27 Pillow Talk
PILLOW TALK
THE MORNING AFTER, Astrid, Bridgette, and I lounged in bed as the sun rose, enjoying refreshments brought by Astrid’s hordling servants.
The variety of miniature breakfast foods brought before me was staggering – tiny bagels with cream cheese and lox, minuscule egg and bacon sandwiches, scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam, and a dozen more besides, along with any sort of biscuit you could want.
The drinks on offer were also varied. Astrid enjoyed several cups of hard coffee, and d’Lyre sipped a pineapple mimosa.
I alternated between milky tea and orange juice, avoiding alcohol in favor of fluids and energy, although I secretly thought an IV saline solution might better replenish me.
The night had been active, and I felt like a withered husk of a man, a shambling zombie in need of a meal and a nap.
At least I could acquire the former, but neither Astrid nor Bridgette showed signs of weariness, and if they were awake, then I had to be.
I could not risk falling asleep and letting the two of them negotiate without me.
Lady d’Lyre had teased her supposed information between bouts of sex all night, but every time we got close to getting her to reveal what she knew, she managed to enflame either Astrid, or, I’m ashamed to say, myself into starting another round.
Not that Astrid was innocent of such behavior – whenever d’Lyre pressed the Emperor too hard on what she’d be willing to trade for the information, Astrid would cut the conversation short.
As for me, well, the last ten years had not prepared me for such subtle diplomacy, nor such enthusiastic amorous acrobatics.
I had the sensation of slipping to the side, of being left behind in the conversations, both the verbal discussions as well as the unspoken side talks conducted entirely through body language.
Sometime after sunrise, the two of them started drifting in that direction once more. Astrid asked about d’Lyre’s information, d’Lyre asked what the Emperor would give in exchange, and as they started to move towards one another, I dipped my fingers into my glass and flicked ice water at them.
Both Astrid and Bridgette exclaimed in surprise and gave me negative looks, a glare from Astrid and a pout from Bridgette, but I wasn’t affected. “Stop it. Please. You’ve been jockeying for position all night.”
“I rather remember you doing most of the riding,” Bridgette accused.
“Don’t tell me you aren’t enjoying yourself,” Astrid said, “because I know that to be a lie.”
I sipped my water, trying to rehydrate, before speaking.
“You’ve sized each other up long enough.
As much as I enjoy a good romp, I like sex to be for sex’s sake, not this perverted diplomacy.
Now, Bridgette, you say you have information for us?
Say it, then we can discuss what the Emperor is willing to give you for it. ”
Lady d’Lyre pouted. Astrid looked disappointed, but disentangled herself from Bridgette’s embrace. “Spoilsport,” d’Lyre said, then she fetched herself a plate of mini-quiches. “I’m not in the habit of giving information away for free.”
The Emperor’s mood cooled. “And I’m not in the habit of buying mysteries and shadows. Too often they turn out to be empty air.”
Lady d’Lyre opened her mouth to argue, but I’d heard it all during the night before.
“We’ll get nowhere if you don’t give us some hint of what you know.
At least tell us the nature of your information.
Then we’ll decide what it’s worth.” D’Lyre still hesitated, and I felt an emotional weak spot open up.
I launched a mild verbal attack. “Now don’t be coy.
It doesn’t suit you. We already know it involves New Melbourne. ”
Astrid spoke up. “And we all know that without whatever proof you have squirreled away, what you say here has no meaning. You could make up any story you like, but until I have proof in my hands, any deal we may strike will be null and void.”
“We’re striking deals?” I asked, nonplussed.
“That depends on what Lady d’Lyre has to say,” Astrid replied.
Immediately, I knew Astrid had made a mistake. Her words gave d’Lyre the conversational initiative. I hoped we could recover.
Lady d’Lyre let Astrid and I wait as she carefully chewed a mouthful of her breakfast. She played with her fork, considering whether or not to take another bite, but decided against it.
“The Despotate detonated the Fall device,” she said bluntly. “The Urgans have decided to adopt a scorched-skies tactic. They decided they didn’t want the Empire to conquer another Urgan world, so they destroyed it instead,” Bridgette replied.
Astrid swore, eyes hard, jaw set. “Those fucking lunatics, they’d risk extinction to keep me from winning?”
“How do you know this?” I asked.
“The Despotate used a Federation relay tower to send the order. We intercepted the transmission,” Bridgette explained.
“And broke their codes?” I asked.
Bridgette laughed. “My dear Captain, we broke the Urgan codes before we entered the war.”
I wanted to ask if the Noble Federation had broken our codes as well, but feared the answer and did not trust Bridgette to tell the truth.
“Do you know who set off the device?” Astrid asked.
“No, but we know who gave the order,” Bridgette said, then stopped talking.
Tired of her impatience, I stepped into the breach, preventing Astrid from having to ask. “Who?”
Bridgette’s smile curled menacingly, like a cat with a cicada. “The order to activate the Fall device came from the Despotess herself.”
Astrid’s face reddened with fury. Her entire body went taut, ready to strike out, but her rage rendered her unable to speak.
“And you can prove this?” I asked in her stead.
I’d half expected the Urgan Despotate would be responsible ever since I’d learned about New Melbourne’s destruction.
If the Empire had been losing, I might have suspected some loose-cannon demon lord, but they were slowly grinding through the deadlock on the planet, sure to win if things did not change.
The Allies had more to lose, and the Despotate lords commander were the only people on the Allied side reckless enough to destroy their own planets to spite the Empire.
Lady d’Lyre shrugged suggestively, a pleased smile still tightening her lips.
“To whose satisfaction? The Urgans will claim they were framed, and the war hawks on either side will pretend the information is falsified to continue the fight. What matters is whether I can provide enough proof to convince the Emperor, and I think I can.”
Astrid finally gained control over her fury to the point where she could speak, but I still half expected her to lash out in anger. “If you can prove what you say is true, then I’d agree your information is worth something. So, what is it you want?”
Bridgette’s smile widened, her lips parting to reveal her perfect pearly teeth. Despite having had her several times during the night, I got the impression she was more aroused by the Emperor’s question than by anything either of us had done to her in bed.
“The Noble Federation feels the Urgan Despotate is too dangerous a nation to allow its continued existence,” Bridgette said.
“Agreed,” Astrid growled between clenched teeth.
“The Empire and the Federation already occupy Urgan star systems. The Federation will keep those worlds we currently control, as well as those contested worlds where we still have a significant military presence. If you grant us permission to annex the remaining free Despotate worlds, then the Federation will not contest your annexation of Despotate worlds you currently hold.”
The Emperor took a sip of her Eire coffee. “Imperial blood has been spilled on the disputed worlds. We cannot ignore that sacrifice so easily. Your other terms, though, are acceptable.”
I had not expected things to go this far. Some vague agreements on treaty aims, but not concrete negotiations. Alarmed, I said, “This isn’t the right place to discuss these things.”
“Captain, you’re being silly. A great many things are decided between lovers in bed. The treaty afterwards is merely official icing on the cake,” Bridgette said as she leaned seductively towards me, her fingers gently circling my collarbone.
“If you want to talk seriously about a peace treaty, let’s get the decision makers together and discuss policy,” I said.
Bridgette’s sinister smile intensified. She was in control of the situation and loving it.
“I thought the decision makers were here. I have full authority to negotiate for the Federation, and the Emperor is the Empire. That leaves you. Do you have to call anybody before you can say what your Commonwealth will or will not agree to?” I opened my mouth to mention the Duke of Lynwyzc, but d’Lyre put a perfectly manicured finger on my lips.
“And don’t talk to me about that fuddy-duddy prince of yours.
If you present him with a peace package leaving the Royal Commonwealth intact and his niece on the throne, do you think he wouldn’t jump at it?
Would he seriously refuse to sign and doom his nation to inevitable defeat and dissolution? ”
She had a good point. I knew how precarious the Commonwealth’s military position truly was. So did the prince. Any treaty guaranteeing our survival as a people would be preferable to complete, unconditional surrender. “I suppose not…”
Delighted, Bridgette leaned forwards and planted a quick, yet distressingly sensual kiss on my cheek. “There we have it. We are the decision makers. Let’s make some decisions.”
The Emperor was ready for the opening. “The Empire and its satrapies will not give up any League territory which we currently occupy.”
Bridgette waved her hand. “Fine, fine. You took it, it’s yours. We have no interest in unprofitable backwater systems.”