Hashih

The Betrothed

Luke had reason to believe that there was no special treatment granted during his time as a cadet in the military, except perhaps his early admittance into the training program. He was just an arrogant and conceited sixteen-year-old boy at that time, who was persistent in pestering his mother into writing the appointed Air Force General to grant her son a special favor by waiving the prescribed age requirement. The year he spent away from the castle and his mother’s wings was the only time in his life when he was not treated as the crown prince, but just another member of the upper class whose desire was to join the military. Common people did not mingle with the members of the nobility and the upper class even in the military service.

Nevertheless, he endured months of rigorous mental and physical training that were meant to make him and the other cadets tough fighters and survivors. And yet his knees buckled from the pain induced by an infinitesimally tiny bot, while his bride to be kept her composure and didn’t even make a sound. Absently, while he traced his steps back to the sofa, his right hand touched the base of his neck where the syringe broke the skin.

“Thank you for understanding, Ms. Black,” the queen acknowledged the princess’ expression of support. Rhiane was wise to try to talk her way into Queen Camilla’s good graces. She was wise in her decision, conscious or not, to not antagonize the queen and instead take her side of the argument. Unfortunately, Rhiane would find neither a friend, nor an ally in the queen. Luke thought she would make a good addition to her mother’s army of flatterers, though.

“The effect of the device will instantly recede once you are again within your radius,” the doctor explained just as Luke flopped to his side of the sofa.

“That would be all, Eve,” the queen dismissed the doctor. Without protest, she bowed and thanked her majesty before exiting the room.

Once there were only the three of them in the room, she regarded Rhiane with a bright smile. “I am pleased with your eagerness, Ms. Black. The preparations are on-going, but I am expecting everything to be in order by tomorrow.”

“Until then, will you disable the leash?” Luke gestured to the air between them. It was unlikely, but it was worth the shot. If she said yes, then he could tie lose ends here and there before he left with Rhiane on a tour that would probably take weeks to complete.

The queen slowly shook her head. “I’m sorry, but this is for the best.” She paced to the glass pane and paused to watch her city of tall buildings and gliding hovercrafts. All of these will one day be Luke’s responsibility – the peace and order, economy, justice, and most of all the happiness of the people which was what keeps the dynasty in power. The queen and the mentors she personally selected raised him to be the kind of person who will be able to take on such a burden. With his understanding of global politics, diplomacy, tactics, and economics, technically he was ready to rule, but it appeared that one vital education was missing and that was humility. Or at least how to fake humility. Her son was honest, just like his father. He was never good at pretending to be somebody he was not, because there was no need to do so – he was the crown prince, everybody adored him. Regrettably, he was not the type of person who would freely associate himself with common people. If only he had Calista’s gift of sociability.

“Besides, today’s activities were already lined up for the two of you starting with brunch at The Briks, but your outfits will not blend with the crowd in that neighborhood,” said the queen. “Yes, Luke, The Briks is not your type of restaurant and we do have better food in the palace. The people need to see you two among them, make them believe that you are willing to step down from your pedestal once in a while,” she added hastily when she noticed her son opening his mouth as if to object. “Go change and wear common clothes. Pretend to be in disguise, but not really. The goal is for paparazzi to circulate a few photos of you. Our staff will make ensure that there will be photos in circulation. Go ahead and get going. I’ll see you both tonight.”

Just treat this as a mission, Luke was telling himself over and over again. The goal was to fool the kingdom into believing that he consented the engagement. He turned to leave without a word, because he knew that no word that came from his mouth that day would ever sway his mother.

“You go and change first,” he told Rhiane, jerking his chin to the direction of her room, once they were outside the office.

The Betrothed

Palace staff and security paused and stepped aside to give way to their future king as he walked with purpose towards the queen’s office. His strides were long and determined and the staff knew why. There was no need for words, because voicing out their thoughts would most definitely cost them their low born lives. Meaningful glances and the slight raising of brows was enough to acknowledge what everybody in the palace knew but could not admit out loud.

Luke arrived in front of the door made of smoked glass. The seal of the queen was embossed in gold and blue on the glass. He never had the need to knock on that door, but that morning, the prince did. Luke knocked before pressing his palm on a black glass panel embedded on the wall beside the door. It slid open without a sound. Behind the door was a rectangular room large enough to house a family of four. Three adjacent walls were painted a glossy white with subtle gray tint depending on the angle at which the light touched it, while the fourth was made of clear floor to ceiling glass. Sunlight entered the room through the glass, showing the thriving metropolis of New Florence. In the middle of the glass window was Queen Camilla’s very organized desk. Behind the desk was the queen, who was frowning at the feed she was either reading or watching. When she heard somebody enter the room, she lifted her head and placed the device down before tapping the screen a few times. “Leave us,” she ordered her royal guards consisting of four very able soldiers.

“Mother,” Luke greeted as the door closed behind the last guard to exit. With the morning light behind the queen, her face was partially masked by shadow, but her eyes were burning through Luke’s soul. She slowly rose to her feet, then gestured her hand over her device and in an instant a rectangular section of the wall adjacent the door came to life. It played the infamous scene from the Victor’s Ball as covered by a local media company. Luke did not take the bait despite the annoying accent of Ambassador Jin filling the room, but instead stared back at his mother. “I saw the coverage,” he admitted.

“You think you had everything figured out, do you?”

The feed changed to reports of renewed momentum of the rebellion in different regions of the kingdom. The latest of which was reported not an hour ago wherein an estate of a baron was attacked, killing the baroness and her four-year old daughter. Both the treasury and armory of the estate was robbed, meaning more gold to fuel the revolution and more firepower to push the cause further.

Luke was silent. There was no point defending himself. Whether or not the attack was triggered by the events that happened at the Victor’s Ball, the queen had already decided that it was his fault. Arguing otherwise would only enflame her anger.

“More and more sympathizers every day. The movement is growing in number and in power, and do you know why?” She stepped around the desk and slowly walked towards Luke. The queen wore a black wrap dress underneath an embroidered orange jacket. “Because they feel that they are victims in the imbalance of wealth and power in the kingdom. You and I, they see us as the enemy. That we were born to the upper class was wrong for them, because while they waste away in the mines, the farms, the streets, you and I live our lives in unimaginable luxury.”

Luke was looking down at his mother while she stood in front of him. “It was not my fault that the clumsy farm girl was not accustomed to wearing heels. None of this would happen if only she -” The queen stopped him from talking with a backhanded slap that rang aloud across the room. Luke was startled. His eyes were bright, blue, and wildly full of questions when he sought his mother’s own. Strands of his wavy hair strayed on his face, touching his cheekbone that was grazed by a ring that the queen wore that morning. The queen’s hard expression, though, did not change.

Just then a knock was heard, and a voice announced the arrival of Ms. Rhiane Black. The queen ignored the announcement. “It is easier to disown you than to cover for all your idiotic actions, Lucius. You don’t even regret any of it do you?”

He shook his head, gritting his teeth, not trusting himself to open his mouth. The guard knocked again, then repeated the request for permission to enter the room. The queen ignored it again, but that time her face softened. She lifted her hand to cup her son’s cheek – her first born and the love of her life. She used the thumb of her hand to wipe the blood seeping out of the cut skin. The skin around the cut was starting to bruise. “My son,” her smile was bittersweet. Her voice was softer as she continued, “I’m not asking you to love the commoner, just wed her. After you do, I will not ask you to spend your life with her, just father a heir or two. After that you can re-marry into nobility.”

“Just like you did,” he failed to stop his tongue. “Just like how you murdered my father.”

The guard knocked a third time. Luke turned around and pressed his palm against the panel to open the door before the guard was done announcing the presence of her future bride.

The queen withdrew to her desk, not at all happy with the direction their conversation headed to. Luke, his face blank, passed Rhiane a cold look before turning away and walking towards a sofa to the left of the queen. “Follow me,” he instructed.

By the time that the couple was seated, the queen had already composed herself in front of her desk. “Good morning, Ms. Black. I trust that you slept well, last night? Marcel reported that the doctor was thorough in his treatment. I called you two, because of what happened last night.”

Luke sat at one end of the sofa with his eyes on the floor, while Rhiane occupied the other end. “It is not at all believable that you are happy to be with each other. Our people will not buy it. So, in order for this rags to riches sham to work, you will tour the kingdom, and you will show the people that you are in love. Think of it as a fairytale story that will be told to the future generations of the kingdom.”

The love story of a poor farmer who found her prince charming – it was the perfect distraction. Rhiane was the bridge that the monarchy needed to make the common people feel that they are closer to the nobility. Luke thought his mother was a genius in manipulating people.

“Just one more thing,” the queen added. “We cannot afford to have a repeat of what happened last night, therefore I have taken some precaution.” She pushed a button on her table and after a few moments somebody knocked at the door, which she granted permission to enter.
A woman dressed in the white uniform of doctors and nurses stepped in the room. She was carrying with her a rectangular plastic container and a gadget that looked like a scanner.

“Eve, join us.” The queen invited the woman. “As I was saying, we will take precaution to prevent a repeat of last night.” Luke straightened. He hoped the precaution was not what he thought it was. “Explain it to them, Eve.”

“Certainly, your majesty.” The woman looked at Rhiane and Luke, one after the other. “Your highness, Ms. Black,” she started, the picked a metal syringe from the container. She held it up for both Rhiane and Luke to see. “This contains nanotechnology bots that will plant itself on your spine and cause you to feel pain when you are more than 10 meters away from each other. The application process is easy and non-invasi--”

“This is not necessary, mother.” Luke interrupted the doctor. It was exactly what he thought his mother would employ, but it was too much. He did not dream of being stuck with a commoner and a stranger.

“It is, dear,” the queen was firm. “You left me with no choice. Just cooperate and don’t make this more difficult for me and for your lady friend who is sleeping in your room right now.”

If there was any resistance left in Luke, it vanished at the queen’s concealed threat. He sat straight like a behaved little school boy as the doctor deployed the tech at the base of his neck with the use of the syringe. The doctor did the same for Rhiane, but Luke didn’t notice if she protested.

“We are done,” said the doctor clapping her hands. “Only her majesty can disable the devices. So if any of you needs to be away, remember that only the queen can grant the permission.”

“Thank you, Eve,” Queen Camilla said, pleased with herself. “Now would you like to give it a try, Luke?”

“Just a warning, the pain intensifies for both of you as either of you go further away from each other.”

He had high tolerance to pain, from his training in the army. Luke would challenge the devices without being told. He got to his feet and glanced at Rhiane, trying to see if she was at all nervous, or if she had any objections against testing it, before hastily walking away. With every step, he anticipated the pain, but nothing prepared him from the jolt that hit him. It ran from his head down to his spine to his extremities. Pain made it difficult to move. It brought him down to his knees. He fought against it and crawled back to safe radius.

Breathing heavily, and sweating, he pushed himself to his feet. It felt like his strength was drained. He wondered how it was for Rhiane.

The Betrothed

Sir Jin came face to face with Queen Camilla when he turned to the direction of the nearest exit. If she was at all displeased with the turn of events, it did not show on her face. On the contrary, the queen stood proud and tall in front of the ambassador. Her chin was slightly tilted up as if she was looking down at Sir Jin, who was actually the same height as her in heels. Up close, Sir Jin noticed that what seemed like glitters were actually diamonds sewn into the sheer navy blue fabric of the queen’s dress. It traced the outline of the boat neck and extended to the cape attached at the shoulder of the dress, forming what seemed like an array of dazzling stars that followed the queen wherever she went.

“I thank you for your aid, Ambassador Jin.” The room fell silent when she spoke, even the music slowly faded. The cameras automatically pointed to her direction, anticipating a juicy coverage. The queen held he ambassador’s gaze as she addressed him, pinning him in place. The look in her eyes was a warning issued to the foreigner, a reminder that he was in her kingdom, her home, and his actions were duly noted. “It is indeed unfortunate that my son has left the ball early, but I assure you that his absence is not without reason. My darling Luke, if I may refresh your memory, ambassador, is a pilot and a field officer. I believe he is a Major, but that doesn’t matter. He left urgently upon my request on a special assignment that I have no business discussing with you.”

The advantage of being a ruling monarch was that nobody would be bold enough to tell her that what she was saying was ridiculous. Yet, it was the best that she could do to control the damage inflicted by her son’s foolish little rebellion. Luke was not always brash, he was in fact a careful and calculating person. It surprised the queen that he would act as he did, although since her son found out about how the accident that killed his father happened, their relationship had not been so great.

“Marcel,” she glanced sideways at his nephew. No further instructions or requests was needed. Immediately, the duke’s son stepped forward and plucked Rhiane from Sir Jin’s arms. “Would you take our princess elect to the infirmary. Make sure that she is treated well, and do not leave until she can walk just fine on her own.”

“Yes, your majesty.” Marcel bowed his head briefly before leaving with the princess elect. Cameras followed them towards the exit, so did Princess Cally. Before the double doors were opened for them, the orchestra started playing again as if nothing happened.

“I have always wondered what could have gotten in your heads,” Marcel mused. “You and the other contestants. We all know how this is going to end, and for what? The chance, no matter how brief, to belong to the royal family? After tonight, I don’t suppose you feel welcomed at all.”

“That’s not true,” interrupted a feminine voice. The princess went ahead of them to push the button on the lift, then waited for Marcel to step in before she entered herself. “Allow me to apologize for my brother, Ms. Black. May I call you Rhiane instead? You will find that he is a good person once you get to know him, if you will give him a chance to --”

What Calista was about to say was interrupted as the door of the lift slid open and she found two men in pristine white uniforms waiting for them. In between the two medics was a wheel chair. Marcel carefully placed Rhian down on the wheel chair then let one of the medics push the chair. As if afraid to disobey a direct order from the queen, he stayed beside Rhiane. Cally did the same.

The morning after

Luke was inclined to spend the night with Sophia at one of their estates away from Florence, but a message from Calista telling him to urgently head back to Castello di Firenze made him change his mind. Why wouldn’t he after viewing attachment to the message that showed a recording from the live broadcast covering the scene with Sir Jin and Ms. Rhiane Black?

She did trip after all. Such a clumsy peasant girl.

It was bound to happen. Place a farmer girl in high heels and the chance of her stumbling would be almost a hundred percent. Yet he did not think that her clumsiness would cause him so much trouble. His disappearance could have gone unnoticed if it weren’t for her lack of balance. It was not his first time to sneak out of his mother’s parties, but it was the first time that he got caught.

“What are you thinking about?”

Luke was absently toying with a few strands of wavy dark hair of the woman whose head rested on his bare chest. “Nothing much,” he mumbled. Despite having very little rest the night before, he was not at all sleepy. He was still thinking about the incident involving Sir Jin, and how it must have extremely angered his mother. On one hand, it was a win for him to be able to place the queen in a difficult situation, but on the other hand, the queen herself had every power to make his life miserable. The latter seemed inevitable.

The crown prince got out of bed despite Sophia’s coaxing to stay a bit longer. He bathed and dressed in fitted gray long sleeves, black trousers, then threw on a casual black coat. The summons said 8:00am. It was thirty minutes before the appointed time. He could spend a little more time with Sophia, but the more he stayed in his suite, the more restless he got. Therefore, he left early and went straight to the queen’s private office.

The Betrothed

“Welcome to my world,” Luke muttered, bowing to the farmer as the music faded to silence. Strange that a smile lingered on his lips while he thought back to how accurate her observation was. Ms. Black might not only be a pretty face and a beautiful body after all.

Underneath the riches, the fame, and the prestige that came with being a member of the noble families, was the ugly truth that kinship and loyalty had no meaning in the world he was born in. It was a world where love, kindness, compassion were seen as weakness, and power was a currency more precious than gold. In his lifetime, he became witness to betrayals and murders among friends and families. Even his own father had fallen victim to this vicious world.

He watched as she consented a dance with a man older than he, as she turned her back at him and casually walked away – as her dress accentuated her very feminine figure with her every step – then he wondered how long it would take for the court to turn this simple farm girl into one of the snakes at his mother’s court.

Luke calmly walked to the edge of the dance floor, not wanting to be caught by any camera while watching his fiancée dance in the arms of another rich man, Lord Chausson. That would make an awfully degrading headline. But on the bright side, he was free of his charge at last. He plucked a glass of whiskey from a servant’s tray and drank to temporary freedom. Free to choose whose company to be with for the night.

Drinking the contents of the glass in a few gulps, the crown prince walked towards a group of people consisting of three lords and two ladies. One of them saw him approaching and raised his half-empty cocktail to Luke’s direction. “Ah, his highness graces us with his presence,” said Luke’s cousin, and son of her mother’s brother, the Duke of Fremont (a region in modern day central France). “How does it feel to be engaged to a farmer?”

The other three dared to laugh at his misfortune. They must have been talking about him the whole time. “You must feel lucky now, Marcel, that your father is not the king and you are too far off in the line of succession.” Luke shot back.

“Fourth, dear cousin, I’m fourth in line. Not really that far.” The duke’s son shrugged. He was three years older than Luke. “But then if I will be forced to marry a commoner, I may as well abdicate. Knowing you, I’m surprised you haven’t already.”

One of the ladies subtly placed herself between the crown prince and the duke’s son. She looped her free arm around Luke’s and leaned her loosely curled black hair against his shoulder, before butting in, “Well, he can’t let you get closer to the throne, can you now, Luke?” She was a tall woman, though not quite as tall as Rhiane, with glowing complexion that might have been medically enhanced. The features on her heart-shaped face was delicate, made more beautiful with the skillfully placed make-up, and accentuated with dark red lipstick. She was one of the more beautiful members of the upper class and was photographed with Luke by paparazzi more than once. “I know that you came for me,” Sophia Keller teased, watching him from beneath her thick eyelash extensions.

He offered his arm to the lady. “I wouldn’t have walked this way otherwise, knowing that my cousin Marcel is within five-meter radius.”

Marcel snickered. “What will your mother say, cousin Luke, when she finds out that you are with another woman on your engagement night? Or are you two starting to plan how to make it look like an accident?” He gestured his now empty glass to Luke then to Sophia.

The prince tensed, but he managed to keep a tight leash on his temper. “The only funeral I am planning right now is yours, Marcel.” He turned to the other three who were silent the whole time to politely ask to be excused, before he and Sophia joined the crowd on the dance floor.

He wondered where his fiancée was, whether she was still dancing with the lords, and how many feet did she already step on that night. As for him, he and Sophia shared more than one dance, talking and laughing at each other’s stories and jokes, before finally discretely exiting the ballroom and disappearing into the night.

The Betrothed

The camera panned to the faces of the nobility and dignitaries invited to the Victor’s Ball as they applauded the pronouncement of the queen. However, while the cameras were focused elsewhere, a pair of servants approached the royal family. Each carried a silver tray with half-filled wine glasses. One by one, the royalties secure for themselves a wine glass.

“And so,” her royal highness continued, now holding a glass of wine. As she spoke the camera turned its attention back to her. “Please join me in congratulating Ms. Rhiane Black, a woman who despite being of common birth, possessed exceptional beauty, intellect, skills, and grace worthy of the crown.” She paused to glance at Rhiane with a kind smile before she raised her glass. “May she inspire those of us who dream, to dream for the stars. More importantly, may she bear beautiful and healthy princes and princesses.”

The noble guests laughed, raised their glasses and drank their wine in honor of Rhiane Black, the princess-elect, the future queen.

Luke did the same, longing for more of the bittersweet Ibourg Blanc, one of the most expensive alcohol to ever exist in the post-war era, to accompany him throughout the night. Actually, any alcoholic drink would do just fine so long as it got him drunk enough to forget the humiliation. None of the members of high society would speak against the tradition of the selection of the heir’s future spouse, but he could read faint, almost indiscernible hints of disapproval from these people. No one in his right mind would even consider associating themselves with a commoner, unless absolutely necessary. It was even considered scandalous to have an affair with somebody outside the nobility, but now he, the rightful heir to the throne, was about to very publicly marry one.

“Shall we begin the celebration?” Queen Camilla’s voice cut through his train of thoughts. He watched how with a gesture of the queen’s hand, the orchestra started playing a fusion of classical and modern music. The beat was slow and the melody sweet. Luke tensed. “I’ll let my son and his fiancée lead this dance.”

He knew it was coming. Calista nodded at her brother with a smile, probably knowing how the prince would react, though he barely noticed her. Instead, with a smile on his face, Luke turned to their mother. But it was through gritted teeth that he said, “This is too much. Do I really have to?”

“It is your duty, Lucius.” It was Prince Damien who, in a gentle voice, answered for the queen. He moved to the side of the queen, offering his arm. Camilla nodded as if to thank her husband. The couple walked towards the staircase framing the royals’ private balcony. “Go on, the cameras are waiting,” added the older prince.

Without a word, Luke led Rhiane to the center of the dance floor a bit more hasty than normal. He might have dragged her, but he couldn’t care at that moment. All he could think of was how much he wanted the night to end. When they reached the center, he faced her, and maybe for the first time looked her in the eye. The eye contact was brief as Luke was too quick to bow. After the ceremonial bow, he took her hand and twirled her around in time with the beat of the orchestra.

It was precisely because of occasions like the Victor’s Ball that dancing became a mandatory skill that princes and princesses should learn. Luke was good at it, not better than any of his younger brothers, but decent at least. Then he remembered he was not dancing with a princess. “Can you dance? I mean this kind of dance?” Not sure how she would answer, he slowed down and placed one arm around her waist.

Somebody gasped audibly at the gesture.

Nevertheless, he pulled her close so that they don’t have to make big movements but still pretend to be dancing by swaying in time with music. He recalled what she said before they stepped out of the waiting room, that it was the first time that she wore heels. Ms. Rhiane Black did not belong to his world, just like he did not belong to hers. She was a farmer and he was a prince. She was born to till the land, while he was born to rule those who till the land. When he became king, he swore to himself that the stupid breeding ritual would be the first law that he would abolish. None of his descendants should ever suffer the humiliation.

“Listen, Ms. Rhiane Black,” he whispered. By that time, couples were already on the dance floor to join them while more cocktail drinks and food were being served to the guests. “I suppose you understand your role in this charade. You have value for this family until you produce healthy grandchildren for the queen. After she is satisfied, you are dispensable. That may take years, unfortunately. Years that we will be forced to spend together. It will be beneficial to both of us if you will stick to your intended purpose and not mind any of my business as I will not mind yours. It should be a simple enough rule.”

The Betrothed

Beautiful classical music from notable Italian composers like Vivaldi, Verdi, and Puccini, serenaded the guests at the grand ballroom. It was truly an event worthy of the global stage as it showcased the beautiful post-modern architecture that Castello di Firenze was famous for.

The grand ballroom was a circular dome sitting on top of one of the castle’s highest tower. It boasted an unobstructed view of the night sky and the city of New Florence. For the protection of the guests, the dome was constructed out of of military grade glass that can withstand aerial attacks. The interior of the ballroom was decorated with hues of gray, blue, white, and a touch of gold. The most notable, perhaps, was a massive crystal chandelier hanging from the center of the dome like droplets of rain frozen in time. The light would touch the crystals making it twinkle and burst with multitudes of colors. As if for coherence, the centerpiece of the guests' tables arranged around the dome was adorned with the same, though significantly smaller in scale. The table arrangement was in a semi circle pattern on the left and right hemisphere, leaving the center of the room vacant for the purpose of dancing and socialization. The royal family was expected to occupy the tables on a semi circular mezzanine opposite the main entrance, above the guests' tables and behind a dais that the queen occupied at the moment.

The guests arrived earlier that night through a lift connected to a launchpad several floors beneath the event. Upon exiting the lift, they were greeted with a rare concerto from Vivaldi’s repertoire as their senses took in an exquisite flower garden that bloomed all year round. Security was especially tight that no matter the position of the guest, he or she was subjected to pass through a security scan to have his or her identity verified by the network before the announcer can announce his or her presence, if needed. Once done, the guests were greeted by ushers wearing the colors of the kingdom and helped them find their assigned table. However, for very important guests, they were requested to march along the red carpet to personally greet the royal family.

A waiting room adjacent to the ballroom was where Lucius should be right at that moment.

That was what worried Calista. She overheard the tone of the queen as she was talking to her brother and it seemed that he was still not where he should be. Contrary to popular belief, Luke was not a fan of fancy balls and parties, especially events hosted by their mother. The Victor’s ball was the worst for two reasons – it was broadcasted live all over the world, and it was the venue that announced his farewell to freedom.

This was the opposite for the princess. She loved these events, loved to dress-up, and of course loved to socialize with the nobility and important persons in the kingdom. With the confidence that came with being the second in line to the throne paired with charisma and a bright smile, she was what people would call a social butterfly. But that night, in the absence of her brother, it became her duty to stand at the dais beside her mother and step-father to greet foreign dignitaries as their arrival was announced one by one. The last of which had greeted the royal family about 30 minutes ago. She eagerly watched the stairways made of glass that straddled the main guest entrance. The stairways led to a chrome double door bearing the family’s crest, which was the designated for the grand entrance of the crown prince and the princess elect.

She leaned to her mother’s ear. “Mother, may I be excused to check on Luke?”

Pleasant as the queen may look in a regal navy blue gown, her voice was tight and her smile a bit on the scary side when she turned to her daughter. “Go and find my damnable son, dearest.”

Calista nodded in relief. Her step-father, the tall and striking Prince Damien also gave her permission to leave. Calista wasted no time. She headed to the nearest exit just as the Violin Concerto in A minor was concluded. Cold evening breeze and the delicate scent of flowers greeted her outside the ballroom. She found staff, also dressed for the occasion, and equipment setup by a handful of authorized media to cover the event. As part of the protocol, interviews were not allowed so nobody bothered Calista as she dragged the precious stone-encrusted train of her peach dress.

She was not halfway through the garden when Luke stepped out of the lift together with one of the twins, Nico. “Luke!” Calista practically ran to her brother. Thankfully he was dressed for the occasion, in the ceremonial white tunic adorned with golden buttons, lining, and ceremonial pins on the right side of his chest that indicated his status not only in the monarchy, but also as a pilot of the strike force. His tunic was paired with black trousers and leather shoes. He was truly a sight to behold – a head taller than most, with just the right amount of muscles not too bulky and not at all lanky. Add to this his tanned complexion and the commanding presence that came with being the crown prince. There was no wonder that a sudden hush overtook the garden when he stepped out, but it was the intensity in those eyes and the tight set of his jaw, Cally thought, that did most of the job.

Beside him, Nico, who society would tag as exceptionally handsome, looked like a commoner beside Luke. He was wearing a similar fashion as his brother, but in the color black and with significantly less embellishments. The ceremonial attire which the crown prince and the other princes wore was not too different from what was worn in the past. Perhaps it was an attempt to honor tradition that was in place even before the monarchy was established.

“Cally, get back inside before our dragon of a mother bites both our heads off!” Luke yelled from across the garden, causing hushed giggles from the present media and some members of the nobility. His voice, low and commanding, had always had a melodious tone to it. “Take this princeling with you and never take your eyes off him and his evil twin.” He shoved Nico towards the direction of his sister.

The younger prince, still a head shorter than Luke, also a few inches shorter than Calista wearing heels, flipped the finger at his brother. “He’s just mad because I caught him in the middle of --” Luke cut him off by pinching his cheeks, just like when they were kids. It annoyed both Nico and his twin Philip, but it was very effective. “Ouch! Lucius!”

“Get inside before I lose my cool and let you have it, brother.”

Nico’s brows furrowed, but he could not challenge his older brother’s order. By that time, Cally was standing before him. She reached up and smoothed her brother’s fashionably mussed hair, which she guessed was not the stylist’s idea. His face was clean shaven, making him look younger and more handsome in her opinion despite the tense set of his jaw and lips.“You were flying again, were you?”

“Yes, and it didn’t help this time. But now I have to go, and you should too. Tell mother that her beloved heir is here." The prince paused, as if thinking for the right words. "Against his will, as usual, but present nevertheless.”

Inside the waiting room, the pressure was evident in the air. The event coordinators were about to make a decision that would not please the queen but would at least stop the speculations being made by the media. They were about to send the princess elect out without her prince. In his place was one of the more pleasant looking castle guards. He was dressed in finery but was not meant to upstage any member of the royal family.

Without looking her in the eye, Darkhorse 3 offered his arm to the princess elect. Everything was in place, everybody had the green signal when the security from outside the waiting room demanded, "stand down, Darkhorse 3. Escort is here."

The collective sigh of relief was audible all over the room, from the ladies in waiting to the staff, even the guards themselves. At the same time, Luke entered the waiting room all by himself. There was no urgency in the manner which he moved, just fluid grace and tightly leashed power.

The proxy escort, who still had his arm offered out for Rhiane Black bowed and stepped aside. “I’ll take it from here,” Luke confirmed, then assumed his position beside the princess elect, without paying her much attention.

As soon as the couple was in position, the room burst with activity. The beautician made a final retouch to Rhiane, while another quickly slicked Luke’s hair to a more formal style. Possibly sensing how tensed the woman was, Luke said still without looking at her, “It will be fine. Hold on to my arm, and just focus on your steps. Smile at the cameras, and for heaven’s sake do not trip.”

“This is Lady Victor 1 to command center. Escort is ready.”

The command center replied, “Copy that, Lady Victor 1. Command center to Ground. Prepare for arrival.”

As if on cue, the lights inside the room dimmed and the door slid open. Without a word, he led the princess elect to the den of lions, or more popularly known as his mother’s court.

The orchestra stopped the concerto as the pleasant male voice of the night’s host filled the room. “Presenting, His royal highness, Prince Alessandro Lucius Castiliogne and our Princess elect, Ms. Rhiane Black.” The room erupted with clapping just as the orchestra played a different tune.

He was used to this. True to his advice to Rhiane, Luke smiled for the camera and took careful steps down the grand staircase, all the while hoping that Rhiane would indeed not trip and take him down with her. A red carpet was lain on the staircase leading to the dais where the queen sat proudly. On her right was Prince Damian and their twins, while on her left was Calista wearing her shoulder length curls and bright smile. Gathered around the room were people he had met at least once in his life, some he knew by name, others just a familiar face.

The march to the queen was long, but thankfully uneventful. The closer he came to his mother, the better he could see the subtle hints that told him that despite the amiable expression on her face, she was not at all happy. Regardless, as she would always say, the show must go on.

Luke brought them to the foot of the dais then bowed a deep respectful bow to the queen. He trusted that Rhiane was properly oriented with proper conduct of court. “Your majesty, I present you our Princess elect, my future bride, Ms. Rhiane Black.”

The queen tilted her head in acknowledgement before getting up on her feet.

"Ladies and gentlemen, people of New Florence and of the new Kingdom of Rome," she started. Her face, an older version of Calista's, was projected on a section of the dome that turned into a monitor above the dais. She was a beauty to behold with her dark brown almond-shaped eyes, narrow full lips, and complexion that betrayed her real age. "Tonight we uphold the tradition of our fathers that went before us, to keep the royal bloodline of the House of Castiglione strong for the purpose of the advancement of the kingdom and the protection of our people." She gestured with her hand for Luke and Rhiane to join her as she addressed the kingdom and the world. "I present to you, my beloved kingdom, our princess and future queen, Ms. Rhiane Black, the Lady Victor, and the future of Rome."

The Betrothed

It was all dots and lines. Hundreds or even thousands of bright dots and lines gleaming in a vast sea of shadow like stars in the night sky, but better. Better because every dot and every line was testimony to the resilience of the human race, a reminder that it had been over a century since the Treaty of Casablanca signaled the end of the sixty-year world war.

The year was 174 PB, or 174 years after the war. Earth was not the same, it will never be the same. The last great war had permanently scarred the planet. Mountains were levelled, bodies of water were reclaimed, and countries were rendered unlivable. Borders of nations were blurred as the strongest of the survivors dared to grab land and resources to keep its people alive. Such was the case of the Kindgom of Rome.

Modern day Italy, Austria, Germany, and France made up what historians called the resurrected Roman Empire. Led by the reigning Queen, Camilla Castiglione, it maintained its superpower status and continued to be the one of the most influential economies in Europe and in the world. Such was a heavy burden that one day the crown price, Queen Camilla’s eldest son, Alessandro Lucius Castiglione, would carry on his shoulders.

But that night, the prince was content to watch New Florence, the capital of the kingdom, through the eyes of his surveillance aircraft. The nightscape had always fascinated him. Those little dots and lines, hovercrafts moving on the concentric circumferential traffic network, was like little working ants falling in line to bring gifts to the queen. At the center of the network was an imposing architecture that rose above all other buildings in the metropolis, it looked like shards of broken glass stuck to the earth – fourteen shards to be exact. Castillo di Firenze, or the Castle of Florence was literally at the heart of the kingdom’s capital. Its network of monumental pointed glass towers was the most impressive architecture in the city.

The surveillance aircraft’s reflection flew past one of the towers, then it traced a spiral path around it until –

“We are fast approaching LSALT. Collision with a hovercraft imminent, your highness,” warned the female flight assistant programmed into the aircraft. It sounded like Serena Boutin, an award-winning actress, which pleased Luke.

The prince’s expression did not falter as he let the aircraft fly lower and lower until he can see hovercrafts coming and leaving the landing pad. There was still a long line of hovercrafts waiting for their turn to deposit their passenger into the biggest event of the year – the Victor’s ball and his engagement party. Every important people in the land together with world leaders would be present. His mother was happy to host such an extravagant party.

Just then, he felt somebody’s arms snaked around his shoulder the same time soft lips touched his cheek and a feminine voice whispered, “I knew I’d find you here.” It did not sound like his flight assistant, but he did recognize the voice.

“Serena, autopilot mode. Bring this baby home,” he commanded, pressed a few buttons on the console, then lifted off his VR headset. The voice of the assistant was vaguely heard as she confirmed the pilot’s order and the time that the aircraft would arrive at the destination. Without the VR headset, he was no longer airborne. The view of New Florence was replaced by a tall woman in tight red gown who squeezed her way into the remote cockpit and was about to straddle his thighs. “Woman, I waited for you for hours,” he emphasized the last word.

The woman just smiled, not even sheepish for making the crown prince wait. Her lips were red as sin and was so inviting. The yellowish glow of the disengaged remote cockpit emphasized the soft planes of her face and made her black eyes look darker. In contrast, Luke’s eyes were blue as the sky on a summer day. His was a face that could stop a man or a woman in his tracks, and it did happen more than once. It was the product of generations of selective breeding. He had a fine bone structure and an almost perfectly symmetrical face, which at that moment was softening as the woman appealed to the prince’s primal masculine instincts by slowly sliding forward with her arms around his neck. The low neckline of her dress revealed much skin, but he barely noticed as his thin lips focused on returning the kiss. His hands knew what to do and where to go, but stopped when he heard the door slide open.

A muffled voice, then there was the clear and crisp voice of the queen. “Alessandro Lucius Castiliogne”

Of course, he had to pull away from what was just beginning to be an urgent and passionate kiss. Actually, the woman pulled away with much haste, even withdrawing from his lap. Wearily, he turned his face towards the direction of the sound.

“Mother asked me to find you,” said a man in black suit. His blue eyes and serious brow was much like Luke’s, but where Luke had light brown wavy hair, the other man had straight blonde hair. He was holding a mobile device with the projection of the queen’s face.

Thanks to the advancement in medicine, the queen did not look like a day older than thirty, although she was already in her fifties. Her head was projected as a 3D image. “Thank you, Nico,” she turned to the bringer of the message before directing her maternal voice to her eldest son. “I will expect you to be at the main ballroom in fifteen minutes. Not a second late, or there will be consequences.”

“I was busy surveying the castle perimeter.”

“That is not what I saw, Lucius. This family does not need another scandal.” Her face vanished in thin air. Nico shrugged and started to walk away. Not minding the woman, who was a nobleman’s daughter named Lena, Luke caught up with his half-brother.

“Better run Luke, or there will be consequences,” he imitated their mother.

Nico was not yet done speaking when Luke heavily slung his arm around the younger prince’s shoulder. “I owe you, Nico.” He stirred them towards the nearest elevator.

“No you don’t. That was nothing, just doing what I was told.”
“No, no. I owe you. For not knocking, for bringing with you the queen’s eyes.” The elevator’s door slid open and the brothers entered.

Blades of the Shogun - The Island of Screams

First post done! But let me know if you have any concerns with it. I assumed that the shinsengumi is also the courier.

Blades of the Shogun - The Island of Screams

Aki

Five days ago, Homura had the pleasure of tasting the blood of a Shinsengumi. It would have been a great story to tell Yoshiaki, except that she had the feeling that she would not be home for quite a long time.

If she had the chance, Aki would have told her sensei that she was wearing a gray haori over dark blue kimono, the one with white and peach autumn flowers that reminds her of the field where she used to play as a child. Her hair was gathered in a neat side bun, carefully decorated with flowers of the season. If her sensei would contest that she might have looked like a suspicious person, Aki would firmly say that she was not. That night, she was just another tourist surveying the lively tents of merchants selling products from all over Kujin. Aki even bought three bottles of her sensei’s favorite sake.

The Shinsengumi incident happened after she left the night market. Actually, she was half done with her sushi when she noticed the suspicious uniformed man watching her from under his straw hat. It made her decide to walk at a leisurely pace towards the exit. Towards somewhere dark and less crowded.

Her leisurely walk brought her to a shrine on top of a hill that overlooked the festivities. The distance muted its noise until only the sound of her geta (wooden sandals) tapping the stone steps and the soft rustling of the leaves could be heard. She did not know which deity the shrine was build for, but she did know that she will be offering a sacrifice of blood that night.

“Aki,” the syllables lingered in the cold autumn breeze. Such a soft sound, but to her it was like a clap of thunder. She acted out of instinct and attacked with a shuriken. He easily deflected it with his sword before taking a step towards her. The ninja would be a fool not to defend herself. She drew one of her short swords and ran towards the shrine, kicking off her geta in the process. Footsteps followed her, his speed picking up, but she was faster and nimbler. She hastily scaled the wall of the shrine, and knowing he was close, somersaulted once at the roof’s edge. She landed on her feet behind him. There was no time to waste. Before he can react, Aki used the momentum of her fall to push her forward and to drive her weapon into the Shinsegumi’s upper arm muscle. She pinned him to the wall as the sound of his cry drowned the hiss of metal as his samurai fell to the ground.

“How did you find me?” the ninja asked, putting pressure on the short sword’s hilt to keep her hostage in place.

He smiled despite his position. “It is not difficult to find a beautiful fac--” Aki moved the blade at an angle cutting him off. Through gritted teeth he continued, “I bear no intention to harm you, Kitsune. I bring a message from my lord.”

“How did you find me?” her voice came out in a low tone.

“The lord I represent, he has eyes and ears on the ground. If you will consider his request, your questions will be answered.”

Looking back, she thought that he should have said that sooner. It would have saved them both time, but the Shinsengumi had to provoke a ninja. Nevertheless, his injury was tended to and she even insisted on paying him for the damages made.

It was out of curiosity that she accepted the invitation. She hastily traveled to Odikawa, bringing with her the three bottles of sake. Two days later, it was the same three bottles that she used to bribe the head housekeeper of the manor with a silver crescent moon into accepting her services. She had to know who it was that summoned her and how he found her. It was clearly not the master of the house, because judging with the amount of preparation being done in her two days of working as a house staff, it was obvious that he was expecting someone important.

Blades of the Shogun - The Island of Screams

Aki

Name: Aki
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Class: Ninja
Clan: Lotus

Appearance: Aki is 5'6" tall woman weighing just a little over 50kg. She has long black hair, fair complexion, and light brown eyes just like most women in Kujin. It is difficult to accurately describe Aki. As a ninja, she has mastered the art of transforming into someone else. She can be both a man and a woman, a peasant, a samurai, a merchant, a monk, or a feudal lord's child. It is only when she has her red kimono and shinobi mask on that she trully feels like herself.

Weaknesses & Fears:

• Paranoid - She has trust issues and believes that people are just waiting for the right moment to stab her.
• Fear of the face of the dead - Actually not all dead faces, just those she killed dishonorably.

Equipment:

• Kusarikage: Allows the user to vanish in thin air for less than a minute at a time.
• Homura: A pair of short swords said to have been forged by Masamune and enchanted by Kagu-tsuchi (god of fire). The blades are perpetually sharp. The pair also ignites and burns anything it touches. However, the enchantment will not work with just one of the blades.
• Other weapons: Shuriken, Kunai, Kusarigama, poison needles
• Others: Kanigawa (climbing tool), Inro (small medicine & poison box), charcoal pen, cotton towel, shinobi mask

Bio:
The name Aki was given to her by Suda Yoshiaki, because it was autumn when a samurai entrusted the then unnamed child to Yoshiaki. It was what the shinobi considered as his last, and most important mission for the Blade Emperor – to train a new generation of ninjas that will serve the empire.

Aki was raised in the Kawaka Mountains, a region within the territory of Asagao clan. She grew in speed and strength every day, always better than her peers and those older then her. Yoshiaki believed that she was born with a warrior’s blood in her viens and though he would not admit, he knew who her parents were.

It was also autumn, on her 15th birthday, when she was entrusted with her first mission and made her first impression to the empire. She wore a red kimono and a shinobi mask when she met with her first employer, and there was her alias born -- Kitsune or fox. Yoshiaki was proud of the daughter he raised, the ninja who had surpassed his skills at a young age. It did not take long for her to be noticed. To the upper class, those belonging to major families of the three great clans, the name Kitsune, although common throughout Kujin, had come to be synonymous to kunoichi – a female ninja.

She became a sought-after spy and assassin, a faceless and merciless fox, whose loyalty was bought by the highest bidder. That was until the Blade Emperor ordered her into his service.