3 Courtly Introductions #2
“You’re dressed far more fashionably than the rest of your countrymen. Your dress fits properly, for one, and your jewelry is on the demure side,” I heard my mouth say as though it belonged to someone else.
Instead of responding with anger, Bridgette laughed, placing her free hand on her heaving bosom. “Captain Levar, I am flattered.”
“Flattery implies falsehood, Lady d’Lyre, and I only speak the truth,” I said before thinking, hearing my own words with mounting horror.
However, Bridgette laughed again, giving me a slightly more appraising look. “Boleslaw, where have you been hiding this one? I think he’s going to be amusing.”
Boleslaw inclined her head in acknowledgment. “There’s a reason we bring him to all the fun parties,” she said, then guided me away. I assumed there’d been some invisible signal ending the conversation. I couldn’t tell what it was, but I decided to trust Boleslaw.
As soon as we were out of earshot, Boleslaw playfully punched me in the ribs. “You sly dog. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Neither did I,” I admitted, wondering where I could get a drink to calm my nerves.
“Well, be careful of that one. She looks delectable, but she’ll eat you alive,” Boleslaw said, her tone turning serious with warning.
“Don’t worry,” I assured her. “I think she’s eyeing a far bigger meal than I.”
Boleslaw followed my eyes to Lady d’Lyre, then hers to Prince Aureli, Duke of Lynwyzc, happily talking to a small crowd of adoring onlookers, champagne in hand.
“Don’t worry about Prince Aureli. He can handle her.
But you two haven’t been introduced.” Before I could utter a word of protest, Boleslaw slipped a hand around my elbow and pulled me inexorably towards the prince, fourth in line to the Royal Commonwealth’s throne.
Prince Aureli, Duke of Lynwyzc, the Star of Neovilno, Light of New Warsaw, and ladies’ man extraordinaire, was a silver fox.
He’d aged so gracefully one wondered if he’d been born to be fifty-six rather than twenty-five.
Technically the uncle to our glorious Queen, Prince Aureli was a proud gentleman on the wrong side of middle age, but looking all the better for it.
His amber skin had wrinkled just enough to enhance his expressions, and the silver streaks overcoming his black hair gave him a distinguished gravitas.
His mess dress uniform, brilliant in royal crimson with black facings, was tailored to a powerful form, and his motions were filled with the careless grace of serious athleticism.
“Relius,” Colonel Boleslaw called, and Prince Aureli turned, one speckled silver-black eyebrow raised.
“Tiku, you old bastard. Where have you been? I’ve been forced to entertain these fine young ladies by myself for the past three hours. I’m at the end of my conversation. Where do you think that puts me?” the prince replied.
“Right where you want to be,” Boleslaw responded with a suggestive waggle of her thin eyebrows. The assembled women tittered, apparently agreeing with the colonel’s assessment.
Boleslaw adopted a slightly more formal aspect, straightening her spine and rolling her shoulders back. “However, I do have somebody I must introduce to you. Prince Aureli, may I present Sky Captain Levar Boylan, 343rd Cavalry Wing, Logistical Corps.”
“Ah, so you’re the one who banged an Imp baroness,” the prince said, his eyes scanning me faster than a security sweep. “You certainly took your sweet time getting here. We thought you wouldn’t make it.”
I bowed, trying to conceal my blush. So he knew why I was here.
Did he know the baroness had been promoted to Emperor, or just that I had loved an Imperial noblewoman once?
“Your Highness, my apologies. I’m afraid I only became aware of the situation yesterday.
Thirty hours ago, I was shoring up defenses on Wallawalla. ”
The prince ignored my excuse with a sip from his champagne. “So, Boylan, I’m told you have personal knowledge of the Imperial female. Any advice you could offer an aspiring diplomat?”
This was a question for which I had actually prepared. “Be strong, but in subtle, confident ways. Wearing a sword is better than brandishing it. One who wears a sword declares he can use it. One who waves a sword declares he needs it.”
The prince raised his eyebrows at this, scanned my battered combat blades, then looked at Boleslaw. “An actual nugget of useful advice. Perhaps he’s not such a waste of space as you thought.”
Boleslaw bowed her head slightly. “Right again, Relius. I’m certain the captain will prove himself a font of usefulness.”
I was hurt. Not only were they talking about me like I wasn’t there, but for all her welcoming behavior, the companionable Boleslaw had apparently not wanted me to attend the coronation festivities. The Queen herself wanted me here – who was Boleslaw to decide I would be useless in this endeavor?
However, I said nothing. I often said nothing when I was hurt. It was better than risking saying something stupid.
“Captain Boylan, I see your hand is empty. How about a drink?” the prince said.