Aiden sighed and let them to a grand sitting room, the place looked rustic with comfortably upholstered chairs of dark carved wood and tables inlaid with the same mythological scenes they had observed elsewhere, graceful naked water nymphs forming the legs, holding the hands of broad shouldered Atlas whos outstretched arms provided the crosswise pieces. For all its archaic splendor however it was thoroughly modern in function. A careful eye could pick out access points for various electronic devices and other contemporary features. The prince sat down and gestured for Sayeeda to sit beside him before motioning all the others down.

“I fear I may have been too quick to dismiss Ranald’s counsel,” he said at last. His hands rested palm down on the table as though trying to press through the heavy timber.

“Do your intelligence people have any leads?” Sayeeda asked. Aiden smiled wrly.

“We don’t have a centralized intelligence service the way you are thinking.” Sayeeda snorted in disbelief.

“What did you blow the whole budget on fancy statues?” Aiden chuckled, the expression reaching his eyes for the first time.

“Something like that,” he admitted before explaining: “Actually most of our intelligence is gathered through personal networks of various nobles, theoretically we are supposed to share what we find, and thats fine for offworld matters where we all have the same interests but…”

The doors opened unexpectedly and two men, brothers who had been at the landing ceremony strode through the doors flanked by armed guards.

“Alexander, Aire,” Aiden greeted them in surprise. Both men were rangy and strong although neither was as handsome as the Prince himself.

“Brother,” Alexander, the taller of the two and dressed in a shiny black doublet greeted. His eyes panned to the Highlander crew.

“What are these mercenaries doing here, is this the space tramp…” the man’s tone was a sneer but Aiden stood up abruptly, his face hardening into a mask.

“These are my friends, and perhaps soon my retainers, have a care brother,” Aiden responded his tone chilling markedly. Alexander stepped back slightly and cocked his hip sideways. Junebug recognised it as a move to clear a weapon and her hand, concealed beneath the table, slid to the pistol holstered at her hip. Instead of a gun though Alexander revealed a metallic cylinder similar to the one she had seen Aiden with back on the beach.

“Oh be serious,” Aiden snapped, “father will never approve a duel between us. Now did you have something of actual import to say or is this just a ‘courtesy’ call?”
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