"Must I continue? It was so hot and bloody, and while I am honored to serve the Emperor, I feel like a visceral story as this could ruin the appetites of my esteemed hosts," I temporized politely, smiling as if I was doing them a reluctant service and not trying to keep myself from getting caught in a lie. Plus if I kept talking, I could not enjoy the delightful sliders they had prepared along with the wine. A magnificent vintage, and I know my wines. 

Were were in one of the smaller halls of the palace, having entered through a white and gold porte-cochère. I thought it quite reminiscent of an alternative gothic take of Belle Époque, but I was no expert. I sat near the roaring fireplace, and above the sweeping lip above the yawning pit was an enormous painting of the famous [i]Lament of The Risen[/i], a picturesque image of the Emperor gazing down upon Terra with a face of pity. Deemed risque in some more harsh circles, it was meant to capture his wish for the potential of mankind in a universal reality that might never be. Above us were a half a dozen six lighted chandeliers of hand painted frame accompanied with the sparkle of faceted cut crystal, however they were so high up the room still felt warm and low, as if this was a private affair. In some ways it was, I suppose. 

The rotund Baron Buelmarqous had whispered to me all night of the varying illicit instances of haberdashery in the capital whilst Count Adelmar seemed unsure if he wished to duel me or ask me to marry his daughter, who to my great relief was not present. Constable Marshal Hamish, apparently from off-world but a staple in the modern cabinet of ministers, kept grilling me for stories of my family's history and my own experiences of warfare which many gave enthusiastic support for. Unfortunately, for my unyielding vice, Baroness Arsenault of the southern sector seemed particularly interested, who confessed her husband worked too long and left her with little to do except sport a decollete dress of satin at the capital, making eyes at young officers. It was a particular sort of hell, for if I gave in to her considerable charms she could steal more than my honor and give a headache I would lose my position for. The Governess had listened to my stories with an admirable patience, though I could tell something in them interested her and even I was not so arrogant to think it was myself.  

The party did not necessarily come to a screeching halt, but I did not need to look up to see someone uninvited had entered. I set my wine down, wondering with my obscene paranoia if it was the MP's having come to gather me, but instead to my delight I saw Corporal Sel there. Admittedly seeing her in dress uniform was much like seeing an Tyranid in an inquisitorial uniform. Certainly something I did not expect. However, I was quite glad to have her rescue me. I was too green on this planet for me to make a character out of myself in front of the rulership, and so I took to my feet despite the calls to sit down and the pleading of lady Arsenault. 

"Duty calls, eh?" Baron Buelmarqous remarked with a knowing wink, as if he had ever seen a lick of action or service besides what he pays his expensive whores. 

I decided to change the topic rather than give more assurances of my having to leave. Redirection was easier, I found. I glided over to my trusty Corporal and genuflected lightly, indicating Sel to the gathered aristocracy. "May I present Corporal Seldon, whom I spoke about. A hero of the people!" 

"Oh, so she is the one that killed the big ork with its own tusk?" The Governess asked, amused. "I imaged she would be taller, but she does appear formidable." 

"The Corporal is as loyal and dutiful as any man who serves." I assured them, hoping Sel would say a few words so we could be on our way before I was asked to regale them with another tale of my grandfather's hunting expeditions.