22 Return of the Black Bag
RETURN OF THE BLACK BAG
THE EVENING’S BALL was not held in the ballroom, but on the beach below the Crystal Palace.
Bonfires and torches burned upon the pink sands, and the caught swiftlings were spit-roasted over trenches full of glowing coals.
The delegates were treated to a truly glorious sunset as the binary suns descended beneath the horizon, giving way to a black sky banded with the world’s shimmering rings and studded with winking diamond stars, interrupted only by the trilobed shadow of the Imperial suborbital surveillance station.
As I watched the delegates eat and dance in formal beachwear and tropical uniforms while bioluminescent waves rolled in, I remarked that it was a strange venue for a diplomatic dinner.
Astrid smiled. “But you forget – this is not a treaty summit. This is my twelve-year jubilee.” I gave her a searching look, but she just smiled and sipped her drink.
“You know, now that you’ve declared me as your Consort, many people believe me to be one of the most powerful people in the Empire,” I said.
Astrid chuckled. “Nonsense. You have no more power as my Consort now than you did as my Consort at the Academy.”
I pressed the topic. “There are some, my prince and your Champion amongst them, who believe my influence over you gives me more power than a grand duke with a legion of demon warriors.”
Putting aside her cup, Astrid pointed at one of the many moons hovering overhead.
“Your power is like that of the lighted moon – a reflection of my light, much diluted, and were you to be seen in the sky next to me, your illumination would not be noticed.” She patted my thigh in what I thought was supposed to be a comforting gesture.
“Worry not, Consort. I shan’t burden you with any official duties which would put you in danger. ”
I was discomforted by Astrid’s blasé refusal to acknowledge what everyone around her seemed to believe – that I was somebody of note and importance, whether she wished me to be or not.
Still, now was not the time to try and convince her.
She was in too good a mood, and unwilling to debate the subject.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Princess Marie-Christina gliding through the crowd, her white bikini and patterned emerald-green sarong striking against her copper skin. “If you’ll excuse me, I should talk with my allies, see if I can get back into their good graces,” I said to Astrid.
Astrid looked confused. “But you’re my Consort now—”
“And still a loyal subject of the Royal Commonwealth,” I said, cutting her sentence short before she could put me in a compromising position. Then I placed my hand underneath her chin. “Don’t worry. I can be both a Royal sky captain and the Emperor’s Consort while we’re here.”
Astrid did not look so certain, but she let me pull her into a kiss. It was meant to be quick, but as happened with most kisses between Astrid and me, we were both breathless when we broke apart. “Don’t be gone too long,” Astrid said, her chest heaving.
“I won’t,” I replied playfully, concealing the doubts I myself held.
The looming choice between my love for Astrid and my loyalty to the Commonwealth weighed upon me.
I pressed those thoughts aside. At this moment, I intended to enjoy myself, and hoped something would work out to save my nation and my paramour.
Princess Marie saw me heading towards her and began moving to intercept, but my path was blocked before I could reach her.
Lady d’Lyre spun into my way, one hand on her cocked hip, the other artlessly outstretched as she said in a sultry voice, “Captain Boylan, you’ve been very rude, keeping me waiting.
I thought you would be with the Emperor all night. ”
I dropped into my neutral officer’s face as I took her bare hand and inclined my head over it, refusing to touch my lips to her knuckles as she certainly hoped. “Such is my duty as the Emperor’s Consort,” I replied.
Lady d’Lyre simpered. “Of course, but that does not mean you should not enjoy yourself.” Deftly, she took two champagne flutes from a passing hordling’s tray and offered one to me, gently brushing against me with a calculated pressure, firm enough to ensure notice but light enough to be deniable should I point it out.
“Shall we share a drink before we dance?”
“If you wish,” I replied as I accepted the drink.
I played a dangerous part here, polite and warm enough to not offend an ally, while remaining aloof from her seduction.
Gently, I took a step to the side and around Lady d’Lyre, opening her flank for Princess Marie’s attack. “Shall we toast an Allied victory?”
Lady d’Lyre raised a dark eyebrow, her blue eyes glittering maliciously. “I would have thought you would prefer the Empire reign victorious.”
“My position as Consort does not negate my prior allegiances. I am still the Queen’s man, and I’ll not betray my country, nor forget my allies,” I said as Princess Marie walked into conversational range.
Lady d’Lyre pretended not to notice Princess Marie’s presence. “Tell me, Captain, is it true you’re here because you dated the Emperor at the Royal Colonial Academy?”
Every nearby person’s attention focused sharply upon me.
Boleslaw emerged from the flickering firelight, as did Darius, and several others besides.
I wasn’t certain I was authorized to reveal this information, but the Emperor’s announcement had already done the damage. My revelations would do little more.
“It’s true, albeit indirectly. I was brought here as a cultural expert. The fact that my Academy paramour has since become Emperor was a happy bonus.”
“What was she like at the Academy?” a Despotate lord commander asked.
“Shy, at first. She wore a coat of fearsomeness to convince people to leave her alone. Once she opened up to me, though, she was quite the hellion. She never tolerated rules she found nonsensical.”
“And what made you brave her fearsome demeanor to court her?” Lady d’Lyre asked, smirking. “Surely not her looks.”
“Are you saying that the Emperor is not beautiful?” I asked, and d’Lyre’s smile slipped as she realized her mistake. A small crowd surrounded us now, including several demon lords towering above us. Any insult to the Emperor could be conceived as a deadly offense.
“Is there any tak available?” I asked of a nearby demon. She scowled, but nodded. “Could you send for some? And a tankard of chaser,” I asked, then sipped my champagne and turned back to d’Lyre.
“The Emperor was as beautiful then as she is now,” I said, “which is why when she asked me to the autumnal ball, I said yes.”
“The Emperor asked you?” Marie asked.
“Indeed she did. I’m not sure how it’s done in the League, but in the Commonwealth, women often ask men out.
It’s done via letter, which the woman sends privately to her intended, inviting him to a social event.
If he accepts, then he signs and returns her letter,” I explained.
“Astrid—the Emperor, did things differently. I was with some school mates one day when she walked straight up to me, thrust her letter into my hands, and said, ‘I am told this is the manner in which a woman asks a man to a dance in this country. I shall await your reply.’”
“She didn’t!” a female Commonwealth marshal said, aghast.
“She did. And then she stood there waiting for an answer.” The assembled crowd chuckled, and I glanced at the Emperor, hoping I was not harming her public image.
She had taken advantage of my absence to enjoy a roast swiftling drumstick, curling her lips back with each bite to keep the sauce from smearing her face.
As the Emperor chewed, her eyes scanned the party, taking in the shifting Allies and Imperials.
When her eyes landed on me, they crinkled at the corners in joy.
It seemed both of Astrid’s personas liked what they saw.
“So what made you say yes?” Archduke Darius asked, his green eyes shining.
I finished my champagne as the tak arrived and exchanged glasses.
“It was everyone laughing at her. I was not a popular student. I came from a frontier planet, and my parents had to pull strings to get me into Royal Colonial. I was always behind the fashion and rough in my manners. When Astrid handed me her letter and waited, the other Commonwealthers laughed at her, much like they laughed at my faux pas. I hated them for it. So, I read her letter, signed it, and returned it to her on the spot. I arrived at her room with a flower in advance and escorted her to the ball. I danced with her as long as my aching feet would allow, guiding her through the steps and social standards, doing my best to show off my nation’s customs and defend her from the malicious comments of my countrymen.
At the evening’s end, she thanked me, and I thought that would be the end of it.
Imagine my surprise when she approached me two days later, asking if I would get a drink with her. ”
One of the demons sniffed. “We do not ‘get drinks’ as part of our courtship.”
“I’m aware. The Emperor told me,” I responded. “But she’d been told it was an acceptable first date in the Commonwealth. You’ll be pleased to know that she came into the bar with no less than three zeroblades strapped to her person, and her claws and horns bared.”
The demons laughed heartily at that. One of them slapped me hard on the back, making me stumble and slop half my tak onto the sand.
I took advantage of the pause to throw back what remained of my choking drink, then extended my hand.
As I’d expected, the tankard of chaser was placed in it, and I drew from the cooling draft most thankfully.
“Why do you think she asked you?” Darius asked, curious.