Stargazing
I WAS USELESS to Prince Aureli that day.
Astrid had kept me up exceptionally late.
By the time I’d satisfied her to the point where she’d fallen asleep, I had maybe three hours to rest. Not that I particularly minded – it was an incredible night – but it left me less than fighting fit.
I wasn’t twenty anymore. I couldn’t spend all night having energetic sex, down an espresso and a shot of cheap whiskey, then go ace two exams and win a battleball match.
The day was a blur. I can’t even remember what we did.
Something on the ocean below the palace.
We all flew down to the pier to load onto boats which sped out onto the water, but the rocking of the waves quickly lulled me to sleep.
Someone shoved me into a corner where hopefully my snoring did not disturb anyone until a nervous hordling awakened me upon our return to shore.
A quick cup of stim, a thorough going-over and change of wardrobe – compliments of Wiktor – and I felt nearly human by dinnertime.
After dinner, I didn’t know if Astrid still wished to rendezvous.
I wasn’t certain it was sensible to see her myself, but a decade-dormant chamber of my heart yearned for her, so I lingered in the public foyer should she decide she wanted me.
I waited for an obnoxiously long time, nearly closing out the bar before giving up the ghost and going to bed.
Doing my best to hide my dejection, I strolled aimlessly back to the Commonwealth chambers.
It was probably for the best she hadn’t called me, after the brutal way she’d dispatched one of my erstwhile allies.
As I quietly padded my way through the common room, doing my best not to wake my fellow Royal diplomats, something knocked gently on the glass windowpane.
I stopped, and it knocked again, quietly, but insistently.
I took a step towards my bedchamber, intent on getting some shut-eye, but the knocking intensified, so I turned on my heel.
I strode to the window, threw it open, and looked with shock upon the grinning wolfish face of an Imperial hordling dangling outside.
“Good evening, sir. Message for you.”
Nonplussed, I accepted the hordling’s proffered note. Curious, I leaned my head out the window. It was at least a hundred-foot drop to the moat below. Turning around, I saw the hordling was suspended from a cable attached to the roof above.
“How long have you been out here?” I asked.
“Hours, sir. I was told to wait until you returned. I had expected it to be somewhat sooner than this.”
I felt a pang of guilt for loitering in the drinking parlor for so long. “I was at the bar.”
“Yes, sir, we know. So was everyone else who wished to see if the Emperor would summon you again tonight.”
“Oh.” It made perfect sense when the hordling explained it to me.
“Sir, if you don’t mind, the Emperor is waiting for your reply.”
“Oh, right.” Quickly, I flipped the paper over in my hand and broke the wax seal, unfolding the letter.
The note was simple.
Dearest Levar, I miss you. Meet me tonight in the North Alpine Clearing so we can look upon the stars as we did during our Academy days. Astrid.
I lowered the letter. “I don’t know where the North Alpine Clearing is.”
“Don’t worry, sir. I do.”
“How will I get out? The door is watched,” I protested.
“Yes, sir.” Silently, another cable slithered down from above.
I stared at the hordling. “It’s a hundred-foot climb.”
“We thought of that too, sir.” The cable started to wind upwards again. “We brought a basket.”
I reached out and took the cable in my fist, stopping it. “I’ll risk the climb.”
A hundred feet later, I knew I’d made a mistake. I hadn’t climbed a rope since my Academy physical classes, and my arms ached. I made it to the ground safely, but had to drop the last six feet or so before my grip gave out on me, and I botched the landing, rolling onto my back and mussing my tunic.
The hordling descended lightly beside me, stretching only briefly to relieve the kinks of several hours spent hanging in a harness. “Right, sir. Follow me,” he said, then lurched off towards the trees.
We hiked uphill for the next twenty minutes.
I wished I’d thought to bring my cloak. My mess dress jacket was insufficient to ward off the chill of a nighttime alpine hike.
I also wished I’d changed into a good pair of marching boots.
My tall cavalry boots looked smart, but were terrible for trekking over forest paths.
The high heel placed my foot at an awkward angle on roots and rocks, and I could tell I was accumulating a shocking collection of scratches and scuffs for Wiktor to buff out in the morning.
All thoughts of scuffed boots vanished when we reached the clearing. “Here you are, sir,” the hordling said, then vanished into the darkness, leaving me alone to approach the Emperor.
Astrid lay on a wide blanket spread out on the ground, propped up on her elbow, staring at me with a hungry smile. She wore a cylindrical silver fur hat which matched the trim of her starry black cloak, and a small wooden chest stood behind her.
She patted the blanket beside her. “Levar, glad you could join me.”
“My apologies. I was lingering in the common areas. I didn’t realize my invitation lay in the Commonwealth suite. I hope I’ve not kept you waiting long,” I said as I approached.
“Not long at all. I was in my bedchamber until my hordlings told me you were on your way.” She shifted slightly, then pulled back her fur-lined cloak. “See? I didn’t even have time to change out of my pajamas.”
I stopped short, the blood rapidly draining from my head.
Underneath those warm furs, she wore a camisole and matching short pants in deep indigo satin.
The shifting of her body called attention to the silver-white lace trim, brilliant in the starlight when compared to the darker silver-grey of her furs, and only just darker than her skin.
Even the subtlest of movement caused the thin silk to slide over her body in a tantalizing fashion, summoning me closer.
Astrid giggled at my reaction, revealing a glimpse of pearly-white teeth. “You look so cold, standing there. Why don’t you join me under my cloak? It’s roomy enough, I promise.”
Every base instinct in my body called me to accept her invitation, and my romantic past concurred, but my brain summoned the image of Astrid pulling a man’s heart from his chest, snarling as his blood splattered across her face, and my feet hesitated.
Astrid’s smile faltered, and her eyebrows knitted in momentary worry. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you happy to see me?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “That depends on whether or not you plan to make love to me or rip my heart from my chest.”
Her smile returned as she laughed in relief. “Don’t be stupid. I only tear the hearts from my enemies. You could never be an enemy of mine.”
Her response was far from reassuring. When we first met, she threatened to gut me like a boar if I dared touch her again when I’d only pulled her from the path of a juvenile prankster’s plate of stinking stew.
It had taken weeks of classes together for her to warm to me.
What if she decided my allies were more important than our past?
Still, it was chilly, and she did look inviting. Gingerly, I stepped onto the blanket, then sat next to her. Astrid draped a fold of her silver fur cloak around my shoulders, then turned to the chest behind her. A few clinking seconds later, she held a bottle and two horn mugs.
“Spiced honeywine. Perfect for stargazing on a night like tonight,” she said, her eyes sparkling again.
I looked skywards. It was actually a rather poor night for stargazing.
Three moons were up, the planetary rings shone brightly, and the aurora shimmered between us and the twinkling motes of light beyond, washing out all but the brightest stars.
Still, that was no reason to ruin Astrid’s happy moment, so I accepted a mug and let her pour a full serving of steaming liquid.
It did smell wonderful, and tasted divine.
Astrid leaned against me, her left hand reaching around so her arm pressed against my back as she sipped from the mug in her right hand. I could feel the curve of her breast against my arm as she looked at the sky in wonder.
“What shapes do you see up there?” she asked.
I looked skywards again, but with the moons and the aurora washing out the sky, there weren’t enough stars to form a constellation. What I could see clearly were the bright dots of warships passing over us.
“I see a battleship,” I said.
Astrid’s forehead wrinkled as she searched the skies for the outline of a starship. “Where?”
“There.” I pointed at one winking point of light as it sped across the heavens. “Or maybe an assault carrier. Low orbit, going for speed.”
Astrid’s lips tightened. “That’s not a star.”
“No, it’s not,” I agreed. “There’s another one, polar orbit.
Probably performing a ground survey, looking for military installations.
And look, that dark shadow, that’s an Imperial suborbital satellite balloon.
Stationary surveillance station, probably positioned directly over the Crystal Palace to protect you. ”
Astrid pulled back from me. “Levar, we’re supposed to be looking at the stars. You used to love finding pictures in the stars.”
“Well, I can’t see many stars in this light. My eyes can’t see ultraviolet like yours,” I replied, hugging my knees.
Gamely, Astrid tried again. “Not even those ones? Look over there. I think that collection looks like an old woman in a chair.”
I followed her finger, but I could only see a pair of winking stars. “I’m sorry. The moons are too bright.” I sipped my mead.
“What about Earth?” Astrid asked. “Where’s old Earth from here?”