“I don’t need to be nice to Diado,” Veta replied.
Eleanor smiled. “Would you want to dress us?”
“If I dressed you, you’d be wearing military bodysuits, like me,” she said, running her hand down her hip.
Eleanor scrunched up her nose. “I don’t think I would ever wear anything like that.”
Freya adjusted her robe’s collar; it was a bit less detailed than the sisters, but the same stark red of the Terran Imperial House. They all wore bold red overdresses.
All the red would be a show of strength and unity.
Except for Caoimhe, dressed in all white, with red embroidery.
Red for the Imperial House.
White for where they wanted all eyes focused.
It was all about presentation for the Terran Empire. Regal coordination between the clothing and the hair and the way they walked. It all meant something, at least to the Terrans.
Though, truly, how did one expect cyborgs to understand such things?
The few Freya had seen were nothing more than machines in humanoid frames. Giant machines that did not hesitate to kill.
Freya glanced at Veta and hoped, as the bodyguard but also one of the Terran Empire’s best assassins, that she wasn’t here with a different agenda.
Though Freya had no doubt Emperor Bron had created a covert mission for Veta as a backup plan.
Her refusal to wear an underdress only fueled Freya’s suspicions.
“You’re overdressed,” Veta said. “It is war. Our two people have been fighting forever.”
Caoimhe ran her hand over the front of her white dress again, her posture rigidly straight, the white of her dress almost blending into the whiteness of the ship's interior.
This ship almost glowed in its white and shiny white trim.
Caoimhe looked like a jewel in the center of it. She adjusted the way a sleeve hit her wrist, then stood even straighter than before and glanced at Veta.
“I will not disrespect the Rhimodians or this treaty by arriving in less than my best. It is my sign of respect for them that I put such care into my appearance, for it means I care to be here, Veta.”
“I doubt they’ll appreciate it.”
“It matters not. I am here because I want to be.” This time she did turn her head. “Are you?”
Veta nodded. “I am.”
“Good.” She looked around a bit. “Diado, if you would please.”
The servant came back, carrying a jewelry box he opened for Caoimhe.
Freya was curious about what Caoimhe had done. She tried to remember if there was some protocol she'd forgotten. The way she acted screamed protocol, and she moved like it was a ceremony.
But Freya didn't know anything about a special ceremony for Ambassador missions.
She almost leaned to Bianca to ask but paused as Diado removed a necklace with a very wide display base and placed it around Caoimhe’s neck.
Bianca gasped as the necklace shone in the light, twinkling with an inordinately large number of stones.
Freya stared at the lavish jewels, stunned by the detailing. Where had this come from? It was a very unusual piece. It had the lines of several designers she was familiar with but did not seem to match any of their styles exactly.
