Syrenrei

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

"I hadn't really thought about the possibility of being made a duchess," Solae conceded. Truthfully she ought to have anticipated that she would escalate in stature for her proven loyalty, but she had expected nothing more than social recognition for her deeds, and a reputation that placed her upon reproach for her unusual compassion. Perhaps it was because she had so narrowly focused on reaching the PEA, sending the message, jockeying for Syshin rights, and clearing the good name of her fiance, that she had forgotten all else except these goals. The rat race that made the aristocracy claw for any opportunity to advance had been left behind years ago. The former marquise had not considered that she would inherit lands or title, though in retrospect it had been a natural choice as Duke Tan could obviously no longer be recognized as such by the Stellar Empire in light of his coup. Her parents would be aghast that she did not think of more lofty prizes than a happy marriage, justice served, and peace. Then again, she suspected they would not be surprised given that she had not once voiced any desire for engaging to a man that might have brought her more wealth or fame.

"It is ironic, because I've never wanted power, and would have happily accepted a lower rank to marry you," she said, putting a voice to a concern that might have grown in his heart. "Being a marquise was never that important and yet I've risen, while the man that has hungered for more has lost his position." Solae shook her head with a slight twinge of pity for Duke Tan. He was a despicable man who was evidently never satisfied, thirsting for more, willing to kill for more. That he never appreciated all that he had was tragic despite the circumstances. The empress may have crowned her duchess in no small part because she was not ambitious for a throne. In tumultuous times, the loyal and steadfast was priceless.

"As for Rosaria, I don't know," she admitted as she sank back down into her chair now the doctor was keeping Rene from exerting himself physically. The screens had faded into a series of artfully taken photographs flickering past. The actual work of pouring through Syshin records was now moot. With Thorne's protege turned to their side, hopefully, she would not need to spend so much time trying to analyze the data and gleam the information she needed for locating and liberating possible allies.

"I want to give her a chance," Solae sighed, shaking her head. "Her desire to work against Thorne I think is sincere. Once you have a taste of freedom it's hard to go back into a cage you were put into unwillingly. Whether or not she turns into a better woman I do not know... but she won't have any chance to choose for herself if we don't give it to her." There was a hint of sadness in her tone. Both of them had led a privileged life but not without limitations. There were hobbies they were allowed and ones not, professions encouraged and forbidden, dalliances permitted and others forced into dissolution. Solae had enjoyed more control than most over her destiny but she did not have the world as her figurative oyster- being a pilot and mechanic, for example, was "inappropriate" career path for a Falia.

"And you're not the least decorated," she objected, "unless you can name me even a colonel who saved the last noble able to send a warning via PEA to the empress to warn her of treason and rebellion. No? Surely you can name one who was very literally offered enough credit to buy his own planet and refused outright. Still no? How about one that was personally appointed by the empress from your former military rank. Hmmm, well I suppose that gives you an unconventional decoration, but one that will be the envy of many," she said with a bemused smile and raised brow. He might not be able to fully escape the charges of murder in his past but he would make most of the imperial forces vibrate with jealousy. His sentence was not commuted but the inherent praise in his reward could not be ignored.

"Do you want a battalion of your own?" she then asked more seriously. "If we could procure a bigger ship..," the golden-haired beauty mused aloud as she was lost in her thoughts, seized upon by a notion that was wild but exciting. "Tell me more about what you can do as a Lieutenant-Colonel. Can you recruit your own soldiers and appoint them yourself, or would you need to go through a superior officer? Or could they be assigned to you through other channels?" Obviously the duchess was already scheming a long-term solution to their security issue if they could thread through some loopholes. The largest obstacle, though, was a ship. The Bonaventure was for a small smuggling crew and cargo only. They could house some bodyguards, Rosaria, and themselves, but not an army.

"Criestia, in your medical opinion, how soon do you anticipate a full recovery and return to duties given the rate of healing you have observed? And what activities could Rene safely participate in without a risk to his progress? For example, do you think he could sit at a desk for a while, or should he remain in bed for the time being?" she inquired diligently. Rene might be certain he was fit for minor action but she trusted the doctor more- especially since they had been so dangerously close to losing her lover for more than two days.

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

"I am happy to have your help," Solae began after it was clear that both Ten and Rene were waiting for her to make a judicious decision on whether or not to accept this proposal, "But I am no slaver, not of Syshin nor of young women. We will take you if you wish to come with no obligations, no strings attached, no demands. The Lieutenant Colonel and I," she continued with a smile that belied how much she enjoyed stating Rene's new title as often as possible, "are surrounded by danger. If you can accept that and the risk of traveling with the coup's largest targets, we will do our best to find you a new life and place to live."

The parallel drawn by the duchess between the situation of Rosaria, who had been Thorne's subordinate, plaything, and slave, to the plight of the captive Syshin did not go unnoticed by the shrewd teen. She was not yet willing to give the alien race as much respect mentally or socially as the heroic couple evidently did, but it did soften her bias slightly, and make her ever so minimally more willing to see them as more than bipedal beasts. She could not claim that she was all that different. Her home was perhaps nicer, but she had still been caged, restricted, and forced into a role she would have chosen for herself otherwise. A difference in the means of torture did not elevate her status. The girl knew better than to try to argue nuances with the diplomat with the golden hair; it had already been made clear to her that the aristocrat was well-educated, highly intelligent, and could talk circles around her.

What was more curious than this defense of the Syshin, however, was how generous the noblewoman was. Rosaria could not help but stare at her for a long moment in suspicion of this virtue. Alayla Thorne was many things but kind was not one of them. Ten was a calculated, cunning businessman who had no pretense of overflowing benevolence. Silently she searched Solae's expression for any hint she might be patronizing the youth, but she found none. There was a pervasive charitable grace that seeped into her eyes. Being around the duchess almost made her uncomfortable. Seeing such extraordinary character only made her aware how jarringly different their personalities were and, though it was never anyone's intention, made her feel a touch inadequate.

"Ten," Solae said, rounding on their host with an amicable tone, "do you think between yourself and Rene you could find a sidearm for Rosaria?"

"Just to make sure I understand," the criminal mastermind began slowly, "you want to find and/or modify weaponry for Syshin and a teenager?" He was incredulous but not overtly defiant. In the courts a duchess could have compelled obedience; she was light years above Ten in stature. On Zatis, however, it was their alliance and friendship (as much as a merchant of sin could ever afford) that made him acquiesce. Given the almost blasphemous requests she was making his raised brows was a mild reaction.

"You're always welcome to join me yourself, Ten," Solae joked, not bothered by what could have been construed as minor insubordination. "You could be a dashing knight in shining armor to the right men on distant planets," she teased further. "But if you don't want to expand your horizons, then I suppose we'll have to go with Syshin and this teenager. Perhaps we'll start with something that merely stuns?"

Ten let out a resigned sigh and shrugged his shoulders. It was not a battle of wills he wished to partake in this day and so he relented. If Rosaria or the Syshin betrayed Solae, as he very much expected, it was her judgment that led to her damnation. He was also rather certain that if he did not assist she would find another manner, one in which she ingratiated herself to someone else and would result in a loss of favor, but achieve the same goal. Above all else he did not want to lose her favor. Having earned the personal gratitude of a duchess would ensure him into his old age; he had been content with a marquise, and he was greedy for the protection her new title held.

"Very well," he conceded, "I will evaluate our selection with Rene."

"As soon as we can for Rosaria in particular," Solae ventured more gingerly. "Until the doctor clears Rene for action- and I want to hear it from her lips directly- he's on bed rest." She gave her lover a stern look that warned him against trying to protest his health. He was lucky already she not sent him to bed or refused to share her plan until he was further in his recovery. The linguist was aware how long he had been unconscious and that he had awoken an hour ago at best.

The Betrothed

Rhiane laughed easily at the commentary about the hot spring being superior to a bar for meeting others- because it was such an absurd assertion- and her face broke into a broad smile when he remarked he would have liked to buy her a drink. Crown prince Luke did not make purchases for her benefit. Once he had waved a card in front of her face flippantly and tried to force her to take it, and asked his sister for a cannoli recommendation, but he was not one for romantic gifts. Were she another woman perhaps he would have bought her trinkets and baubles to demonstrate his affection. There was not just an absence of an engagement ring; there was no thoughtfully selected jewelry, no grand bouquets of flowers, no shoes or dresses in her style simply because he personally wanted to see her wear it, no stuffed animals or other collectibles. The royalty paid for the princess elect in other ways by clothing her, guarding her, and housing her, but no one could deny it lacked real consideration for the person over the concept.

"You're very fortunate that I am at least temporarily forbidden from partaking in alcohol," she mused aloud with a playful smirk upon her features, "or I'd absolutely take advantage of you. Drink you under the table, even," the brunette teased. "You ought not to underestimate a woman's constitution when she's only men for business acquaintances and family," she winked. Were the circumstances different she could have been a formidable opponent during a drinking game. Rhiane was used to trying to match glass for glass and shot for shot with her male counterparts on a regular. In addition to partaking to preserve her pride, in the country the people would brew strong concoctions from their crops, the sort that could topple over a lightweight accustomed to mere wine.

What smile had grown when he compared her to his sister faltered with the glow of yellow beneath the water. Her eyes flickered down and she very nearly thought to retreat. The princess elect had momentarily been pulled out the fantasy where they were not themselves and shameless talking, flirting, conversing with humor and not a trace of argument. She remembered how she was just an accessory to the future ruler of the nation. Though he reassured her that it was just work there was a doubt that crept into her eyes. Callous as it might be to think, she was not the most important thing in his life, nor was she likely the second, as there were officials clamoring for his attention that played a much larger role in the governance of the nation.

It wasn't until he moved over to seat and then continued the discussion about her being a supposed bully that she let go of her hesitation and drifted through the warm liquid towards him. There was little that could draw her back out of her exhaustion, her frustration, and her insecurities, but his banter about his siblings successfully coaxed her back into a more sharing mood. This was almost certainly the best they had ever gotten along. Both spoke freely, casually, without reservation or care about their engagement, and were only a man and woman trading stories about their lives as strangers might do upon meeting.

"I was not a bully," she protested in feigned indignation as she moved to sit beside him. "It is quite difficult to have brothers," she pointed out in defense of herself and what would become her sister-in-law. "You can't blame a girl for ordering someone around if they oblige her, can you? If it was really such a problem then the other party wouldn't listen," she pointed out. "It sounds like you could use some help with your brothers. You happen to be in the presence of an expert counter-terrorist in that regard because I can assure you my elder brothers might have coddled me, but they also liked to bother me as well. Maybe you should plant a few traps," Rhiane said, brightening at the prospect of mischief. Two young princes might be reluctant to cry to their mother if they thought the commoner interloper had gotten the best of them. She thought it entirely plausible they'd prefer to suffer in silence than admit a minor defeat.

"Where am I from?" she repeated, uncertain of what response might best play into this act. The princess elect shrugged noncommittally and ignored the inquiry in favor of answering the second question. "I came here to think, to dwell on the past, present, and future, as I was under the assumption I'd be alone in the hot spring with my thoughts," Rhiane announced before giving an exaggerated sigh. "I didn't expect a handsome devil to have snuck in here. And to what end? Would you have me believe you crept into the women's bath to chat with nude women and have no ill intentions?" she asked with a raised brow.

No sooner had the words left her lips than she thought to kiss him. It would not have been the kiss of loneliness, of desperation, of yearning, and of breathless anticipation that had seized her earlier that morning. She had shed her identity and was going to kiss him to show her joy, her approval, her amusement, her more jubilant desire. If sunrise had brought a want for Luke without the crown, the sunset had brought a want for the personality that Luke held when he was not even himself. Just as Rhiane was leading forward to tempt him she paused, worried that he would take this opportunity to reject her, or list the numerous reasons they ought to keep apart physically. Then again, he had known the dangers before he shed his robe and dismissed Tobias. She wavered in that indecision, turned towards him, yet not quite touching. "You have work," she murmured to herself more than him as if to give an excuse why he might step away in advance of a denial.

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

The former marquise, now duchess, was seated at the desk in the otherwise vacant suite that had been set aside for hers and Rene's use. Her long hair had been piled atop her head and loosely and pinned into place with a variety of decorative butterfly barrettes that briefly gave the illusion of the flaxen-haired beauty being a princess of the forest rather than an aristocrat on a seedy criminal world. Solae's dress was a flowing gossamer gown tied at the waist but allowing a free range of movement. One hand was on a screen set into the table while the other was poised on another attached to the wall. The topic of research was obscured by records scrolling by in a language foreign to all present except the diplomat herself.

"You should be resting!" she objected as she heard the wheelchair enter the room. The sound had made her jump to her feet not in alarm, as she knew she was safe within the walls of the fortified dwelling, but because she was outraged at this apparent lack of concern for her fiance's health. "You should have sent word you were awake and stayed with the doctor," she clarified, not wanting to sound ungrateful or annoyed by her paramour's presence, "until she confirms you ought to be out and about."

"I think he deserves to know what you've been planning," Ten replied casually with a slight hint of disapproval peeking through his more reserved demeanor.

"No need to be so sensationalist," she said with a good-natured roll of the eyes as she gestured for Rene to be wheeled to the desk. Despite the apparent disagreement between the illicit broker and linguist, their words belied a level of respect, one that had developed naturally during their time spent on Zatis. Solae appreciated the risk that Ten took in forming an allegiance with them and throwing his weight behind the loyalists, however quietly, because he was not obligated to offer any assistance. Ten admired (though he would not admit it aloud) that Solae was incorruptible in an age when everyone else he knew could be convinced to abandon their morals with the correct incentive. Someone as fastidiously loyal as the couple was exceedingly rare.

"It occurred to me that our ship had a crew of four originally and it can support more than you and I," the duchess explained as she motioned to the foreign text. Realizing it was indecipherable to her audience she called up a schematic of the Bonaventure and pointed to the unoccupied crew's quarters. She and Rene had cleaned the room out briefly but otherwise not been using it even for storage. There were four beds within if memory served, and though it was tight quarters to be comfortable for month-long journeys, it was a decent enough accommodation if one had free reign of the rest of the vessel.

"Specifically she was hoping to procure additional members of an entourage," Ten remarked dryly.

"I don't want to see Rene more hurt than necessary, and it's madness not to attempt to recruit a few more individuals that could help guarantee our survival," she said, more trying to convince the older mastermind than her beau herself, but she quickly returned her gaze back to the latter. "I have every right, as a duchess, to have more than one bodyguard. If we can find a couple trustworthy souls to protect us we won't be in as much danger as we were at the embassy. Just two more would significantly strengthen us."

"You're leaving out the critical information, my dear," Ten said as he crossed his arms.

"I want to recruit a couple Syshin," Solae said without apology for the extremely unconventional notion. Syshin were relegated to the role of labourers only; it was unheard of for them to do anything more elevated than being a domestic servant at the highest rank. To provide them armor and weaponry would be madness for anyone else. Almost every human in the empire thought the subjugated race was not intelligent enough, not capable enough, and would lash out at their superiors given the opportunity to do so. That Solae spoke to them so kindly was a breach of etiquette. There was no law forbidding the duchess- especially with her station- in appointing whomever she chose for her security detail, but it would raise the brows of the most liberal minds.

"Duke Tan would never try to appeal to them," she elaborated, "and that makes them inherently a better choice than a man or woman whom he'd have the means to persuade to join the coup. He'll try to kill them certainly, but he wouldn't lower himself to bribe a slave, what he thinks is slightly better than a beast. They'll listen to you, Rene," she promised, "and be eager to follow any training you give them. It's a rare chance to show the Stellar Empire that they are worthy of more rights. Additionally," she added, her eyes drifting to Ten, "we could more easily appeal to other races if we can prove we are open-minded when it comes to allies."

"If you'd consider a human rather than a Syshin I could provide recommendations," Ten suggested. "Not my best men, as I need them for myself, but men that would follow you and not be Syshin."

"I've been looking through the records of the Syshin already here on Zatis to try to determine the best candidates, and from that pool who we'd need to... liberate," she said as she pressed a few keys to make the text display in a common tongue. Besides the Syshin brothels there were also a few fighting rings for the visitors that got their figurative jollies from watching violent battles, a couple factories that utilized them for raw strength and endurance, and a few owners that 'rented' them for a variety of tasks that were 'beneath' an imperial citizen.

The Betrothed

She froze as the crown prince alleged that his personal bodyguard, a man whom she suspected held very little fondness for her, was occupying the men's bath. Just as quickly as her escape route had appeared it now vanished. The brunette was struck with the dilemma of whether to linger a while longer and enjoy the spring or to save herself from the enigmatic man that was to one day be her husband. Rhiane did not fear Luke so much as she worried about what his intentions were. At times he was more ruthlessly critical of her than his mother the queen, and at other times he was genuinely gentle, and today he had already traversed the distance between these extremes more than once. An unoccupied bedroom was increasingly tempting.

His proposal that they abandon their names and stations for a night gave her pause. It was not an apology, but she knew him well enough to recognize that this was his peace offering. She wavered in indecision. Not once had he proven himself capable of setting aside his prejudices for more than a few hours; when he did, he was merely shelving the thoughts, not accepting her identity in small increments. At the end of her marriage she anticipated he could loathe the peasants more through her than respect them. Rhiane was increasingly anxious about the affect she was having on the future of New Rome. Playing these games with the man who would one day lead them could have catastrophic results were she to make too many missteps. Exhaustion whispered in her ear that fleeing the battlefield was the wiser choice.

Just as she had been ready to decline he had drifted to her side of the pool and placed his hand on her arm. Effortlessly he pulled her back into the depths of the water. Trusting him for the moment she watched with apprehension and mounting confusion as he lured her to the center of the bath. The compliment that easily dropped from his lips that dispelled her puzzled expression. Her cheeks flushed a sufficiently bright pink to be visible under the muted glow of starlight. Flattery from Luke was rare and evoked a different reaction than anyone else. He had seen her converse with lords and ladies, esteemed professionals, and poor laborers, but none had made her an ounce flustered when they showered her with adulation for her beauty. Tobias praised her more, and this is why she leaned onto the cousin that was her champion, but only the arrogant heir to the throne could make her breathlessly enamored.

There was a prolonged pause as she listened to the fake name, the pick up line, his light-hearted laugh, and the pick-up line repeated with the correction cited. Just as he was almost certainly losing hope she would play along she let out a small giggle and shook her head slowly in disbelief. "Of all the names you could pick and you stuck with a simple Alex?" she asked with amusement. She couldn't quite say what was so funny about his selection. In fantastical stories of whirlwind romances or epic heroes whose legacies lived on for millennia they had unique names to suit. What was even more absurd was that he had such disdain for commoners and yet chose a name that was just that- common.

"Tell me, Alex, do you regularly go to the women's bath to meet people?" she inquired with a raised brow. "It's a little inappropriate to be stripping down nude and then approaching ladies who are similarly undressed," she added, suddenly more aware that they were not wearing clothing. Rhiane pulled back her good arm and withdrew a few inches. He had not touched her more than was necessary, yet the proximity made it hard not to recall their earlier intimacy, and she felt shamed that he was so composed and casual while she was twittering like a schoolgirl. Luke was staving off her fatigue though not in the way she had imagined. It felt dangerous to linger closer than was required for them to speak. Whether or not he had control was irrelevant; she was compromised enough to act on urges best left unexplored.

"I know you're not a prince," she said with a sudden change of topic, obviously overeager to broach a topic that was safer than thinly veiled flirting, "but if you were... do you think there would actually be a crown? Heavy is the crown is the metaphor, but I'd think if there was an actual physical crown- I've never seen one, mind you- it'd be quite heavy if it's made out of gold and gems. Uncomfortably heavy," the princess elect mused aloud with an almost childlike wonder. When she was distracted by a more innocent subject she was prone to pondering such inane things as she did now. Tobias told her this was what made her so congenial; she was not limited to politics, but had a wide breath of humorous speculations, and anecdotes that were of trivial shared experiences. In another life she would have been an excellent advertising executive, social media coordinator, or talk show host.

"Technically that's not true," she chased after serious contemplation. "I made my brother a crown once, out of paper, but then I ended up trying to tell him what to do anyway. I think I was maybe five years old," the brunette recalled slowly as she tugged free the distant memory. "He barely tolerated wearing the crown to appease me, but he would not tolerate me becoming a dictator after making him the so-called-king, so we ended up getting punished for fighting. I stole back the crown later because I was angry," she confessed mischievously, "and it was quite light when I wore it. Light enough it blew away on the wind within a few minutes of going outside."

The Betrothed

Rhiane had resigned herself to sit in silence, staring away from Luke so that his presence would not create more trouble for her than it already had, but he obviously had different thoughts. She did not quite know how she would start a conversation with her betrothed. He had objected to her decision to change into commoner clothes, perhaps because he strongly disapproved of the lower class itself, and had refused to speak with her at all during their tour. Despite giving every indication he wished to have nothing to do with her, he had then entered the women's bath and handed her a phone call from her future sister-in-law. The former farmer was not daft. She knew he could have delayed Callista's request to a later time had he had the inclination. That he elected to wander into the pool with her and stay once the call concluded suggested he had at least temporarily set aside his grudge.

Neither of them wanted to apologize for their behavior. Luke was a man of righteous pride in his decisions. Rhiane did not expect him to regret taking the stance she ought to remain in the dress given to her by Luce if for no other reason than to distinguish herself from her former peers. The queen's influence over his ideological beliefs would not so quickly be mitigated. Similarly she did not regret taking the stance it was important to comfortably attire herself in plain work clothes while she walked with the people. Save for their tense ignoring of one another during dinner, her plot had been a resounding success, and proof that she did not need to take notes from the throne when it came to public appearances. That they even needed her to boost their image ought to have hinted to the crown their approach had flaws.

That he spoke first, and candidly about the ring, surprised her. "That's not true," she managed after hearing his admission that the engagement ring had been 'lost.' His remark about showing Luce a replacement she would like purchased assured her he did not understand why it had been a subject of discussion between her and Tobias. It was not the jewelry she wanted but the thought and consideration that went into its acquisition. "Men can be thoughtful. You can be thoughtful. It's a small thing and easy to lose," she added without any judgment in her tone.

"I'm sure at some point Luce will notice its absence and order me something. It doesn't really matter, though, does it?" Rhiane ventured with a touch of melancholy in her voice rather than derision. She wanted to point out that if she was picking it out, or a servant, or even a consultant, that it had lost the meaning. What made an engagement ring special was not the diamond but how a man might peruse countless options before finding one that he thought was as special as his future bride. Without that devotion and careful deliberation on how it might suite the taste of his lover, it was just a fancy rock and metal loop. "We're engaged with or without it," she continued, "and it doesn't symbolize any promise of affection, does it?"

Shaking her head she turned around and looked for where she had discarded her robe. It took her a few seconds to locate the garment at the opposite end of the bath. Crouching down to remain submerged to her shoulders she made her way over to the corner slowly, increasingly reluctant to leave the relaxing heated water, as she knew the most plush of towels could not compare. "I don't have the energy to argue with you more today, Luke," she sighed. Her make-up had been washed off before she took her dip. Dark shadows were cast under her eyes and the sag of her shoulders belied an encroaching exhaustion. "You can tell me how I've disappointed you tomorrow after I've had some rest," she promised with her back still to him to give her the emotional fortitude she needed to speak.

"We're the only ones here so I'll go to the men's bath so you can have some privacy," she said, unaware that Tobias had warned Luke how she underestimated her fatigue and the danger it posed to her. The cousins agreed on little, but what they did agree on was that Rhiane consistently dismissed her health, and was recklessly eager to disregard her condition for any incentive. In this case she did not want to concede anything could or would keep her from spending every moment possible in this rejuvenating utopia.

Because Luke had yet to admit he harbored feelings for her, she continued to take for granted he did not, and conducted herself accordingly. She was suspicious of him when he sent mixed messages pushing her away and pulling her towards him in equal measure. This confusion about what he wanted gave her an excuse to increase their distance. If she was going to have a one-sided infatuation she wanted to have it as safely as possible, in a way she could not get more hurt than she already was, and not risk him repeating his previous rejections. They had slept together but then he had insulted her fellow peasants and avoided her later in the day. It was too perplexing to anticipate what would happen next; retreat was all she could think to do with his indecisiveness.

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

"Decimal, deny any and all requests from anyone except myself and Lieutenant Colonel Rene Quentain, this gentleman with me. Can you confirm that your self-defense mechanisms are online?" she asked as she slipped an arm under Rene's shoulders and started to guide him to the steps. Though he had been taking the initiative thus far with strategizing their combat, she recognized he was wounded, and his situation had probably worsened in the last few minutes. He had shielded her and dragged her along when she was too stunned and confused to make sense of her surroundings. Just as he had supported her and kept her safe, now she had to do the same, even if it was only from exacerbating the injuries he had sustained.

"Confirmed that only orders from Duchess Solae Falia and Lieutenant Colonel Rene Quentain are being followed. How may I be of further assistance?" the program asked in an almost comically monotone voice. It was such a sharp deviation from the inappropriate undertones of Mia that could stand to have slightly less personality at times that it gave the freshly promoted aristocrat pause. The artificial sentience was asking a simple enough question- but the delivery lacked any pretense of congenial service.

"I'm enacting a password for all approaching vehicles," Solae added as she continued to help Rene down the stairs as rapidly was realistically possible given his state. None of their achievements would matter if he bled out during their escape because the strong cocktail of drugs he had administered to himself made him oblivious to his physical trauma. "The password is Marlene. If any vehicle approaches without the proper password you are to use the self-defense artillery to eliminate the threat with extreme prejudice. Does this facility have containment doors?"

"Yes, Duchess Solae Falia," Decimal replied with absolutely no elaboration. It was the same infuriating lack of detail they had encountered earlier. Despite herself Solae rolled her eyes in frustration at this concise statement.

"After further consideration, fire upon any and all vehicles in the area that do not provide you with the password within thirty seconds," she decided. The embassy, as an official imperial building, was equipped with ballista that could be utilized to defend against invaders. On most planets this protocol was not necessary. There had been enough attempted coups within the last two hundred years, however, that the throne had elected to err on the side of caution. They had implemented requirements that there be sufficient weaponry to take on insurrections, including that of soldiers with military-grade equipment. Solae was only fighting for her own self-preservation, and she taking advantage of the resources at her disposal for exactly the purpose they were intended, but she felt slightly ill at the revelation she'd be the direct cause of the insurgents' deaths.

Taking a deep breath to brace herself for the next ruthless command she forced herself to blot out any consideration for those trying to take them captive and/or kill them as the case may be. The nobility did not tolerate weakness. Summoning the willpower to ensure their mutual survival she cleared her throat. "Decimal, chart a path for us to the exit. Lower all containment doors that do not obstruct our path," she declared with all the authority she held. "Once we cross the threshold of a containment door you will lower it behind us. Do you understand?"

"The containment doors will remain locked for a minimum of two hours after engagement. Is this within acceptable parameters, Duchess Solae Falia?" Decimal responded. "I require verbal confirmation prior to deployment per operating procedure guidelines."

"Yes, Decimal, please proceed immediately," she affirmed with a grimace. Containment doors were meant for exactly what their name implied. The reinforced composite was impervious to both types of fire, whether flame or the handheld variety that was standard issue. It was constructed of a material very similar to what was used for landing pads. The theory behind the design was to provide a suppressive tactic that would isolate troops that had breached imperial offices, provide an air-tight seal to starve conflagrations and keep them from spreading down a hallway with a large supply of oxygen fuel, and even potentially shield citizens from a highly contagious epidemic. The largest drawback to the doors was that they had locking mechanisms that would not let anyone, whether it be Decimal or a Duchess or even the Empress herself, open them until the duration had expired. Understandably they were seldom employed. Solae was reluctant to take these extreme measures but their circumstances were dire.

"Mia, can you hear me?" the diplomat queried as they reached a landing of the stairwell.

"Yes, Lady Solae," Mia purred seductively as if she yearned for nothing more than a kind word from her mistress.

"Contact Ten and tell him I need an armored vehicle for extraction with full medical for Rene. The embassy's AI will ask him for a password for safe passage- inform him the password is Marlene. I've activated the embassy's defenses so his team should have little difficulty landing and retreating with minimal risk." She could tell that some of her fiance's strength was beginning to dwindle. Fortunately they did not have much farther to travel.

As they inched their way along a corridor they heard the thudding of containment doors quickly and firmly sliding shut on the floors above them as well as the ground floor onto which they had descended less than a minute prior. With this merciless symphony came a disconcerting silence. While they were not manufactured for sound absorption, the thick material of which they were constructed passively muffled noise with extreme efficiency, which was eerie when there was yelling and screaming moments before. "Shutter the windows as well, Decimal, unless they are so heavily damaged that the mechanisms are no longer intact."

"Understood, Duchess Solae Falia," Decimal said as there were a clattering noise of metal barricades being lowered accordingly. When Tan and Ralch's men had opened fire on one another none of them had a sufficiently high appointment to lock down the embassy like a fortress. The linguist had not anticipated needing them truthfully- she had been so focused on getting in that she had spent much less time dwelling on her options for getting out. Guilt still gnawed on the back of her conscience but she steeled herself. They had been very nearly killed multiple times over the last half hour without a pause for compassion. It was foolish for her to empathize with murderers and mercenaries.

A few minutes later they had made it to the courtyard. The armaments on the roof pivoted, whirled, and clicked as they shot a large caliber bullet or missile- Solae honestly could not discern the difference, into the sky in the opposite direction. There was a thundering boom as the hurtling projectile struck its target and detonated. There was no flying debris or danger of any kind in proximity, but the newly-crowned duchess crouched instinctively and pulled Rene with her to a bench that had avoided destruction thus far. The Zatis embassy was a veritable war zone.

"I am guiding Sir Ten to your coordinates," Mia interrupted with breathless anticipation.

They did not wait long. Just as Solae's anxiety rose into her throat their heavily armored chariot arrived, hovering a few feet above the ground before landing. There was no landing pad available that was not housing the charred and smoldering remains of their adversaries' transport. Ten's team had to improve and destroy a portion of walkway that melted under the heat but did not combust into flames like the carefully landscaped greenery would have.

"What a relief," Solae sighed as she saw the hatch hiss and slide open. As she moved to stand her legs finally buckled under her weight as her overwhelmed psyche conceded defeat. The elegant woman crumpled, not due to any mortal affliction, but because she had pushed well past her personal limits. Exhausted from being confused, terrified, and subjected to a seemingly endless supply of stress, with no training that would build her endurance for such intense scenarios, it was not all that surprising she collapsed. New recruits to the armed services were prone to being dazed despite their preparation when they met with an actual, authentic attack. It was the sight of their rescuers climbing through the portal that signaled to the flaxen-haired dignitary she could be granted her respite.

The Betrothed

It was equal parts amusing and infuriating to Tobias how his royal cousin was so possessive of the fiancee that he had previously declared he did not want. Had he been confident that this was a manifestation of sincere emotion, rather than Luke simply coveting his own "property," he might have considered forfeiting his affections for the woman in question. As it was, he suspected that the heir to the throne only cared for Rhiane because she was "his," and was thus not seriously invested. Since they were children the crown prince was reluctant to share any of his toys. The former farmer was not a playtime bauble, but in the eyes of the queen she was also not a person, and the heir to the throne shared some of those same prejudices.

Rhiane's eyes were glued to her betrothed as he entered the bath and descended into the pool. Despite all their bickering, and their most recent heated argument, it was undeniable that she remained attracted to him. She had doubted whether or not any semblance of feeling would continue after they consummated their relationship. He was a playboy and she was a woman who spurned romantic attachments. It was more normal for the odd couple to lose interest in a partner once they had the "victory" or experience of physical intimacy; that was had happened historically. The morning foray had only drawn the princess elect deeper into her infatuation. Now that she knew the warmth of his embrace, the earnestness his passion could have once he shed his title temporarily, and how well they matched were when they did not fight, she could not dismiss him as easily as before.

She had ripped away her gaze, her face slightly flushed, and Tobias had glared from where he was connected via the device. Moments before he had been able to coax Rhiane into a conversation that played into his favor. Luke's parade into close proximity made it impossible to ignore the quiet yearning of the sultry brunette's features. Intercourse was not encouraged before marriage but it was also not forbidden in official arrangements. Tobias could not voice a single warning or objection because he was the interloper and it was well within Luke's right, if not expected of him, to take some advantage of shared accommodations and privacy. This knowledge was why he strove to keep them from being alone when the opportunity arose.

When the princess elect realized who was on the phone she immediately brightened. She inched away from Luke, so that the inherent temptation of him was not distracting, and became absorbed in laughing and chatting with her future sister-in-law. They filled a void for one another. Just like Callista did not have a sister and had a mother who was often too busy for her, Rhiane also had only brothers and a deceased mother that was absent in her life. Any hope she had for another woman in the family had been dashed some time ago. Gerard was gay and devoted to Sebastian, whom she adored but was not female, and her father refused to consider the possibility of remarrying. Hubert Black had only enough room in his heart for his late wife Violet.

Perhaps more surprising than their fast friendship was how genuine and forthright Rhiane was with the princess. Luke had witnessed her interact with a wide variety of people during the beginning leg of their tour. She was almost always warm, gregarious, charming, and sociable, most of which were traits she shared with the only daughter of the queen, but it was difficult to discern where the act ended and the real Rhiane began. She was so adept at interweaving her charisma with a fictional idealized version of herself that even the courts could not perceive the veil that existed. With Callista she was different. She was kind, thoughtful, and patient, but she also spoke with a tender care that proved her honesty. There were parts of herself she shielded the innocent royal from, such as her injury, trauma, or morbid sense of humor, but she was more free with her than anyone save Luke himself.

"Ms. Black was having difficulty staying awake of her own accord," Tobias intoned loudly enough that he would be heard by the backside looming in his range of vision, but not so loud he would interrupt the spirited discussion taking place a couple feet away. He trusted his audience knew why this was important without needing to explain. An exhausted visitor to the hot springs could overheat and/or drown if they fell into a deep enough sleep. "I will need to be reconnected when you leave to keep an eye on her status," he added with certainty in his voice. He did not believe that Luke would want to stay longer than necessary, much less coddle the fiancee he had ignored during dinner. The bodyguard also hoped his words might encourage his rival to depart if he did not have the implied responsibility of watching over Rhiane.

Just as Tobias was about to sever his surveillance camera he heard the topic of the ring resurface. "Oh, it's not that important," Rhiane was saying hastily. "It's nothing to worry about," she reassured, "just something that popped into my mind when I was getting undressed."

Typically the engagement ring was chosen before the bride or groom was selected. There were several reasons for this: the image of a happy union had to be cultivated from its inception, the candidates could not afford their own jewelry, and the crown had expensive tastes. Heirloom rings were informally forbidden. Approximately half of the queens of New Rome met with tragic ends that made some of their possessions difficult to salvage. Even if they were reclaimed there was the issue that a pure-blood did not want to share what a peasant-born queen had once worn. Sometimes the original ring from the induction ceremony was kept. Other times the kin of the sovereign would replace the engagement ring during the duration of the engagement as a sign of love, because their taste changed, or the design did not suit the person. Infamously one particularly petite previous princess elect had such a large band and stone that it was viciously mocked until it was exchanged for a more delicate setting.

The Betrothed

Although Rhiane could not be certain whether the trip to the hot spring was an unspoken award for her performance, a treat for the prince himself after a long day, or simply a whim that seized hold, she was determined to take full advantage of the luxurious accommodations. Her economic situation prevented her from being able to vacation, much less somewhere quite so fantastic, or in such a remote location. She could not help but be constantly amazed at the difference between the lifestyle she was born into and that of the nobility. This had been too lofty a dream for the former farmer to even imagine. Now that she was before the grandiose building that housed such an tantalizing experience, she felt quite invigorated.

When it came to the issue of maintaining security while she was soaking there was a slight disagreement. Rhiane, showing her typical disregard for her own safety, insisted that she needed no accompaniment whatsoever. Tobias refused to allow her to bathe without some form of protective protocol. They debated all the way until they reached they were before the doors of the women's waiting room. It was as close as the pair came to an actual argument. The bodyguard was too stoic and respectful to exhibit anger during most discussions and Rhiane recognized that her sole friend in the palace had good intentions. Lia and Octavia wisely stayed out of the spirited conversation and waited for the result. A compromise was reached that the princess elect would use a device that would keep her in visual contact with the prince's cousin, but the broadcasted image would be from the shoulders up so as to maintain some semblance of appropriate modesty, and they would only intervene if absolutely necessary.

She disrobed as she entered the steaming pool of water. While she would have liked to enjoy the sensation of slowly sinking into the liquid, letting its soothing heat massage away the tension in her body, she knew that tarrying too long would be invitation for an interruption from her detail. Rhiane moved to the far side of the pool and propped up the device given to her by Tobias on the edge of the smooth carved surface. The angle would reveal her head only as it the apparatus was several inches above the edge of the water. Her long hair and been twisted and wound into a haphazard bun at the back of her head to keep it from becoming tangled during her indulgent dip.

"You were right, I'm quite tired," the princess elect admitted as she rested her neck against the smooth stone behind her and gazed upward. The velvety black sky was dotted with starts that shone like brilliant diamonds. She had a pang of regret for not studying the constellations more in school. There was little to be gained from the knowledge of what myth was tied to what arrangement, and she never ventured anywhere where she might need their guidance, she felt that she was missing some enigmatic portion of their beauty in her ignorance. Briefly her attention flickered to her fiance as she idly wondered if he would know the stories behind each sparkling pinpoint of wonder.

"I will have Lia and Octavia...," Tobias began solemnly with this expectation this was her concession that she ought not to have gone into the hot springs at all. He had warned her repeatedly of the inherent danger of overheating when one was too exhausted to know when they might drift off in the warm embrace of the pool. There was even an ornate carved warning on the walls surrounding the women's section to remind them of the risks.

"No," she laughed lightly, turning her head towards the screen, "talk to me to help keep me awake. I told you I'd regret it if I didn't partake. Since you have to keep and eye on me anyway we can talk to make sure I do not fall asleep," she suggested glibly.

"I'm not good at..." he started again.

"I think I'm already started to feel more drowsy," Rhiane teased with an over-exaggerated yawn to help emphasize how adamant she was that he accept her proposal. It wasn't entirely fake. The nap in the SUV had helped restore her, but not sufficiently to chase away the temptation of the bed. Had she not been terrified of haunting nightmares she might have opted to retire early and visit the pools in the early morning before their planned departure.

They talked for quite some time about trivial matters, with the princess elect doing most of the talking, as she understood that her companion was sincerely of a more taciturn nature. Their topics meandered from childhood memories of Gerald and Edwin's pranks on one another, to anecdotes of the people in her village with their various problems, to what she might do if she had a farm and all the wealth in the world to spend on only its expenses. She revealed how fond she was of fruit-bearing trees because groves were easier to tend to than crops that had to be planted yearly, but how she would always plant extra carrots for herself due to their sweet taste, and all the equipment she had always wished to be able to afford. Ultimately the subject drifted to Rhiane's feelings on the afternoon's tour and her peers.

"Do you still believe that Prince Luke could end the rebellion in the same manner you spoke of earlier?" Tobias inquired. On the surface the event had been a success. He knew, however, that there had been a chasm that grew between the couple. He hoped to foster doubt in Rhiane's mind so that she would more easily forego her bizarre faith in the heir to the throne and join the revolution. His intentions were hidden beneath an impenetrable countenance and a vague question.

"I'm not ready to give up on him yet," she sighed as she momentarily closed her eyes. "But it's not my place to discuss strategy. No one has asked my opinion on anything except you. We're on an engagement tour and no one's asked me my preferences for a ring," she murmured. "If no one's given a second thought about what rock I want to wear on my finger, or what attire I'd want, they'll never care about something so monumental as what I want for changes in social and economic policy. All I can do is try to trust someone finds the answer." Rhiane shrugged as if it did not matter to her. The more than she and Tobias spoke the more it became apparent to them both that she was not quite so oblivious to the larger political machinations as she feigned. Her passions were nuanced, suppressed, and obscured by a pretense of disinterest, but became exposed with precise examination.

"Your ring?" Tobias asked puzzled.

"Just promise me that when you propose it will be fantastically romantic so that I can experience it second hand through your retelling," she requested without realizing that the only person in her bodyguard's heart was herself.

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

"Your grace," Solae breathed in greeting, just as shocked as Rene at the appearance of arguably the most powerful woman in the known universe. Her parents had never really prepared her for meeting the empress; because they had chosen to raise their child on a world other than Capella, the opportunity was unlikely to arise, and should it ever come to pass they had planned counsel her once the need was apparent. Obviously neither had anticipated their untimely deaths preceding their daughter having such a fortunate encounter. It was far too late to observe proper etiquette. The marquise was disheveled, her lover was bleeding, and both were still wearing their mercenary soldier disguises.

This sudden turn of events brought unbidden tears to the edges of the diplomat's eyes. No matter how her optimistic her fiance was about the recent past, the last week had been a struggle. Solae strongly suspected that they had both been clinging to the last shreds of hope as they strove against impossible odds to make it to the embassy and access the highly guarded communication device. After seeing her closest friend die, hearing second-hand of the deaths of her mother and father, watching her ex-suitor's mansion crumble, nearly being abducted by slavers, almost dying fleeing New Concordia with enemies at their heels, threading a landing through a hurricane, saving Rene when he had been captured, and breaching a building filled with hostile forces, she had started to disbelieve they would succeed. It had been a soft voice in the back of mind warning her to brace for the likelihood of failure. Scraping by as they had could not continue indefinitely.

"I only wish we had met under better circumstances," she said with a bow before shifting her attention briefly to Alric de Quentain, giving him a polite nod of acknowledgment before continuing. The overwhelming surge of relief still choked her words though not sufficiently that it was a social faux pas. Solae was not the first nor would she be the last to be overcome with emotions while in the presence of the empress. "Duke Tan launched a coordinated strike on the imperial stations on New Concordia. As far as I am aware there is no surviving nobility besides myself, and none except Rene," she said with a motion of her hand, "escaped the assault on the Imperial Marine base."

"And he pursues you," Mercedez Vilentrae observed with a shrewd cunning.

"He does," Solae admitted. "A very sizeable bounty has been put on my head but with the stipulation I am returned to him alive. It is our belief that he has secured a PEA but he is unable to operate it without a diplomat of sufficient clearance to grant him access. We've evaded him thus far but I am not sure for how much longer."

"Reinforcements will be dispatched retrieve you," the empress said with an unflappable confidence that made it sound as if were the most simple of operations, "as well as assess the situation more fully. Do you know which planets are currently within Duke Tan's control?" she inquired. Behind her eyes burned a keen intellect that was doing mental calculations of which squadrons could be spared and would be the most effective. Her resources were not as endless as she lead her subjects to believe and, with the civil unrest and coup on the prime world itself, she had to be judicious with whom and how many could be deployed.

"If I may be so bold, your eminence, I would like to make a request," Solae ventured diplomatically serenely. Her heart was beating out of her chest and she was inwardly anxious that at any moment Bhast might begin shooting through Rene's haphazardly created barricade. Not only was time of the essence, their lives were in imminent danger, and she was about to ask a favor of the highest authority she knew. No one, not the most highly esteemed duke, or the most composed handmaiden, would not have some apprehension.

Mercedez Vilentrae raised a single elegantly groomed brow as an indication she may proceed.

"It is my understanding that the program through which one might enter the marines is both to repay Stellar Empire in service and prove one's loyalty. Rene Quentain rescued me from two of Tan's soldiers before he even knew who I was and, despite everything that has been offered to him over the last week, including most recently enough wealth to purchase his own planet, he had been steadfast in his dedication and convictions. Many lesser men would have capitulated long before now, your highness. In light of his valor and fealty, I would ask for your consideration in having his service time lifted or removed, and allow him to be assigned as my personal bodyguard for the time being. I have faith he is uniquely positioned to keep me safe until your agents arrive," she said with a bow at the waist to help emphasize her sincerity.

"That is quite an unusual request," the empress commented slowly as the considered the consequences of agreeing to such a pardon.

"I personally vow that, should you so us such mercy, we will prove ourselves worthy of your generosity. I believe in Mr. Quentain's innocence and will strive to unveil the murderer who yet runs free, I will take Mr. Quentain into my own house rather than impose on his father, and I hope to compel others to oppose Duke Tan and commit themselves to our cause." Solae remained bent at the waist in an almost uncomfortable display of prostration. It was not strictly necessary but it helped to display her fervent desire.

Behind her she could tell that Rene was shell-shocked at her proclamation. Solae had expressed before that she would seek a pardon, to marry him, and to clear his name. Hearing it fall from her lips shortly after her greeting, with the empress in audience, was undoubtedly surreal to the man who had resigned himself to his fate. Again and again he had tried to impart that he had made peace with his exile. Hearing a compelling argument for his reinstatement into society, though absent his title until any official wedding took place, gave even the requestor palpitations. For once things were going right and there was potential for a dazzling, blissful, happy future on the horizon.