7 Nocturnal Prelude
NOCTURNAL PRELUDE
I STOOD NEXT to a crystalline pillar, sipping a coupe of post-opera champagne as I observed Prince Aureli chatting amiably with a Federation magnate.
Lady d’Lyre hung happily on his arm. I waited to appear at his elbow should he fall into conversation with an Imp, but hid out of sight, not wanting to draw further ire.
After the races, I’d found Aureli and asked if he required additional assistance.
“If it’s like the assistance you offered me this morning, don’t bother.
” It seemed my advice had been misplaced.
The Emperor had preferred speculating on hoversteed specifications rather than discussing the riders’ capabilities.
I reminded the prince that my information was twelve years old, and some preferences were bound to have changed.
Aureli’s response was cold. “Yes, well, if you prove useless to me here, we can always send you back to the star front to get some use out of you.”
The afternoon had been an exercise in frustration as everyone played cards and conversed while liveried demons summoned various notables to tea with the Emperor.
I was too low-ranked to warrant a summons, and Prince Aureli had not chosen to bring me along, so I hadn’t had a chance to speak with Astrid again.
I saw her at dinner, seated at her raised table, and again at the opera in her Imperial box, but her eyes had never drifted my way.
Maybe I was wrong and the brief spark we’d shared while dancing last night was nothing more than friction, but dammit!
It had felt so much like the warmth we’d shared back at the Academy.
Someone leaned against the pillar behind me, sending a cascade of rainbow ripples flashing around its surface. “Quite a performance, don’t you think?”
I looked back over my shoulder, expecting to see a couple talking among themselves. To my astonishment, there was not an amorous pair, but Archduke Darius, his glittering green eyes staring into mine as he sipped something pink from his own coupe glass.
Deciding he actually was addressing me, I replied, “I’m afraid my mastery of the Imperial dialect is rather rusty, and never that good to begin with.”
Sliding forwards to stand beside me, the archduke smiled. “That doesn’t matter. Could you not feel Tanasha’s anguish when she had to declare vengeance against her beloved? The stunning interplay between love and hate, as she is, in turn, drawn to and repelled by Dorukan’s behavior?”
I sipped my champagne again. “To be honest, I didn’t get that. Imperial opera relies too much on the aria, and one round of soulful wailing sounds much like the next when sung in a foreign tongue.”
Darius shrugged and turned to look out at the crowd. “A shame. You should learn the language. Imperial opera has some of the most genuinely emotional sagas I’ve ever had the pleasure to experience.”
I nodded politely and waited for him to move away, confident he could have nothing more to say to me, but Archduke Darius stayed where he was, leaning casually against the pillar with his drink cradled in hand.
I could have moved myself, but I needed to stay close to Prince Aureli, and this was the most convenient location I could find.
Finally, I turned to the archduke. “Excuse me, Your Grace, but do you need something from me?”
“Some pleasing conversation would be nice.” I raised my eyebrow, and he continued, “Nobody here will talk to me.”
“I’m not surprised,” I said before I could think twice about it.
The archduke’s shapely black eyebrows drew in. “What do you mean?”
I was stuck in it now. “Well, everyone on the Allied side thinks you a traitor, while the Imperials look down on you for being an ordinary human. Assuming you are human and not part-demon or celestial or something.”
“I wish,” Darius replied. “Imagine the conversation starters.”
“Most people in the Allied star systems take pride in their pure human heritage,” I said in return. I did not, in particular, but it interested me to see someone who wished to possess heritage from the pre-Fall bioengineering projects.
“Most people are idiots,” the archduke shot back darkly. “Who wouldn’t want wings or gills or the ability to survive in hellish environments? I see no nobility in honoring one’s genetic weaknesses for the sake of illusory purity.”
“An interesting counterpoint,” I conceded, then exchanged my empty glass with a fresh one from a server’s tray to give me time to think. “The way you raced today, I would have thought you had something extra in your genes.”
Darius laughed. “Nothing except a misspent youth racing hoversteeds. But you enjoyed the races?”
“Very much. I wish I could have participated.”
“I was expecting you to. I would think a battle-hardened cavalryman could outfly a bunch of aging senior officers,” Darius responded.
“Possibly, but I ride a military hoversteed. Your machines would leave mine in the dust.”
Darius gave a cavalier wave of his hand. “So borrow another machine.”
I gave him a patronizing look. “Your Grace, you are too good a rider to say such foolish things. It takes time to mold a rider to their steed. Besides, my current mount would get jealous.” Darius gave me a quizzical look, and I explained about Tilly’s SI.
“Fascinating. And you say it’s imprinted on you?” he asked.
“Tilly won’t let anyone but me ride her.”
“Where I’m from, that would be considered a serious defect,” Darius remarked.
“Yes, well, we in the Commonwealth have a greater respect for emergent SI,” I said, a hint of acid in my voice.
“As you should. It’s something I hope to change in my tsardom once I ascend to the throne.
I wish I could share a bond with my mount the way you do.
” As my chest swelled with pride, Darius threw back his drink, then signaled for another.
“But enough about me. What about you? The Royal Commonwealth is a big place. Where are you from?”
“My family estates are in the Perthian system,” I said, trying to keep my voice neutral as my pride deflated.
I watched as he mentally consulted a star map. Then his eyes went wide. “Perthia. But that’s…”
“In Imperial-occupied territory, yes,” I confirmed. “The system fell during the initial blitz. We didn’t have much in the way of orbital defenses or any garrison to speak of out near the frontier.”
“I hope your people are doing well,” Darius began, but I waved him silent.
“I’m certain they’re fine. I come from a family of landowners, not nobles, and even the Empire, brutal as they are on the battlefield, treat civilians with tolerable care.
Still, it would be nice to know for sure.
Everything behind Imperial lines is on a communications blackout.
Maybe if the invasion had taken a little longer, they could have gotten off-world.
” I gave the archduke a level look. “We expected the League to last long enough to prepare for an invasion.”
Archduke Darius had enough conscience to look chagrined. “Look, old chap, I’m sorry about all this, but the fortunes of war and all…”
“Indeed.” I let my icy reply lie.
Darius frowned, looking away from me for a moment.
“It’s truly a tragedy we must stand on opposing sides of this conflict.
I never wanted to fight the Commonwealth.
I have nothing but respect and admiration for your government and your people.
I wish we could have been allies, but you chose to stand beside an antiquated agreement with Yezhidia’s most intractable enemy. ”
“I thought the Empire was the common enemy of the League,” I said.
“Oh, my dear fellow, I’m afraid your information is out of date.
” The archduke’s eyes swam with regret as he spoke, as though disillusioning a schoolboy of a childish misbelief.
“The Empire has respected the League’s borders since their defeat two hundred years ago.
The Urgans, on the other hand, nibble away at our star systems, snapping up entire nations too small and isolated to resist. They’ve pressed at Yezhidian space for decades, and nobody, not even the Royal Commonwealth, stepped forwards to stop them. ”
“I thought those nations had fallen to anarchy and were occupied to restore order and a defensible border,” I said in my defense.
Darius smiled sadly. “The only anarchy was the fact that those star systems were not ruled by the Urgan Despotate, and sadly, the Commonwealth had more pressing concerns than who governed a few remote planets hundreds of parsecs away.”
A flush of patriotic pride flared in my heart. “Now see here, do you honestly expect we can be everywhere? That we can swoop in and solve all your problems? We cannot save everybody. You have to put some work in yourselves.”
“We did,” Darius replied softly, reasonably. “We found allies who would stand with us, not betray us.”
I wanted to shout that the Royal Commonwealth had never betrayed an alliance, but before the argument could grow any more heated, somebody coughed at my elbow.
Well, I say my elbow. It was more like somewhere over my left shoulder and above my head.
I turned and saw a towering twelve-foot demoness dressed in the indigo and gold Imperial household livery standing behind me.
“If you’ll excuse me, sir, the Emperor requests your presence for an after-opera brandy.”
I waved for Darius to follow the demonic lady-in-waiting. “Go ahead. Your mistress calls.”
The demon coughed. “I’m sorry, sir, but I was specifically sent to collect you. Not the archduke.”
I gaped, not comprehending. “You must be joking.”
“You are Sky Captain Levar Boylan, of Her Royal Majesty’s 343rd Cavalry Wing, Logistical Corps?” the demon asked. It was only then that I noticed the massive zeroblade-axe strapped over her shoulder and the gigantic multi-barreled lancer pistols hanging at her hips.
I swallowed my sudden fear along with the rest of my champagne. “Nice chatting with you,” I said to Darius, handing him my empty glass. Then I stepped towards the demon. “All right. Take me to her.”