Syrenrei

The Betrothed

When he admitted that he was still angry with her she deflated inwardly, her embrace slackening slightly, uncertain how he might further react. That morning she had revealed her feelings to him. It had not been a proclamation of love, but she had voiced aloud that she wanted him, had all but confessed that despite all their philosophical differences that she cared for him beyond the obligation of their engagement. Luke had accepted her. They had slept together yet he had not put a voice or name to his thoughts. Because he had chosen to withhold it made her apprehensive for she did not quite know where she stood; sometimes he acted as if they were truly in a romantic relationship while other times he seemed to barely tolerate her presence. Limbo put her ill at ease. Rhiane was acutely aware that rejection could at any moment be coldly flung at her.

What he said next perplexed her. As the crown prince spun around she tried to make sense of how she might make it difficult for him to make 'the right choices.' The former farmer stared at him, blinking and uncomprehending, wondering if it was a criticism or compliment. He did not elaborate. It was he had that had come into the women's bath nude, who had dismissed Tobias, who had wanted to play a game in which they pretended to be other people. Perhaps he was referring to the tour event earlier, yet that had been a success, and it hardly seemed she had hindered him. She was fairly confident the evening news was singing its praises of the princess elect and her ability to charm everyone she met with her dazzling smile and astute observations. The sultry brunette was still pondering his odd declaration when he pulled her closer.

Eyes opened wide as he leaned and kissed her. She melted into his arms. It was said that actions spoke louder than words, and while she still yearned for the sweetness most couples vocalized, she was thrilled at his eagerness, and how he did not hesitate in pursuing her. The gesture pushed them back a step into the warmth of the water as she ardently returned the kiss. On the best of days they might be able to hide their growing attraction to one another. Today, however, the clear liquid in which they bathed did not obscure their nude figures. It would have been impossible to hide their desires. This was one of the many justifications she gave herself for indulging in the allure of the handsome blonde that had captivated her.

Luke pulled away and she stared. At first she thought he might be trying to find an excuse to leave, but the kiss to her forehead and subsequent sentences made it evident he had no such intention. Their arrangement was odd. Among all the engagements the crown had over the decades, she doubted that any had a magnetic push and pull dynamic quite like theirs. Rhiane had thought it was only she that was more enamored with him, despite their fights, but as he spoke she realized that she was not alone. To hear him say he wanted to kiss her even when he was furious, that he didn't want her to fight his battles for him, that she had nothing to prove was profoundly moving. He was for those precious seconds not a prince.

None of her dalliances had broached an emotional attachment. It was the first time anyone had told her they didn't need or want her to 'fight their battles for them.' Both her father and brother had been dependent on her. They relied on her to confront, to negotiate, to represent them in all but the most personal matters. The entire Black family had tempers but it was always up to her to reign in the figurative beast and assume control- regardless of whether or not she wanted a reprieve. More monumental was the assertion that she had nothing to prove. The queen had contracted her to elevate them in the public image, which inherently required her to prove her worth every hour in front of a camera, every day she was attached to the monarchy, every month she was allowed to live. A few errant tears formed at the edges of her eyes as she met his gaze. He had very casually provided her with a glimpse of approval she had spent over half her life seeking.

"Luke, I..." she began, but he had seized the opportunity to kiss her again. The force of their collision sent ripples through the pool. Rhiane abandoned all her thoughts as she let herself be swept into passion. They were alone, not even a bodyguard to eavesdrop, and there was no reason to stop. Everyone expected them to fall prey to these temptations; it was even encouraged. Candidates for the contest were told they'd be lucky to have the touch of a royal, and the royals were similarly told the candidates would be aesthetically pleasing and warm their beds if nothing else. Surely Queen Camilla herself knew that binding her eldest son to his fiancee could very well lead them into trysts, something she likely preferred over the scandalous headlines the playboy made regularly if for no other reason a proper heir must be produced.

Any chance they had of leaving the spring had been dashed. She was a fire whose flames had been stoked, her vigor returned, her skin increasingly hot, and its cause having nothing to do with their surroundings. They drifted back towards the edge of the pool, towards one of the steps that offered more support than the depths alone could. Now that he had incited the tempestuous woman he'd have to satisfy her before she'd even think to leave, much less retire, because the burst of energy demanded immediate use, and she saw only him.

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

"I'm not suggesting recruiting mercenaries," Solae said slowly, still hesitant and thoughtful about the proposition she was about to make. She was acutely aware that she had an unorthodox approach and mindset. While she trusted Rene implicitly, and did not doubt either his virtue or loyalty, she knew that he would not be treading farther away from societal expectation without her lead. She did not envy the empress. Because of her position, she took on the responsibility of guiding the entire empire and must, even if she did not admit it to any of her citizens, occasionally stop and doubt her choices. The diplomat stayed her tongue for a moment. Her soldier would not follow her blindly but she wanted to quell the doubt in her heart that she was even voicing a dangerous notion.

After the prolonged pause she finally continued. "Depending on how liberally we interpret the laws, rules, and regulations for the recruitment of troops in times of war, we might be able to create a force that is... not entirely human. There are people that Duke Tan won't recruit, Rene, people that he thinks are beneath him and wouldn't lower himself to appeal to. More than two Syshin would follow us to us to escape abuse, to gain some recognition, and fight for a chance at liberty. Veterans and spies might be coaxed out of retirement. Let's also not forget that all the destruction and death he's wrought will create enemies. Those who have lost their loved ones to him will jump at an opportunity to reap revenge."

"Do you remember that sword from Lord Armon's?" she added as she stood and wandered the room, not quite pacing, but too excited at their prospects to stay still and sitting. Once they were traveling through space she'd be confined to less spacious quarters. She wanted to take advantage of this chance to stretch her legs and let her mind meander as her feet did. A superior at the embassy claimed that roaming through the building helped him think. Solae had doubted this at the time because the break room was his most frequent stop in such journeys. "It was of Kalderi make and origin. Historically they don't involve themselves with humanity, but if we can show signs of good faith for other races, we might be able to forge an alliance. At the very least it's worth trying."

"But before we can do anything we need resources... and for you to recover. Making any plans now feels slightly moot since we have limited space on the Bonaventure, we're on a world pre-disposed to working against us, one of us is severely wounded, and the other ill-equipped to handle much battle. We're a huge imposition on Ten but I'm not sure what else can be done except lay low until we find the means to leave," the duchess sighed. It was dispiriting to consider that their stature had been elevated but they were still rather helpless in the face of adversity. Not as much had changed with their respective appointments to give a tangible advantage. Titles were empty words until there were people to give them meaning. A count could be slain just as easily as a merchant during times of conflict.

"Is it too late to just decide to get married and have a couple kids?" she asked only half-joking. "I think technically we can get married now that you're a colonel and I can absolutely guarantee there's a run down shack here that lets people under the influence get married for a nominal fee. Having a couple kids might be a little more complicated, but I'd be shocked if they didn't have a workaround for that as well, for those who want to do things the old-fashioned way." It was a wistful fantasy and not reality. Normally she would not advocate for domestic bliss, but she yearned for simpler times, for when she did not go to sleep at night worrying whether or not the only person left alive she loved would succumb to his injuries. Watching Rene had been harrowing. The first day she had sat by his side but then had been chased out when it became evident she was herself worsening.

"I suppose it'd be poor form for a newly-appointed duchess to elope," Solae conceded before arriving at the bed and laying upon it. Her back was stiff from sitting at the desk for hours on end. Were she in the company of someone less incapacitated she might have felt she had a right to complain. Hiding her discomfort and turning on her side she shrugged. "What do you think we should do? You've the more tactical mind. What's the best way of extricating ourselves?"

The Betrothed

"Are you sure you were seeking approval from the right people?" Rhiane asked somewhat pointedly, though she was not trying to provoke him into another verbal war. "Some are impossible to please, and will criticize what you say and do, because they demand an unattainable perfection. There are others, though, that would give you that approval of your hard work if you only gave them the chance," she added more softly. She knew that as crown prince he felt there was always an opportunity to approve; this she understood. Never getting the gratification of validation, of praise, of appreciation could be detrimental, however, and crush him were he not careful. Silently she wondered if Queen Camilla ever lavished upon him for his accomplishments. As an outsider she had presumed that the sovereign struck the right balance between being too stern and too lenient. As of late she was not so certain that Luke was not operating in a vacuum of positive reinforcement unless it was a sycophant.

"I'm not too tired," she protested lamely as he entwined his fingers but then was overcome with evident concern. The former farmer was lying to herself more than him. The fact she hadn't even buckled herself into the vehicle before promptly falling asleep on the short ride to the mountain oasis was indicative of her depleted energy level. While the hot spring had rejuvenated her, and she was not as listless and exhausted as she had been before arriving, it did not contain magical properties. That she would succumb to slumber before him was all but inevitable. Only her stubborn desire to cling to waking hours kept her fully upright and cognizant.

Just as she was starting to piece together an argument for staying he mentioned watching a movie or the news and ordering wine. Rhiane watched his backside as he drifted away towards the shallow end of the pool in confusion. This interlude of peace and flirting had been a welcome departure from their bickering. She had enjoyed it for what it was, a distraction from all their trials and tribulations, but she hadn't allowed herself to expect that it would impact his feelings about her on a whole. She was still a commoner that had insisted on dressing in peasant clothing, who had refused his plea to wear her designer dress with his coat, who had boldly defied her instructions for how to behave with the public. The event had been a great success. That did not mean, however, he forgave her for her perceived transgressions, and she did not bank on time smoothing over his frustrations.

After a few moments of hesitation she followed behind him, but rather than reaching for her garment, she wound her arms around his midsection. She was not trying to seduce him- though if he was she would not have been upset- but rather than she was seeking some manner of reassurance through physical contact. "You're not still mad at me for the tour?" she ventured. It was a sore topic she knew. Her voice faltered slightly, the late hour and toll of the day making her emotions more exposed, making her words more sincerely vulnerable than they might be otherwise. "I knew it made you angry, but I wanted to do my best, to succeed so that everyone could see how well I could do," she murmured. "I wanted to prove myself."

Rhiane paused. No matter how compromised she was from everything that had occurred, she was still reluctant to solicit an opinion from Luke. Most of the times he was thoughtful and considerate it was not on account of her feelings. Asking him for an objective assessment of her performance was an invitation for another prejudiced blow. Earlier he had not let their intimacy inhibit him from disclosing how mentally inferior he found the lower class to be. There was no guarantee he'd be kinder now than he had then. Before she knew what she was doing she spoke again, her lips brushing against his skin as she tightened her hold. "Will you really stay with me when I sleep?"

She was too proud to admit it, but she was afraid to be alone. Lia and Octavia were fine bodyguards. They would protect her from external threats she had no doubt. Neither woman would hold her when a nightmare struck, or soothe away her anxiety, or understand how terrified she had been when she had seen someone die right before her eyes. Luke came from the same world as the noblewomen did, as did Tobias, but neither was as formal and distant as her female retinue. The thought of relying upon them to rouse her from haunting memories and to watch over her as she tried to rest was more than mildly uncomfortable. In a few weeks or months she might trust them more with her heart, but she did not know, and would almost rather brave the horrors of isolation than their judgmental company.

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.