7 Nocturnal Prelude #2
Several servants’ corridors and one express elevator later, I stood outside the Emperor’s private chambers.
The ten-foot guards who flanked her door leaned on zeroblade swordstaffs, not steel halberds, and wore four-barrel lancer pistols on each hip.
One of the quartet stepped forwards. “Your weapons,” he said, extending a clawed hand.
A memory came back to me: Astrid screaming at a theater usher who asked her to give up her swords. Thus motivated, I glared at the guard.
“You would have me stand before your Emperor unarmed?” The guard hesitated, not sure what to do when confronted by a being half his size.
I did not place either hand on my weapons’ hilts, but they stood ready to snatch up a blade on a moment’s notice.
I glared even harder at the guard. “You would disrespect your sovereign so?” The guard’s hand wavered, and I pressed the attack.
“Perhaps I should inform the Emperor you think so little of her that you would strip me, a pitiful human, of my puny blades before allowing me in her presence. Perhaps you think she cannot handle someone like me?”
My offensive was successful. The guard stepped back, his red lips contorted in a disgusted sneer. “You may keep your blades and pass.”
“Thank you.” I bowed sardonically, expressing a confidence I did not possess. Should this guard decide to make an issue, he could overpower me and have my weapons in seconds flat. But he did not know that, and if I expressed competence with my swords, he would assume I had it.
I walked through the opened door and into a chamber of aquatic blues.
Jeweled fish swam in tanks of crystal-clear water taking the place of ordinary walls and casting undulating patterns on the floor.
Seated behind a table of polished marble, inlaid with shimmering gemstone chips, was the Emperor.
She still wore her black gown and platinum crown, but she’d replaced her boots with delicate house slippers, and she wore finger caps rather than her shoulder-length gloves.
“Thank you for coming, Captain. Please, have a seat.” I sat across the table from her, wondering why she’d summoned me. Was this a continuation of yesterday’s dance? A reignition of our romance? Or something else entirely?
The Emperor gestured with her hand, summoning a liveried demon with a decanter and glass on a silver tray. “Brandy?” Despite the friendly offering and intimate setting, her demeanor was detached, professional.
“Yes, thank you,” I replied, then sat in silence as the servant poured me a glass of reddish-amber liquor. Raising the glass to the Emperor, I said, “To your health.”
The Emperor returned my toast, and we sipped our brandies. It was truly excellent. I worried my time here would ruin my taste for cheap liquors when I returned to the star front.
The formalities done, I was at a loss for words. The Emperor had prepared better than I, and she asked, “Are you enjoying your stay? Your accommodations are to your liking?”
My room was small, a servant’s quarters, but it was better than a muddy tent.
“The Crystal Palace is a wonder to behold, and my quarters are far beyond what I’ve grown used to since the Academy.
” I was prepared to bring up our past lives, but a warning flashed in the Emperor’s eyes, and her lips tightened.
I kept my tongue and sipped my brandy to cover the mistake.
“How is your wife?” the Emperor asked. “Has she come with you?”
My heart skipped a beat, remembering our conversations about marriage and consorts at school. “I’m afraid you are mistaken, Your Majesty. I am unmarried.”
It could have been my imagination, but I thought I saw a gleam of satisfaction in Astrid’s eyes when I said I was unwed. “What about your friends? You career Commonwealth officers always have old Academy chums. How do they fair?”
Was Astrid asking about our mutual friends at school?
Was she truly interested in their fates?
If so, she would be disappointed. Keanu and Kulekani were dead.
Maja’s ship had been blown out of space over Kakoda, and no one had heard from Galiza after Caledon’s Lightbridge array was nuked.
My baby sister who’d followed me to war…
I couldn’t send her body home, as the rest of my family and estates were long lost behind enemy lines, but I’d managed to bury her on a Commonwealth world, before we abandoned that planet as well.
The list of our acquaintances’ fates all read much the same.
“I’m afraid there are very few career Commonwealth officers left.
Most are dead. We lead from the front, and your demon lords love to single us out.
We have a disproportionately high officer-casualty rate.
All my school friends are dead or captured.
It’s a minor miracle I remain at liberty and alive.
” I looked down into my lap, conscious of my faux pas.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty. The war has been hard on my military.
Regardless, your forces have treated our civilians with admirable civility, and for that I must thank you. ”
The Emperor had nothing to say in response. She merely sipped her brandy in silence, staring at me.
“I must be honest,” I said, breaking the silence, “I did not expect to receive a private audience, especially not one so late.”
The Emperor hardly moved a muscle in expression. “There are so many people I wish to speak with. If I am to fit them all in, I must make room somewhere in my busy schedule.”
“Ah,” I replied, then asked, “but why speak with someone as lowly ranked as myself?”
The Emperor placed her brandy glass on the table.
“The extremes of any situation are often the most interesting. Of all the attendees at my twelve-year jubilee, excepting servants, you are the lowest ranked, in military, noble, or social connotations. I’ve already spoken with the highest-ranked individuals here.
I am interested to know how the lower ranks find my party. ”
“I apologize for my lack of social advancement,” I said on reflex.
“Not at all, Captain. I merely expected an ambitious veteran of the pre-war army to have advanced further, if purely from survival bias alone.”
I grimaced. I’d been ambitious once, with grand ideas of a political career after a glorious stint in the military. “I’m afraid the supply corps is a poor place to advance one’s prospects.”
“Do explain,” the Emperor commanded.
My mouth ran away from me. “Too many generals and marshals blame their defeats on a lack of supplies, claiming a dearth of ground shuttles or pyromagnetic shells doomed their offensives, not their poor tactics or foolish decisions.”
The Emperor’s eyes hardened. “Surely your government did not believe such lies?”
I gulped, considering my next words carefully. “I was acquitted every time, but it still affected my advancement. The army can’t promote a man with so many marks against his record when there are perfectly unblemished officers available.”
“I see,” the Emperor replied, then gently placed her cordial glass on the table. “So how do you find my soiree? Does it fulfill your every expectation?”
She changed the subject so rapidly that my reply slipped out more petulantly than I meant. “And that’s the only reason you brought me here?” I asked, a hint of yearning in my voice, a starship’s pleading in my heart.
The Emperor raised one perfect golden eyebrow. “What other purpose could I possibly have?”
And there it was. I shuddered slightly, then downed my brandy in a single gulp and stood. “Your party is delightful. I look forward to the coming festivities. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must return to my national delegation. They will wonder where I went.”
The Emperor gazed impassively at me, yet her eyes burned with intensity. I wondered if she would order me to stay, but she waved a hand dismissively. “Very well. Take Captain Boylan back to his quarters.”
She stood as I left. The last I saw of her that evening was her walking deeper into her private suite.