards, and the still form of the Emperor in his bed. Again, there were a few beats of silence and then suddenly, she began sobbing. Her body shaking, she half walked, half stumbled to her father’s bedside and collapsed half into the chair, half onto the man’s chest.

“Papa… Papa…” She cried into his gown. “Sacha… my Sacha…”

Her fingers curled around the fabric he was wearing and she cried inconsolably. Eventually she even reached out and pulled his hand up to place it on the top of her head, pretending that he was giving her comfort, pretending he was telling her he would make them pay. Maybe he wouldn’t have done any of those things, but she simply couldn’t face that possibility. She needed him, and this was all she had.

Why had the gods cursed her so?

END
]]> Sat, 28 Dec 2024 22:44:26 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/851 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/851
Mission - Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location - Royal Apartments

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” Giana demanded angrily as she followed Sacha into the main bedroom.

Things had been rocky between them for the better part of a few weeks now, their constant cycle of fighting and making up had been more focused on the fights than break ups. Giana had been focusing on work, and it seemed the shiny sensation of being publicly popular and his new job was wearing off for Sacha. He was unhappy, and he had reverted back to wanting to shirk responsibilities and expecting her to do the same. The problem was she couldn’t, not in this position.

“Talk to me gods dammit.”

Sacha said nothing still. They had done plenty of talking and none of it seemed to make a difference. He was starting to realize he was asking her for something she couldn’t give right now. Perhaps she just couldn’t give it anymore at all.

“I quit my job this morning.” was all he offered. He looked at her, his typical loving gaze replaced by something colder and more resigned.

“Quit your job? Why? You really wanted that job.” Giana blinked and then moved over to him, placing her hands on his to stop him from gathering his clothes. “Sacha what the hell is going on?”

Her voice and expression both reflected the distress she was feeling. They’d fought before, but this seemed different.

“Yeah, well I wanted a lot of shit, and I can’t actually have any of it.” Sacha said, slipping his hand out from under hers. He sighed, his handsome jaw set, and looked at her. “I still love you, Giana, but I need some time and space to think about things. I figured going back to my marine career would be a good way to do that.”

“Think about things? What things?” Giana frowned deeper, immediately frustrated. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? Are you serious?” He asked, furrowing his brow, a sign of irritation. “We’ve been arguing nonstop for weeks when weren’t both at work. I’m fucking aimless here; I gave up everything I knew to be with you and now I barely see you and you refuse to set a date for the wedding.”

He shook his head. “If you can’t make us a priority right now, then I need to get back to what I know until you can. That’s all this is.”

“Aimless? What the hell do you mean? You got a great job that you were really excited about and you’ve been loving being the center of attention in the media. What has changed?” Giana demanded, scowling at him now. “And I keep telling you it isn’t appropriate for me to set a date for the wedding until my father has recovered.”

“I don’t want to be the center of attention, Gigi.” He said, sounding tired and a bit exasperated. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you. But I’m starting to wonder if I won’t be able to have you no matter what I do. Maybe your father will be in a coma for a decade, or maybe you’ll get so buried under your work that you end up having even less time for us than now.” He shook his head. “I need to do what I’m good at and maybe just give you some time.”

“But I don’t need time, I want you.” Giana protested, her scowl softening to a frown. “What do you want me to do, just put aside all my duties so we can just goof off like we used to?”

Sacha looked at her, his body language signaling a distance that had never been there before. Gigi had been the object of his desire and love since the first time he’d laid eyes on her as a pre-teen. He was perhaps the only man in the Empire who loved her best when she had no power.

“I didn’t ask to be with the Princess Regent.” He said with a shrug. “It’s never been like this before.”

Giana’s shoulders dropped. “And I didn’t exactly expect my father to be attacked and to be Princess Regent, Sacha, but there was always a chance. Hells, there’s a chance you could be Emperor-Consort. Did you just not consider that in all of this? Or did you really think I would step down in the end and give my position to my sister so we could ride off to the sunset on your motorcycle?”

Honestly, he had hoped that. He always had. He frowned, looking tired. That wasn’t how Giana thought and, very likely, it never would be.

“You’re right, it was a silly thing to expect.” He said, actually looking defeated.

Giana looked at him then, seeming to realize for the first time that underneath all the joking and blasé attitude when it came to her position, he really had expected it. He didn’t seem to understand she wasn’t that sixteen year old girl caught up in fantasies anymore, but he certainly seemed to be stuck in the past. “I don’t really know what to say except I don’t want you to go.”

“Say you’ll step down and marry me.” He said, his eyes narrowing as if he were trying to stop any sudden displays of emotion. “The Empress and Ramsay can handle all this drama. Let them, and be my Gigi.”

“I’m not going to step down, Sacha. That goes against everything I have ever been taught and believe in. I serve the Empire. Do you? Or do you just serve yourself with such demands?” She crossed her arms and looked away from him. “I’m not going to stop you.”

Sacha’s jaw set as he looked at her. “I’ve served the Empire all my life. When your father forced me into the marines for the crime of loving you, I served the Empire. Besides you, it’s all I know.” He said, then shook his head. “But, I guess I don’t know you as well as I thought. So I’ll serve again.”

“Sacha…” Giana frowned, looking distressed again and despite what she had just said, she stepped closer to him and reached out to him. “We can work this out. Don’t go.”

“You don’t want to work it out though really, do you?” He asked, his tone knowing. “You want me to grow up. The message is loud and clear, mon couer. But I as I have always been, and don’t think I can. But I can fight and serve.”

“Of course I think you can, but I think you don’t want to and I really don’t know why.” She spread her arms slightly, her palms toward him. “What’s so bad about it?”

“Everything, dammit. I want a simple life with you, and I’m certain I want it far away from the regency. It’s not juvenile to want a normal life, Giana.” He said, crossing his strong arms. “I don’t want to work 90 hour weeks to make money when we have tons of money. And you’ve made it very clear you aren’t willing to even consider giving it up. So..what else is there to talk about?”

“It is juvenile when you go after a princess, gods dammit!” Giana finally snapped. “I have always been a princess, Sacha. That has always come with a future of responsibility and power. You went to work because you wanted a purpose, so don’t fucking blame me for that. Don’t blame me that you can’t figure out your life without resenting me for who and what I am. Of course I’m not willing to give it up, that’s why before we even got engaged I practically begged you to really consider if you would be happy. You said you only needed me, well apparently that was a lie, wasn’t it? Our life was never going to be simple or normal or peasant and you KNEW that, so why the fuck did you agree? Did you think you’d be able to change my mind?”

At first, Sacha seemed angry as he listened to her snap, but as he continued to listen, his grimace melted into a frown. By the time she was done, he just looked very sad.

“Like you said. Immature Sacha, thinking Love could conquer all…this.” He said, gesturing to the luxurious room around them. His hand caught the strap of the bag on the table in front of him and he pulled it over his shoulder. “I deploy tomorrow morning. They’re making me a Colonel…I’ll always love you and..I’m sorry I couldn’t be the man you needed.”

He started toward the exit with some speed, like a man pulling off a bandaid before it could hurt any more than it already did.

Giana moved after him quickly, coming up behind him and throwing her arms around his shoulders. She pressed her body to his, and her forehead pressed hard to the back of his neck. “Please don’t go, Sacha… I want to be with you.. I want to make a family with you and have your children. We can work this out…”

Sacha felt her arms around him and detected the potent desperation in her shaking warm embrace. He closed his eyes to steel himself, and then kept moving, pulling her along with him as he moved. It wasn’t until he reached the door and grabbed the handle that he reached for her hand and tried her grip.

“No, we obviously can’t.”

Giana’s grip only tightened when she was pulled, and she held onto him even as his hand moved over her own. “Of course we can. I don’t know how, but if we really want to we can.”

“No, we can’t.” He said, his voice just as sad as before. His hand clasped around hers then and started to part her fingers from his flesh with difficulty. He was clearly still trying to be gentle. He still loved her. “Maybe after some time to think, we’ll both know what we really want.” He said. “Let me go, Gigi.”

She held him for a long moment, but as he began to pry her hands away - even being gentle - she finally surrendered. She released him and stepped back, looking at him with an absolutely crushed expression. “Don’t leave me…”

“I’ll see you soon..we can talk over subspace if you want.” He said, looking at her as he was halfway out the door, though something in his face wasn’t convincing, like he had already given up.

“Okay…” She replied softly, defeated and looking away. “Goodbye, Sacha. I love you.”

He looked at her once again, silent, and then turned away, moving quickly down the hall and away from her.

END
]]> Sat, 28 Dec 2024 22:36:08 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/845 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/845
Mission - Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location - Mars

The events of the evening before had been incredibly consequential, and Khalon Price found himself more deeply affected than he had anticipated. It still felt like hot blood was running down his hands as before, even though they had been washed clean. It was never easy to shed Terran blood.

The High Lord of Mars stood on a vast balcony overlooking the expansive Mars City. Above them, a barely visible dome arch across the entire city, one of hundreds which made vast portions of the small world breathable. He wore a rather standard suit for him, gray with a red tie and a two-tone shirt. Behind him, servants, courtiers, and visitors mingled about in the busy hallway, it’s ornate decorations complimenting the haze of red light which was always present during the day. He sighed and placed his hands on the railing, wondering what move would be made next in this dangerous game.

The background noise of people milling about faded suddenly, though the ambient noise of the city below remained enough that it might not have been noticed. A few seconds passed, and then a familiar feminine voice sounded behind Khalon.

“It is quite a view from here. I’m told your father would come out here often to look at the city.” Giana approached Khalon from the doors of the balcony where her guards now stood and foot traffic in the hallway had severely diminished as the guards now policed who was moving through and when. She was dressed casually in a simple dark blue pencil dress accented with gold jewelry, though nothing overly ostentatious as her showing the previous evening.

“How did you sleep?”

Khalon looked over to the new arrival, a tingle drawing up his spine at the sound of her voice. His dark eyes settled on hers, a slight smile appearing on his handsome face.

“It wasn’t my best night of sleep.” He admitted quietly, though his tone wasn’t hesitant. “How did you sleep, Your Highness?”

“As well as I do any night, I suppose.” Giana replied, though her tone indicated that it was never “well” by normal standards. She closed the distance between them, her sparkling blue eyes searching his handsome face.

“I will understand if you want no more part in this, Khalon. You’ve done a great service to the Empire already, and that will be honored, but you do not have to continue on this path.”

“I pledged my life to the Empire long ago…and to you.” He said, his eyes drifting to her lips for an instant before he smiled and shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere. It’s time to rebuild the Empire’s politics and set things right again.”

Giana smiled, the expression genuine and even seeming a bit relieved. “As long as you are sure.”

She took a step closer, invading his personal space while holding his gaze.

“Don’t I sound sure?” He said, his smile fading and his eyes growing more intense and interested. Her proximities prompted him to inch toward her as well. “Be careful, Your Highness. If you get too close, you just might get bitten.”

“Are you threatening a regent of the Empire?” Giana smirked, not closing the distance more but still looking at him with that same intensity. “You should know better, Lord Price.”

“I know only what I see in front of me. Beauty makes me forget all else.” He responded, his voice low and deepening. “So, if I threaten unwisely, you might just consider me a man enraptured.”

“Simply beauty makes you forget all things?” Giana challenged mildly, her perfectly shaped brows lifting slightly. “Is that all?”

“Beauty…power…, and incredibly kissable lips, ma’am.” He said, looking at her, a dare in his eyes.

“Well… I’ll have to keep that in mind then.” The smirk remained but she finally disengaged from him and moved toward the railing, though didn’t get too close to it. “We need to discuss mother and daughter Lavigne.”

“Yes, we do.” He said, turning to face the city he’d grown up in and now ruled over in his own right. He licked his large lips and let a moment of silence pass between them. Then, finally, he spoke again. “Have you made up your mind about them?”

“Jolene needs to return to Terra and follow through on her promised obligations alongside my uncle and to receive the honors she was promised for her assistance in exposing Montreve. Genevieve, however, does not need to return to Terra for the time being.” She looked over her shoulder toward Khalon. “I thought perhaps she should be hosted by a family here, if you have one you trust to do the job. If not, I have some contacts on Luna.”

“What’s your purpose for keeping her away? Security? Leverage?” He asked, still facing the city. He didn’t seem stressed or confused by her words, and responded in a calm probe for more information.

“Both, truthfully.” Giana admitted without hesitation. “Jolene despises me and always has just like she does with her own son, but she loves her daughter - maybe even more than she loves herself. I am hoping that love will overcome her hatred and she will fall in line.”

“If I’m honest, I don’t really see what use she is to you. She’s a liability with no benefit.” He said quite candidly, his voice still calm and confident. “Why bother to isolate her and control her instead of cutting her loose and appointing someone more loyal in her place?”

“At this point I’d have to kill her if I was going to do that, I’m afraid. If I take away everything from her, she will simply speak of what happened tonight and while many wouldn’t listen, enough would to make things difficult.” Giana reasoned, but didn’t seem closed off to what he was saying. “She is also my fiance’s mother.”

“Right. Of course she is.” He said, grinning handsomely and finally turning to her. His eyes settled on her pretty face. “Everything for the family, I suppose. I’ll find a place for her here. If you’d like, I can even convince her mother that a marriage is possible. It is what she wants, after all.”

Giana turned her head and pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing just slightly at the comment. “She is a rather beautiful girl… will that be a problem for someone so easily blinded by beauty?”

“Oh, I know someone far more captivating than her.” He said, leaning in just a fraction closer, his voice low and playful. “Genevieve Lavigne looks positively dull next to her.” He said, reaching his hand over and resting it on the railing right next to hers. “I’ll take care of it. Beauty can be a double edged sword like anything else.”

Giana glanced down at his hand near her own and then up as he leaned closer. She stopped herself from licking her lips, but she couldn’t ignore the slight jump of her heart as he drew closer. It hadn’t been the first time she had felt this, and for just a passing instant she considered again how things may have been had he ever made his desires known to her even several months before.

“As long as you’re sure. I do trust my other options as well.”

“I’m sure.” He said, wondering why she didn’t really seem to believe him. He’d kept her sister well in hand for months and she was the daughter of the Emperor. He could handle Genevieve Lavigne with both hands tied behind his back. He kept the question off of his face, and instead licked his full lips. “I’ll send someone to their room to give her an offer she can’t refuse.”

“Good.” Giana nodded, seeming to accept what he said this time. Her eyes moved up to Khalon again and there was a moment of hesitation, then she spoke again. “I hope she won’t have you tied down here though. I would miss seeing you at court.”

“I’d miss seeing you.” He said, looking down from her face rather boldly, the pinky of his hand finally finding hers. “I won’t be gone too much. I’ve got an important project on Terra at the moment. I’m planning to really sink deep into it in the next few weeks. It’s important to stay focused.”

Giana didn’t move her hand, but she didn’t give any acknowledgment of the gesture outside of a quick glance down to their hands. “What project is that, exactly?”

“That would be telling.” He said, then leaned down as if he had a secret for her. His voice was tempting and conspiratorial. “But you know I thrive on the unexpected..and sometimes the best treasures are hidden in the most interesting places.”

Giana reached up with her free hand and smacked his chest with a smile on his face. “Don’t be coy. Tell me what you’re planning.”

“You already know what I’m planning, Your Highness. You’ve known since I walked through your office doors a few days ago.” He said with a wink. It was utterly charming and confident, and he stood up taller. “Is there any other way I can be of service to you?”

For a moment Giana genuinely looked confused as to what he was referring to, but after a couple beats it suddenly clicked and she slid back from him a few inches. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested - the problem was she was too interested. She wasn’t sure if her resolve could reasonably hold, but she also didn’t want to send Khalon away as he had proven to be a powerful ally to her… and he was making her feel things that Sacha had stopped making her feel over the past weeks.

“No. Nothing right now.”

“Then I wish you a pleasant departure.” He said, grabbing her hand gently and bending over to meet her dainty fingers with his lips. He stood again and looked at her confidently. “Your Highness.”

Giana watched him with great interest as he bent to kiss her fingers. He had a way about him that Giana simply couldn’t deny as much as she might have wanted to. The sensation of his kiss lingered on her skin and she felt her mind drifting back to the kiss they had shared the night before. Before she allowed herself to consider it too deeply, she cleared her throat.

“Thank you, Khalon. I will see you soon.” With that, she turned to leave and make her way to her transport that would take her home.

END
]]> Sat, 28 Dec 2024 22:23:57 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/841 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/841
Mission - Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location - Mars

The letters of invitation had been sent out and the Council of Lords had all confirmed their intention to attend a dinner meeting hosted at Lord Price’s palace on Mars. He and Giana had both agreed, eventually, that her hosting the event would arouse suspicion that she might plan to deal with political descent the same way her father had: with blood.

The murder of the most prominent Blues on the Night of the Crimson Knives still lingered in the minds of all lords as a reminder of what the Emperor can do if he has a will to turn for the typical Orsini diplomatic approach to a more historical one. In the end, Terrans followed the strong.

The deep red walls of the dinning hall were gilded and decorated immaculately. Golden statues of former High Lords of Mars back to the man who started their dynasty were tastefully placed at intervals throughout the room. The places at the table were set for nine, and Lord Price himself was mastering every single detail. The servants were on loan today…from the Imperial Guard.

“Look here.” He said to one of the rather strong women, pointing at the bowl she was holding with his keen aesthetic eyes. “That bowl needs to be polished.”

“Yes, my Lord.” The woman said, and retreated with the bowl in hand.

The doors opening wasn’t an uncommon happening given all of the activity, so no one really paid attention as they opened again and Giana stepped through. She was still “dressed down” having not gone to change into her outfit for the dinner, but her dressed down was still quite dressed up for a commoner. She wore a dark blue dress that hit just above her knee, an asymmetric neckline, and a thick belt around her middle with a gold clasp. It was tailored to her body perfectly and at a glance it just looked expensive.

“You’ll have to tell me what trick you used to get rid of my sister.” She said as she approached Khalon. The expectation of having to deal with Elana even for passing niceties given everything else going on had certainly soured Giana’s mood, so when she had arrived to find her wilting sister absent, she was quite pleased.

Kalon smiled at that, his dark eyes finding hers as she approached him. He had spared no expense in preparing for this meeting, and had consulted her at every stage she seemed to be genuinely interested. He was skilled at knowing what others wanted, and he felt he had a good gauge on what Giana had intended for the gathering.

“If you actually care,” he said, his handsome smile continuing as he spoke quietly, “I’ll tell you.”

“Well, if I wasn’t interested, I wouldn’t have asked.” Giana replied, stopping near him - perhaps a bit too near to be appropriate but she didn’t seem to notice. Or perhaps she didn’t care.

She hadn’t really asked, and he was sure she knew that. She chose her words very carefully; she was far smarter than others gave her credit for. He pursed his lips and came toward her even more. It was certainly noticeable when their unique, expensive scents kissed the small amount of space between them.

“Princess Elana was honored to accept a special guest-of-honor invitation to a Young Author’s Convention in Berlin.” he said, but his eyes communicated that the entire thing had been his doing. “I was sure both of you might enjoy this arrangement more than the alternative.”

“Young authors?” Giana quirked a brow. “Has she taken to writing books for her poor unfortunate orphans now?”

“She’s written a series of short stories about a pre-teen detective.” He said smoothly. “I was hoping the children could give her some pointers.”

Giana rolled her eyes but the smile remained as she shook her head. “Well, you’re very clever aren’t you. That was definitely an unexpected surprise to arrive to I must admit.”

“I am, when it suits me.” he said, his eyes remaining on hers boldly. “And..there are few lengths I wouldn’t go through to see you smile, Your Highness.”

With a wink, he stepped away from her. It was certainly a break of custom, but his hand caught the arm of a passing guard in servants clothes.

“Has the chef sent word?” he asked, leaning on the softer refined skills of court rather than those he needed when he had been in the military.

“As far as I’ve heard, everything is going perfectly to plan, my Lord.” the man replied with obvious deference.

Satisfied for now, Khalon returned to Giana. This time, his smile was gone, replaced with an easy face with serious eyes.

“How are you feeling about our arrangements, ma’am?”

Giana took a beat to look around and inspected the room with her beautiful blue eyes. She knew he wasn’t just asking about the physical arrangement of the room and table and his plan for the meal, but at least those things she could give voice to publicly. “I’m impressed,” she said in a way that it was hard to tell if she actually was or not, “it seems you’ve thought of every detail. Everyone is scheduled to arrive soon, correct? Is the seating still as we discussed?”

“Exactly as we discussed,” he said calmly. “As are the menu and the servants.”

As the last servant in the room exited, they were left alone. He drew nearer, his hand deftly falling on her elbow. He looked at her intensely, his handsome face seeming almost concerned underneath his presented calm.

“Nothing’s set in stone yet. You can always change your mind. Though I really hope you don’t.”

“No, I’m not going to change my mind.” She assured him and licked her lips slightly at the feeling of his touch. She found his simple confidence in himself to be extremely attractive on its own, and the fact he was physically attractive only made it worse.

“Are you?”

He smiled again, his expression slightly restrained at first by propriety and then by mystery.

“No, ma’am. Once I set my mind on something I want, I don’t stop until I get it.”

“Is that so?” Giana smiled, drawing closer to him without really thinking about it and looking up into his dark eyes. “I hope not.”

“A real Terran man is hungry, ma’am.” he said, drawing closer still, but more intentionally than her. His lips drifted close to hers, and though he didn’t move to bring them together, the excitement of the closeness could be felt as a surge through their bodies. “I’m not going anywhere until the job is done.”

“Will you go somewhere after, then?” She asked, not pulling away and instead allowing herself to feel the intensity of the moment. It was something she hadn’t really felt in a very long time.

He was silent for a while, his hand moving up her arms slowly, and stopping high enough that his fingers moved against the side of her chest when she closed her arm.

“I’ll go to bed, You’re Highness.” he said, his eyes locked on hers. “What about you?”

“Mm…” She lowered her arm just slightly, but not enough that he was actually touching her chest; he could certainly feel the warmth of her though. “Perhaps I might need to find more jobs for you… to keep you nearby.”

He lifted his head, his eyes drifting to her lovely hair. As his gaze moved down again, he seemed to take in every part of her face, admiring her quite directly. He landed on her eyes again, and he spoke with calm promise.

“I’m at your service, ma’am.”

“I was hoping you would say that.” She smiled, leaning in closer and tempting a kiss, but pulled back completely instead. “I’ll need to go and get dressed now.”

“Is that my first assignment?” he asked, raising his eyebrows and smiling. He let her go when she moved back, everything about his body language making it clear she was the one who left.

“Your assignment would most certainly not be to dress me, Lord Price.” She replied as she moved away, the intensity in her eyes speaking instead to the very opposite task indeed.

Khalon watched her move away, his eyes falling on parts of her body a lord certainly shouldn’t look at. Once she was out of the room again, he secured arrangements for a few more minutes and then left for his own private apartments to get dressed for the evening.

–

A half hour later, Khalon returned in a crisp Tuxedo with black pants, a white bowtie, and a crisp, wealthy-looking stone colored vest and jacket. A pattern continued between them that looked hand stitched. As the host of this soiree, it was his job to greet people, to make them comfortable, and generally to make sure everything went to plan. Over the past few months, Khalon had been doing quite alot of entertaining, so he and his staff had gotten used to it. These servants, however, were not trained in a special etiquette school, but in the military war colleges. He had done all he could to make them look more servant than soldier, but his keen eye still saw the differences plain as day. Hopefully their political rivals weren’t so sharp of eye or instinct.

“The Right Honorable Feng Hongui, Lord Mayor of Hong Kong.” cried a somewhat portly man across from him. The man served as the head of Khalon’s household, and had done so for his father as well before his death. Khalon turned to look at their first arrival, standing up tall as befit his station.

Through the doors walked the tall frame of Feng Honghui dressed in expected immaculate attire. He was a man thriving in his mid-forties and known for his large family and his good looks. He wore a navy mandarin suit with a black mandarin shirt underneath. On the suit jacket was a traditional cloud pattern embroidered in black, lighter navy, darker navy, and dispersed throughout were flecks of gold. The buttons themselves were gold and stamped with Chinese characters and the look was completed with jade dragon heads as cufflinks and a pin in the collar of the jacket. The look was finished with polished black shoes and a stylish haircut. He didn’t seem bothered he was the first to arrive, and approached Khalon with an easy stride.

“Lord Feng. Welcome to Mars.” Khalon said, offering a smile and extending his hand for a shake. “Always good to see a reliable friend.”

“Lord Price.” Honghui returned the man’s smile and gripped his hand in a firm, strong shake. “I was surprised to hear you wanted to host this particular gathering; you’ve yet to host something like this since the passing of your good father.”

“I wanted to learn to be a good guest first.” Khalon said politely. “I was inspired by your feast. Almost as inspired as I was by your family. I didn’t make the menu this evening, but if I had, I would have made sure to have my chef try his hand at some of the choicest selections from your table.”

“I have to give the credit to my wife where it’s due. She oversees the menu and entertainment at our feasts.” He paused, and his smile quirked into a smirk. “Oh and I have been instructed by my daughter Meihui to say hello.”

The girl was only seventeen, but she’d been quite smitten with Khalon’s presence at their recently hosted feast.

Khalon had managed to become the most eligible bachelor in the Empire in short order, and he was made very aware of that fact almost every time he interacted with anyone, lord or lady alike. They all had some sister, daughter, or even themselves to offer. Khalon smiled in a way that seemed totally genuine.

“Pretty Meihui. I remember her. She told me about her paintings at the feast. Tell her to paint me something and I’ll hang it up in the palace.”

Behind Lord Feng, two women in dresses approached. Khalon took the cue.

“Let’s speak more later, my Lord.”

Honghui nodded and parted with a chuckle, giving the energy of a man who was amused by his daughter’s crush more than anything and not so much that he was trying to push the girl toward Khalon.

“The Right Honorable Jolene Lavigne, Lady Mayor of Paris.” Announced his head of household. The middle-aged but timelessly radiant Lady Lavigne approached with her equally lovely daughter at her side. Khalon offered a smile, but it wavered when he saw the younger woman with her.

“My Lady. Good to see you.” He stated. “I don’t mean to be rude, but the invitation was-“

“Lord Price, you look magnificent in that suit.” Lady Lavigne said, her hand moving to the fine material and probing slightly. “You remember my daughter, don’t you?”

“Genevieve Lavigne.” He said, taking the younger woman’s hand and kissing it slowly, keeping his eyes on her. She seemed genuinely pleased at the gal entry of his attention. “I could never forget eyes like yours.”

“Don’t worry, she’s not here to stay. She only wanted to say hello to you before the meal.” Jolene said, speaking for her daughter.

“Of course. Hello, Genevieve. Perhaps we can speak more later?” He asked, though he doubted she would be in the mood after what he had planned.

“I would love it.” She responded, her genuine cold-as-I’ve demeanor melted in front of the dreamy man. She departed as her mother entered the dinning room and the next lord approached.

“The Right Honorable Bernard Cochrane, Lord of America.”

Events of this caliber were quite new to Bernard Cochrane. Not very long ago at all, he was simply the Lord Mayor of Bozeman, Montana and though it was a large and thriving city given its history, it was certainly a pale comparison to being Lord of America a significant increase in prestige on its own, but it was enhanced by the fact he was also the father of the future empress apparent. He wore a sharp dark crimson suit with a white shirt and black tie. He hoped he looked the part, as he was certainly still in the process of feeling wholly comfortable with it.

“Lord Cochrane, welcome to Mars.” Khalon said, extending his hand with a smile. The man before him was an example of the power that came with the right marriages in the Empire. Still, the man didn’t yet know what to do with it. It was a good thing he had picked the right side, however.

“Thank you, Lord Price. It’s good to be here.” Bernard nodded and grasped Khalon’s hand with a strong handshake then immediately looked around the room. “Your palace is impressive.”

“My mother wouldn’t have it any other way, my Lord. Thank you.” He said with a chuckle. “Is this your first time here or are you a return traveler?”

“Oh no. To be perfectly honest, I rarely had reason to travel outside of America more than a handful of times a year.” Bernard replied with probably too much of said honesty. “That… has changed quite drastically as of late.”

“Lord of America, member of the Council of Lords, and future father of the Terran Empress. It would have to, my Lord.” Khalon said. “You should bring your beautiful family out here some time soon. I can show you around the red planet and you can stretch your space legs a bit.”

“I’ll consider that.” He paused and leaned in just slightly. “At the very least I don’t have any eligible daughters to foist at you. You poor man; has it been insufferable?”

“I’ll never complain about being wanted. But, between you and me, I look forward to the company of men with sons.” Khalon said with a charming smile.

“I’m sure you do.” Bernard gave a good natured chuckle. He gave every indication of being a good, honorable man with little ambition but to live a good, memorable life and to serve the Empire. He touched Khalon’s upper arm in sympathy and then moved past him to join the others.

The next to arrive was tall and beautiful with smooth, silky dark brown skin. Her eyes were a radiant hazel, and she wore a dress and a head wrap, both with a red and pink African pattern.

“The Right Honorable Isadora Montreve, Lady of the African Dominion.”

“Lady Isadora, Welcome to Mars.” Khalon said, taking her offered hand and kissing it slowly. They shared a smile together as she watched the movement of his full lips down to her hand.

“I have been, my Lord.” She said with a warm, slightly raspy voice. “Your father and I were close friends. We used to chart the middle course together.”

“I remember that. My father always had the best interests of the Empire at heart. And he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind.” Khalon said honestly. The fact his mind always seemed to be made in line with the majority wasn’t lost in him, but he didn’t mention it.

“My daughter has a poster of you above her bed. Do you know that?” Isadora asked, her beautiful face turning into a lively smile. “She thinks you will be her husband, and begs me to tell you so.”

“I didn’t know they made posters of me.” He commented, his eyebrows raising.

“You would be surprised what the kids find on the web these days. Such things are very easy.” Montreve said. She seemed overtly friendly, though the imperious lift of her head was still there.

After a few more moments of chat, the woman moved on and Khalon turned to the next arrival. She was shapely and wore a dress that showed off every asset she had, as tastefully as possible.

“The Right Honorable Isabel Souisa Méndez, Lady Governor of the Terran Sector, Speaker of the Council of Lords.”

Isabel approached in a black dress with a plunging neckline and elegant, tasteful gold jewelry. The former Lady of Mexico, she won an incredible promotion for herself and her family through steady, unwavering, unquestioning loyalty to the Emperor. She smiled beautifully, Khalon greeted her warmly, and they spoke at a greater length than most before her. Technically, she was the group’s leader. But as it was, she was little more than a figurehead. The real power was in votes on the Senate floor, and those were dominated by Montreve.

After Lord Governor Mendez moved on, he turned to the next arrival. Khalon smiled at the young man.

“His Serenity, Count Raoul Hale, Lord of Brazil.”

Though the youngest member of the Council of Lords and one of the youngest lords of the Empire period, Raoul walked into the room with the seeming confidence of a man ten years his senior; whether he actually felt the confidence he projected was unclear, which only spoke to how adjusted he was to the life he was living. While his sister had been groomed to be a weapon, he had been groomed to be a lord. He too wore a tuxedo, but instead of the traditional black and white, his was purple and black. He in his own right was one of the most eligible bachelors next to Khalon, though thankfully he had been getting a bit of a pass given the High Lord of Mars should have been married and settled with seventeen children already according to some gossipy ladies.

He was tall and broad and had a naturally imposing presence to him, but it all lightened when he flashed a charming, perfect smile and reached out to take the hand extended to him.

“Lord Price.” He greeted first.

“Lord Hale. Welcome to Mars.” Khalon said, shaking the hand firmly. “We’ve got quite the meal laid out for us, and I’m excited to show you my home.”

“I’m eager to see it.” Raoul said, seeming honest about it too. He lowered his hand and took up an easy stance that still projected confidence, but also that he felt he had very little to prove. “I’ve never been to Mars. I was considering perhaps staying a few days to see the sights. Any suggestions?”

“Good thinking. Mars City is a must; it was the first settlement every started on the planet and it’s been our largest city ever since there were any others. Olympus Mons is also the largest volcano in the salad system, so that’s definitely worth a visit if you haven’t seen it.” Khalon leaned in, his smile growing more intimate. “But if you want a good time, Valles Marineris has the most beautiful women Mars has ever produced.”

Raoul’s brows lifted with interest when Khalon mentioned the women and then he chuckled. “Well then, I’ll have to make sure I visit to admire the views.”

“I’m sure the commoners there would talk about you to no end. They have a magazine on mars dedicated to attractive lords and you’ve featured before, word says.” Khalon said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Let me know if you want me to show you around.”

“Could be fun.” Raoul gave an easy smile. “Looking forward to the evening.”

Not wanting to monopolize the other man’s time, Raoul stepped away with a parting nod of his head and continued toward the group already amassed.

“His Highness, Prince Navi Sharma, Lord of India.”

With a short, heavy stride, Navi Sharma walked through the doors. He was not a particularly tall man standing at 5’10”, but like a small dog might, he carried himself with an arrogance that he really had no business possessing when push came to shove as he wasn’t particularly handsome and only passingly engaging. He wore a vibrant blue sherwani overtop cream colored churidar and a darker blue kurta. The sherwani was made of brocade fabric, signifying the man’s propensity for the opulent and sometimes gaudy. His feet were covered by mojaris, though he had forgone his usual pagdi. He made his way toward Khalon, his heavily bearded face really only leaving his tired eyes visible.

“Welcome to Mars, Your Highness.” Khalon said with a grin, extending his hand as he had for all the others. This man, the brother-in-law to the Emperor, had an appearance that always made the younger man laugh. He was comical, and took himself seriously enough that his quirks could never be forgiven.

“Yes, thank you.” Sharma sighed out heavily and took Khalon’s hand with a weak, uninterested grasp. “I do hope this won’t run too late. I have important business to attend to.”

“Something more important than the Council of Lords, Prince Navi?” Ransom asked, looking surprised. “Whatever it is, it has to be interesting.”

“Yes.” Navi replied, offered nothing else on the subject, then seemed to remember something. “Ah, yes. My wife wanted me to inform you she will be extending an invitation for you to share lunch with her and our daughter Avani.”

“The Princess and the Grand Duchess want to speak with me? What’s the special occasion?” Khalon asked, not really managing to seem surprised.

“No occasion. She wants to present our daughter to you and entice you to take her to wife.” The man sounded completely uninterested in the topic past having given his approval for the match.

He had seen Avani. Good blood and a pretty face, but not the royal he wanted.

“What a surprise.” He said, giving a winning smile and nothing else. “Shall I tell the Princess Regent we need to hurry our meal along so you can get back to your more important appointment?”

“No, no. I wouldn’t dream of hurrying the Princess Regent.” The man said dryly. He didn’t seem to have any sort of ill will against Giana, but instead displayed much the same apathy toward her as he did his daughter.

“Very well, I’ll keep it between us for now.” Khalon said. Before the man could say anything else, Khalon’s eye caught Princess Giana’s approach and he was immediately transfixed. It was a different the Prince never existed, his eyes were so transfixed of her. As she approached, several men from his palace guard formed up on either side of the red carpet and raised swords in the air. Their motions were uniform and crisp.

“Her Imperial Highness, Princess Giana Orsini, Princess Regent, Princess Royal, and Lady of the Northern Dominion.” His man called out.

Flanked by her own guards, Giana walked with the grace and poise one would fully expect from the Princess Royal of the Empire. She had certainly dressed to make a statement. The red off the shoulder gown she wore hugged her beautiful figure like a glove; she certainly had that very desirable model’s body which meant she didn’t necessarily have overly pronounced curves, but what she did have was put on full display and enhanced by the ruching that ran down the middle of the dress. It was the jewelry that was truly eye catching though - a large necklace that framed her neck and drew the eye with its large shining rubies and diamonds set in gold coupled with matching earrings and diadem that sat on her head framed by her perfectly groomed hair that was pulled back in a braided bun with a few curled strands left to elegantly frame her face. They were part of the crown jewel collection; obviously she was intending on making a profound statement tonight.

Giana had the full attention of all the Lords in the room, and each of them, with the exception of the apathetic Prince Navi, raised their eyebrows and opened their mouths. Even Genevieve Lavigne looked intimidated and impressed. Khalon’s eyes smoldered like fire, and something about the stance and expression of the Lord of Mars told Giana he was undressing her with his eyes as she approached him. He licked his lips, and when she approached, he bowed low before her, catching her extended hand in his like it was made of glass. He kissed her fingertips gently, then the middle of her fingers, and then the back of her hand. On the final kiss, his eyes met hers.

“Your Highness, welcome to Mars.” He said, and stood up straight, his hand remaining around hers. “You look astounding this evening.”

“Thank you, Lord Price.” Giana’s voice radiated her dignity and power and her eyes held the same. Her hand remained in his, and her gaze lingered on him for a few long beats before it lifted to scan the rest of the assembled lords. She was happy to see the point had been made with most; she wasn’t worried about her uncle by marriage, his apathy knew no bounds.

“You’re kind to host the evening.”

“Serving you…and the Empire, are the greatest pleasures I’ve found since I replaced my late father.” he said, his eyes full of meaning. He knew they were being watched, and by her fiance’s mother of all people, but he was nothing if not daring. If she didn’t like it, she would let him know, and it wasn’t as if he were caressing her or making overtures. “The Council of Lords has important work, but it isn’t often we come together simply to socialize and relate to one another. I believe we have an opportunity to come together…find a compromise on recent issues, simply by breaking bread.”

“Then let us hope your optimism bears fruit and sense finally prevails.” She said, awarding him with a smile but also finally removing her hand from his. She didn’t particularly want to, she found, but it wouldn’t be proper to linger.

“Well, that’s everyone.” Lady Mendez said, taking her role as the group’s official leader. “Thank you again, Lord Price, for hosting. It’s always a pleasure to come to Mars. Shall we take our seats?”

“Of course, my Lady.” Khalon said, and then stepped up to his seat. It was right by the head of the table where he had placed Giana. As they approached, servants sitting behind the seats where the ladies were assigned pulled out their chairs for them in concert. “The menu tonight is ambitious, but our chef here is very talented. I’m confident we will enjoy an eventful and tasty meal.”

“Good. Everyone enjoys a good meal.” Navi spoke from his place near the middle of the table, his voice continuing to sound dry and uninterested, but he wasn’t so apathetic that he hadn’t noticed where he had been placed in the line up. Still, wisely, he said nothing. He’d always been a man very good at knowing when to say nothing.

Once everyone was seated and settled, a team of servants entered the room with gold-rimmed bowls of something which smelled delicious. They walked around each of the council members and placed the bowls down on the plates in front of them. The one in front of Lady Lavigne spilled a small amount onto the plate and the woman gasped immediately. Instead of risking an apology, the woman simply disengaged and left with the rest. It was a small amount, but such a thing would speak to Khalon’s reputation immediately. The fact that woman was an Imperial Guard on Giana’s personal detail, and a former marine, wouldn’t factor in until later.

“Lobster Bisque with Tarragon Crème Fraîche and Caviar.” Ransom said, ignoring the very small faux-pas for now. The bowl presented a rich and creamy lobster bisque, garnished with a dollop of tarragon-infused creme fraiche and a spoonful of premium caviar. On the side was a toasted brioche. A second round of servers poured a white wine into their glasses. “Served with a chilled Chablis.”

Giana’s blue eyes did briefly move over toward the “servant” but she didn’t point it out other than to purse her lips briefly. She knew it wasn’t exactly their forte being on the guard, but she certainly expected them to be more careful than that.

“Did you hire yourself a crop of new servants, Khalon?” Navi asked curiously, not directly pointing out the blunder, but certainly bringing attention to it.

“There was a rotation recently, now that you mention it, Prince Navi. I’ve been making some changes around here now that I’m coming into my own as High Lord.” Khalon answered, not missing a beat. “I’ll have them broken in soon. I’m sure you understand, your Highness. I heard you and the Princess don’t really entertain anymore.”

“No, we don’t. My wife is at the point where she finds such things tiresome and prefers to simply attend the parties of others. My wallet is quite grateful.” He chuckled slightly, a rare moment of mild charm from the man.

“It’s a shame, really, Prince Navi. I remember you were quite good at throwing soirées.” Lady Isabel said, smiling at the man next to her. “There was never a dull moment or a lackluster dish.”

“Yes, it was certainly fun but we had our time. Now we just attend the parties of the young like Lord Price and Lord Hale here. I’m interested to see if our younger generation impresses.” He took a sip from his drink and smiled under his thick beard.

“I spent my years partying with soldiers and commoners, but I think I’ve mastered the art of the dinner party quite well.” Khalon said.

“Perhaps in some ways.” Lady Lavigne interjected as she looked down at her plate and the minute amount of soup on it. She took a spoonful of the dish and dried it. “The taste isn’t bad though. At least you’ve managed that.”

“Well, sometimes things do happen.” Giana spoke, her voice even and conversational as she looked to her fiancé’s mother. “I do remember one of your parties years ago where one of your servants spilled an entire tray of full wine glasses onto Lord Hedeby’s wife… how much did replacing that dress cost you?”

“A fortune, but I should have been paid for the destruction of that hideous creature she was wearing.” Lady Jolene said, but eyed Giana as if she had just committed a capital crime. Next to her, Lady Isadora laughed, her hand going up to cover her ruby red lips as they chewed.

“I remember that. You fired the poor man on the spot. It’s a good thing for the servant who spilled that soup that Lord Khalon is a bit more patient with his help.” The African woman said.

“There’s something to be said for a little grace when mistakes are made. Don’t you agree, Lady Montreve?” Giana’s tone was conversational, her gaze was not.

Isadora caught the gaze and the meaning. She licked the soup off of her lips and returned the gaze.

“As a matter of fact I do, your Highness. Some people act too rashly over something as simple as..spilled soup. Youth can be it’s own temptation. But I have learned to wait, to forgive, and to patiently teach how things are properly done.”

“Tell me, do you find you are of the mind that a person never stops learning during their lives?” Giana asked, having caught the woman’s meaning behind her words. Unfortunately for Montreve, she was trying to teach the wrong lesson.

“Certainly. A reason why I’ve always been a believer that there is usually more than one right way of doing everything.” Lady Isadora responded. “Lord Raoul’s answer might be different from mine, and mine from Prince Navi. That is why we talk, debate…search for the thing which works best for all of us. Temper tantrums over spilled soup are a product of entitlement and presumption.”

“Usually, but not always.” Giana replied patiently. “Sometimes, there is simply one correct path. Everything should be done in service to the Empire, not for personal gain or power, don’t you think?”

“Now now.” Isabel said, eyeing the two women from the other side of the table. Her allegiance was unquestionably to the Orsini, and she wouldn’t interject unless she thought it would help. “This is a delicious first course. Lord Price wanted it to bring us together, did he not?”

“Quite right.” Lady Isadora said, nodding at Khalon. “And it is very good. Thank you, my Lord.”

“My pleasure.” Khalon said. Throughout the back and forth, he had eaten his soup without seeming to really be paying attention, though he had heard every word. “I’m sure you’ll like the next course; especially you, Lord Raoul.”

Giana looked over at Isabel and her brows raised just slightly. The woman had just chastised a regent of the empire. Perhaps she had forgotten her allegiance too.

“Well, I have to agree with the ladies the first course was delicious, so I’m especially looking forward to what you have coming next.” Raoul replied with an easy smile. He’d been paying attention as well.

Lady Isabel wasn’t stupid, and she had noticed Giana’s offense and immediately chastised herself in turn. The fact that Giana was young and arguing when such an act was really beneath her had activated some maternal instinct.

“Lord Feng.” She said, hoping to direct the subject away from controversy again. “I hear that your son was stationed aboard the ISS Vengeance. Is that true?”

Honghui had been in the process of taking a sip of his wine but paused at the mention of his son and lowered the glass back to the table. He had many sons to lean back on, but the loss of his first boy to an unknown fate had been very difficult not only on him but to his own family.

“Yes, that is unfortunately true.” His voice was heavily accented, but he was careful and enunciated his words quite clearly. He didn’t betray the full depth of his feelings, but there was a frown on his face. He looked toward Raoul. “If I recall, your sister was also serving on that vessel, Lord Hale?”

“Truthfully, I prefer to say she is serving on the Vengeance.” Raoul replied easily. There was a sadness that lingered in his striking green eyes, but it seemed he tried to take an optimistic view - perhaps because the alternative was too heartbreaking. “Maybe it’s the optimism of youth, but I’m holding onto the hope that I will see my dear sister again and that you will see your son that very same day.” He paused and looked over to Khalon. “You as well with your sister.”

Khalon frowned, looking at the other two men and shaking his head. He had been so involved in his own grief that he hadn’t considered who else might have been on the ship.

“Maya was assigned to the Gladius, but she’s gone missing too.” He said, then turned to Giana. “You didn’t read any military reports on the status of missing ships when you were Supreme Commander, did you? So strange that so many would go missing with no explanation.”

“No, I’m afraid not.” The truth was, it hadn’t been a priority in the slightest until she had come to power, and really there was very little as far as resources that they could spare. Her heart hurt for her cousin, but they had to consider what was best for the Empire as a whole.

“It is strange, yes, and unfortunately no, there were no new reports past what we know, but I did assign a specialized unit to look into the disappearances of the Vengeance, Gladius, and Terror more in depth to see if we can figure out what happened.”

“That’s good. Thank God my son was stationed on a base and not one of those ships.” Jolene said, her tone seeming genuinely grateful and totally unaware of how insensitive the comment might seem.

“Yes, you're fortunate for that.” Khalon said, looking at the older woman in a way that was less than tolerant. His family was close; it was everything to him. The loss of his sister was still a devastating thing and he thought of her every single day. “Instead, Sacha is on Terra preparing to marry. The wedding is highly anticipated.”

“Yes, everyone is looking forward to it.” Jolene said with a smile, bright and genuine. “Sacha looks so handsome next to a princess. It’s no small thing to marry into the Imperial Family, right, Bernard?”

Bernard blinked, caught off guard that he was being addressed directly, and then cleared his throat to recover as naturally as possible. “Ah, no, it most certainly isn’t.” He smiled a mildly uncomfortable smile, but pressed on. “An absolute honor though to be part of the history of the Empire on such a scale.”

“Yes, Sacha does look quite handsome. I’m surprised you noticed.” Giana pointed out coolly and took a sip of her wine. Her head turned just slightly to Khalon. She wanted to move this along.

Khalon forced back a smile at the barb, but Jolene didn’t seem nearly as amused. He gave the signal and servants came forward, collected their bowls and wine glasses, and walked out.

“I have no idea what you mean.” The woman said, her French accent lilting dramatically. “I have eyes, do I not?”

Another set of servants entered, placed new wine glasses, and then exited once more. The table seemed to wait with various levels of interest and anxiety for Giana to respond to her mother-in-law to be.

“Of course you have eyes, they are just usually quite focused on your beloved Genevieve to notice Sacha as they always have. I know you had concerns about some of the weight she had been putting on in recent months. I’m glad to see she lost it and that it didn’t become a problem for… oh the next two decades or so.” Giana smiled, sickly sweet. She’d never liked this woman or her daughter.

Khalon cleared his throat, his voice wobbling in a way that made it clear he was suppressing laughter yet again. Jolene scowled at Giana, but chose a safer target instead.

“Is something funny, Lord Khalon? Why don’t you enlighten me?” She asked, venom in her voice.

“No, of course not, my Lady. I was just clearing my throat of that delicious wine. And thinking on how beautiful your daughter is.” He said, knowing that the prospect of marriage was still a powerful tool.

“Oh..”Jolene said, momentarily distracted. Her frown lifted to something a bit more pleasant. “I’ll let her know you said so.”

The servants entered then with the main meal. They placed the plates on the larger dishes in front of each lord, and the delightful smell wafted up from the plates.

“Herb-crusted rack of lamb with truffle mashed potatoes, baby vegetables, and red wine jus.” Khalon said, as the smell of the perfectly cooked meat filled his nostrils. This time, no mistakes were made amongst the servers. For that, he was grateful. He smiled proudly as they came forward to pour each of the guests glasses of a full-bodied Bordeaux wine.

Giana’s lips tipped upward in a slight smirk as Khalon expertly avoided Jolene’s misplaced ire. She did find herself wondering if he actually thought Genevieve was that beautiful, though. The truth was the woman was even older than her and she had yet to secure herself a husband despite the fact she had been named her mother’s heir over her brother. Even the promise of Paris couldn’t bring the men to her.

“This does look excellent.” Raoul commented after the servants had backed away from the table.

“I’m glad it suits you. I hope you enjoy it. It reminds me a bit of the cuisine of Brazil.” Khalon said, looking at the young man next to him. He hoped their friendliness could survive what was to happen next. “Let us discuss the current political question.”

“What question is that?” Lady Isadora asked, raising an eyebrow as she pulled the tender meat apart.

“Some members of this council are preventing a fair vote in the Senate concerning a crucial military matter.” Khalon responded, taking a bite.

“A parade is hardly an important military matter.” Jolene said, and sipped her wine.

“The men and women who fight to secure our victories against the enemies of the Empire would disagree, Lady Lavigne, but I’m curious as to why you, personally, feel such a thing is unimportant.” It was Lord Feng who spoke up before anyone else could.

“It’s simple really. Jolene said. “The hero of that I’ll-conceived attack was my son. He killed the traitor. He should be given honors instead.”

Lady Isadora’s eyes went wide at her erstwhile ally's bad answer. She shook her head visibly.

“The point is the Senate isn’t being asked, it’s being commanded. Was not the entire point of the Senate, from the moment of its conception, to give a voice to our Empire’s heroes? I suggest we let them vote freely, not just in this matter, but in all matters.The old Empire is long gone. It’s time we let it go, within reason.”

“Who says the old Empire is gone, Lady Montreve?” Giana asked calmly. “You? The Senators you’ve managed to pull under your thumb through rather unique methods from what I’m told?”

She looked to Navi. “Dear uncle?”

Navi cleared his throat and sipped his wine, obviously immediately cracking now that he was being directly addressed.

“You are not old enough to remember,” Isadora interjected, resisting Giana’s attempt to take command of who spoke and when. “But your father, your grandfather, your great grandfather, and your great great grandfather for a start. We no longer govern for survival of the fittest, and many people who lead are an example of that. I convinced Senators to vote for me by telling them I believe in the cause given to them by your father. I’m not the one trying to control them.”

“Princess Giana’s grandfathers are dead.” Khalon said, his tone commanding, but measured. “Her father has made her regent along with her mother and Ramsay. What does she say?”

“Lady Montreve, have you been well?” Giana asked. “No health complications as of late?”

Lady Isadora furrowed her brow, clearly annoyed. “What is this ridiculous line of questioning? I’m fine.”

“I’ve just been concerned about your memory, truthfully.” Giana replied, her face feigning concern but then it faded into something cold. “It seems that just because you sit at this table, you feel that it somehow makes you my equal. I assure you that you are not.”

Giana placed her elbows on the table and then laced her fingers loosely together.

“Do you remember what happened to your fellow blues?” She asked but didn’t wait for the answer. “We all know your political leanings, Lady Montreve. You allowed the vocal to take the fall and now here you are without anything to hide behind.”

“I’m being threatened now. Charming. Very charming.” The African woman said. “I was an independent, regardless of what you say, but I’m shocked by the tyrannical bent of the Orsini which started just last year. And now the daughter of Antonius is implying I’ll be murdered for doing what I was appointed to do.”

She turned to Prince Navi and then Lady Jolene. “There’s no point in ruining this meal with argument. Call for a vote in the Senate, Your Highness. Let the chips fall where they will.”

“Are you being threatened? I simply asked you a question again and still you refuse to answer.” Giana lowered her hands down flat to the table. “You all sit on this council by the grace and allowance of my great father. Some of you recognize that, others… do not.”

She settled her blue eyes - so very like her father’s - on the woman again. “You remain here by my grace.”

“Remove me then, ma’am. You have the power to do it.” Montreve said. “See if that settles the issue and gives you the absolute power you desire.”

Khalon stood from the table at some indication from one of the servants. He bowed respectfully to the table.

“Please excuse me.” He said, and then he exited quickly.

Giana’s eyes briefly moved to Khalon, then back to the target of her ire. “Tell me, why did you never try something like this while my father was in power, Lady Montreve?”

“There was nothing to try. Your father commanded the loyalty of the Senate. They trusted him, his judgment, his wisdom, and his divinity.” Montreve said with a scowl. “They do not trust you. And why would they, really? Many of them have served as soldiers, heroes, and statesmen while you were appearing on magazine covers. And now you try to win them over by playing the petty tyrant with me. What kind of loyalty can you expect?”

“You say they trusted my father and yet they do not trust in his decisions it seems.” Giana pointed out.

“Your father did not decide to go to Axanar, nor did he call for a parade. That was you.” Isadora said. He is not a rubber stamp for all of your decisions. The Senate was elected by the people of Terra anyway, and do not serve at your pleasure. Patriotism aside, none of us are stupid. The Emperor is obviously somewhere either in a coma or on his deathbed. There can be no trust for a man in such a state as that.”

“A man?” Giana challenged, her voice like ice. “He is your Emperor.”

“Honestly, don’t you think I know that, you stupid little girl?” Isadora said. The tension in the room increased incredibly after those words passed her lips. In the background, the servers entered and rounded the table as if to take the plates prematurely, but they stayed still instead. Everyone had heard the stories, and so the situation was well understood.

“Oh, Gods! No!” Jolene shouted distracting the table as Khalon walked in, stepped behind Isadora Montreve, and wrapped a large bicep around her small delicate neck.

“That’s no way to talk to a Princess.” he said in her ear as she lifted her from the chair and she choked, struggled, burbled, and scratched for air.

“You see, Lady Montreve,” Giana began and stood up slowly from where she was, her head high and the entire outfit simply adding to the air of imperious regality in the moment, “there is no ‘patriotism aside’. You are a citizen of the Empire. You serve the Empire. My father has made his decrees and appointed me, his daughter, blood of the divine, as a regent. Your trust is meaningless when you speak the words of a traitor. I am the Empire.”

Lady Isadora struggled, bucked, and kicked the table hard as she fought for her life. It was a surprise to her and to everyone else when Khalon’s dagger pierced through the front of her neck and a shower of blood went flowing onto the floor, the table, and the nearest neighbors. The brutality of the killing was horrendous, and as Khalon pushed her onto the table, removed the dagger from her neck, and stabbed her in the back over and over again, covering himself in blood, all accompanied with the woman’s burbles and the yelps, whimpers, and screams of the lords around the table. Finally, when she was still, he stopped and looked at Giana. With dead eyes, flipped like a switch, he looked at her. His bloody hand found the hair of Jolene Lavigne and he yanked her back toward him. Pressing the bloody dagger to her neck, he waited for Giana’s word.

Navi had been the first to stand and try to flee the room but was immediately blocked by the Imperial Guard.

“Let me out!” He demanded through Montreve’s dying burbles.

Honghui and Bernard had also stood, Honghui simply stepped to the side of his chair in case he had to defend himself, but Bernard actually backed away from the table and watched with wariness and disgust at what was happening.

Lady Isabel remained in her seat, but scooted the chair back from the table a bit. She was horrified, but understood the entire plot as it unfolded around them. Her loyalty was absolute and had been for years. She felt certain she was safe.

The only other person who didn’t move from the table besides Isabel and the now cornered Jolene was Raoul. In fact, he didn’t even move his seat back, he simply sat back and watched. There was a deep frown on his handsome face, but there was also an immediate acceptance. Sometimes, the only answer to a question was blood.

“Sit down. Now.” Giana commanded coldly. “Uncle, that includes you.”

She watched as the men moved to comply with some level of hesitation in each.

“Now then… Jolene, Navi, tell me something. How patriotic are you feeling?”

“My devotion to the Emperor is absolute, please!” Jolene stated, her hands struggling against Khalon’s bloody grip. Her blonde hair was caked in her former allies blood. “I am your fiancé’s mother! You can’t do this to me!”

“She can do what she wants.” Khalon said, drawing a trickle of blood on the woman’s neck with the dagger.

“Get your hands off of me, you brute!” Jolene screamed, still struggling with him. “Ahhhhh!!!”

“Your devotion to the Emperor? That according to you has never wavered and yet you block the will of the regents placed by his hand.” Giana sighed, wishing they hadn’t taken the wine away. This woman made everything exhausting.

“And, Jolene, I took an army to kill my own brother for the good of the Empire. Do you really think I wouldn’t kill the mother of my fiance who has constantly mistreated and looked down on him his entire life if it was for the good of the Empire?”

Sacha had been a disappointment in her book, and that view would never change. He was ungrateful, and the only good think he’d ever done was fuck Princess Gigi and put a ring on her finger. She was starting to even regret the benefit of that act, now that her son’s royal whore was treating her so poorly.

“It was that bitch Isadora who talked me into it! I’m loyal to your father and to you. I’ll do whatever you say!”

“Wonderful. I’m so glad to hear that.” Giana smiled sweetly and then turned her attention to Navi who immediately sat up straight and tense. “Uncle?”

“I… I made an error in judgment, Gia- Princess Regent. Please forgive me.” He said slowly, absolute fear in his eyes. He looked nervously between Giana and Jolene.

Giana looked back to Jolene. “Hmm he even apologized.”

“Say sorry to the Princess.” Khalon said.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Mon Dieu, I’m sorry!”

Khalon looked up at Giana once again to see what was to happen.

For just the briefest of instants Giana almost looked disappointed, but it went away. In the end, it was Sacha’s mother, and if she was to die, she felt she should probably at least discuss it with Sacha beforehand. She looked up toward Khalon and lifted a hand, telling him to remain, but not continue.

“Very good. I’m so happy we can all come together.” Her voice was dry and somewhat disconnected. “Now then, Navi, Jolene, let me explain to you what is going to happen next. You are both going to be given honors for helping to expose the traitor Montreve who was plotting to utilize the Senate against the Empire and will be publicly celebrated for your part in it. You will tell your pocket puppets that they are to vote in favor of the parade posthaste, and then I expect you to remain the most loyal, devoted servants of the Empire.”

Isabel shook her head. Only fools would see the reinstating of the Imperial Senate as an attempt to democratize the Empire. Regardless of what might have been right or wrong for them, Montreve and the other two had gravely underestimated the resolve of Princess Giana and the brutality of kings. Their little coup could never hope to survive long without violence. Fools. Stupid, outmaneuvered, dead fools.

The whimpering from Jolene had stabilized regardless of the dagger at his neck because she knew she would be spared. “Yes, yes. I agree.”

“I understand, Highness.” Navi replied, his voice barely above a murmur. He almost seemed embarrassed in a way and kept himself from looking directly at Giana.

“If anyone at this table should deviate from this narrative or our future shared goals, the consequences for your defiance will be severe. Does everyone understand?” Giana asked, her voice low and cool.

A chorus of acknowledgement flowed forth from the others at the table, Giana’s eyes fell on Khalon.

The High Lord of Mars was drenched in blood, his immaculate suit now ruined by the lifeblood of the dead Dominion Lady. His hands were steady as he released Jolene, but his heart was beating so fast, his pulse could be seen in his neck. His eyes were glazed over, and he didn’t even look at Giana except to nod. Killing a Terran was a terrible thing.

“I think most of us have lost our appetites in the face of Montreve’s treachery. I will have your dessert delivered to your suites.”

“Escort them to their rooms, though keep Lady Lavigne separated from her daughter until I say otherwise.” Giana instructed the guards both in uniform and dressed as servants.

“Why?” Jolene asked, frowning, remaining on her feet.

“I’m sorry, did you ask a question?” Giana looked at Jolene, her brows lifting slowly and her face expressing disappointment that the woman would be so foolish as to question anything when she had just had a dagger to her throat not a few moments before.

“Will my daughter be harmed?” Jolene asked. There were some things a person couldn’t be threatened into. She loved Genevieve, and that fact was evident on her face. “She hasn’t done anything. She doesn’t know anything.”

“No, of course not.” Giana scoffed. “I’m not going to fault her because you decided to be untoward and bring her here to flaunt her like livestock, but I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with the both of you quite yet.”

Jolene wanted to respond, but knew Giana couldn’t be talked to. She had always hated the girl, honestly, and she did so now more than ever.

The soldiers walked up to the table and escorted each of the members of the Council of Lords to their suites. When they were gone and Giana was left with only Khalon in the room, he turned his eyes to her finally.

“I think the message was received.” He said. “Good job.”

“I hope so.” Giana replied, went quiet for a moment, and then her expression softened. She moved around the table to him, not looking at Montreve on the floor for fear her strength was but an illusion.

“Are you alright, Khalon?”

“I did what I had to do.” He said simply, looking at her and starting to strip his suit jacket off. Next he unbuttoned his vest and took that off next, leaving him in a blood-stained white shirt. “I’m a soldier among many other things, and it isn’t the first time. Probably won’t be the last.”

“That doesn’t really answer the question though, does it?” She asked and stepped closer. “I can see your heartbeat in your neck.”

He could hear the concern in her voice; see the care in her eyes. He looked at her for just a moment before he closed the distance between them and placed his lips in hers. Their bodies were separated since he didn’t want to ruin her dress, but his full lips moved skillfully on hers.

“I’m fine.” He said against them.

Giana had been taken completely off guard as Khalon suddenly approached and kissed her. For just a moment, her lips were still against his, and then she found them moving against his with softness and skill before anything else entered her mind. Her hand came up, touching his neck and jaw and it lingered there when he finally pulled back. She was breathing a bit more rapidly and her eyes were fixed on his. It seemed for a moment she might lean back into him, but instead she stepped back with an immense amount of effort which would have been obvious to anyone.

“If you’re sure.” She said, pretending what had just happened hadn’t happened.

“I am. “ he said, smiling despite his appearance . The blood obviously made him seem a thousand times more dangerous than he did when he was proper and clean. “I need a shower..and then my dessert. Care to join me, Your Highness?”

The conflict in her eyes was just as obvious as her struggle to pull back from him had been. She searched his face, then finally frowned while taking in a deep breath and letting it out in a slow sigh. “I can’t, Khalon. I can’t do that to Sacha; if he did it to me I would be completely devastated.” Pausing, her frown suddenly tipped upward in a fleeting smile.

“Besides, would you really want a woman who would be so willing to do that to you?”

“You can do whatever you want.” He said, decisive and clearly not upset. She wondered how she figured her fiancé would respond when he discovered something was wrong with his mother and sister. Perhaps he wouldn’t even care. “You are the Empire, after all. You can enjoy a simple desert with a Lord of the Empire while discussing the..political situation going forward.”

“You’re right, I can.” She shook her head slowly, the smile returning to its original form as she did so. “But I won’t.”

“Well, at least my activities this evening may keep Genevieve from knocking on my door this evening.” He said with a smile. “So that’s a plus.”

For just a moment, Giana’s mind interpreted his words as if his planned activities for the evening would be keeping Genevieve busy himself and there was a flash of anger before the rest of her mind caught up with the correct meaning. She relaxed then and took another deep breath, taking another step back from him to give herself room.

“Yes… we’ll have to talk later about what to do with those two…”

“What are you considering?” Khalon asked, raising an eyebrow. “Do you think they’re any different than Navi?”

“I want to talk about this later, Khalon.” Giana replied, closing her eyes and taking another step back from him. “Please.”

“Alright.” He said, his own eyes reflecting concern for her. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, I suspect.”

“Tomorrow, then.” Giana nodded and then immediately turned to leave and moved with all possible haste that still allowed her to continue to walk and not run from the room. Once she was out and significantly down the hallway, she stopped and placed one hand over her mouth and the other arm wrapped around her abdomen. She left her nose uncovered to take slow, deep breaths and closed her eyes.

Her mind was racing with the events of the night - in the moment she was in control, but now that the adrenaline was wearing off, she found herself shaking slightly. Giuseppe had deserved what had been done to him, but had Montreve? Had there been a different path to explore or a way to bring her to heel? Had she started something in motion that might be hard to stop?

She really wasn’t sure.

END
]]> Sat, 28 Dec 2024 22:23:17 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/844 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/844
Mission - S1 Episode 8: Resolutions
Location - Ready Room

ON

After the arrival of the initial away team from Vengeance, Ivan had undergone the administering of the cure by Dr. Pel, as did the rest of his erstwhile inhabitants of the doomed planet. To say he had been shocked to see Andrei and the others was an understatement, and he still felt he was in shock as he and Yana dressed in their room, donning their uniforms for the first time in months.

He materialized alone on the transporter pad, deciding to go up earlier than everyone else in order to shake himself awake in a certain sense. The familiar room appeared before him. He blinked as his eyes settled on the transporter chief and then the blonde woman standing before him.

“Annalise..” he said, licking his lips. “So much for obeying my orders, I see.”

He smiled then and stepped down the steps to the floor.

“Captain.” Annalise greeted, her voice warm and a matching smile on her beautiful face. “It is good to see you again.”

Annalise was quite aware there would be a discussion, but she was still confident in her decision. She had never been blind to the effect that leaving the away team behind had on the crew nor the steadily increasing unrest it had caused. In the end, she had been confident in the decisions she had made. “Welcome home.”

“It’s good to see you as well, Commander. I honestly didn’t expect to see any of you ever again. It’s quite a relief and, like for the rest of those who were left to make a life on that planet, a shock.” He responded, his brown eyes taking her in. “I look forward to reading your report of the last few months. It must have been eventful.”

“It was, yes. The report is already ready and waiting for you.” She stood with him, perfectly at ease and holding his gaze without any sign of challenge or upset that he was back. “How would you like to handle your return to command and my return to the Gladius? Now, or would you like a day or two to settle back in? I’ve already moved from your quarters and had your things sent back in.”

“I only learned of this change a few moments ago, Commander. Don’t drop the paperwork on me just yet.” He said, smiling. “Give me two days to familiarize myself with the details and reports, and then I can take the reins. For now, let’s walk and talk.”

Chuckling, Annalise nodded and shifted out of his way so he could take the lead. “Of course, Captain. I simply didn’t want to overstay my welcome.”

She fell into step with him once he started walking and kept her eyes forward. “The crew performed in exemplary fashion these past few months. You’d be proud of them.”

“That’s good to know.” He said as they stepped out into the corridor. He took the lead comfortably and without hesitation, nodding at a passing crewman who smiled at him. “I see there’s no knife between your ribs. I can only assume that means you found a way to tame the XO.”

“Were you expecting one to be there?” Annalise asked, mildly amused but also not particularly surprised.

“I didn’t expect it…but I wouldn’t have been shocked.” He said with a chuckle. “Tell me about it.”

“Truthfully, Andrei was very cooperative overall. Of course there were moments, but there are always moments. I found the most effective way of working with him was to give him space to do his job and explore his options; to give him trust that he would do what he was supposed to.” Annalise explained. “The thoughts of his lost family were never far from him, though, and he was determined to find a cure.”

“I’m glad you figured it out. Many commanding officers would have been less flexible.” He noted, taking a bend in the corridor. “And the rest of the senior staff gave you no issues as well?”

“Nothing in a disciplinary sense, however,” she glanced over at him and then continued, “I did make a shift in our Flight Control department. Lieutenant Forrest did not thrive in his new position as Chief Flight Control Officer here as we hoped he would. Ensign Price performed admirably, but she wasn’t quite up to the task of taking over. Surprisingly though, I found a new candidate through fate, it seemed.”

“I met Sipov down on the planet. He told me how he found us.” Ivan responded thoughtfully. “I can’t decide if the gods favor us or despise us, Annalise. We seem to go back and forth between fortune and misfortune as often as a man changes his pants.”

“You know how fickle they can be.” She replied calmly while shaking her head. “Perhaps our lives are simply amusement to them at this point. I can’t say I’m enjoying myself most of the time.”

“Whatever is planned must be for the greater glory of the Empire.” He said with conviction. “They must be on our side. Nothing else makes sense.”

“Well, at least one of them is, otherwise we would all certainly be dead considering everything that has happened to our vessels, no?” She chuckled with a shadow of humor and shook her head again. “Lieutenant Boros has not served for long, but I have found him to be competent and eager.”

“Well, that’s fortunate. What happened to Jonathan?” He asked, looking at her as he pressed the call button for the turbo lift.

“I sent him back to the Gladius to resume his former posting there.” Annalise replied simply and stepped onto the lift once the doors opened. “He fares better on the smaller vessel it seems. Lieutenant Urso and Lieutenant Wolff have both settled in quite well in their departments though.”

“That’s a relief, at least.” Ivan said, stepping in after her and calling for the Bridge. “And I assume you didn’t flush anyone out of the airlock or drink all the wine while I was away.”

“Crew compliment is the same as it was when you left; wine… maybe not as much.” She flashed a grin, warm and friendly. It was a joke of course, considering she was not much of a drinker, but it was all in good fun.

“How did you all fare on the planet? I didn’t have a report of anyone being rushed to sickbay.”

“We built a nice little home in the time we had.” He answered with a nod, smiling at her joke. “There were storms that destroyed our research largely , but we weatherproofed the camp and moved forward. Our people are intelligent and resourceful.”

“They are Terran, I would have expected nothing less.” She paused as the lift slowed and the doors opened to the bridge. Annalise stepped out first, but then moved aside for Ivan to move ahead of her and take in the place he had been parted from for too long.

The senior staff were mostly busy, so the stations on the Bridge were populated with replacement staff. He recognized every face, and as the loud voice of the Chief of Boat cracked the air, they all rose to their feet.

“Captain on the Bridge!” The aging man said. His long, straight hair was restrained in a ponytail that cascaded down his back, black with signs of gray.

“At ease and keep your stations.” Ivan said, raising a hand and looking between each of the faces. “It’s good to be home again. Thank you for working to rescue us; all of you.”

“Glad to have you back, sir.” Simmons spoke up from tactical and the sentiment was echoed from a few others with murmured agreement.

Annalise left a small smile on her face as Ivan had his moment with the auxiliary crew and then finally moved from behind him down toward the ready room, but paused at the end of the railing that would take her down the steps to wait for Ivan, not trying to rush the man in case he wanted to mingle or take a seat in his chair.

Ivan nodded at Simmons as they passed the tactical station, but didn’t bother to sit in the chair or to make the rounds. There would be time for that very soon. Instead, he simply walked after Annalise to the ready room and stepped inside with her. Crossing his arms as the doors closed, he settled his eyes on her as he made his way to the winding real couch in front of the window. He assumed all of her decorations had already been cleared out or that she’d never moved them in in the first place.

“So, tell me how you found the cure.”

“As I mentioned, Commander Petrov was quite adamant about finding a cure and returning to collect those we had left behind. I was not opposed to the idea, but I made it very clear I would not risk the lives of our people on a long shot. That caused some… friction a few times.” She paused and pursed her lips. “We eventually received word about an engineering conference that was taking place on a Vidiian lunar colony. I approved Andrei and Marikit to attend the conference while the fleet remained at a nearby trading post. Andrei found information regarding Dr. Denara Pel who had apparently formulated a cure and her whereabouts. That information turned out to be correct, so I ordered the fleet move to the outpost where we did indeed find her.”

“I assume the Vidiians didn’t hand her over willingly though.” He remarked, leaning back into the soft cushions of his couch and trying to adjust mentally to being back. It wasn’t easy. He kept expecting to simply wake up in his bed on Gamma Eridine II. “How did you get her help? She seemed quite willing and…unchained.”

“No, they didn’t hand her over willingly. Our teams did meet resistance, but when she was found, she apparently saw the wisdom in being cooperative.” Annalise explained. “It seems they aren’t all foolish.”

“One in a thousand, perhaps.” Ivan remarked, his eyes watching her for any sign of what she might not be saying. “They’ve expended some considerable energy to hurt us in the past. They might want revenge for this.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it. I would strongly suggest we not linger here longer than we need to. I saw a report that Ensign Ocara suggested bringing up some of the native plants you had found and potentially converting parts of the Rynall to an aeroponics bay.” She sat down with Ivan, but left a respectful amount of distance between them while they talked.

“That would be something interesting to explore. We discovered quite a lot about the world and made use of its flora and fauna. All in all, she was a friendly planet, and would make an excellent colony besides the specter of disease.” He said, thinking of the Rynall and the scientific research they had there. It was the ship they held the easiest, with the least punishment and programming. Vidiians were easy to control once they were under thumb; they protected the status quo, whatever it happened to be.

“Now that we have the cure, perhaps a colony is something to consider for the distant future.” Annalise noted with a smile. “I am very glad she treated you all so well.”

Pausing, she shifted her eyes outside toward the planet. “You should give her a better name than what she has now.”

“If we get back to Terra, it’ll be near the top of the list of suggestions for the Emperor. Perhaps, in leaving, we can find a quick and reliable way to return.” He said, his voice sounding almost hopeful. “As for a name, that could be something to keep in mind. Though we didn’t do it the whole time we were down there and now that we’re leaving, it almost seems the wrong thing to do.”

Annalise lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug but wore an understanding smile. “What was life like there? Was it a very difficult adjustment?”

“There was a rough transition between soldier on a journey homeward and colonist…it wasn’t easy, but we made an adjustment near the end. We all accepted we would be there for the foreseeable future; probably forever.” He answered, looking at her with a glint of sadness in his eyes. “And now it’s almost like it was all a dream.”

Reaching out, Annalise gave a small squeeze to Ivan’s shoulder. “While I wish we could have come back sooner, I’m glad we were able to return for you even if it wasn’t exactly what was planned. I’m sure you would have lived decent enough lives there - you’re all resourceful and intelligent - but it isn’t Terra.”

“No, it isn’t.” He responded with a shake of his head, his eyes finding hers. “And the gods have something else in store for us, it seems. How do you feel about returning to Gladius?”

“I’m sure my XO has gone thoroughly insane by now, so that will be interesting to return to, but I’m not bothered by it.” Annalise chuckled softly. “It will be good to be home, though I’ll admit I’ll miss the larger quarters.”

“I hear that one.” Ivan said, then stood up. He was towering as usual, but his smile contrasted the stark and severe uniform he now wore once more. “Thank you, Annalise; for your leadership and for your decision to come back.”

She stood with him, her own smile lingering on her beautiful face. While her stance was on the surface easy, there was a certain confidence to it that couldn’t be denied. “I live to serve, Captain, and I would not see Terran lives forfeit if I can help it.”

Ivan nodded, gesturing to the desk she had occupied for quite some time. “Keep the chair for another 24 hours. It’ll give me time to readjust and read the reports I’ve missed. You can transfer back to Gladius tomorrow. I’m sure Stagg will be thrilled.”

“I’m sure.” She agreed with a soft chuckle. The man had done a fine job leading the smaller ship, but it was clear he still hated everything about the role. “Take your time, and if you have any questions or want to go over anything in more detail please don’t hesitate to call for me.”

“I certainly won’t.” Ivan responded, gesturing to the room. “Until tomorrow, I leave you with the Ready Room. I’ll be working from my quarters. You can have anything you believe I need to see sent down there.”

“I will, sir.” Annalise assured him and meandered with him toward the door, though stopped in front of the desk where she gave her a warm smile. “Take care and I will see you tomorrow.”

“See you then.” Ivan said, offered a polite smile which seemed to be filled with mixed emotions, and then stepped out of the doors.

OFF
]]> Thu, 28 Nov 2024 06:49:04 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/850 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/850
Mission - S1 Episode 8: Resolutions
Location - Gamma Eridine II

ON:
Gamma Eridine II
February 12, 2372
It was a bright sunny morning as it always tended to be on their new planet. As the sun crested over the horizon, oranges and purples dazzled and amazed. It was a beautiful place and, to some extent, it had become home. The storms that occasionally plagued them during this season were severe, but they had done a fairly good job of weather-proofing their little village in the clearing and preventing as much damage as possible. Much to the dismay of many, the samples in the woods had been completely destroyed. The women on the science team had vowed to start over, but no steps seemed to have been taken. Perhaps they had accepted their fate, especially considering that Mika, the most zealous among them to find a cure, had been sullen, and sulky, and avoidant for over a month.

Tomorrow, it would be four months to the day since they first arrived in the Gamma Eridine system, and three months since they’d seen another soul besides themselves. Ivan Petrov stretched and stepped out into the crisp morning air. He’d donned a jacket, as it was starting to get quite cold, and considered his position. He was the Lord of Russia, but Russia was seventy years away. He was a captain of Imperial Starfleet, but his command was likely now three months' journey away. Who was he really? What would his future look like?

As he considered these questions, he heard shuffling in the area around him. He had no doubt several others were starting to crawl out of bed and to prepare for their day. He found himself moving in the direction of the sound, hoping to see who it was.

“Good morning.” A feminine voice greeted him once he was in view.

Ilan Ocara was standing near one of the walking paths stretching and preparing for her morning run. She was dressed in a form fitting tank top and running tights both in a matching dark purple. The outfit certainly left little to the imagination, and showed off her magnificent feminine body with its rolling curves and plumpness in all the right places. Ilan had made the best of life on the planet, trying to find new adventures or taking up new skills, but she had been the one to work most often with Mika in trying to find a cure for the virus. Ilan had been devastated by the loss, but she was far better at bouncing back than Mika had been.

Or maybe she was just better at hiding it.

She offered a courteous smile to Ivan and stretched her arms.

“You’re like clockwork, woman.” Ivan said as he approached and watched the young woman get ready for her run. His eyes stayed on her face, never straying to her body. “If you learn to crow like a rooster, you can get the rest of these sleepy-heads up with you.”

Ilan laughed, easygoing as always and clearly amused by the notion. “I feel like the people here might shoot the rooster, truthfully.”

She paused and continued while stretching her ankles. “I’ve always found sticking to a relatively strict morning routine and then leaving my evenings open for fun and spontaneity has worked for me, and it seems to work relatively well still even here.”

“It’s important to keep a routine. In a situation like ours, it can keep you from going crazy.” Ivan said, turning to watch her, but still managing to avert his eyes. “Maybe I should join you. My gut has been growing eating all the food we have here.”

“Usually some people do, but it was a late night for some last night watching that meteor shower.” Ilan paused, her smile becoming slightly sad and her eyes left Ivan’s face and went downward toward the ground. “Strange to think we’d find beauty in it now when not that long ago, we flew among the stars.”

“I know what you mean.” Ivan said, looking down at her and noticing the clear signs of sudden sadness. It was a common emotion here, and he embraced it without surprise or judgment. He stepped forward, and his huge, hairy hand fell on her shoulder with surprising gentleness. We are Terran. We are survivors. And we will bring beauty to this place.”

The sad smile remained, but Ilan lifted her hand and placed it on Ivan’s wrist for the simple moment of connection between two human beings. She didn’t let the touch linger and her hand drifted down as she prepared to speak, but she was cut off by a strange static chirp.

“…eance … tain… Petro… co… in… ease.”

The sad frown turned into one of confusion as she looked down at his commbadge. “Did you hear that too?”

——

On the outskirts of the camp, past the other side of the structures, a series of blue transporter beams delivered several familiar faces. Had anyone actually seen them, the first thing they would notice was the fact they weren’t wearing EV suits. Medical had worked closely with Dr. Pell to synthesize cures as well as innoculations from the bug-borne virus.

“A bit colder than I suspected.” Andrei said, eyeing the group. “It looks like they’ve done a pretty good job establishing this settlement.”

“They have a nice area they’ve cultivated.” Lyra observed thoughtfully and took a few steps toward it before looking back toward the others. “Though we shouldn’t expect anything less from Terrans, I suppose.”

“Let’s walk a wide path so we don’t sneak up on them. I don’t want any mistakes.” Andrei ordered as he started toward the margins of the clearing and starting them on a path around it.

Lyra fell in with Andrei on his left and slightly behind him. While he kept his attention mostly to the front, she continued to look around curiously in an effort to distract herself from her thoughts. The overwhelming majority of her was quite happy for Andrei, there was a small part of her that knew having his family back would simply make matters more complicated… and there was another small part of her that was jealous. She hinted at neither thing, of course; the jealousy wasn’t reasonable and the other… well, it simply couldn’t be helped.

“It smells like there’s been a lot of rain here.”

“Ops said that their initial scans indicated a season of high volatility and storm.” Andrei responded, his visible eye moving to the appearance of the shelters. “It looks like these have been reinforced. I’d bet they’ve been through a bad storm or two and learned some lessons.”

Lyra hummed an acknowledgement then glanced back to make sure the rest of the away team was keeping up. “They must all be waiting in the main structure.”

They continued to walk into the settlement proper until they were faced with the largest building. Inside, Ilan was looking out of the windows along with several others, and when she finally saw Andrei’s massive form emerge from around one of the other buildings, she had to stop herself from yelling in excitement. “I see them!”

“See who?” Yana asked, looking over at the excited younger woman. She rounded the table and looked out of the window herself. “Oh, gods! Oh, gods, they’re back!”

“Told you I heard something.” Ilan shot Ivan a look but was too excited. She bounced up and headed toward the door. “Mika come on!”

Mika shrieked like a child and burst to her feet. Within seconds, the two women were the first to emerge from the main building. Smiling, Mika ran the distance between the two groups and leaped into her brother’s arms, hugging him and kissing his face repeatedly.

“Surprise.” Andrei said with a smiling and chuckling, his strong arms moving to support his typically reserved sister.

A sea of others came out of the building as well, coming over to meet them, though more slowly than Ilan and Mika had.

Lyra’s dark eyes moved over to Mika and Andrei as the younger woman excitedly greeted her older brother. She remembered to smile, but looked away after a moment; she was aware that the only reason she was standing here was because Annalise had sent her with Andrei. She had likely assumed that Andrei would have wanted her there for the happy moment, and that probably would have been true for many couples, but Lyra knew better.

Instead she turned her eyes to Ilan who approached in her own hurried way, smiling brightly at the group. “You came back.”

“You didn’t think we could really leave you all here, did you?” Lyra challenged with mild amusement.

As the Petrov s all gathered together, hugging, kissing, and greeting each other, Maya and her boyfriend reunited, and for the first time in a long time, all was smiles and joy.

After a brief exchange with Ilan who then floated off to greet others of the away team, Lyra’s dark gaze fell on Corvin and she allowed a small smile to settle on her face. She left Andrei to his family and walked toward him, her hips swaying slowly and her eyes focused on him. Once she drew near enough, she looked down into his eyes and her dark hair framed her face.

“Glad to see you’re alive, Corvin.”

Subtle wasn’t exactly Corvin’s strong suit, but he liked to think he was pulling it off as his gaze traced the curve of Lyra’s hips, lingering briefly before rising to meet her eyes. His smirk deepened, arms folding loosely across his chest, as he almost forgot how good it was to watch his Chief strut since she always commanded everyone's attention. "You make it sound like I have a habit of finding ways to die, Commander.”

"You do seem to try very hard from time to time." She reached out to him and squeezed his shoulder. "You're doing well then?"

"I'm doing well, kept myself busy building cabins." He smiled warmly at her touch, his gaze shifting towards a couple of rough, frontier buildings.

"Well, you've done well." She let her hand drop from Corvin's shoulder. "We could leave you here, if you like, but I do imagine you'd like to stop building your little cabins and get back to the real work, hm?"

"If I have to build another cabin, I think I'll go crazy," He chuckled, the sound of a man who wasn't joking before smiling a bit more congenially. "I'd love the chance to actually get back to something that's important."

"Glad to hear it. We'll be breaking down the camp and transporting everything back. Go and get started." She nodded to him.

"Aye, Commander." Corvin nodded and immediately to started on the task of breaking down the camp, with a fervor that she would have really only seen when he was getting ready to go into a fight or carry out her orders.

Lyra watched Corvin move off immediately to follow her lead. Obedience to her orders wasn’t a foreign thing to her in the slightest, but it was the way Corvin obeyed without a single thought of question that made him so valuable. She was genuinely happy to have her hound back by her side.

Andrei had taken note as soon as Lyra and Corvin had reunited. He had been so caught up with his family, that he hadn’t really thought too much about the pair. It was a natural result of their returning to Gamma Eridine that she would get her dog back, which meant he would have to monitor the situation once again. A dedicated man waiting in the sidelines was a threat, no matter how obviously superior Andrei might be.

“We have the cure and we’re here to administer it.” Andrei said, reaching out to pull Dr. Pel forward by the wrist.

Ivan noticed the exchange and understood that they had disobeyed his orders. He figured, however, that he would just have to accept that for now.

“I see.” Ivan said, looking from the doctor to his gathered people. “Well then…let’s get started.”

END]]> Thu, 28 Nov 2024 06:46:20 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/836 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/836
Mission - S1 Episode 8: Resolutions
Location - Holodeck 2

True to what Andrei had said, the information for the costume Lyra was to replicate had come in exactly thirty minutes after her shift. When she had seen what it was, she was quite curious as to what her beloved had planned. Her shift had gone until lunch rather uneventfully and she had spent that time with her men and even a few moments with Maya. They had given her gifts of alcohol, chocolates, and other confections; the gesture was appreciated and noticed of course. She had returned to her shift in her office only to be paid a visit by the XO for a “surprise inspection” which had seen Andrei on his knees between her legs once more demonstrating his love and devotion to her while still taking nothing in return from her. She knew the kind of discipline he was exercising to accomplish the task, but she also knew he had a purpose behind it that would likely be revealed to her quite soon.

She was sitting in front of the vanity in her own bathroom looking in the mirror. Behind her was Lottie who was carefully sliding pins into her hair to secure the braids they had made so she could wear the wig that had come with the costume. Did she need the help? No. However this was a continuation of her little experiment she had taken up while Andrei had been away with Kit several weeks ago. She found she enjoyed being served in such a way; it was fitting for a person of Imperial blood and it was quite normal even in a military environment to have a slave or servant to attend to their needs. While Lyra would have preferred a paid servant, that wasn’t exactly an option in their circumstance, but Lottie was proving to be quite perfect for her plans.

“You look beautiful, Domina.” Lottie said softly, her gaze down as she put the last pin into Lyra’s hair. “Shall I put the wig on now?”

“Yes.” Lyra nodded, looking at herself in the mirror. Her dark eyes were lined with thick black liner painted like traditional kohl with a shining blue-green eyeshadow to mimic the malachite and lapis lazuli that were once employed for just such a function. Lottie lowered the wig down onto her head, the black braids framed her face and the golden caps and beads in them caught the flights of the vanity. Lottie went about securing the wig firmly, and then on went the ornate vulture crown on top of it.

Andrei had taken some liberties with the historical accuracy of the costume of course, but she didn’t mind. Once everything was settled, she stood up to her full height and looked at herself. Everything she wore was beautifully ornate and sparkling with gold and precious jewels. The linen kalasiris she wore was very revealing with fabric criss-crossing over her beautifully formed breasts and covering her navel. The back was completely open, though from under the pectoral collar necklace came a white cape of fabric that would cover her. There was a band underneath her beasts which accentuated their shape and size, and then another around her waist held in place the front and back of her skirt. The openings came up all the way to the belt, revealing her long toned legs and threatening to reveal more if she were to move wrong - undergarments didn’t really work with the set up. Even the fabric itself had a filmy, translucent quality to it.

She looked the picture of a queen and she felt it too.

“You did well, Lottie. You may go.”

“Yes, Domina. Thank you.” With that, the slave girl hastily departed.

Lyra had walked the short journey to the holodeck and the amount of stunned, awed looks she had received hadn’t gone unnoticed. She entered the doors without hesitation to see what would greet her.

As she stepped through the doors, Lyra was transported from the corridor of a starship to a place where her outfit was fitting and grand. The sun blazed above as she emerged into a courtyard full of plants, trees, and a beautiful man-made pool. The outside space seemed to form the center of a royal palace of an ancient design, and the more humbly-dressed attendants and courtiers mingled there, walked passed, and sat on benches. When they saw her however, all other distractions ceased and people began to fall on their knees on the sandy stone ground where they had stood.

“The Pharaoh!” exclaimed the one who was nearest her, and he lowered himself all the way to the ground as close to her feet as he could get without touching her.

The exception to all of the kneeling, bowing, and scrapping were the men in red garments and shining silver armor who looked at her directly and, though they had stopped speaking, swept her with their eyes hungrily.

“Rise.” Lyra commanded those who were bowing to her, though her dark eyes were on the red cloaked soldiers before her. She took several steps toward them, her head held high, and then her eyes slightly narrowed as she regarded them with an imperious gaze.

“The Queen of Egypt graces us with her presence.” one of the soldiers said, his small eyes squinting in a smile as the rest of the Egyptians rose at her command and began to mill about again, though they kept themselves aware of her presence.

“Your Gloriousness,” interrupted a dark-skinned man to her right. His ropes were of white and gold, clearly more fine than those of the people around them. “Your pleasure barge awaits, and Caesar awaits you by the banks of the Nile.”

Cleopatra and Caesar then, she had been curious which of the two mantles he would take up - Caesar or Antony. “Very well. Lead the way.”

She followed the man through the elegantly appointed courtyard. Once they stepped outside of the gates, she lowered herself elegantly into the waiting palanquin and settled there in an elegant, sensual pose as the slaves on either side lifted her to carry her down to the waiting barge. She used the opportunity to simply look around and take in the scenery; she enjoyed Andrei’s creativity just as much as he seemed to enjoy her own. His efforts on this day in particular were extra appreciated, and she continued to look forward to seeing what he had planned.

The streets of Alexandria were populated with a diverse array of people, a mixture of native Egyptians, Greek Egyptians, Roman soldiers, and the many other merchants and immigrants one would find in a major capital. The royal way outside the palace, however, had an extra grandeur. Not only was it lined with more decorations and colors, but the presence of guards and soldiers was conspicuous, and the feeling of safety was greater there than almost anywhere else in the city. As she passed, people knelt in the sand of the street, dirting their clothes to honor her in all her beauty, shielded from the sun by a canopy of golden cloth.

The Nile could be seen several minutes before they actually got close to its banks, and along with it, a large pleasure parge of green-painted wood and gold plating was moored by the dock. A large canopy of gold was draped beneath with crimson cloth drapes and a magnificent bed was lined with red satin sheets, colorful pillows, and flanked by six beautiful Egyptian soldiers.

Lyra took in every detail with great enjoyment and studied the boat they were approaching with great interest. Its primary purpose was quite clear to her, and Andrei’s attentions from the morning and the afternoon certainly had her craving that exact thing. She would be patient though.

“The Pharaoh approaches!” One of the Egyptians announced as the slaves carried her down to the dock and the soldiers waiting there. As the slaves lowered her down, two stepped forward to pull the canopy of gold cloth aside so she could be let out. A hand extended itself to her and she took it, allowing it to guide her out and up and right in front of him. The polished silver armor glittered in the light and was contrasted by the red cape and accents on the fabric of his uniform. Her eyes lifted and she found his face.

“Hail to you, Caesar.”

“The Queen of the Nile.” Andrei responded with a grin, his mismatched eyes having feasted upon her from the moment she had crested the downward slope. As she stood, he kept his eyes on hers with much difficulty. Her toned legs called for his attention the most, and they were mostly visible considering the openness of the fabric he had recommended. He looked every bit the Roman general, and his long black hair was pulled behind the golden laurel crown he wore. “You’re every bit the goddess they say you are.”

“I am Isis.” She said simply, her own eyes resting on his face without any difficulty at all. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I’ve been speaking with your master ship builder about Egyptian techniques and was fascinated by what I was told. In Rome, ostentatious displays of royalty are obviously taboo, though they are…less controversial these days. The idea of sailing down the river in front of a great city in a pleasure barge was attractive to me. And, as Rome and Egypt are to be allies once again…I request for you to join me, and we can share our differing cultural ideas on pleasure itself.”

“Well then, I look forward to showing you what Egypt has to offer,” she moved closer to him, her body almost touching his but not quite; the threat of contact was very much there, but tantalizingly withheld, “and to sharing many pleasures with you, great Caesar.”

Andrei extended his hand to her, the silver and gold gauntlets making a decorative display of his powerful forearms. Palm branches were splayed in the air in a pathway to the barge by waiting slaves. He accepted her hand and the two of them walked together down the dock slowly. He stepped onto the barge first and then helped her up after. They stood by a brass brazier with a fire burning inside which matched one of the same kind on the other side of the barge. They walked under the crimson curtains of the golden canopy into the pleasantly scented space where the cushioned red bed lay.

“Comfort is crucial to pleasure some say.” he said, gesturing for her to go first. “Then again, I always find pain can be just as exquisite.”

“I prefer them in equal measure.” She said as she sat down on the edge of the bed to slide out of her sandals. With ease and grace, she pulled her legs up and then shifted her body around to stretch out in the bed. She moved in such a way that threatened to allow him a glimpse of her concealed skin, but it never happened; it was clear the temptation had been deliberate. She looked up at him from the bed, her beautiful body on display for him covered in the finery he had picked out.

“Just enough pain applied by a loving hand is true bliss.”

“ Then perhaps I should have ordered your men to fashion a bed of marble.” He said with a grin, sitting down and removing his sandals one at a time as well. “It would certainly keep us awake.”

He crawled back onto the bed beside her and came to rest on his side, mere inches away from her. The desire to touch was obvious, and after showing her his devotion multiple times during the day without taking anything for himself, the bottom of his toga was nearly betraying him. He laid on his side, making the protrusion seem almost like the natural folding of fabric. Shirtless Egyptian guards turned in to face them with stony expressions and stood still and silent as the barge began to move. A male and female slave approached with two wooden bowls filled with fruit.

“Would Master and Mistress like to be fed?”

“Yes.” Lyra confirmed, though her gaze remained on her lover. Her beautiful lips lifted in just a slight smirk and she extended a single finger to touch the breastplate he still wore.

“Do you fear being in my bed, Great Caesar, that you would keep your armor on?”

“Beautiful women are masters of deception. And you are more beautiful than all the rest.” He said, opening his mouth and letting the female slave slide a date into his mouth. He chewed slowly. “What does that say about your work with a dagger then?”

She leaned back from him then and onto one of the large, overstuffed pillows as the male slave leaned in to feed her a fig. She enjoyed it in silence, looking out of the barge and to the Nile and its surrounding banks. “You do not need to fear me, I owe you much after all. Without you, my usurper brother would still have my crown.”

She reached out to him then, tracing her fingertips down his cheek. “You are safe here with me.”

“This is also what the men who belonged to your brother said right before they murdered Pompey Magnus.” he said, allowing the woman to feed him another bite. He chewed and looked at her, then lifted his eyebrows and stood. He removed the metal clasp that held the crimson cape on him and handed the garment to the female slave. He then unfastened the metal armor and set it down on the surface of the barge. He removed his laurel crown also, and put it down. He stood in an ornate white garment with gilded fringes. He climbed back into the bed and looked at her. “Now, what will you take off for me?”

She had watched with interest as he had removed his armor, her hungry dark gaze roaming over his body even shrouded by the white garment concealing him from her. She accepted another fig and a cup of wine which she held in one hand. At his question, she lifted her brows and took another drink from the cup she held, then set it aside so that she could use that hand to remove the ornate bangles from her other wrist. She set them to the side and resumed her position on the pillow.

“I was not responsible for Pompey’s death.”

“I’m aware. I remember when you were brought to me in racks, stuffed in a sack and thrown over a huge man’s back.” He recalled, accepting his own glass of wine. “But Rome will remember that Egypt killed a Consul. And you are Egypt now, are you not?”

His eyes followed her toned, perfectly smooth leg to the place where her clothing rudely interrupted it, and he stared for a time.

“I am.” She replied and put her wine down. “Let us not pretend that you did not wish to see the man dead for his transgressions. Your tears may fool your people, but they would not fool me.”

“The murder of a consul of Rome is a tragedy and a shame. The people who did it will have to be punished.” He said, deadpan. “Egypt has stabbed Rome, now Rome must stab Egypt. That’s why I remain with you, Your Majesty. You must be impaled for your sins.”

“Must I?” She asked, the slightest hints of a smile on her lips and picked up her wine again. “Tell me of your victory over my brother?”

“It was a long process, as you know, but when Mithridates of Pergamum joined his forces with my Legions, all we had to do was force your brother and his rag-tag army into the river. Around where we sit actually, he fell off his horse and drowned.” He answered with a grin. He sipped his wine and then handed it to the female slave, then leaned over to her. “Leaving you Queen, of course.”

“He always was a clumsy, useless boy.” She smirked and didn’t move as he leaned over to him. “Perhaps instead of this stabbing you wish to do, I can offer something that I know the great Caesar still lacks but desires desperately?”

“I have all of Rome, Your Majesty. What else could I desire?” He asked, his grin devilish as he looked into her eyes.

Lyra knew that even in play, what she was about to do was a risk; in this instance though, there was very much historical precedent to hide behind, and they did like to keep things authentic. She leaned in closer, her red stained lips nearly touching his. “You have all of Rome, but I have something only a woman can give.”

Her lips moved to his ear and he could smell her scent laced into the wig she wore. “Let me give you a son.”

Was it an offer from Cleopatra to Caesar, or was it something more? It was hard to discern from the way she spoke the words.

His face barely changed. The only obvious alteration to his form was the obvious stirring beneath the white garment between his legs.

“I see.” He said, his voice low and intrigued. His hand made contact with her thigh and paused there. “A son and heir for me, a son and heir for you. An excellent business proposition.”

She noted his reaction - or really lack thereof - immediately and kept her face neutral. She pulled back to look into his eyes. “Yes, I thought so. If the gods bless us, perhaps you might even be presented with the babe before we are done with this tour. Would that suit you to make up for the loss of Pompey?”

“Think that sounds like excellent compensation. I’m especially intrigued by the process, if I’m to be honest.” He said, raising his hand on her thigh and squeezing sharply, enough to cause a hit of change.

Lyra inhaled at the squeeze on her thigh, and a small smirk curled onto her perfect lips. “Well, we do have a certain way of doing things in Egypt, you know. Perhaps you need lessons on how to properly perform the task at hand?”

“Believe me, Your Majesty. I’m perfectly aware.” He answered, and his hand slid up to the white fabric that hid her womanhood.

She grabbed his wrist, flexing her strength into her grip to where it would have caused discomfort if not a moment of outright pain. Her intense dark eyes met his, challenging. “You know the Roman way. Are we not here to share new experiences?”

He paused, but didn’t pull his hand back immediately, masking the flash of annoyance at being stopped. The pain itself barely registered. He wasn’t sure how new it could be considering, but he would play along. It was her birthday, and he knew she had something in mind. He pulled his hand back and smiled.

“Cultural exchange is our purpose here.” He said. “How do the Egyptians make babies?”

Lyra knew her beloved well enough to know that even if he didn’t show it, he didn’t like it when he was stopped, but she also knew he would stop. She leaned in to kiss him, soft and teasing at first, but each subsequent kiss became more passionate and wanting. Her hands came to his shoulders and she guided him onto his back on the plush bed. A few more kisses and she finally pulled back. Her fingers moved under the collar necklace she was wearing and she untied the tie underneath that was holding the top of her dress. It tumbled down, revealing her gorgeous large breasts to him. A few more kisses delivered, and then she moved her body up and up more, until he was suddenly veiled in a flash of white fabric and felt the softness of her thighs against his head. He could see the object of his desire quite plainly, though it was certainly not presented to him in the way he would have liked right then.

She lowered herself down and he could feel her knees against his shoulders and then the feeling of her hands on his powerful, sculpted thighs and then the lifting of the fabric concealing him from her. With his own offering revealed, she set to work eagerly with her hands and mouth on him. He wasn’t to be left out any longer.

Though the slaves sat and turned their gazes toward the beauty of the Nile, the guards never stopped their vigil of their queen, watching as she united with the master of the Roman Empire in a distinctly strange and foreign way for them. Their garments flared out in front of them as a display of their own interest.

Beneath her, Andrei’s strong hands gripped her legs and held her in place as he used tongue and lips, and even the surfaces of his face to tease the wetness he had earned through a day’s worth of work. He found her as immediately ready as she found him, and soon she was making moans and grunts of pleasure against his manhood. He twitched with excitement, but maintained his composure.

Lyra worked him with skill and ease; they were entwined so often it would have been impossible for her to not have learned what delighted him, but she had been an eager student to begin with. Her tongue and lips tantalized him and she could hear and feel the sounds he made in response to her efforts - they were quiet but present. Once she had him to the point she felt he truly wanted her, perhaps needed her, she lifted her hips from him and moved her body down. Sitting up on his hips, she straddled him and took hold of his manhood, guiding him into her core with ease.

Her hands planted on his strong thighs and she began to work herself down on him by slowly rolling her hips like a dancer. She was facing away which was quite unusual for them, but gave him a view of her back and the distinct line of her spine. That magnificent rear of hers was still covered by the offending fabric of her skirt.

After hours of waiting through that day, Andrei’s responses were enthusiastic and eager. The fact that she was veiled only heightened the sense of mystery surrounding her, and the beautiful queen was as skilled in her motions as he was gifted in body. He lost himself in her quite dramatically, but despite the initial over sensitivity that followed, he prompted her to keep going and the two of them made love that way as the barge sailed lazily down the Nile, the envy of every woman and man.

The two remained engaged in such a fashion for quite a while, taking short breaks when needed for Andrei’s body to recover but otherwise thoroughly exploring the pretense of “cultural exchange” in this fantasy Andrei had conjured up for them. Eventually though, it had all fallen away, and they were left the two of them in bed where the only remnant of their costumes was Lyra’s makeup. Andrei had no more to give, and Lyra was deeply satisfied. He was on his back and Lyra was cuddled up tightly to his side; her head was on his shoulder, her hand was on his chest, and his fingers were idly running through her long brown hair which they had loosed from its binding braids at some point during their union.

“Is that how it’s done in Egypt then?” He asked, his voice sounding tired. Every moment had been wonderful, of course, and it seemed they were both quite happy as the warm breeze wafted in. “It’s not too different from the Roman way.”

“No, we are not so different.” She replied with a low voice that reflected her fulfillment and then kissed his chest. “Though I believe I demand more of your body than a Roman would.”

“That’s certainly true.” He remarked with a grin as he looked down at her. The slaves returned to their sides with their bowls, but Andrei looked down at Lyra with a curious expression. “Does the fruit suit you, or would you like something more substantial?”

“Mm… perhaps something a bit more now. I worked up quite an appetite after riding such a fine Roman stallion.” She leaned up to kiss him and then shifted off of his chest, though still lay right next to him. “What does the great Caesar have planned for us?”

“A local delicacy, Your Majesty. I think you’ll enjoy it.” He said with a particularly mischievous grin as he gave a signal to the slave to turn the barge back to the banks. “Unfortunately, we will need to dress again though.”

“Mmm… I suppose if we must.” Lyra chuckled and moved off of the bed, obviously not really put off by needing to dress despite her words. She motioned the slaves over and they immediately set to work getting her dressed once more which she seemed to enjoy being done for her.

Andrei watched with silent interest as Lyra enjoyed being dressed by the slaves. The royal treatment was clearly something she liked as far as he could tell, and he had to admit it suited her. He watched with care as her beautiful breasts were shrouded by white fabric once again and the wig, the gold, and the jewelry were put back into place.

“Now I just want to rip it all back off again.” He said, standing up naked and giving a signal to the slaves that he was next. The woman brought over a bucket of water and a rag and started to wash him gently. Andrei chuckled and looked at Lyra. “A rare honor to wash the dictator’s dick, isn’t it?”

He watched as the slave did exactly that, raising her eyebrows as she lifted the heavy appendage between his legs and washed it thoroughly. He eyed Lyra as the woman finished that task and the male slave approached with the white garment that went under his armor.

“I think I like it here in Egypt.”

“Well, Egypt welcomes the great Caesar with open legs… I mean arms.” She grinned deviously at Andrei and slid the last of the bangle bracelet onto her wrist when they were presented to her by one of the subservient slaves. Once he was dressed, she slowly sashayed back over to him and drew near; she said nothing, but looked into his eyes with an expectant curiosity.

Andrei chuckled and leaned down to kiss her, his hands slipping under her white garment and resting on her plump bottom. He felt the barge bump gently against the dock they had been heading for and saw the movement of the soldiers that made it clear that all was ready for them to exit.

“After you.” Andrei said, pointing to a roomy covered carriage draped in white and gold cloth being pulled by strong oxen held together with yokes and chains of brass and gold. “I believe the inside is quite comfortable, which is good because the ride back to the palace is lengthy. We may have to find some way to entertain ourselves.”

“Well, we rarely have trouble doing that.” She noted and moved to the carriage. Settling herself in it easily, she pushed the draped fabric to the side just slightly with the back of her hand and peered out at Andrei. Her dark eyes were intense and alluring, calling for him to join her without words.

Andrei climbed inside and settled onto the fine cloth and plump cushions. He reclined on his side, wishing he had kept his armor off. He reached around for the clasps again, licking his lips. Finally, the armor popped free and he pulled it off over his head.

“No longer afraid of a dagger in your belly?” She teased, waiting until he was settled to draw close to him again. “I’m not sure if I should be offended or charmed.”

“I’m sure I’ve proven my ongoing value in more than one way thus far based on your responses on the barge.” He said with a grin. “I’m very talented at making myself invaluable all over the world.”

“Well, you certainly learned of the value and stamina of Egypt on the barge.” She noted and reclined back on the pillows of the carriage. The thin, translucent fabric gave hints of her body underneath it and despite knowing it so well at this point, there was an aspect of mystery that lent itself to making it alluring.

“Tell me about some of your adventures.”

He eyed her with a grin, reaching out and touching her garment. If he moved it in a certain way, it would expose her hidden parts. He refrained from doing so, however.

“I assume you’ve heard of my conquest of Gaul?”

“I have heard of it, but not the details.” She replied, not denying his touch this time. She had kept just a small part of the fabric covering her lower half between her legs to keep it from fluttering open and exposing herself, but it wasn’t enough to offer any resistance to his hand.

“Well, many great battles were fought and won, but the one that comes to my mind first took place five years ago. During the winter the Gallic leaders had plotted in secret to remove my legions from their lands and the ragtag band united behind one man; Vercingetorix.” He said, and started an engaging tale about a long-term siege of a Gallic city full of hardship, and violence, and trickery. He told it well, displaying his encyclopedic knowledge of the events, even from a first person perspective.

Lyra attentively listened to Andrei as he spoke. While she had passing familiarity with what he was speaking about, she didn’t know all of the details that her beloved did and truthfully even if she had, she would have enjoyed his telling regardless. She knew Andrei enjoyed demonstrating his intelligence in this way and obviously, he always enjoyed the rapt attention of an audience even if it was just her. She was quiet outside of the occasional question prompting him for more details, but remained engaged and present with him simply by resting her hand on his side as they lay face to face.

“The life of Cleopatra VII is obviously a vibrant and interesting one. I haven’t met a man who didn’t want you nor a woman who didn’t envy you.” Andrei said, lifting the fabric for the first time for a sneak peak and looking at her inviting womanhood with desire and obvious interest. After a few seconds, he lowered it again and focused on her face once more. “Tell me some story of your life in return for mine?”

The other benefit of having had Lottie tend to her was she had time to do a little more in depth research about the character Andrei had presented her to play with. She considered the question for a moment, and then smiled. “Well, I have no great military triumph to share as you do, but when I was newly ascended to the throne there was a near immediate crisis to be dealt with. My dearly departed brother of course could not be bothered seeing to it, so the burden fell to me. As you know the Nile is the lifeblood of Egypt and we rely on the annual inundation to sustain our society; the year we rose to power, the floods failed to come. I was only eighteen and inexperienced, but something had to be done.”

She continued on, explaining to Andrei how Cleopatra had gone about dealing with the crisis by feeding the populace out of the royal granaries which endeared her to her people and then followed that with tax relief and resource redistribution locally at first and then negotiated with nearby rulers for trade agreements to make sure her people wouldn’t starve. She spoke of how she went out among her people and demonstrated a new, more hands-on leadership style that showed them her care and concern. Despite her youth and inexperience, she had guided her people through a potentially catastrophic event with grace and poise, showing her ability to be a strong and reliable leader.

Andrei listened as intently to her as she had to him, and even managed to keep her clothes on the entire time. He didn’t know the account she was giving as he wasn’t well versed in the royal record of Cleopatra. He listened with all the interest of a dedicated student of history, nodding at certain places to indicate a particular desire to hear more. As she finished, the carriage came to a stop and the cloth was drawn back, letting in the bright Egyptian sun.

“These men will take us to your festival chamber. We will enjoy our meal there.” Andrei said, gesturing at the exit. “After you, of course.”

This time, Lyra didn’t move and instead rested her cheek in her hand as she regarded him. “You know, in Egypt, it is customary for a man to escort a woman he has an interest in and help her out of carriages himself. He wouldn’t want a slave to do it.”

“I would assume it would be improper for any man to go before a queen. But, then again, Roman pride cannot be forgotten.” He said, and slid out of the carriage before her as requested. Once outside, he extended his hand for her. He would need to fix his outfit, but that could wait.

“You do not go before me.” Lyra pointed out before taking his hand and when she took it, she slid out of the carriage and into his arms, drawing him into a passionate kiss. “We go together as one. As the gods intend a man and woman.”

“That would make me a king, would it not?” He asked with a lifted brow, his lips still hovering close to hers, his hands on her waist as if it didn’t matter who saw. “Don’t let my people hear it.”

“Emperor suits you more.”

She kissed him again, her arms lingering around him a moment more, then finally she pulled back to wait for him to offer to escort her to where they were going.

After taking a moment to dress again, with the help of a slave, he took her arm and his, and they started through the gates, and into the courtyard of Cleopatra’s palace. Soon, the past a bunch of conversing officials and visiting citizens and turned into an ornate hallway. After following it, for a few moments, they came to a room with a high ceiling, and a short table surrounded by braziers. The table was small, but made for reclining, and seemed to be part of a floor pallet or bed of sorts.

“I've worked up quite the appetite, my Queen.”

“Well, I wouldn’t see you leave unsatisfied in any respect, great Caesar.” Lyra replied and squeezed his arm while looking with interest at the table. When they approached, she accepted his assistance to lower herself down and waited for him to do the same. She was quite interested to see what he had up his sleeve; from his expressions and words earlier, she imagined it might be something quite unique.

“Crocodiles are a delicacy here, I’ve heard.” He said, crawling down to the cushions around the table and reclining. “The crocodiles I’ve found are…quite rare. In fact, after a recent act of ours, they’re an endangered species. Just a few thousand of them left.”

Lyra caught on immediately, her brows lifting slightly and showing an even keener interest now. “I see. Is that what you have planned for us to enjoy?”

“It is. The hunt was…invigorating, if you remember. I had some of the meat preserved, just in case.” Andrei answered. “Nothing says inferior species like being on the dinner menu.”

“Did you now? How thoughtful.” She smiled and reached out to touch his hand. Eating the lesser species was not something Lyra had much experience with nor had she really had a keen interest. It had simply not been something present in either chapter of her life, so the thought rarely entered her mind. It would be something new for the both of them, and she very much enjoyed finding new things to experience by her beloved’s side.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Andrei clapped and the golden door opened. Slaves entered with covered gifts. They placed them carefully on the table, moving in unison, poured them glasses of wine, and then left promptly. He uncovered the first one and revealed tender pieces of meat on a bed of rice and vegetables.

“Numiri live to serve. I’m eager to watch you eat it.”

She took a moment to inspect the dish and then moved one of the smaller plates forward so she could take a few spoonfuls of the rice and vegetables as well as a couple pieces of meat. Considering he had said he wanted to watch her, she didn’t wait for him to serve herself this time and instead used her fork and knife to cut one of the pieces of meat into thirds, then picked up one of them to eat by itself. She chewed thoroughly, considering the flavor and texture, then swallowed.

“It is interesting. Gamey, in a way like wild meat which I suppose is rather fitting considering, but I like the flavor.”

Andrei watched her with a smile, and received her evaluation of the meat with interest. He reached to spoon food onto his plate and gave it a try himself. “It’s less salty than I thought it would be. But I agree; a good taste.”

“I wonder how it might be cured.” Lyra mused. “It has that bit of acidic bite just at the end that’s very interesting, though I can’t decide if it tastes more like chicken or pork in general. What do you think?”

“Oh pork, definitely.” Andrei answered before enjoying the combination with the flavors of the rice and veggies. “It’s got me wondering what Banean tastes like.”

“Well, if it retains the gamey sort like the Numiri do, I’d guess maybe quail.” She noted thoughtfully and then took another bite, not bothered by the eating of the other species in the slightest. She wondered what she had been missing out on with some of the alpha quadrant species; perhaps she could find out when they returned.

“I don’t have much experience with eating sentient species myself.” He admitted. “As you know, it’s illegal currently. The Orsini think it’s..barbaric and turns Terrans into animals. I think it’s…totally appropriate.”

“I’ve never done this, so it’s quite new to me.” She revealed with a smile. “A lovely surprise for my birthday to share something new with you.”

“Anything for you, Love.” He said, and leaned over to kiss her thigh slowly and lovingly.

Lyra smiled and licked her lips, his kiss electrifying still despite their rather exhausting exertions not long before. She reached out to touch his jaw, tracing the defined line there, and then she looked at the other present. “You have another surprise still though, I see.”

“I do.” He said, kissing her thigh again and looking at her. “But it’s for dessert.”

“More dessert? Well, I thoroughly enjoyed my cream filled delight on the barge.” It was delivered simply and almost innocently, but the devious, licentious glint in her dark eyes communicated the joke quite clearly.

“And I enjoyed my honey pot.” He said with a smile just as hungry as it had been earlier. He kissed her thigh again, a bit higher this time.

“What, do you need a different kind of drink with your dinner, Darling?” Lyra asked with joking concern in her tone and eyes. She placed her hand on the fabric and slowly started to shift it to the side; she understood now why Andrei had given her something to wear that kept her totally accessible to him - she wondered if that had been the plan all along, or if it had changed during the day when he had got himself all riled from pleasing her while taking nothing.

“Wine somehow doesn’t compare.” He said, his voice low and the breath from his mouth warm on her skin. He pulled her fit legs open aggressively, no longer acquiescing to the passive role he had played earlier. “Enjoy your food.” He said, and then he put his face between her thighs finding a rhythm straight away.

His insistence had momentarily surprised her, but then enamored her; she enjoyed he was willing to let her take the lead once in a while, but still preferred to let him do that most of the time. She found a position where she could continue to eat, though realistically only managed another couple of bites before he became much too distracting where he was. Her fingers found his hair and her lips parted to praise him for his efforts. When he had finally had his fill of her that way, she coaxed him up insistently so that she could kiss him deeply.

He kissed her back with equal passion as he gathered the cloth of his costume up to reveal himself. With their meal totally forgotten, he moved inside her, his large manhood meeting the tightness of her body. They made love on the cushions by the table and sang their songs together. There was nothing but love between them, expressed aggressively and with tenderness. When he finally finished, his hand cupped her breast and played with her there and both of their clothes were wet and less than royal in their condition.

“Sometimes I wonder why we even bother with these.” Lyra half chuckled, half purred with a voice thick as honey from her pleasure. She reached underneath the necklace she wore and pulled the tie which held the front of her dress so she could offer her bare breasts to him. She knew how much he enjoyed them not only in these moments, but as objects of simple comfort to him.

He grabbed her breast readily, possessive and loving, and collapsed onto her, though he shielded her from the full force of his weight with the position of his body. His head found a place on her chest, turning her bare breast into a pillow. For a moment, the strong conqueror was docile, comfortable, and calm as a babe in her arms.

Lyra wrapped her arms around him, her fingers finding and playing with his hair while he lay on top of her just to bask in the afterglow. She allowed her dark eyes to close halfway and seemed very content to remain just like that. With him lying so close to her, he could hear the slightly quickened beat of her heart below her breast, steady and comforting in its own way.

He rested inside her and softened, and they were like two halves of a puzzle fit perfectly together. Their beautiful bodies seemed made for each other, sculpted out of marble. Andrei stirred after several minutes then looked up at her.

“You stopped eating.”

“Mm… silly me.” She purred almost lazily and shifted one arm from his body to scoop up another bite of food to eat and then scooped up another to offer to him while he lay against her.

He opened his mouth and accepted the bite, chewing slowly and looking into her eyes. When he finished the bite, he scooped another for the two of them himself.

Lyra was content to remain as she was and feed herself while he did so as well, but when he dropped a few grains of rice down on her other breast while pulling one of his bites over, she smirked and looked at him. “Well, clean up your mess.”

“Yes, my queen.” He said with a grin, and licked the grains off of her breast slowly before allowing his tongue to find her nipple. He played with it for several seconds, gentle and skilled before he smiled at her. “If I stay any longer at all, we’ll be in for round three.”

“Mmm do you count all of our time on the barge as one round?” She asked teasingly, tracing his jaw with a finger. “One very long… hard round that had you completely spent?”

“Yes, I do. But around you, I seem to find new energy.” He answered with a smile, before removing himself from her, his half-hard member a sign he wasn’t joking about being ready for more. “Shall we skip to the dessert? I mean something beyond the cream filled confection.”

Lyra eyed him a moment as if she were carefully weighing the proposition of skipping out on such a treat, then smiled and kissed his lips in a brief peck. “Well, you know I do have a sweet tooth. What do you have for us, Darling?”

“I don’t know what Banean’s taste like, but their eggs make for fitting ingredients.” He said, and opened the dish. On it was a round cake drizzled in thick white icing. “It’s a pound cake, Love. In honor of today’s festivities.”

She laughed immediately at the joke, shaking her head and giving his thigh a firm squeeze as she sat up a bit more from her reclining position. “I actually didn’t know they laid eggs… like chickens?”

“Yes, but their fucking gigantic. And, believe me, they don’t like giving them up. The father of this particular bouncing baby bird got his head split open for standing in my way.” He said, a look of pride in his eyes as he took the small, ornate dagger sitting next to the cake in the pan and cut into it slowly.

“Well, he should have known better.” Lyra smirked, watching him cut the cake and her eyes lingering on the dagger. “I wonder though perhaps if that might make them good breeding slaves. If their eggs can be shoved into incubators like a chicken, they can keep working and we can have a new generation of compliant slaves to serve our sons.”

She spoke without any hesitation nor with the careful consideration she usually would have. She realized what she had said immediately after she had said it, but did not react to it in any way.

Andrei looked at her with interest, his own reaction unclear beneath his cryptic expression.

“Well, Love. If you want strong sons to rule after us, you’re going to need to fill up on pound cake.” He said, and offered her a bite from his fork.

“Gladly, Darling.” Lyra chuckled, noting his lack of reaction once more. She wasn’t bothered by it, but she was aware of it. She took the bite off of his fork slowly, letting her lips part in a slow and suggestive way and then slowly pulled the morsel off the tines of the fork. She chewed thoughtfully and then gave a nod. “Well, they aren’t the most physically apt species, but at least their eggs can be made into an exquisite cake. I wonder what else we could do with them. I know you enjoy a good omelet.”

“I’m sure it could be. If they prove to be delicious enough, we can use them as a replenishing source of food, as you said.” Andrei reiterated. The idea of using women for breeding purposes and then eating their children didn’t seem to phase him at all. “It sounds like we have breakfast plans soon.”

“Yes, it does.” Lyra agreed. They continued to eat the dessert while still mostly entwined with each other and spoke more of food ideas and other playful banter. Eventually, they were done and Lyra stretched on the pillow behind her. “Mmm… this was all delicious. Thank you, Darling.”

“I wanted you to know how special you are.” He said with a smile. He picked up the dagger he had used to cut the cake and handed it to her ornate hilt first. “I thought you could use a hunting knife as well.”

Her eyes lit up when he presented her with the gift and she took hold of the hilt, waiting the half beat for him to withdraw his hand completely before she brought it closer for inspection. As she did so, she scooted closer to him. Andrei found she often communicated being pleased by something through physical touch more than words.

“Oh, and there’s something else.” He said, clapping his hands and then placing his arm around her. The door opened again and a guard brought in a long piece of metal, black and shiny with a blade on the end the color of blood and a crown of emeralds on the pole beneath it.

Lyra had been quite distracted inspecting the small blade, but when the guard entered she looked up and was immediately taken with curiosity. She didn’t move, but instead lifted her hands toward the guard so that he could bring over the new gift and place it in her hands.

“Oh how lovely.” She all but cooed in approval, her fingertips moving over the emeralds and eventually to the point of the spear. Perhaps they weren’t the most practical things to use, but they were certainly beautiful and just as deadly, two qualities she very much loved.

“Give it a try.” He said, gesturing to the guard who frowned, slightly worried that the suggestion was she try it out on him. “She can change the balance if you’d like.”

For just a second, Lyra seemed a bit torn about getting up from her comfortable spot nestled into him, but eventually she stood so she could get an actual feel for the spear. She moved it in her hands with ease and skill, flourishing it with impressive spins and quick movements that utilized it both as a staff and spear. She swung the back of the spear around, threatening to strike the guard in the side of the face but stopping just before she did.

“It is perfectly balanced for me, Darling.”

“I used one of your others as a model and made changes to account for the different material and the gems. “ Andrei said proudly as he watched her. “Soldier, how does your queen handle her spear?”

“She is a master, great Caesar..” the man said, his breathing speeding up as he looked from Andrei to Lyra. “Like she was born to it.”

Truthfully though they had been together for nearly half a year, Lyra had never put on a true display of her skills for Andrei; he had never asked and it was not something she offered up. Of course he’d had glimpses of it when they worked on honing his own skills with the unfamiliar weapon, but little past that.

“Well, it isn’t the only spear I have skill in handling.” She smirked and looked over her shoulder at Andrei. “I think you quite enjoy that one too.”

“True. True.” He said, watching her every move and observing her form in the obviously soiled garment she was wearing. “I would like to see that again too.”

Lyra handed the spear off to the guard and then immediately turned and leapt on top of Andrei. She sat above him, straddling his hips and wielding the dagger. “Mm… I need to test this too.”

She grabbed hold of his costume that was concealing his body from her and hooked the tip into the top, slowly starting to slice down. “How clean…”

“It’s made out of a strong Vidian metal I found on that moon.” He said, watching as she wielded the dagger so close to his skin. “Virtually indestructible and light as a feather. I regret I couldn’t get more at the time.”

His hands found her hips and played at her soft skin. He started to harden beneath her again. It seemed the only thing that kept them off of each other was a busy work schedule.

“It is wonderful, Darling.” Lyra purred. The blade was so sharp that there really wasn’t even a sound of tearing fabric to go along with it as she cleanly opened the offending garment and left his pale, muscular body completely exposed to her. Her opposite hand planted on his chest and she brought the pointed tip of the blade to rest on his pec. She held his gaze, a smirk appearing on that beautiful face of hers.

“How will your clothes survive?”

“I can get more.” He said quietly, his eyes locked on hers. As they gazed at each other, the soldier bowed quickly and then turned to leave.

“Don’t bother.” She put the dagger aside then and leaned down to kiss him deeply and passionately. “You’re mine for today and I want you just like this.”

After a few more minutes in the holodeck, the two of them use the transporter to go back to Andrei‘s quarters, considering there are multiple sessions of lovemaking had destroyed both of their costumes. After arriving, naked and showering together, they emerged from the bedroom in comfortable clothing.

“It’s time to open your final gift.” Andrei said, pointing to the gift wrapped present by the outside wall. He simply wore a pair of gray sweatpants with nothing underneath.

“I’d almost forgotten.” Lyra chuckled and walked over to the wrapped gift. She herself was wrapped in one of her red silk robes and was wearing a pair of matching lacy panties underneath. Obviously, she wasn’t expecting to remain clothed and had decided to spare her wardrobe a violent ending by Andrei’s hands. She placed a hand on the wrapping and slid it up to the blue bow which she pulled open and let the ribbon flutter down to the sides and then after a moment of eyeing the paper, she popped it open with near tactical precision to reveal the gift underneath.

Under the wrapping was a strangely shaped item made of pale wood and a white plastic material which was unidentifiable, but an egg-shaped pod on top which moved seamlessly down into a kind of stand. At the base of the open stand were three pedals and an obvious stool sat in front of it.

“ I can move it to your quarters if you prefer, but you spend most of your time here, so I thought this might be best.” He said, his hand resting on her waist.

Lyra blinked several times as she watched everything with a curious glint in her eyes. It was a strangely innocent look for her. She noticed the pedals and the stool and extracted herself from Andrei’s side to sit down on it. With a light touch on the flat top of the object, she watched as it opened to reveal a full sized piano. She smiled then, bright and sweet and looked up to her beloved. He’d obviously remembered the off handed comment she had made some months ago about wishing she could play more but regretting she had to go to the holodeck to do it.

Her eyes moved back down and she touched the keys, finding it perfectly in tune already. “Thank you, Andrei. It’s perfect.”

“I’m glad you love it.” He said with a rather proud smile. “If I may; I wrote you a song.”

“You did?” She asked, genuinely surprised and it showed as she looked up at him.

He nodded. “Just a little something to celebrate your special day. Stand up and I’ll show you.”

She moved out of his way so he could sit down and once he was settled, she stood behind him and placed one hand on his shoulder. Naturally, she stood quite close to him, but not close enough to interfere with his ability to play.

Andrei wasn’t as skilled a pianist as she was, having focused most of his energy on strings and the voice when he was growing up, but he still had sufficient mastery of the piano to play well even in a concert setting with some practice. He started a piece with a series of orientation chords that were consonant and established the piece as a light one which would likely be soft and soothing. Within a few moments, he transitioned into the main theme of the piece. It was a soaring Melody with a perfectly complementary countermelody atop complexly arpégiated chords. It clearly came from the mind of a string player and seemed to almost sing itself if lyrics were attached.

Lyra was quiet and still as she listened to Andrei play his composition for her; she wondered how long he had been working on it and when - he’d never practiced when she was around of course. It was a truly moving piece and showed his feeling in a way that he simply did not express otherwise. When he finally drew the song to its close and the last notes reverberated through the room, she leaned down to tenderly kiss his neck and whisper into his ear.

“I love you.” The three words didn’t pass their lips often to each other; they preferred to show their love in other ways, but it was that very fact that kept the words when they were actually spoken truly meaningful.

“I love you too.” He said, leaning his head down on her arm as she hugged him. She smelled of her soap and lotion after their shower, and he enjoyed that for a few seconds before he stood. “Did you like It?”

“It was beautiful, Darling. I loved it.” She leaned up to kiss his lips once more, one hand finding his hip. “Would you like to play something with me?”

She gestured to his violin sitting in its case behind his desk.

“Yes, sure. If you’d like that.” He said with a smile, going over to retrieve it. He took it out of the case and immediately set to work tuning the beautiful instrument one string at a time. Since it was well made and he was skilled as well as blessed with perfect pitch, it was easy and quick. “What did you have in mind?”

“Do you know this one?” Lyra took the seat again and placed her fingers on the keys. With practiced ease, she coaxed out the first few chords of Borowski’s Adoration and then looked over to Andrei.

“I’m sure I’ve heard it before. The question is, do I remember?” He asked, but the second he set his bow to the string, the genuine melody came forth in a way that it was clear the song lived somewhere in his memory.

With a smile, she joined him in the song. It was a beautiful piece meant for the violin and the piano together and one that demanded a high level of skill from each of the performers. They played beautifully together - a feat that seemed to come naturally to them in so many aspects of their lives. They worked together, neither overpowering the other; Andrei’s violin soared while the piano offered a stable ground until the brief moment where it was her turn to play alone, the notes from the piano rising until they were once again joined by his violin. Andrei played out the end of the song with the single held note from his violin, and then there was quiet in their quarters once again.

She looked up at him and smiled. “I love to hear you play, Darling.”

“I feel the same about your playing.” he said, holding his violin and bow in one hand and placing the other on her shoulder. “One day, we should get an audience and share some of this classical Terran culture with them.”

“Perhaps we should. I’m sure there are enough others with such talents to make an event of such a thing.” She stood and turned to face him, looking into his eyes. “Or perhaps we will simply let them marvel at our brilliance alone, hm?”

“We should be the grand finale.” he said with a laugh before releasing her and moving to put the violin back. “Just think, now Kit has new noises to complain about.”

Lyra closed the piano and moved toward the bedroom door while Andrei put his violin away. She paused there, her figure standing out against the relative darkness within. “Let them complain.”

She undid the tie of her robe and shrugged it off of her shoulders but stopped it before it revealed anything else by holding it together between her breasts. Her head turned, and she looked over her shoulder with those dark, smoldering eyes. “Idi spat’, lyubimyy. YA khochu tebya.”

“My snova sdelayem eto po-vashemu.” he said, stepping toward her slowly, “No posle moyego dnya rozhdeniya tebe ponadobitsya invalidnaya kolyaska.”

“Net.” She turned to face him fully and let the robe slide off her beautiful figure, revealing her fit and curvy figure underneath. She looked every bit the powerful queen and opened her arms slightly to him. “Teper’ ya tvoy. Pridi i potrebuy menya.”

With a smile, Andrei surged forward and lifted his tall, fit woman as if she were light as a child. He tossed her mostly nude body over his bare shoulder like she was a prize woman born in war. He gripped her firm legs in his strong arms and walked confidently toward the bedroom.

“Hail the conquering general.” he said under his breath.

END
]]> Thu, 28 Nov 2024 06:37:52 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/834 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/834
Mission - S1 Episode 8: Resolutions
Location - XO's Quarters

It was a bit later than usual when Lyra finally stirred in bed and became immediately aware of the lack of warmth by her side and the fact she was holding a pillow in her arms to make up for it. It was unusual for her to not be up when Andrei would leave for the gym, but it happened now and again. She pressed her face into the pillow and breathed deeply of her lover, but there was something else seeping through the pillowcase that was familiar but she couldn’t place it right away. With a sleepy pout, she lifted her head to take a deep breath and immediately identified the scent as bacon and coffee - rarities for them in the morning as they tended to healthier and lighter fare on the usual. It took her tired brain a moment to figure out why they were indulging, but she eventually realized that it was her birthday. Like most personal things for her, birthdays were complicated and while it was a day she - like most anyone - wanted to feel like the most important person in the universe and be treated as such, but she knew better than to have any sort of expectation of that even now.

After a moment of mental negotiation with herself, Lyra finally shifted and sat up in bed. The warm, soft blanket she wrapped herself in fell from around her, sliding down her bare breasts and pooling into her lap. She made a near immediate sound of protest as the cold air of Andrei’s quarters reacted with her body, and she placed her hands over her nipples to cover them while she pulled herself out of the bed and went to the bathroom to do her business and make herself a bit more presentable. She spent only a few minutes there and wandered back out to the bedroom to pilfer one of Andrei’s t-shirts from his closet to wear over her silky black panties, slid into her fuzzy black slippers, and then finally shuffled out into the main living area.

“Morning, Darling.” She greeted him sleepily but warmly.

The scene that greeted her when she stepped out into the living room was rather different than it was the night before. The lights were dimmed and white Christmas lights had been neatly hung about the room on the walls and from the ceiling. A huge gift, covered in bright red wrapping paper and a blue bow, sat in the corner by the window. At the table, bowls and serving dishes with food had been sat out and Andrei was making adjustments to the placement of everything on the table. He wore black pants, a red button-up Oxford, and a black apron that said the words “Coma Minha Carne” on the front in big white letters. He looked up at her and smiled handsomely.

“Good morning, Love.” He said, then stepped confidently around the table, approaching her with his arms outstretched. “Happy Birthday.”

When she saw the spread laid out on the table, she woke up considerably and smiled which turned into a laugh when he turned around and she saw what was written on his apron. She moved to him and slid her arms around him while leaning up to give him a quick, sweet kiss.

“I feel underdressed.”

“We can fix that very easily.” He said, kissing her. His hands moved to his belt buckle, and his pants fell down to his feet right. He stepped out of them, leaving him in only his shirt, boxers, and the apron. “Is that better?”

“Mmm… yes.” She chuckled again and slid her arms down to his lower back, resting just above his hips. “All of this for me?”

“Of course. It’s a special day.” He said, gesturing to the meal. “I got the idea from the Brazilian foods database. Steak, bacon, plantains, and eggs in a bowl with a side of strawberries and toast. Heavier than we’re used to, but not enough to make us feel too heavy for our shift.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to eating your meat, Darling.” She kissed him again and reached down to give his rear a playful squeeze. When she turned her head, she noticed he had changed the windows from the views of Moscow to those of Rio instead. She wandered over a little closer, looking at the scenes that were somewhat familiar to her, but stirred far more feelings than outright memories. She smiled again while she lingered, then while she was turning back to him she saw the wrapped present out of the corner of her eye. She side eyed it a moment, then walked back over to Andrei and the table.

“Thank you. Everything looks delicious.”

He pulled out a chair for her and gave her a prideful grin. He wasn’t shy at all about the presentation, and despite he hadn’t done much cooking in his life, he seemed to have done a rather nice job.

“Not nearly as delicious as you..”

Lyra moved to sit down in the chair he had pulled out for her and scooted in closer to the table. “I haven’t had a breakfast like this for my birthday in a very long time. Usually it was pancakes or waffles or something that my brothers would like better.”

“Why not?” He asked curiously as he stepped to his chair and sat down next to her. He picked up his bowl and spooned steak, bacon, eggs, and plantains into it. “It was your day. Why were they getting what they wanted instead of you?”

“They were younger, really it was for Antony more than anything, but Raoul went along with it. It wasn’t a big issue, really, but it is very nice to have something made just for me.” She began to serve herself the other items, circling the table with him until they both had what they wanted to start with. Of course, her brothers being younger wasn’t the only reason, but she didn’t want to start such a lovely morning by delving into sour topics.

“Do we have other plans for today?”

“We do. A half hour after your shift, I’ll forward you a replicator file for your outfit. I have a feeling you’ll like it quite a lot.” Andrei said with a face that communicated certainty. “And then I can show you your gift over there.”

Lyra’s brows lifted, intrigued, but she knew she wouldn’t get any answers to her questions; this was meant to be a surprise, and his surprises hadn’t failed her yet. “I was thinking perhaps we should have a few gifts ready for your family when we finally retrieve them and maybe host a dinner to make up for the birthdays we miss?”

“That’s a nice thought. Did you have anything in mind for what to give them?” He asked, looking at her. Besides his food, she had all of his focus.

“I don’t know your mother or father well enough to know any of their likes or dislikes, really. Your father really never spoke to me outside of work and your mother is… well, your mother. I was thinking perhaps a few books for Mika, perhaps a pretty dress.” Lyra offered up and then took a sip of her coffee as she watched him to see his reaction.

“I’m normally not much of a gift giver, traditionally. It’s not something people expect from me. Truth be told, anything would probably be liked. But I’ll give it some serious thought.” Andrei said, speaking candidly and thinking on what each of them might like. He certainly knew enough to make them happy with gifts. “Mika would like a book. Something fictional and whimsical. My mother would like something beautiful and rare.”

“Well, the gifts could come from both of us or just me, if you’d be more comfortable with that.” She spoke gently to him and shifted her foot to rub the top of it playfully and affectionately along his strong calf. “What about your father?”

“I’d like to give gifts with you.” He said, his hands straying toward hers and resting atop it for a second. “My father would like something traditional, Russian, and Marshall; something he can put on the wall.”

“Do you think your mother might enjoy some crystal glassware? I picked some up on the trading post while you were away. I think it’s quite beautiful, but not everyone would enjoy such a gift.” Lyra mused, turning her hand over to gently squeeze his. The mention of the glassware made her thoughts drift to her other purchases and musings she had while she had been down in the markets and she considered sharing them with Andrei, but decided to not for now.

“Well didn’t you buy it for yourself, though?” He asked, eyeing her between bites. “I Can find something else without you having to give up your glassware, Love.”

“I did, but there would be other glassware.” Lyra shrugged her shoulders slightly. “I just don’t know when we would be somewhere else to pick out something rare and beautiful for her. I’d hate to get her something replicated.”

Andrei seemed to consider it for a brief moment and then shrugged.

“Well, if you’re alright with it. I wish we had a glass worker aboard. But I don’t think that’s in any job description in the Fleet.”

“No, though perhaps one of the slaves we acquired has some skill like that? I suppose I never thought to check really.” She mused and paused to sip the orange juice.

“It’s possible. I’ll ask around.” Andrei said, taking another bite. They sat, ate, and chatted for the next twenty minutes, eating enough to satisfy themselves without going overboard. Andrei was warm and quite attentive the entire time, and despite his normal state of mind, he seemed unconflicted about her birthday being about her. When it was over, he stood and started collecting dishes. He looked at her. “So, what did you think?”

“Everything was delicious, Darling. Thank you.” Lyra said and helped stack the dishes that remained so he wouldn’t have to make so many trips. She stood with the rest of her orange juice and walked over to the large wrapped object by the window to regard it thoughtfully while he finished cleaning up.

“You’re welcome.” He said, shuffling dishes over to the replicator and giving the remains back into their energy resources. He noticed her staring at the gift and gave a subtle smirk. “Maybe it’s a bomb.”

“Well, we were talking about renovations and opening up the space, but I think you may have it against the wrong wall.” She replied, feigning seriousness, then turned her head to smirk at him.

“I suppose munitions is your job around here, after all.” He remarked as he placed the last of the dishes in the replicator and turned away as they disappeared into nothing. Taking off the apron, he leaned into the bedroom and threw it into the dirty clothes bin to be taken care of by the slaves.

“Well, I am good at making certain things explode.” She purred suggestively and came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his middle and pressing up against him. “Very good at it, actually.”

She grinned and kissed his shoulder through his shirt, then slid past him into the bedroom to wander into the bathroom and start the shower for them.

“As am I..” he said, watching her walk toward the bathroom. He followed after her, stripping off his shirt and boxers as he went and tossing them into the dirty clothes. “I can remind you if your memory is a bit foggy.”

“Well, I always appreciate a refresher.” She said, watching him strip down until he was naked while she remained in her panties and his shirt, the fabric stretching over her gorgeous, pert breasts underneath. She hopped up onto the bathroom counter next to the sink, spreading her legs just enough where he could see an inch or so of the fabric between her powerful thighs.

Andrei looked her up and down, standing in front of her with his chiseled body, perfect except for the storied scars that ran along his torso. His mismatched eyes focused on her face for a few tense seconds.

“Well it’s a good thing. I don’t think I ate enough for breakfast.” He said, and then he got down on his knees and started his skilled art.

Lyra's hips lifted up for just a moment so he could free her from her silky covering and then settled back where she was sitting. As he leaned in and she felt his strong hands on her thighs and the warmth of his breath on her womanhood, her hands slid into his hair and she leaned back to close her eyes and simply enjoy his attentions. Perhaps this birthday wouldn't be so bad after all.

END
]]> Thu, 28 Nov 2024 06:27:42 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/811 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/811
Mission - Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location - The Pyramid

ON

Giana took one more look at herself in the mirror before dismissing it and taking her seat at the small dining table set up for them in one of the Emperor’s more private dining rooms used for hosting smaller gatherings. She was at one of the smaller round tables that had been set up for them, and a few serving staff were standing by waiting for both parties to be present. Khalon intrigued her and his willingness to help her had not gone unnoticed even if she was still waiting to know exactly what he was wanting in return. The fact he seemed to have some level of genuine interest and concern beyond his own interests was attractive to her in more ways than one. She tried not to dwell on her personal problems though and set her mind to the dinner at hand.

She had opted for a light blue cocktail dress; the color brought out her eyes and the beauty of her shining golden hair. It was a relatively modest cut outside of the slightly lower v-neck that just showed a hint of cleavage. The irregular hem skirt fluttered above and below her knee, and it was belted with a gold metallic band around her thin waist. She wore light touches of simple gold jewelry and understated makeup; she wasn’t trying to make this feel like a date.

Following their meeting, Khalon had left the Pyramid and went to his office in a nearby building. He attended several meetings over subspace communications to his advisors on Mars. Managing the affairs of an entire planet was no small matter, but he almost never discussed Business outside of his meetings.

The entire day, he had tried to keep the dinner off of his mind, knowing that dwelling on it for too long, we just throw him off his game. A few hours before the dinner, he sent one of his assistants to purchase a new outfit for the occasion, a suit with a black bow-tie with crimson Andorran velvet. After bathing, scenting himself until he smelled amazing, and stepping into his suit, he traveled to the Pyramid.

Khalon walked into the dining room behind one of Giana’s attendants, his eyes going to her and taking in her lovely appearance right away. He lingered on her quite shamelessly, and though he wasn’t exactly undressing her with his eyes, he may have been looking at her as if she were already naked.

When the doors opened, Giana moved to stand elegantly. She didn’t have to of course, but she preferred greeting people on her feet when she wasn’t actively trying to remind them of their place. Her own eyes moved over him; there was little more attractive on a man than a well-tailored suit like he was sporting. She could see he was looking at her too.

Smiling an expression that projected warmth and welcome, she gestured open with her hands at her sides. “Lord Price, hello again. Please come and join me.”

He made the final approach and grabbed her offered hand gently. Leaning down, he kissed her fingers together and then paused. After a second of holding the hand, he kissed it again, slower this time, before standing up and looking at her.

“Your Highness.” He said with a handsome smile. “Thank you for your gracious welcome and for your invitation to dine. It’s an honor.”

For all his boldness when he was speaking his mind, Lord Price knew courtly courtesy as well as anyone. He moved behind her chair in order to allow her to sit. Once he’d pushed her chair in, he found his own seat and joined her.

“You’re breathtaking in that dress, ma’am.” He said, looking at her as if she were the only other person in the room. “I may have to try hard to focus on your important words when you’re dressed so beautifully.”

“I’d say flattery and charm won’t get you anywhere, the trouble is I know it has gotten you plenty of places.” Giana smiled and shook her head, her beautiful eyes sparkling. She crossed her legs elegantly under the table as one of the servants came to pour glasses of red wine. Once he had withdrawn, Giana spoke again.

“Were you able to attend to some of the business you needed to earlier?”

“I was, actually. I sat through some completely boring meetings, sent over some signed documents and delegated the simple task.” He said, grabbing the glass of wine and sniffing it with a nod of approval. “I did have to cancel a charity event with your dear royal sister. You’ll never guess what it was for.”

“Teaching fish to swim?” Giana replied with an expressive roll of her eyes. “Maybe she just really wants to have some babies.”

Without wasting any time, two waiters brought out the first course of hors d’oeuvres. The one placing the covered tray in front of Giana spoke as he opened it.

“Goat cheese crostini with fig-olive tapenade, Highness.”

They withdrew quickly and they were then alone in the room with their food.

“I’m sure Elana will get over it.”

“She’s resilient, and she cares enough for both of us.” He said with a roll of his own eyes for an instant. It was the only indicator of how he might really feel he’d given. He picked up one of the crostini and took a bite. He savored the flavor of the small snack packed. “That’s really good. Does the Pyramid have its own chef?”

“Several, actually. The one cooking the food for tonight is a personal one of the imperial family though. You don’t get to taste his food without special invitation.” She chuckled and shook her head. “Not everyone enjoys replicated food, my father is especially picky as he has every right to be.”

“Well, we can afford to be picky, can’t we? Why shouldn’t we?” He asked rhetorically as he chewed. “How was your day after we met this morning? Did you have a long list of meetings with more handsome, dashing men offering to kill for your attention?”

“Oh a few. I had to have my secretary make a list. You are the only one who got the dinner though.” She smirked just slightly and picked up her wine to take a sip of it. “Truthfully the rest of my day was mostly spent in very boring meetings listening to people drone on about nothing while I worked on other more pressing matters.”

“The work is a little tedious, but it has its rewards. I mean, most people don’t get fabulous wealth and power, so sitting through a few meetings might be a small price to pay.” He said, sipping his wine again and looking at her. “But you need to make sure you have fun as well from time to time. You’re wasted in back to back meetings. Between this and Bella Gia, you must have a thousand a week.”

“Don’t forget I’m Lady of the Northern Dominion too.” Giana pointed, the smirk remaining right where it was. She put her glass back down and her expression evened out again. “I’m getting through the work, but no, I don’t really have time for fun even with the assistance my staff provides. I admit I was never expecting to add ‘Regent’ to my list of responsibilities. Though I’m hopeful it will not be for long.”

He watched her smile with interest, allowing the one on his face to relax as he listened to her. He’d actually forgotten she was a Lady in her own right. As it was, she had never been to a Council of Lords meeting before, so they hadn't really interacted before.

“How’s your father holding up?” he asked with a curious expression.

“Resting comfortably and recovering.” Giana offered the standard response and didn’t seem inclined to expand on it more than that. One of the servants returned to take their empty plates away, but did so quickly to intrude as little as possible.

Khalon looked at her with a somewhat pained expression. Biting his tongue took genuine effort, and he was sure it would ruin the moment if he told her he thought that was bullshit. Instead, he nodded in a completely unconvincing way and took another bite of the first course.

“That’s really good to hear..” he said, sounding like he had a stomach ache.

She noticed his tone immediately and lifted a brow, but she decided to not question it in the end. “So tell me how you’ve been settling into your role as High Lord of Mars. I know you were acting in your fathers stead for a while before it became… official. Do you find it any different?”

Khalon happily took the out she had offered. He typically didn’t choke in social situations, but he almost had.

“Well, like most Lords, I inherited when my father died. It was sad, but Dad had been sick for a long time, so it wasn’t like it was some surprise. I’d been running his council and attending most of his events, especially after my sister went missing.” He averted his gaze for a moment, wondering what had become of Maya and her little ship. He pushed the thought out of his mind and looked back at Giana. “But Mars is one of our oldest worlds, and my family has a long history there. The only difference is what people call me and, I guess, how much time I have to do what I want.”

Giana’s pretty blue eyes softened slightly. “I was very sorry to hear about Maya’s disappearance. She is a nice young woman.”

Too nice for higher court, Giana thought, but perhaps with time Maya could have surprised her. The younger woman was one who Giana really didn’t have problems with - a rarity for her. “Perhaps some day we will find out what befell our ships that were lost. Maybe they even found each other in the end; wouldn’t that be nice?”

“It would be.” Khalon said with a sad smile. It was a sore subject, and he clearly cared for his sister quite alot. They had always been a strong, affectionate, loving family, and hugs in the Price household were given as often as glances were in some others. Losing his father and his sister had been difficult for him. “If they’re even alive, that is. The current theory is that there was a teleportation event rather than a destructive one. I’ve prayed that Starfleet is right about that one.”

“I’ve heard the same theory.” Giana nodded slightly, studying his face and how sad he looked. It hadn’t escaped the talk of the court how close the Price family was to each other, it was a topic of envy by many. Giana found herself wondering what it might have been like to have such a family; the truth was she likely wouldn’t have been very sad if any of her siblings died.

“Keep praying, Khalon. Perhaps the gods will bring her home to you.” It wasn’t a patronizing statement but instead seemed genuinely encouraging.

He smiled at her and allowed a small silence to rest between them. It was more comfortable than he would have assumed it would be. His grin was unabashedly engaged, and the fact he liked being around her could be seen by a blind man.

“So, you’re fresh back from killing a traitor and winning a war and you’re juggling running the Empire with holding your family together, ruling your lands, and designing for your company,” he started, eyeing her, “I’m sitting here wondering how you have time to have a fiance right now. Who’s planning the wedding, his mother?”

It had been a clever comment given the situation happening with Lady Lavigne and any other day, Giana might have quipped back, but she found she didn’t have it in her to do so right then. She lifted her glass of wine and looked at it. “The wedding plans are on hold given everything that has been happening and with my father’s condition. As for my time, my fiance has found himself quite occupied with his new job and deciding that he actually does enjoy being famous.”

“So you’re both too busy to get married, is that right?” He asked, challenging finally, but with a smile. He shook his head. “I could never do that. I’d have to be married to you right away; no delay.”

Giana frowned, “My father would want to be there, and I would want him there.”

Even if he didn’t really approve of her relationship to Sacha, she had never really considered the possibility he wouldn’t be in attendance of her wedding and she certainly wasn’t going to consider it now.

The servants returned with two more covered plates which were once more put down in front of the seated pair simultaneously with the one serving Giana speaking up. “Candied carrots with honey, cumin, and paprika.”

The servants withdrew once more and left Giana looking down at the pretty, colorful carrot dish before them.

“Well, he’s resting and recovering, right? You could set a date a few months from now and have him there.” Khalon said without any hint of doubt that what he was saying was true. Of course, every instinct in his body told him differently, but it seemed he couldn’t stay off the topic this evening. “Six months, a year. Whatever.”

Giana smiled, strained and verging on annoyed. “You’re very kind to be concerned about my wedding, but trust that I will handle it when the time is right and don’t worry, you’ll be invited.”

She picked up her fork and knife to cut into the carrots, obviously very done with that topic of conversation.

Khalon understood that she didn’t trust him, and he couldn’t really blame her. He picked up his knife and fork and wondered what in the world it was safe to talk to her about. She had a thousand secrets he was sure, all locked in that little royal head of hers.

“Oh, I couldn’t stand to go. I’m far too jealous. I might mistake you for a picture of yourself.” He said, taking a bite from his fork.

“I’m sure you’ll find it in yourself to attend.” To not would have been extremely disrespectful not only to Giana but the Emperor himself after all.

“You know, apparently I have a cousin on one of those missing ships.”

“You do?” He asked, following her change of conversation without actually giving it much thought. There was clearly trouble in paradise. Either Antonius was nowhere near stable enough to attend a wedding, she had some serious hesitation about actually going through with it, or both. Either way, it had serious implications for her. “What cousin?”

“Lyra Hale. I’m sure you’re at least vaguely familiar with that whole story?” She asked and glanced up at him between her bites.

“Right right.” he said with a nod, recognizing the name immediately. “The dead girl who’s actually alive. Elana told me all about her, at least as far as her childhood went. She said you two were close.”

“Truthfully she was more like a sister to me than Elana is.” Giana shrugged slightly. “They got along too when Elana decided she wanted to be around, but Lyra and I were closer. Her brother is Lord of Brazil now.”

“Right. I met him aboard Imperator during the Feast of Heroes. He’s got a crazy story. They all do.” he said with a tone that indicated he was intrigued and impressed. “It sounds like Imperial Intelligence played a big part in saving their lives. I guess I don’t understand why they didn’t just knock Ivers off the hill and give Brazil back to them.”

“I really don’t know and I never asked. I don’t think it’s something I would get a straight answer about. If I were to take a guess it probably had something to do with the shipyards or bringing some other unruly people in line. I don’t get it and it sounds awful.” She shook her head. “After all of that, then my cousin goes missing to who knows where.”

It seemed Giana too was more inclined to believe that somewhere, the crews of their lost ships were alive.

“After a life like hers, I bet she’s a survivor. If she’s out there somewhere, I bet she’s a fighter.” he remarked with some warmth. “And, if that’s the case, I hope my sister is with her. She’s a good pilot, but she’s pathetic in a fight.”

“Did the two of you ever serve together? I know you were both in Starfleet.” She pointed out, finding herself actually genuinely curious to learn more about the man across from her. Of course there was business to talk about, but they could talk of other things beforehand.

He shook his head, offering a simple answer to her question.

“No, when she graduated, she went straight to the ISS Gladius. I never served with her and only interacted with her as fellow soldiers when I went to her graduation ceremony. We’ve been a Starfleet family for generations, so It was a big deal, as it always is. I wish I was there with her, though.”

“I’m sure you do.” Her voice was sympathetic and so were her eyes. “Do you regret having to leave the fleet to take up the mantle of High Lord?”

“I liked my life the way it was, and I entered thinking I’d be able to be in for decades before I needed to come home. At first, I was excited to have things my way at home, but I miss it some days. Still, the life of a civilian has its freedoms and benefits. I can’t complain about those.” He answered earnestly. He met her eyes and, seeing compassion in them, smiled. “Non replicated food for example.”

“A better selection of women too, I imagine.” Giana noted with a more playful smirk this time. The gender ratio in the military was still quite skewed in favor of men which was natural, but certainly cut down on options for the men if they were inclined to seek out more than a casual fling.

“Well, yeah. Military life doesn’t suit every beautiful woman. You never got your lips for example.” He responded, bringing the wine glass to his lips again. “But I don’t make important decisions based on the general hotness of the women I’m around, most of the time.”

“Well at least you’re honest in that it’s most of the time.” She chuckled, pausing as the plates were cleared away and allowing her eyes to linger on him. “How is your mother faring? Is she helping you with your duties as lord?”

“She’s stronger than I am.” He said with a chuckle. “And she’s been attending fundraisers and hosting all the events a High Lord generally attends in my place. I spend a lot of time here on Terra these days.”

“Any particular reason for that? Or are the council meetings eating all of your time?” The servants returned to clear the plates and refill their wine glasses.

“I’ve been increasing my influence as much as I can so that I can be more useful.” He answered. “I wasn’t an insider when I was appointed to the Council, so I’ve had a lot of catching up to do as far as making allies in the Senate.”

“You’ve done quite well for yourself on that front it seems.” Giana noted, her tone approving. “Being able to offer me seven senators in the amount of time you’ve been moving in the circles is no small feat.”

“Well, I can be convincing when I really want to. Talking up a potential future familial connection with the Imperial Family got my foot in the door on some of them. I’ve built groundwork on dozens more, but I can’t call them mine yet.” He said, admitting a shade of how he had managed to do it. “I know time and familiarity help, so I’ve stuck around.”

Giana laughed softly. “See, I knew it wasn’t purely altruistic.” She shook her head, but obviously didn’t care much that Elana was being used as a pawn even in some small way.

“You’d secure more support if you went through with it though. It isn’t like you’d have to see each other all the time. She can play with her orphans, you can do whatever powerful men do.”

“Elana is not so bad, right. I find her almost completely tolerable.” He said, looking at her and enjoying her amusement. “But she’s not exactly my type.”

Giana went quiet for a beat and just looked at Khalon. He was humoring her about Elana she was sure; a lot of men found the bleeding heart type attractive and Elana was that if nothing else. “Something to think about though, it isn’t like it’s an uncommon thing for powerful families. Love may come in time… or you find yourself a girlfriend.”

Khalon raised his brows in surprise at her statement. His smile had remained on his face, but the amusement had gone out.

“That’s disgusting.” He said, and to his credit, the disgust was reflected in his face. “I have a very affectionate family. Loveless marriages just wouldn’t work any more than betrayal would. We tie the knot for life on Mars. So I’d really better find the right woman, right?”

Despite what she had put out as a solution herself, the approval at his answer was very clearly shown in Giana’s eyes. “Yes, you probably should.”

The servants appeared again and once again repeated their routine.

“Roasted duck with an orange-ginger glaze and rosemary potatoes.”

Once the servants were gone again, Giana picked up her fork and knife and cut into the medallions of duck meat. “I did spend a good part of my day considering the discussion we had earlier.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” He said, cutting the duck on his plate as well. The food was fragrant and tender, another example of the fine cooking served at Court. “Do you have any thoughts you’d like to share?”

“I think I may invite them to dinner and tell them how things are going to go.” She took a sip of her wine, closing her beautiful blue eyes for a moment. “If they refuse, they may perhaps not all return home.”

“They will refuse, Your Highness.” He said with certainty in his voice. “Unless what you tell them makes them believe you are a killer. Unfortunately, I think Sacha Lavigne robbed you of that credential as far as your brother goes. The nobility whisper that he’s the one who did the dirty work while you sat on your ship and hoped for the best.”

He didn’t mean to insult or disappoint her. He only meant to be honest about what he’d heard.

“You can do this, Your Highness, but you’re going to need to have somebody carved up at the table rather than just the meat. They need to see how tough you are underneath your dazzling eyes and good fashion, the way I do.”

“Yes, I was assuming that I would have to do something to drive home the point given they are drunk on foolishness and delusions of having power. I was hoping though that I might not have to end one of them, but I will if I need to. I thought taking their hands might be enough, but do you have a different suggestion?” She wasn’t exactly completely comfortable with what she was saying, but she found herself more comfortable than she thought she would have been.

“See that’s what I’m talking about.” He said, pointing at her for a moment before putting his hand down. “That hesitation; that instinct to punish lightly…to be just. That’s what they expect from you.”

He leaned back in the chair and took a deep breath, his eyes locking in on hers.

“They expect you to intervene, they expect you to meet with them, to talk, and maybe to slap a hand or two. But they also expect you to be reasonable, and measured, patient. They expect you to give them a warning. They don’t think you’re a killer.”

Giana frowned but didn’t necessarily seem angry over his assessment. He was right, she did want to be reasonable and just to begin with; she didn’t want to jump outright to killing. As she pushed the food around on her plate a bit, she continued to mull it over. They’d had time to deal with her mother and they had rejected her soft, reasonable hand. They sewed dissent and doubt in the power of the imperial monarchy - they were Blues who should have been dealt with when the others had been. She hated the thought of killing, but the slide of the Empire toward certain ruin was a much more pressing matter.

“You’re right.” She admitted with a sigh.

“We should have a meal though, it’ll remind them of the last time Lords were invited to dine with an Orsini.” He said, his hands folding conspiratorially. “The Council of Lords, meeting over a nice sunny lunch. You can speak courteously, telling them to get on side. And, if they don’t bite or they decide to insult you..”

He grabbed the knife next, lifting it like a dagger. He looked at her, seriously. It wasn’t clear if the idea was an exciting one for him, but he certainly seemed willing and dedicated.

“I can take care of the rest.”

“What will it cost me, Khalon?” Giana asked, now mildly challenging.

He shook his head as if the question offended him, but a smile played at his lips as he prepared to respond.

“Weren’t you listening, Giana? I already told you.” He leaned back and licked his full lips. “A hug. That’s it, I swear to all the gods. A hug, from you, is worth a dead traitor. A kiss, well..” he paused, and looked at her, unashamedly staring at her lips. “That would be worth a thousand.”

“You can’t really be serious.” Giana frowned, her eyes moving over his face slowly as if she were trying to figure out what was his real motivation and what he would get out of the deal. The chance of being elevated in the Empire didn’t seem quite enough.

“How can I convince you how serious I am?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not the first man who would do anything for you, surely. Is it really so hard to believe? What better reason would I have?”

“Power.” She replied simply and shrugged. Obviously, she simply didn’t believe in the concept of a man doing “anything” for a woman. “Popularity, recognition.”

“I have those things already.” He said, shrugging. “At least I have enough of them for my taste. I never understood the point of men who try to climb to the top or work their lives away to gain great riches. I have everything I need.” He eyed her then, confident and calm. “Except you.”

Giana frowned at him, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms. “If you wanted that opportunity, why didn’t you have your parents talk to mine?”

“That’s a fair question.” He admitted, looking at her with patience and a gentle nod. “The truth is my father didn’t like your father very much. Your entire family, really. He thought you were weak. He changed his tone after the Night of the Crimson Knives, but that was after you were already dating Sacha.”

“And you didn’t want to go against your father.” It was a statement more than a question. “What about Elana? Men and women can’t really be friends like that. Not so far as she runs off to Mars to be with you and thinks things are going well; what was your play with my sister? Were you going to try and make things work with her?”

“Why would I? There’s nothing there from me to her, and I’ve already told you how important genuine connection is to me.” He said, raising his hands. “I know this seems suspicious, but I’m making good of a fortuitous situation more than anything else. I don’t want more power, influence, or wealth for its own sake. And, though it might surprise you, I can be very entertaining company with my clothes on just as well as off. Add a bit of delusion on Elana’s part, and you have our current situation.”

It was clear Giana was still very suspicious, but there was obviously some part of her that wanted to believe him. The only true ally she could think of that she had in this world was CJ, and she knew that CJ’s help certainly wasn’t without a price of its own. She didn’t reply, instead hid her thoughts and feelings behind another sip of wine and bites of food.

“You don’t have to believe me, really. I’m here, I’ll do the job, and then maybe I’ll just return to Mars and leave you to put things back together here and stay out of your way. Or, I might just stay here and pester you. I suppose it’ll depend on my mood.” He said, allowing a small smile. He couldn’t control how she felt about him, and he didn’t intend to try.

“You need to stop making appearances with my sister.” Giana finally said. “I’m not going to say encourage her to leave Mars because frankly I prefer her to have her melodrama about not wanting to be royal while enjoying all of its perk as far away from me as possible, but I also cannot afford to have the tabloids spew nonsense right now if you do decide you want to ‘pester me’ when you’re supposed to be with my sister.”

He lifted his wine glass and took a healthy sip, leaving just a bit at the bottom. He looked at her and gave a nod, seeming unbothered by the terms.

“Done.” He said, and then finished the rest of his wine. “I’ll let her down easy.”

“That’s up to you, it doesn’t matter.” She gave a dismissive wave of her hand at the notion she would care how he would do it. Putting her glass down again, she let her beautiful blue eyes rest on him.

“Do you think they will all need to die?”

“No. Just one should send the message loud and clear.” He said. Her lack of concern for her sister didn’t surprise him considering the conversations he’d had with Elana, but it did make him question her value for family. Either way, it was none of his business. “The big question is: which one? Lavigne, Sharma, or Montreve? Or, maybe you want to play it by ear..see who’s acting the stupidest on the day.”

“Montreve would be my first choice. She isn’t family and if it can be avoided I would like to not kill another member of my family even if it is through marriage. Jolene is near family and I haven’t exactly had a chance to let Sacha know I might kill his mother if she doesn’t bend and while he really dislikes the woman, she’s still his mother.” Giana sighed softly and closed her eyes.

“That makes sense. I’d be surprised if she doesn’t have a backup plan of some kind. She knows she’s the only one who you can lay your hands on.” He responded. “But she’ll fall easy, especially if she has none of her men with her.”

“She absolutely is not, and if she had paid any attention to anything, she would know that.” Giana practically snorted but paused as the servants returned to clear the plates. “I’ll make sure everything is in order that she won’t be able to escape.”

“And I assume you won’t be plunging the dagger yourself?” He asked, though his expression was open and curious.

“No, I am not planning on it,” she smiled just slightly and looked out of the large window they were sitting next to, “but perhaps they’ll make me mad enough to do just that. How shall we arrange the deed if it needs to be done?”

“They’ll be wary of any extra guards, of course, and after your father had the Blues stabbed by the wait staff, that option will arouse suspicion as well.” He said, biting his lower lip as he considered the situation. “Still, once we have them there, it won’t really matter. I expected I would do it, but it doesn’t really matter in the end, does it?”

“Do you want to?” She asked, both her voice and eyes full of curiosity at his confession.

“I do. It sounds fun. And, for the record, I’m good at it.” He answered with a chuckle. “I hate the Blues just as much as my father did, and I’d like to settle the score with some of the prominent members who spent their days hiding and lying about it.”

The servants returned and placed small plates with elegant small dark brown cakes on them.

“Flourless chocolate cake paired with sweet port wine, Highness.” The servant offered as he poured the small glass of port for her first and then Khalon. Steady as the tide, they left again and Giana continued the conversation as if they hadn’t had the interruption at all.

“Very well, Khalon, if that’s the way you feel about it. Do you have any other suggestions?”

Khalon had always been a fan of port, so he showed some interest in the servant’s words. Meals like this were normal for both of them, and the only real difference was the caliber of his company. Still, Khalon was an unpretentious man, putting more importance in the character of a person than any titles they might have been able to accrue for themselves. If he liked being with Giana in this moment, it had nothing to do with the fact that she was a princess. He lifted the port to his lips and shook his head.

“Is that dress one of your designs?” He asked, curiously, seeming to swerve the last question for interest in another. “It looks like one of the dresses from your August catalog.”

“Yes, it is.” She confirmed while looking across at him. At any other time she would have been flattered that he had noticed and remembered her designs, especially as a man, but the fact he had so obviously dodged her last question had annoyed her.

“Perhaps you’d like something for your mother.”

“She beat both of us to it, Your Highness. You can believe that.” he said with a smile. “Mom is probably your first order when you come out with something she likes even remotely. If I want to get a gift for her, I normally go for jewelry over fabrics because she tends to be too distracted to look at those. You’re generous for the offer, though.”

Her annoyance at his changing the subject was obvious, and while he took no pleasure in bothering her, he wasn’t going to let himself be controlled by her subtle and shifting feelings. He intended to serve her as a man and not a dog, after all.

“Where do you get your inspiration for new designs? Do you browse other catalogs? Are you more of a cooperative designer, taking your team’s concepts into consideration?”

“Where did you get that suit? It isn’t one of mine.” Giana noted and indicated to the outfit he was wearing with a slight gesture of her hand that was also holding the glass of port.

Khalon furrowed his brows in confusion as she didn’t answer his question. Was she offended by being asked about herself at all? He licked his lips, pressing off any natural irritation with a shift in his expectations and masking it well.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” he said, shaking his head. “I had a servant run out and grab it for the occasion and she didn't tell me where she bought it.”

He grabbed the lapel of the jacket and slipped one arm out followed by another. Turning the jacket around carefully, he looked at the tag on the inside and nodded.

“Oliver & Tenley. One of my favorite brands.” he said, looking back up at her and offering a small smile. “My people know what I like.”

“Not a fan of my Armand brand, then?” She asked and took a small bite of the dense, rich cake on her plate.

“Are you kidding me? You corner the market when it comes to elite clothing. I have every suit you designed. But, you’re new, and I like variety.” He said, using his fork to cut into one of the desserts and pop it into his mouth. His closest had two floors, if that was any indication of how dedicated he was to looking good. Everyone agreed that it worked, and aside from being handsome and notably fit, Lord Khalon Price had a varied and interesting wardrobe. He wasn’t afraid to peacock and wear bright, colorful combinations that other men wouldn’t dare try. He always made it work.

“I’ll be debuting a new collection at the beginning of December in time for Saturnalia; it will cover all of my brands. I think you’ll be excited, knowing what I know of you.” His admission that he owned everything she had put out seemed to please her, and any lingering annoyance melted away.

“Most of the designs for my Pia Pietra brand are my own and I do a large majority for Caterina as well. Armand and Chique Royal are more collaborative endeavors as I don’t have a full grasp of what the commoner enjoys wearing.”

“I always assumed they liked to look as close to us as they could with the little money they have. That, and good things like belly shirts, and yoga pants in public.” He grinned then and took a sip of the port. “You could always sell them sweatshirts with sports teams on them.”

“I think you’re trying to make me sick.” Giana replied with a smirk of her own. “Would you have any interest in making a contribution of your own to the brand? Perhaps something for Seraphina, a cologne?”

She surprised herself with the offer and that it was genuine. It wasn’t something she had randomly done before even with Sacha, but that was because she knew Sacha would just laugh it off and dismiss it as silly - though he might have been more open to it now that he was enjoying the limelight of heroism.

“Me?” He asked, surprised at first, and then allowing his mind to settle on the idea. Of course he’d entertained the idea of getting involved in the industry at some point, but he’d never taken the idea seriously. “That would be amazing, actually. Would you be willing to let me do something like that?”

“You’re one of the most fashionable men in the Empire; of course I would be willing if it is something you’re interested in.” She smiled, warm. “Do you have any idea of what you might like to make? You’d be invited to the lab to figure it out of course, but I’ve found some people already have an idea or two bouncing around in their heads.”

Khalon gave her a smile full of excitement as he chewed, his mind moving to any idea which might be floating around in his head. He knew what he liked in great detail, so it wasn’t exactly difficult for him to generate an idea on the spot.

“If I were to create my own cologne, it would probably have a fresh top note and a rich amber wood base with a healthy dose of spice and peppers throughout the life of the scent.” He said, making the scent combinations in his mind and imagining what they would be like together. “And if I were to design suits, I would lean toward creative styles with vibrant colors. They might not attract everyone’s eye, but they would be iconic.”

Giana giggled, light and feminine; she was clearly taken with his excitement at the prospects of creating and the fact he had such a solid idea already. “I see you’ve given this some thought already. That’s good. It shouldn’t be difficult to arrange around your schedule. As for the suits, we can discuss that more; I’d like to see what you have in mind.”

“I promise to dazzle you.” He said, smiling at her feminine giggle; it was endearing. “I haven’t thought about it too much, but I have a few ideas swimming around in my head about the whole thing. Just have your people get with mine, and we can make that happen.”

He sipped his port again, feeling some of the effects from both that and the wine they had been served previously. He looked at her again, allowing his gaze to move from her eyes, to her hair, to her upper body, and then back again. If he could see her legs, he would have lingered there longer.

“Your designs are excellent, but I think you missed your true calling as a model.” He said, his voice somewhat musical as he sang the subtle compliment.

“My father wouldn’t allow it. I wanted to, once upon a time, but he wouldn’t hear of it unless I was covered head to toe in fifteen layers of fabric, long sleeves, turtle necks, and skirts preferably with trains they were so long, so I gave up on that dream.” She waved a hand to dismiss the notion, though obviously it bothered her - at least this time it wasn’t directed at Khalon.

“My father said the same thing when I was asked to star in an underwear commercial. He said it was below the dignity of a noble and an embarrassment to the family, so I didn’t do it.” He shook his head then. “What a shame. I guess that means you have to do all of your modeling at parties..” He winked at her; a seamless and smooth gesture, communicating no hesitation or fear. “Or privately.”

“That’s a shame. You would have looked quite good in nothing but underwear on a billboard.” Giana smirked in a flirtatious way, distracted by the way he was looking at her and the warmth of the wine. “The world missed out.”

“Well, who needs billboards anyway when you have private viewings? In my opinion, those are far more fun.” he replied with a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with playful intent. “Some things are best appreciated up close and personal. A billboard can’t really get the whole point across.”

“Give a lot of those private viewings, do you?” Giana challenged, pushing her plate back so she could lean closer to him as if they were conspiring over something. “I’m sure you’re very popular if what I saw earlier was any indication.”

“Not nearly as many as you might think. I’m careful with that sort of thing. I have a responsibility to give myself to my wife one day and not everyone I see along the way. I had my wild days, I’ll admit, but I cut that out years ago. I’m a good boy, I promise.” he said, offering a challenging expression which shed some reasonable doubt on the claim. He leaned in as well, and inhaled her perfume as he looked in her crystal blue eyes. “So you liked what you saw earlier, then? Just wait until I tell teenage Khalon that Princess Giana saw le pièce de résistance and didn’t laugh.”

Giana laughed and shook her head, but sat back as she did so. “Well, you’ll have to let me know what he says to that.”

She finished her port and her expression evened out a bit more. “When shall we hold this lunch, Khalon? I’d like to within a week, I don’t want this to fester too long.”

“Two days should be enough notice.” he said, finishing his own glass and picking up his last cake to finish after he was done talking. “If not, people will change their schedules rather than miss a gathering of the powerful, no matter how inconvenient it is. At this point, there’s no reason to doubt the loyalty of the other Council members, but they’ll be there too. Technically the invitation should come from the Speaker. Normally, I’d recommend ignoring all that bullshit, Lady Mendez is a supporter of your family and there’s no point offending her as far as I can see.”

“No, there isn’t any reason to do that. I’ll see her contacted and have her send out the invitation.” She watched as he finished his cake, her own remaining only half gone. “I hope you enjoyed dinner.”

“It was delicious, really. There wasn’t a single dish I didn’t enjoy.” He said, looking at her with somehow both courteous and mischievous eyes. “And it was great to talk to you more today and get to know you a little better. Thank you for the invitation.”

“Perhaps this will be the first of future invitations.” She offered up with a smile. “I certainly can’t complain about the company.”

Khalon stood up, the fine fabric of his jacket falling into place, and stepped around the table toward her. He stood very close; inappropriately close, and dropped down to one knee. He grabbed her hand in his and looked down, admiring the contrast in their skin tones and her well-manicured hands which told the story of a life without physical labor or work of any kind. He lifted the hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles slowly, worshipfully, looking up at her as he did so.

“Neither can I, Your Highness.” He said in a low voice, smooth and full of the attraction which burned brightly in his dark eyes. “I’ll be thinking about tonight constantly until I can see you again.”

Giana watched him as he moved and her eyes continued to follow every motion he made. She allowed him to take her hand and wasn’t oblivious to the quickening of her heartbeat or the little thrill that ran down her spine being so close to him. She licked her lips and stood slowly and carefully, being sure not to bump into him but he could watch her body slowly shift and move only inches from his handsome face.

“I believe I owe you a hug.”

Khalon watched her intensely as she stood up, his eyes following the line of her body up to her face. Being this close to her was a thrill for him as well, and his heart, too, was picking up speed. He stood then, and paused in front of her, his face close to hers; his lips close to hers. The tension was thick now, and the rest of the large room disappeared around them as he stared into her eyes.

“I believe you do.”

The temptation to kiss him was real. The chemistry they shared was electric and Giana was sure she could actually feel sparks between them. Her blue eyes settled on his and she drew closer, but as she lifted her hands slightly she felt the brush of the metal of her engagement ring against her hip. It broke her from the thought she had been entertaining, and instead she wrapped her arms around the man to give him his hug.

Khalon fought the powerful urge to kiss her as well. He had no engagement ring on his finger, but she did. Flirting was one thing, but actually tempting her into violating her relationship was quite another, and he wouldn’t allow himself to do that. He accepted the hug when it was given, the feeling of her body finally touching his causing his heart to speed up even more. He wrapped his strong arms around her and held her tightly, not shy about allowing the embrace to become intimate. Between his legs, he felt the stirring which one might expect from a man as attracted to her as he was.

Giana lingered but a moment before she pulled back and gave him a smile. “Well, I won’t keep you.” She gestured toward the door gracefully. “I will have my people contact you with the details of the lunch as well as getting you set up to visit Bella Gia.”

“I look forward to it.” He said, taking the invitation to straighten his jacket subtly with his hands, give her a wink and one last look, and then to turn for the door. He walked out with the same energetic motion he always moved, as if he both had incredibly important things in his schedule and absolute confidence he had all the time he needed. Without another glance over his shoulder, the High Lord of Mars was gone.

END

]]> Sat, 16 Nov 2024 23:53:41 +0000 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/810 http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/810
Mission - Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location - The Pyramid

ON

The waiting room outside of the office where Princess Giana had been placed was standard, and decorated in a similar fashion to the rest of the Pyramid. Considering the numerous duties that were expected of the Regent in the midst of a looming political crisis, the attention of her staff had been placed on the tasks that would keep the government in control. It had been difficult, and they had faced resistance in most places they had turned where, previously, they would have received obsequious compliance. The winds of political change were blowing, and that couldn’t be good.

Several aides from the Senate and the Council of Lords had been relocated to assist the Princess Regent directly, lending expertise. In this instance, they had little to say beyond how challenging the situation was. There was gridlock in the Senate, and the military parade and honors the regents needed to secure their image after the Battle of Axanar were in legislative purgatory. More importantly, however, was the legitimacy of the current Emperor and his government.

As soon as Lord Khalon Price stepped through the double doors that led into the lobby, his alluring sweet and spicy scent wafted in as well. He wore perfectly pressed black pants and a collarless matching shirt with a royal blue silk jacket over it. His nails, his trimmed goatee, his jewelry, and his very presence told a story of wealth, charm, and fashionable taste. Walking straight up to the desk, he looked down at the man sitting there.

“I’m here to see the Princess Regent.” He said, his voice confident, but sociable and calm.

“One moment, Lord Price.” The man replied, looked at his monitor, then back to the glamorous lord before him. “The Princess Regent is just finishing up a meeting, sir. It shouldn’t be more than five minutes.”

He seemed to be genuinely apologetic to inform Khalon of the delay and it wasn’t some power tactic. “Feel free to have a seat if you would like.”

“I’ll stand.” Khalon returned, seeming genuinely unbothered at being set aside and made to wait for her previous appointment to finish. He took a step back from the counter and stood there in relative stillness, except his head, which occasionally turned to study another painting on the wall. It was fair to say he was unaccustomed to waiting, and it didn’t suit him, but he wasn’t about to make a fuss about it.

The man behind the desk seemed to be content to ignore Khalon and focus on his work instead of attempting to engage in small talk or other pleasantries. The Princess Regent was a very busy woman and thus her staff was always very busy. It was about five minutes later when a smartly dressed middle aged woman stepped out from the wall behind the desk. She carried a large tablet style PADD and glanced from it up to Khalon.

“Lord Price. The Princess Regent will see you now; please follow me.” She turned and began to walk down the hallway that led to more offices that had their glass frosted over for privacy, but figures could be seen moving inside of them. The hall didn’t have much of a personal touch in it, but it had the usual elegance and refinement of the rest of the Pyramid’s aesthetic. They approached one of the last doors which the woman opened and stepped in before Khalon.

“Princess Regent, Lord Price.”

Unlike the hallway and receiving portion of the small wing Giana was in, Giana’s office had been updated to her own tastes. There were still classical elements to it, but the rich dark woods had been replaced with crisp whites. To the left side of the room from the entrance were floor to ceiling bookcases filled with a beautiful dark rainbow of assorted books all standing neat and tidy. In front of that was Giana’s traditional double pedestal desk in a non-traditional white wood; on top of it was her console, her box, a stack of PADDs, a stack of papers, and a vase full of blue and white flowers. In front of the desk were two simple white chairs that didn’t look particularly comfortable nor inviting. Across the room was a seating area with two chairs and a chaise lounge. The chairs and chase were white with blue trim, and sitting in the middle of all three was a blue ottoman. The wall they were in front of was painted a very dark grey with silver patterning on it. It was more modern and definitely had a feminine touch.

Khalon was very observant of the world around him, so his eyes caught every detail of the hallway, but when he stepped into the office, his eyes went directly to Giana. He approached smartly, moving with the elegance and authority of a lord as well as the confidence and strength of a soldier. Stopping before her, he bowed his head slowly.

“Your Highness. You’re good to see me on such short notice.” He said smoothly, his brown eyes meeting hers confidently.

Giana sat behind her desk and looked up as Khalon bowed his head. She was wearing a simple light purple sheath dress with a dark blue bolero jacket over it. Her blonde hair was pulled back in an elegant bun, and touches of silver jewelry brought out more of her natural beauty. She watched her sister’s boyfriend swagger up to the desk with a neutral expression. She didn’t really have a desire to talk to him, but she also knew she wasn’t in a position to deny him right now.

“Of course, Lord Price. What can I do for you?”

“That’s the wrong question, Giana. The right one is: what can I do for you.” He said, the formality of his entrance giving way to his naturally forward personality. “Lady Montreve and her friends are sticking two middle fingers up at you right now, and no one as beautiful as you should have so much trouble.”

He sat down in the chair and looked at her, licking his full lips and settling his chin in his hand. He played with his crisply styled goatee as his mind worked behind bright, curious, and lively eyes.

“Say the word, and I’ll plunge my dagger in her back for you.”

“Careful, Khalon, or I’ll tell my sister you were here trying to charm my skirt off with flattery and promises to crush my enemies.” Her voice lent itself to seriousness, but the smile at the end communicated the joke.

She sat back in her chair, obviously tired but still engaged. “What do you have to offer?”

“Your sister would be upset, Your Highness, but… let’s say tales of our romantic connection are exaggerated.” He said, seeming candid. “In other words, yours would be the first royal skirt I rolled off. If I was so lucky, that is.”

He wasn’t shy about the interaction, and he offered a white grin, though it was laced with a certain seriousness. It was a joke that may not have really been a joke.

“I have to offer total dedication, a killer instinct, a trained body, and a very very talented tongue.” He said, his eyes locked on hers relentlessly. The flirtation in the statement had been blatant, but it was unclear if the handsome High Lord of Mars was foolish enough to actually try with the very popular, very powerful, very engaged Princess Regent. “Oh, and seven votes in the Senate. I might be new, but I’m good at making friends.”

The man was charming, Giana couldn’t even attempt to deny that particular fact. Her blue eyes moved over him slowly, taking in his handsome face and the way he held himself; it wasn’t completely chaste, but it wasn’t over the top either. Elana had seemed quite adamant about things going well between her and Khalon, but her sister always had a pension for being rather delusional in Giana’s view.

But, maybe Khalon was just a womanizing asshole - he definitely played the part.

“Yes, you are good at making friends. What exactly are you wanting in return?”

Khalon pursed his full lips at the question. It wasn’t unexpected, and he didn’t pretend like it was. He let his eyes drift from her for a moment to the vibrant sunlight streaming in through the large triangular window and Rome, the eternal city, beneath. Then his eyes settled on a picture of Giana standing with her family in a palace garden. It was at least ten years old, and his eyes rested on her image with a smile.

“I have an embarrassing confession to make, but you have to promise you won’t laugh at me.” He said, then looked at her with that smile, every bit as light and playful as Sacha’s had ever been. “Pinky swear?”

“I can’t promise that. What if it’s funny?” She challenged mildly though with clear amusement as she leaned forward to engage him more than she had been.

“Then you’ll owe me a favor, Your Highness.” He said, conspiratorially before turning his head in a move that was almost coy. “Okay, so when we were about twelve or thirteen, I thought you were the prettiest girl in the Empire. I used to watch the news just to see you walk beside your mother going to a charity, or anything like that, really. My stupid friends used to make fun of me for it, but I was basically obsessed.”

He smiled, the hint of embarrassment mounting slightly.

“I had this picture of you from some post card and…I literally used to sleep with it on the pillow next to mine. That’s the weirdest shit you ever heard, right?”

He bit his lip and looked up at her, his expression both amused and goofy. The use of profanity was inappropriate, of course, but he didn’t seem to notice, or he didn’t care.

“I’m not obsessed with you or anything like that anymore, but the Giana bug big bit me a long time ago and I still have a crush on you. I’m not going to lie.” He said, the embarrassment melting away and his eyes resting on hers again. “I guess I get to talk to you at least this one time, and if whatever we do stabilizes the Empire, that’s all the better.”

Giana listened intently; it always felt good to hear someone was really interested in her. It felt better when they were quite easy on the eyes themselves. She didn’t interrupt him, and her expression didn’t change outside a mild lifting of her manicured brows. Only when he was completely done did she finally shift and speak. “I see… how long did this obsession last?”

“Until yesterday, but I swear it’s gone.” He said, clearly joking, his slender, muscled body starting to move with silent, amiable laughter. “I’m basically indifferent to you today.”

“Oh well that’s good, it would be very difficult for you otherwise I’m sure.” Giana laughed a soft, feminine laugh but it was clear in her eyes that she had become slightly less engaged now that it was clear he was messing with her.

“But none of that really answered my question, did it? What do you want?”

His grin faded to a more serious expression as his fingers found and straightened the lapel of his blue silk jacket.

“I already told you, Giana. I get to serve you by stabilizing the Empire. I’ll admit I could have done something this entire time Montreve and your uncle, Sharma, were plotting, but my feelings weren’t that strong. Now that it’s your problem, I’m going to do something about it. I like when things work the way they should, and I feel a sudden swell of motivation. I’m serious.”

“Motivation you didn’t feel when it was my mother struggling.” Giana pointed out and lifted her arm so she choice rest her chin in her palm. While she and Cosima had many, many differences and rarely saw eye to eye, the woman was still her mother and there was a natural attachment and love there however strained it was between them.

“Right.” He said, unshaken by the accusation along with the implication he didn’t care enough. He spoke as honestly as ever. “Your mother is a grieving woman who has basically lost her husband. She’s smart, beautiful, and experienced, but she’s never cut a throat or ordered one cut. She didn’t have what it takes to solve this problem. I make no apologies for not putting my own position at risk trying to get her to do something she just doesn’t have the guts to do.”

He looked at her with a razor sharp expression, showing something in his eyes that set him apart from his frivolous and playful side.

“You have what it takes. You always have, and I admire that about you.”

Though she was skeptical, she obviously still hadn’t outright dismissed Khalon and he still had her attention. He wasn’t wrong in his assessment of her mother and she couldn’t fault him for wanting to protect himself; it did however indicate that his loyalty wasn’t free and he questioned if the rewards would outweigh the risks.

“What exactly do you think is necessary here?”

“It’s not about what I think. The solution is right there in Lady Montreve’s behavior. All of the dissenters were Blues in all but name before the Night of the Crimson Knives. The moderates on the Council of Lords voted with the Blues, defended their right to exist, and stayed silent when the Blues were strengthening themselves. They did it while claiming to be above the fray of politics. They’re hypocrites, which is why they mostly rode the fence. They’re cowards.”

He leaned back, relaxed, even as he risked being offensive. He had always been good at speaking his mind and quite bad at doing so gently.

“I don’t know where His Majesty is going to be in the next few weeks, but I can tell you that Lady Montreve, Lady Lavigne, and Prince Sharma think he’s going to be dead. And they think he’s going to be replaced by a weak, hesitant child Emperor led by a weak, hesitant Council of Regents.” he said, tapping his pristine brown finger on his jaw bone. “They can taste the blood in the water, and they know it's yours. And if you don’t show strength and draw their blood, you are fucked. One hundred percent fucked. And that’s not my opinion, that’s a fact. If they succeed in stopping this bill, all the other cowards will come out. And when weak men gather, it’s harder to stop them.”

“Come join me, Khalon.” Giana said as she stood and walked over toward the more comfortable seating area instead of her desk. She sat down in one of the chairs and gestured for him to do the same.

Without hesitation, Khalon stood and followed her over to the comfortable seating area. Looking down, he ran a hand on the fine fabric of the chair directly next to hers, taking time to appreciate it, before sitting down and crossing one leg over the other, leaving his foot close to her leg.

A servant came from seemingly nowhere carrying a pitcher and two glasses which she put down on the table between the two chairs and filled. She looked at Giana who gave a light wave. “Leave us.”

Without any hesitation, the woman did as she was commanded and the two were left - seemingly - alone. Giana didn’t speak right away and instead lifted the glass of cool water and took a thoughtful sip. Just as the silence was about to turn tense, she broke it. “I would be lying if I said we weren’t of the same mind here, though I will admit I don’t particularly understand the lingering mindset considering I just took our entire fleet and ended my own brother with it.”

She made an elegant gesture of the hand. “It was not, however, a popular decision with the other regents, so I am attempting to play nicely. I won’t forever.”

“I know that. That’s why I bothered coming here.” he answered as he watched the movement of her hand as she drank from the glass. He didn’t reach for his, but there was no indication whether this was because of some paranoia or the fact that he might simply not be thirsty. “But a man killed your brother, not you personally. It’s got to be the same way with this. And I doubt the same man is available.”

It was boldly said, but with a moderate tone. There was no physical sign he felt any contempt for her actions on Axanar.

There was a flash of annoyance on Giana’s face and she let out a quiet scoff. Looking away from him, she looked out of the massive window instead. She was quiet, then spoke quietly. “I wanted to do it myself.”

Khalon watched the flash of annoyance and looked toward the window. Displeasing people with his frankness was nothing new for him, but only a fool would suggest he didn’t care. In his mind, this was how he helped; it was how he made the world better, along with the people in it.

“Then I would be at your funeral right about now instead of looking at your pretty, very much alive face. Giuseppe was a Starfleet Officer and a trained killer. He was also a creature of Hell who could remorselessly murder his own sister. A killer took care of it for you, and I’m glad he did.” his tone gentled then a bit, though he maintained his resolve. “You don’t need to wield a knife yourself, but if you want to, I can teach you exactly where Lady Lavigne’s heart is.”

She rolled her beautiful blue eyes and shook her head slightly. “Give me some credit, Khalon, I’m not actually as stupid as people seem to think. I wasn’t about to armor up and go storming onto his ship to take him on one on one. I wanted him captured and brought to me. His life was mine to take and that chance was taken from me.”

She looked away, quiet again. She hadn’t voiced it to anyone until now; she had played the happy fiance gushing about her hero of the empire husband to be… but part of her resented Sacha - yet part of her loved the way he wanted to rescue her.

Khalon listened with curious eyes and a relaxed face, taking in every detail of her and doing very little to mask his obvious attraction.

“Ah, I see.” he said, and he did. He understood why she would want to do it herself, and knew that the choice had been taken from her. A certain instinct in his mind tempted him to play on the resentment he saw, but he shook it off. He wanted her, but he wasn’t here to make her life any harder by irritating a wound in her relationship. “Whatever you want in this situation, I’ll get it for you. I don’t need to prove myself, but if you want me to do so, I will. If you want to handle it yourself, I can understand that.”

“I’m more concerned about Montreve. I believe my uncle can be made to heel with the right pressure applied, but I wouldn’t be surprised if my other uncle isn’t some quiet agitator under all of this. He’s terribly jealous of my father and very upset he wasn’t put on the regency council.” Giana reached out and ran her fingertips over the rim of the crystal glass.

“Montreve is the biggest concern, yes, but she also makes a bigger splash if she falls. It’s bigger than you need, but maybe that’s what you want to go for.” He responded, then finally reached for the glass. Pulling it to his lips, he took a slow sip before looking back at her. “Didn’t your uncle just have a heart attack?”

“He did, but I never underestimate the determination of a fool to do foolish things.” Giana shrugged slightly. “Montreve isn’t family, considering our recent loss I would ideally like to spare the other two, though I could do without Sacha’s mother. So could he.”

“She’ll assume she’s safe because of your family connection, but she doesn’t have nearly the support Montreve does.” He responded. “Kill any of them, the others scatter like roaches. I get it, though, your golden-haired marine probably wouldn’t like you ordering his mother’s death.”

“He might surprise you.” Giana’s brows raised momentarily then relaxed again. “I’m concerned about my soft-hearted mother and Ramsay though.”

“Neither of them said a word when your father murdered half the Council a few months ago.” Khalon said, waving his hand. “But fine, let them go on being soft. Incorrigible Lord Price decided to solve this problem all on his own, if you have a pardon for him. But, even if you don’t, the monarchy is at stake. I’d rather be executed by your government than watch the Empire fall to..people with ballots in their hands.”

He ignored the comment about Sacha. Unlike her fiancé, he adored his mother and would kill any person who hurt her. Silently, he wondered what effect that maternal hatred had on him. He also caught her admission that her uncle’s heart attack was anything but a tragic natural event. Someone had tried to teach that old man a lesson, and it seemed Giana didn’t think he was a quick study.

“I still find it hard to believe you’re doing this out of pure altruism. I also don’t know how effective it will be if the others are not aware that it was me.” Giana pointed out and sighed, tired but considering her options. She looked over to Khalon more directly then, her eyes moving over his face and body slowly. He was definitely her type and he wasn’t shy about the way he presented himself.

“Be confident, Your Highness. You can have everything you want if you just go about it the right way.” He said, his polished shoe moving closer to her leg. “Never let anyone tell you no who doesn’t have the power to tell you yes, and these opportunists don’t have the power to tell you yes.”

He sipped the water again before leaning and putting it down on the table half finished. He looked at her, his eyes moving from her eyes to her legs, and then to her eyes again. He was sitting with her and talking one on one like he imagined when he was a preteen. Life could be funny sometimes.

“Fine. Maybe cutting a lady’s throat is a bit much for your situation right now. Just say the word and I’ll get my hands on one of the senators. You can send a strong message to the free voters and even some of the ones in your enemies pockets, and your fellow Regents probably won’t even care very much.”

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. I will give it some thought.” She placed her hands down on the arms of her chair and looked forward, letting out a slow breath. “You ask me what I wanted, I want for people to stop thinking I am some stupid, vapid girl and realize I am the daughter of Emperor fucking Antonius Angelo Giuseppe Orsini Augustus Italicus.”

“Then act like it.” he said, his eyes remaining on her. “Show them who you are, and act like the daughter of the Emperor. That means being a butcher. The thing that used to make an Emperor powerful among the Terrans was for him, or her, to fucking kill anyone who stands in her way.” His tone was pointed, and his challenge was certainly not erudite as it would have been from Paulo or Ramsay, professional as it would have been from CJ, or casual like it would have been from Sacha. “Who gives a fuck how your mother and Ramsay feel really? You’re the one in charge of the legislature now, right? So be Antonius' daughter. Tell Cyrus Sharp to have Montreve arrested, or let me handle it.”

“You aren’t wrong, but in the same breath I am sharing power with them due to my father’s… arrangement of things. They could come together to depose me and they nearly did after Giuseppe, I think. I am not sure that I would survive stepping out of their sandbox again.” She flexed her fingers into the fabric of the chair. “They could depose me, and then nothing would get done and we really would have a weak government.”

“I’m not understanding why you’re so sure they would disagree with what we’re proposing.” he said, calm, but insistent. He didn’t think of politics this way, as he had always been raised to idealize the Empire at its height under Hoshi I and Hoshi II. Questions about reaching a consensus annoyed him, and he didn’t pretend they didn’t. But he knew Giana had always done what was expected of her, and as honest as he liked to be, he didn’t think it would help to push her. “Can’t you, like…talk to them or something?”

“My mother is too soft and Richard may very well simply want to be contrary to me though we have perhaps… mended that tendency a bit. He is more cautious though and would likely want to try appeasement before anything so drastic.” The more she considered it, the more she wondered if her father knew this was how things were going to go and why he would have wanted it that way.

“Okay, damnit.” he said, pursing his lips and smiling a bit. “Well we could bribe the Senators. It’s not the bang I was hoping for, and it’ll cost you millions of crowns, but that’s an option to get the Senate past the 50 percent mark.”

He yawned then, his eyes trailing away from her. He hated politics on some level, no matter how much he cared. He wanted to talk about anything else with her, to be honest, but they were stuck in on this.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Giana. But I’m ready to act whenever you say. But I do want to say that this Regency Council thing is turning out to be pretty fucking stupid.”

“Funny, you read my mind. Actually things likely would have been much simpler if they had remained as they were… but then you seduced my little sister and spirited her off to Mars so she can knit and kiss orphans or whatever she does.” Giana shook her head and rolled her eyes.

“She does love orphans, I’ll admit that.” he said with a chuckle, licking his lips again. “But I didn’t mean to seduce her, really. She and I disagree about everything, really. But she has a little crush and she needed a friend. Add the lavish Martian Compound your family owns to the mix and the distance from you and the rest of your family, and it's the perfect getaway home for a reclusive princess. I was a convenient excuse, as the Empire knows of my charm.”

He winked at her suggestively and playfully, reaching over and nudging her bare leg with his hand for an instant, feeling the give of her soft skin and toned muscle.

“And I couldn’t believe it when the stupid RZI tabloid-fueled rumors about us dating got me a seat on the Council of Lords. After that, I just let them talk. If I wanted to control the Empire, by the way, I could have just told her to stay here and keep the job. Though, if you think Elana Orsini would be okay with you and me working together at all, you’re crazy. But, especially, us working together to kill unruly lords.. I’ll bet she’s ten times more against that than Ramsay might be. I’ve legitimately seen your sister cry over roadkill.”

“You’d assume she would be around at all. I would just have to fight my mother and Elana would just be informed and agree.” Giana waved a hand dismissively. “As for the rumors, well, I can’t say I blame them. You come onto the scene a known playboy and charmer, and within a week you have a pet princess and a seat on the council. You can’t say that doesn’t look suspicious, and you certainly can’t expect me to believe you did it out of the goodness of your heart because she needed a friend; I know how obnoxious she is.”

Khalon laughed, his white teeth showing, and his handsome face indicating his unreserved amusement.

“I’d say you’re flattering me, but I know you won’t believe it.” he said through the laughter. “And I reject the title of playboy. That’s disgusting. I don’t use women in any way they don’t want me to. And, regardless of how hard it is to believe that a princess just fell into my lap, you did say I’m a charmer after all. And I have a little bit more patience for an obnoxious princess than I might for someone else. I’m a little ashamed to admit that, but there it is, I guess.”

He looked at her and smiled.

“How about I charm another one on purpose and see if it's skill or luck?”

“See, Khalon, I have a hard time believing that you wanted me half as bad as you say you did. I was single and available for over a decade and you never once darkened my door or presented yourself, yet now that I’m engaged… you want me.” She put her elbow on the arm of the chair and her chin in her hand, looking up at him through her long dark lashes.

“And you say you aren’t a playboy. My sister thinks things are going so well with you two, according to my mother.”

“Did she say that?” he asked, the curiosity at the suggestion obvious. He didn’t seem completely oblivious of the fact she liked him, but he was surprised she had mentioned it to her family that way. “I was in Starfleet that entire time. I came back the second your boyfriend did, though. It’s not fair and you should definitely feel bad for me.”

He leaned over on his hand as well, leaving them closer than anyone with half a mind would advise them to be.

“You laughed at my embarrassing story earlier. According to our agreement, that means you have to grant me one wish.”

“Hmm did I? I don’t believe I did at all, though I did laugh at the notion that you’re over me.” She smirked but didn’t move. If she were being honest, she was enjoying the playful, flirting banter with him. There was a certain sparkle in her beautiful blue eyes as she held his gaze. “But I’ll humor you your wish.”

“Okay, you caught me.” he said, grinning charmingly. “I’m not over you one hundred percent, I’ll admit it. But, as for the request..”

He looked down at her lips and allowed his gaze to linger there for a moment before finding her dazzling blue eyes again.

“Every night I used to kiss that picture of you goodnight.” he said, and let that fact linger in the air for several silent seconds, “But plastic, two-dimensional Giana wasn’t engaged. So I’m going to downgrade my wish to a hug. Is that cool with you?”

“Mmm….” She seemed to consider a moment and then leaned a little closer, the feeling of her breath on his lips as she spoke again. “Is that all you did with my picture, Khalon?”

Khalon didn’t hesitate or back away from the incredible intimacy and closeness of their interaction. And despite some very obvious and impressive tenting in his expensive pants and his almost painful glances at her lips, he seemed to be holding himself back from crossing the final inch. He smiled instead, the speed of his breath increasing. He was very attracted to her, and he wasn’t going to pretend otherwise.

“That’s it, yeah.” he said, “but I’m not going to lie. You used to make my mind wander a bit.”

“Uh huh.” Giana remained right where she was for a few more beats which potentially could have been seen as deliberately tempting him, but she pulled back before anything foolish could happen. “How long are you staying here?”

When she retreated, he seemed genuinely disappointed for a moment, but then wiped the expression from his face. He knew it wasn’t right for it to go any further. He leaned back himself and pulled the tent of his pants to conceal his manhood, but it wasn’t the kind of appendage he could hid at the moment. He grinned at her, completely confident and calm about the whole thing, and just relaxed and let it stay where it was.

“After this meeting, I was planning on winging my stay and scheduling it around what you wanted to do with..you know, the political situation.” He bit his lip and looked at her, but pressed on with what he was saying. “But I have meetings and events on Mars waiting for me and I’ve spent a lot of time away from it all. Why do you ask?”

“Mars can wait. Why don’t you come and join me for dinner? I want to think about what we discussed today and I’ll make a decision by this evening.” She offered easily. Sacha wasn’t going to be around and it was perfectly acceptable in her position to entertain someone she was trying to curry favor with - or the other way around.

Khalon looked surprised, his eyebrows shooting up and his mouth hanging open slightly. Then it turned into an obviously pleased smile.

“Hells yes, I’ll join you for dinner.” He said, clapping his hands once and actually doing a dance in his seat. “Name the time and place.”

Giana’s brows lifted at his reaction, but she was clearly both pleased and mildly amused by it. Maybe it was all lies, but he certainly was convincing about it and she was enjoying it. “Here at the Pyramid tonight. One of my assistants will meet you when you return.”

“I’ll be here.” He said, winking at her and standing up, the problem in his pants gone for the most part, though the outline was still there. “Now, the big question is do I get my hug now or not?”

“Do you want to trade your dinner for a hug now?” Giana challenged mildly as she stood and smoothed out the middle of her dress.

He seemed to think for a few seconds, before looking back up at her. His expression was guilty and comical.

“Just a little bit.” He said smoothly. “But I’m going to trust that dinner would be better. You seem more excited about that option anyways.”

“We’ll go with I’m the excited one despite what your pants say, sure.” Giana shook her head but was still smiling as she indicated toward the door. “It was good meeting with you, Lord Price. I will see you later tonight but for now you must excuse me. I have more meetings.”

“Hey, I should get bonus points for enthusiasm.” He said before adjusting his pants and jacket and making sure he was neat and crisp. “Your Highness.”

He turned, and with a final glance at her, head to toe, he stepped out of the room.

END
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