20 Royal Decrees #2
Wiktor led me to a quiet corner behind some stacked crates where I could swiftly exchange outfits.
The hunting suit Wiktor had provided was a great improvement over my replicated set.
It looked like combat fatigues made from dress kit cloth.
The tan riding breeches had large patch pockets on either leg, and the four-pocket emerald-green tunic fit well under the brown leather belt and shoulder straps which held my weapons.
The cross-straps across the back were a particularly elegant touch, I thought.
“How did you know I’d need a hunting outfit?” I asked as Wiktor minutely adjusted the lay of my belt and straps and smoothed my tunic.
Wiktor pushed his lower lip forwards in mild approval at his work. “I’ve told you before, sir, a gentleman’s gentleman must always anticipate their gentleman’s needs.”
“But the Emperor only announced the hunt this morning. Everyone else here is in a panic.” A thought struck me. “Did the Emperor send word for me to be properly attired?”
“I would love to discuss my trade secrets with you, an uninitiated outsider. However, I’m afraid the prince wishes to see you at your earliest convenience.”
I glanced at the taciturn guard over my shoulder, wondering if she would prevent me from speaking with my prince.
We’d been told to get Tilly and rendezvous with the Emperor’s party as quickly as possible, but I had duties to my monarch, and Astrid had asked me to watch my own people for any spies who would seek to disrupt the negotiations.
“Lead the way,” I said, and walked off. A moment later, Ankhelina followed me.
I followed my valet past the other Allied delegations to the Royal Commonwealth’s assigned stables, but changed directions when I spotted familiar uniforms on the motor pool floor with their retrieved mounts.
The gathered representatives stood in a loose ring near the motor pool’s big hangar door, their hoversteeds resting quiescently by their sides.
As soon as I saw the prince by his gold-trimmed mount in his spotless white uniform, I doubted he wanted to see me at all.
“Captain Boylan, where did you get a hunting outfit?” the prince exclaimed, regarding me much as one would regard an unappetizing dinner course which had twitched unsettlingly.
His mouth stayed tight as he rapidly searched for something to say.
When his eyes reached my hip, they practically popped out of his head. “What on Earth are you wearing?”
My annoyance was piqued by the prince’s attitude. I had returned from the dead, insisted Astrid return me to Aureli so I could assist him in his negotiations, and he treated me like a naughty dog returning to its master covered in muck. So I decided to be slightly obtuse.
“It’s my hunting outfit. Do you like it?”
“Is that a lancer on your hip?” Prince Aureli demanded.
I gave the prince a level look. “Yes, it is.” It was a damned fine lancer too, with a silver-inlaid ivory handle and gold engraving around the blued damascene barrels.
The demon artisans had compressed the complicated barrel cooling system into a tiny volume, far smaller than any replicated weapon could achieve, producing a four-barreled pistol which weighed as much as a standard-issue two-shot Commonwealth sidearm.
It was a work of art as well as a lethal weapon.
Many of my waistbelt’s pouches contained extra lancer shells set in four-round clips for faster loading.
“Have you gone insane? You’ll have us ejected from the conference. Lancers are strictly forbidden in the Emperor’s presence.”
“This lancer was a gift from the Emperor. She told me to wear it,” I said coolly. “I rather think that overrides any previous provisions regarding acceptable armament.”
“What happened to you?” Colonel Boleslaw asked, forestalling the prince’s next comment and giving the royal a chance to calm his nerves.
I saw no point in hiding the truth from them. “I got shot.”
“By whom?”
“An Imperial guardsman.”
Boleslaw’s eyes flicked to the guard standing behind me. “And what happened to him?”
“The Emperor executed him,” I said dryly before continuing. “I spent the evening on an Imperial medical cruiser while they grew me a new heart.”
“A new heart?” I nodded. “A human heart?”
I raised an eyebrow. “That depends on how broadly you define humanity.”
I expected a disgusted reaction, or maybe a fearful one, but I was not prepared for the prince’s laughter.
“That explains it. Captain, you’re obviously under the influence of your new organ.
Who knows what the Imps put in there? You are to retire to the Commonwealth suites at once to await medical examination. ”
It was a reasonable and level-headed response, one which I ordinarily would have supported, but Ankhelina explained the obstacle before I could.
“The Emperor has commanded Levar Boylan to attend today’s hunt.”
Prince Aureli gave Ankhelina a dismissive glance. “Captain Boylan is not the Emperor’s to command. He’s my subordinate. Now, Captain, go wait in the suites.”
The guard’s gigantic hand pressed against my back in the demonic sign of support as she stepped forwards to tower over the prince. “Do not presume to command those who belong to the Emperor.”
“Belong to?” Boleslaw asked. “Captain Boylan is a Royal Commonwealth citizen. He cannot be sold into bondage.”
“Do you think to call the Emperor’s Consort a slave?” the guard demanded.
Prince Aureli, Colonel Boleslaw, and the other assembled Commonwealth notables all stared at me, utterly flabbergasted.
Boleslaw was the first to speak. “You are the Imperial Consort?”
“The Emperor’s Consort,” Ankhelina corrected.
“What’s the difference?” Prince Aureli tossed off dismissively.
“He’s not fucking the entire Empire. Just the Emperor,” Ankhelina said.
The Duke of Lynwyzc gave Ankhelina a look more suited to the things he scraped off the bottom of his boots, while Boleslaw fell into a pleasant smile I knew repressed a snigger. At a loss for what to do, I gave my best half-remembered courtly bow. “Consort Captain Levar Boylan, at your service.”
“It is an official title? This is not some informal honorific?” the prince asked.
I looked questioningly at Ankhelina, who nodded, before I confirmed the prince’s supposition. “I have been given no titles of land, nor position in government, nor rank in the Imperial peerage…” I began to explain.
“So you are now an Imperial noble,” the prince said, the phrase more a statement than a question.
I did not like the tenor of this conversation. “The consortship grants no real Imperial authority. It’s not an official position…”
“Then explain how you are the official Consort of the Emperor?” the prince asked.
Frustrated, I ran my hand through my hair.
“That only means I’m the one person always allowed into her bed.
Demons don’t sleep around like we do – they take a spouse for marital alliances, and designate a consort to satisfy their romantic urges.
It’s all above-board and legal to prevent any unnecessary duels of honor. ”
“So your consortship has legal backing?” Prince Aureli asked.
Warning bells ringing in my brain, I nodded.
Prince Aureli drew himself up, his grey eyes hard beneath his silvered hair. “This is precisely why I did not want you sleeping around and performing diplomatic reconnaissance. You were supposed to seduce our enemies to our cause, but it is you who has been seduced into the Emperor’s camp.”
“Just because I succeeded where you failed does not mean I’ve joined the Empire, just that the Emperor would rather make love to me than tolerate you.”
The assembled Commonwealth notables fell completely silent, but Prince Aureli himself smirked, his eyes twinkling victoriously.
“And now you disrespect your betters. Clearly, you cannot be trusted to negotiate for the Commonwealth in good faith. Even were it not against Commonwealth law for a Royal citizen to possess a foreign title of nobility, common sense would force me to banish you from my court. Until you formally renounce your Imperial office, you may not contribute to the Commonwealth’s diplomatic efforts, nor will you be allowed inside our national suite.
Your commission shall be retired and your items gathered and sent to you, insofar as what items you have which were not issued by the state.
” He gave me a haughty glare. “I bid you good day, Mister Boylan.”