by Blaze Ward
That was one of the most important reasons Casey wanted to do this, to have this very special, very private mother-daughter time.
What did Casey want?
She had almost blurted any of a half-dozen answers, before her teeth slammed shut hard enough to rattle her skull. All of them would be accurate, within some manner of context.
None of them would be true.
Mother wanted the truth.
Dare she?
Secrets whispered to herself in the dead of night, or to her grandmother’s ancient stuffed bear on her shelf?
Certainly, her sister Steffi had never been one for dreams. Steffi was practical. Content.
Limited.
But Mother knew that. Knew that the rare screaming matches between sisters came from being earth and sky. Water and fire. Mostly, they stayed as far away from one another emotionally as they could, like poles on a powerful magnet.
It usually worked.
What did Casey want?
To dream.
She could not fly. Even Father would not allow that level of freedom, nor would Ekke, unless she wanted to become ostracized from the entire family.
No, never that.
Casey felt her face grow hard. Fierce. Sharp.
It reminded her of the look she would occasionally see on the face of the other woman in the mirror. Mother saw it as well, but kept her silence.
“One of these days, you are going to find a man,” Casey finally growled in a low tone. “Father will. Or Uncle Em. Perhaps even you. It doesn’t matter.”
Casey released a breath into the fragile air, expecting rime frost to coat the glass.
“The adults will achieve consensus that he is good enough.”
Mother flinched under the tone, just the slightest. Anyone else would have missed it, but they weren’t holding the Empress by her hair to feel those nerves fire, possibly in shame.
“I will be presented with a fait accompli,” Casey continued, implacable. An avalanche brooking no interference. “Perhaps he will even be good enough. We will see. But good enough still means a corset for me. I will still have the appearance of freedom, but will be bound invisibly. Perhaps he will understand. Perhaps not. It is the way things are. The way Fribourg is.”
Casey took a deep breath, suddenly chilled air slashing her lungs as her nostrils flared.
“What does Casey want?” Casey continued, casting her words to the Gods themselves. “I want what will be.”
“And what is that?” Mother asked quietly.
“Thuringwell,” Casey pronounced grimly.
Again the shudder. Stronger this time. Noticeable by Ladies in Waiting, and other strangers, were there any to bear witness to the sight.
Of all the people in the Imperial Palace, only Mother was armed to understand those implications. Perhaps Uncle Em would, as well, but he was a man, and thus unequipped for the circumstances.
The Empress, Kasimira Ekaterina, of the House of Alkaev, understood. Or understood her youngest daughter, at least well enough.
“That will be a lonely road, Casey,” she whispered.
“You didn’t ask me what I would settle for, Mother,” Casey whispered back, leaning forward to kiss her mother on the top of the head as the tears threatened to blind her. “You asked what I wanted. I want to be free. But that will never happen. Not for a Princess Imperial. I will settle for being equal. Anything less than that is not good enough.”
Casey tied off the end of the braid before the tears in her eyes got so thick she was blind. Not that it mattered. She could have handled this task in the dark, muscle memory driving her fingers.
Mother reached back a hand to hold one of Casey’s as she finished.
Thuringwell had been conquered by a woman. Jessica Keller had shown her that it was possible.
Now Casey just had to conquer the Fribourg Empire.
CHAPTER XXIV
DATE OF THE REPUBLIC OCTOBER 2, 398 WERDER, ST. LEGIER
Moirrey looked at herself in the mirror, mirrors even, and let all the giggles take over the whole room.
The good folks had put Lady Keller, Wildgraf Keller even, inta a small palace not all that fer from the bigger Imperial version. But it were decorated by men. Fer men.
Desianna had took one look at the place and had the servants that come with the place strip ever’tin’ out of one second-floor sitting room and turn it into a dressing studio. Then comfie sofas had been rounded up from elsewheres and put along the walls, competin’ fer space wit’ trunks o’all sizes.
And the big triple mirror that were dead center, dominatin’ the volume like that stupid suit of armor had dun befer.
It were Moirrey’s room now. At least fer todays.
It were her day.
Staring back at her from th’mirror were a vision of utter lovely. It even had a color. 0A3200, the dark green of summer leaves in the deep woods back home on Ramsey. When she were just a kitten.
Ankle-length silk formed an evening gown with eggplant trim and matching leather belt. Jes’nuff onta the shoulders to draw attention to the low-cut bodice that showeded off her barely-there boobs and not-much cleavage, but did it in a way that even the Emperer might be staring down her front, stealing a peek.
’Cause she could.
And Desianna had approved. Helped, even. Nick in a bit here, loose a dash there. Add some more color in ways that maybe focused th’eye, an’ maybe distracted.
Around her neck were a platinum chain Lady Keller had gotten her fer her commissioning, once they all gots back home. Digger’d added the cherry ruby in a white gold setting hanging from it.
Moirrey’d even let her normally-curly, jet black hair gets a bit too long on the flight out here, on Desianna’s say-so. Now it were pulled down into a platinum binder thingee, asymmetrical and around the left side o’her neck.
And to out-ladylike the Imperial ladies, opera gloves in light dove gray with a charm bracelet she’d got in junior high around her left wrist, filled with all sorts of special things she’d accumulated.
Moirrey stared at this apparition in the mirror and giggled. And giggled. All that were missing were a tube of glitter, blasted into the air and left to gravity to paint with.
She had considered it.
More’n once.
“I take it you find the ensemble acceptable?” Desianna snorted from close behind, barely audible o’er the ongoing giggles.
Even in Moirrey’s heels, Desianna were a head taller, but the woman were done up in her Court Robes tonight.
Staid. Respectable.
BORING.
But also completely unlikely to outshine Moirrey on her special night.
Like that were an option, lady.
“A-yup,” Moirrey chirped. “Is good.”
Moirrey glanced at the other faces behind her.
Her sister nodded approvingly. Marcelle jes beamed.
Willow had a cross look. Moirrey felt serious threaten to break out everywhere.
Willow could be like that, at times.
She watched her sister’s bodyguard suddenly pivot and cross to one of the tables, fishing aroun’ fer sometin that she finally found an’ brought over to the mirror.
Moirrey felt her nose scrunch up and her eyes go kinda sideways as Willow grinned at her.
“Not quite,” Ms. Dolan smiled as she got close.
Moirrey watched the girl hold up a hair pin, and then stick it into the knot on the left side of her head.
Willow stepped back and Moirrey considered the result.
It weren’t her favorite hairpin, the one what looked like a Daisy flower in high summer. This one were a silver rose, a bit larger than a 2-Lev coin, with a bit of thorned stem curling down to help stabilize it.
“Yes,” Willow said. “That was what you were missing.”
Moirrey turned her head to see the result in all three mirrors.
Fer a bodyguard, Willow were pretty good at this. It were what she were missing. Even Desianna nodded
.
A knock at the door interrupted further commentary.
Marcelle went and let Captain Baumgärtner in.
He were dressed to the nines tonight, both as host and escort to this shindig, all formal in navy blue and gold trim, sword and purse.
He walked close and started to say something, and broke his brain.
Er, at least his jaw. It were on the floor, along with his tongue. Moirrey’d’a said his manners, too, but he recovered them pretty quick.
There were only a few sputters. And a bit of blushing. And a few giggles from around him. Which made the blushing worse.
Not like he dinna deserve it.
He made up fer it with a bow all the way to horizontal a’fore he come to parade rest.
“Madame Kermode, Lady Moirrey,” he said in a suddenly dry voice. “You are absolutely stunning. You will leave every man there tonight speechless and every woman jealous.”
At least he knowed how to charm a girl right.
Moirrey grinned up at him.
“Good evening, Captain Baumgärtner,” she said warmly. “Are we ready?”
He responded by pivoting around his left foot and holding out his right elbow fer her to grasp.
“Ladies,” he said to the rest of the folks. “If you would accompany us. Transport to the Palace awaits downstairs.”
Moirrey glanced back once and let one final fit o’giggles out.
Time to go impress an Emperer.
And maybe let him look down her front.
CHAPTER XXV
DATE OF THE REPUBLIC OCTOBER 2, 398 IMPERIAL PALACE, WERDER, ST. LEGIER
Moirrey were pretty sure Ma woulda swatted her on the bum at least once with a wooden spoon fer the thoughts chasing each other ’round ’n’her head like silly squirrels.
She’d hadta go all sneaky-like, but she had found the man who were such a shit to her at Vo’s party.
Not that he’d done nothin’. Nor said nothin’.
Nope, he were just bad ju-ju, staring at her fr’m o’er there.
Admiral of the White Sigmund Dittmar. Duke of somethin’-er-tother. Imperial Cousin, his Da bein’ the younger brother of the Emperer’s Da.
Nasty, cruel-looking man.
It were wrong to hope he were somewhere else t’night. Ma’d’a no’ approved that. But the swat would be fer the serene smile Moirrey were planning ta gives hims if’n he were.
Ya dinna argue with bullies. Ya don’t fights ’em. Ya laughs at ’em. Public-like. Imperial Reception public-like.
Not necessarily proper. But Ma weren’t abouts with a wooden spoon to learn her no better.
Captain Baumgärtner were much nicer ta be ’rounds, but he were the Red Admiral’s man, so that were expected. An’ he had at least one daughter rough’ her age, from what Jessica had said, so he were extra-protective as a host.
Not that he could do much about such an important feller as Admiral White, but she could always whisper things to the Captain, sure it’d get back to meaner folks. The Red Admiral, fer sure.
Right now, they was just coming outs the elevator at the Imperial Palace, girls in long dresses not bein’ ’spected to walk up flights of stairs without face-plantin’ along the ways.
Thems prolly would.
Everyone else had gone ahead, leaving her with her date fer the night, the good Captain looking all distinguished ’n’stuff.
He glanced over as they made their way down the long, empty hallway, footsteps muffled on the heavy, patterned red carpet.
“It will be similar to Colonel Arlo’s Investiture, madam,” he said quietly. “With a few changes suggested by Princess Kasimira, based apparently on her personal research. The audience will also be significantly different, this being an entirely civilian affair.”
“Very good, Captain,” Moirrey cooed, barely able to control the giggles that wanted to break out and paint th’very walls’o’th’place.
If he weren’t standing next ta her fer scale, she’d’a been sure she were three meters tall right now. Maybe he growed with her?
And now, the door. Double-wide. Peaked arch. Open. Human scale, so she must’a nots growed, after alls.
Too bad.
Moirrey felt the Captain take a deep breath, so she did, too.
Ya never knows.
Inside, that same red carpet, to those same steps. Even the same Emperer at the top, with that big, gnarly, old sword in one hand. He even looked like the Red Admiral had, four years ago.
And the 189th were here, all fancied up.
I mean, if you gots a platoon of showmen in snazzy uniforms, best to use ’em, right?
Big difference were the two fine ladies on the platform with Karl. Tall, willowy, blond girl on his right. Redhead with a solid build on his left. Not chunky, but nowhere near as ethereal as the blond. Not smiling near as warm as the blond, neither, though not as grouchy as Admiral White.
Princess Kasimira Helena. Princess Ekaterina Stephanya.
Casey and Steffi, according to public love fer the two young ladies ’round heres.
At least Casey were competin’ with her fer smile.
“Your Imperial Majesty, Princesses Imperial, Ladies and Gentlemen of the Court, I present you Moirrey Kermode,” Captain Baumgärtner said grandly as the 189th snapped to attention at her appearance.
How did they all do that, without nobody saying nothing?
She let the Captain lead her into the room and for’rd to the steps.
Moirrey had to give the man credit. He were all set to help her kneel on the riser, like she were some helpless fool that decided to wear a hobble skirt, or sometin’. Obviously, never dealt with engineers. An’ never had to climb down into an engine well backwards with a welding laser and a camera to fix something.
Step, step, down. Easy as that. Even in heels.
Moirrey smiled up at the giant man above her. Maybe she flexed her shoulders forward, just a bit. Enticing-like, ya know?
He smiled back, like maybe he were in on it. Which just made it all the better.
Dude hefted that blade like it were a conductor’s wand in one easy hand. Reached for’rd and tapped her lights on her left, on the fabric part of the shoulder of the dress, rather than skin.
Betcha that blade would be awful cold right now.
O’er her head and tap the right. Back over and left. Then down to his side like a meter-long letter opener.
Dude had muscles.
“I proclaim you Moirrey zu Kermode, Ritter of the Imperial Household,” Emperor Karl VII boomed out over the room. “Arise, Lady Moirrey, and be presented to this Court.”
Only thing maybe topped this were getting commissioned in front of the whole squadron, just ’fore the Ballard-run. But that were all her friends. This were just a few of ’em: her sister, Vo, Marcelle, Willow. Desianna were a great lady’n’all, but she were Jessica’s best friend. And kinda a stranger-person, although the flight in had helped.
No Digger. No Jackson Tawfeek. No Oz.
Not quite as good.
Still pretty damned awesome.
The Captain were there with an arm and all his strength, just in case she needed it. Moirrey smiled and kipped backwards onto her feet in a single motion.
Engineers and tight spaces, ya know?
She did take the Captain’s arm and let him be all official and stuff.
The Emperer smiled something wicked.
Maybe he had been peekin’.
“Princess Kasimira,” he said in a big voice. “Your charge awaits.”
Moirrey held her breath as the blond girl turned and picked up a bolt of rich silk, almost as dark as homemade currant jam, edged in white. Same color Emperer-dude were wearing. And Vo.
The Princess stepped down and unrolled the cloak, placing it around Moirrey’s shoulders. It helped that the Princess were as tall as Desianna.
Two gold-colored ropes appeared and fell down her chest, ’tween her boobs. Moirrey grabbed them and quick-tied ’em into the same knot the one gu
y’d done to Vo.
Princess Casey stepped ’round front and checked the tie, then kissed Moirrey on both cheeks, makin’ her blush fit to her roots. But it was okay. Casey were smiling almost as big as she were. Maybe as much as Jessica were.
The Princess silently took her place again on the rise, next to her Da.
The Emperer nodded at them with a smile almost as big hisself. Captain Baumgärtner turned her softly in place by stepping around her.
Moirrey got her first look at the rest of the room.
“Ladies and Gentlemen of the Court,” he called. “Moirrey zu Kermode, Imperial Ritter.”
The applause were way more raucous than Vo’s’d been. But the crowd were also better than half female. Way better than half. And way younger. Moirrey’s age, rather than Captain Baumgärtner’s. Only a handful of uniforms and them folks she mostly knowed. Cap’n B. The Red Admiral. Captain Wald from the other night. Couple of others, lookin’ friendlies.
Lotsa girls in frilly and dressy, but most of them young.
Kinda sorta silly.
Moirrey wondered if this were the Princess’s work.
If so, jes what did that imply?
CHAPTER XXVI
DAY: 277 OF THE COMMON ERA YEAR: 13,445 VESSEL - RS:32G8Y42 – “DANCER IN DARKNESS.” FRIBOURG IMPERIAL SPACE. STATUS: SHADOWED
It was one star in a wall of unremarkable siblings. Nothing about it suggested why the Lord of Winter considered it so dangerous.
Warm and yellow. Reminiscent more of Winterhome’s sun than what he had known on Korsakov as a boy. But for the importance of his mission, nothing that would excite any attention to a passing starship.
His mission would deem that assessment otherwise shortly.
Ro Kenzo Atep Vrin meditated in his small, darkened chamber, comfortable in two decadent tatami of padded space, eyes open and studying the single screen on the wall before him. So far he had traveled from his home. So much time saved by walking the road of bonfires lit by the Survey Corps, that he could have the luxury of another forty days to lie in wait.
Another cold stone in the darkness.
Any other vessel would have taken fifteen to eighteen more days to make this historic journey, even with the path cut ahead of time. Well within time to achieve the mission, but far less than efficient.
