A Crimson Dagger

Posted on Sat Dec 28th, 2024 @ 11:23pm by Princess Royal Giana Orsini & Count Raoul Orsini Hale, Lord of Brazil & Lord Khalon Price

Mission: Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location: Mars
Timeline: Date 2371-09-24 at 1830
10510 words - 21 OF Standard Post Measure

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