I wondered if she felt as isolated as I did.
The soup arrived, a thick green liquid in a shallow bowl. I was momentarily happy for a distraction from the monotony of secondhand conversational chatter until I looked at the silverware before me. My heart fell further. I’d known all of these spoons once, back when I was an Academy cadet, but that had been twelve years ago. For the last decade, I’d dined on military rations with cheap campaign utensils.
As I stared at a half-dozen spoons of various sizes, trying to remember which was the soup spoon versus the table spoon, there was a tiny, polite nudge against my right arm.
I had paid little attention when the person to my right sat down, aside from recognizing her old-fashioned gown of League court dress. Now, I saw her copper skin, brown-black hair, warm brown eyes, and demure smile. Meaningfully, she placed her right hand on a spoon with an almost circular bowl. I grabbed the identical spoon set before me, and she nodded, then lifted a spoonful of soup to her mouth.
“Thank you,” I said under my breath. “It’s been a while since I’ve attended a court function.”
“I’m afraid it’s about all I’ve attended these last ten years,” the woman replied, her voice soft, her face slightly concerned, as though I would judge her harshly.
“You’ve probably had more impact on the war than I. You diplomats keep the Alliance together. Without Allied troops, we would have lost this war years ago.”
“You’re too kind,” she replied, blushing.
“Not at all.” I bowed in my chair towards her. “Captain Levar Boylan, at your service.”
She gave me her hand, and I took it, gently brushing my lips against her knuckles. “Princess Marie-Christina of Stelsylvania.”
I pored through my memories. “Stelsylvania. I fought alongside your soldiers, about four years back on New Danube. They’re good. Tough. Know what they’re doing.”
“Thank you, Captain. It’s good to know my countrymen are respected by our allies.” She fell into silence, and I could tell something was going unsaid which I was expected to intuit, but I was unaccustomed to these sorts of conversations. The only thing I could think of was Marie, a princess of a sovereign nation, felt insulted being seated next to such a low-ranking Commonwealth diplomat.
“I’m sorry you must sit next to a lowly sky captain,” I said, trying to correct my nation’s faux pas.
Princess Marie graciously inclined her head. “It is not your fault. The Imperials seated everyone with their national compatriots. Usually, we would be mixed among each other, to facilitate intercourse.”
I choked on my bite of food, then quickly recovered. “Your Commonwealth Basic is excellent, but I think that word may mean something different than what you meant.”
“Does it not mean conversation, or discussion?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “But it also has additional connotations.”
I decided to change the subject. “So did you receive an invitation to this particular party?”
“It seems everyone did.”
“I didn’t. I was chosen as part of Prince Aureli’s retinue.”
“Well, your nation has more power than mine. I came to ensure Stelsylvania is not forgotten.”
“You’re one of our most steadfast allies. I certainly haven’t forgotten about you.”
“That’s kind of you, but now that the League is essentially dissolved…”
“It is?” I asked, honestly perplexed.
“Yes. Look across the table. Archduke Darius sided with the Empire before the war started. His betrayal allowed the Empire to invade the League from within. And of the League allies, how many representatives here still have a nation, as opposed to a defunct government-in-exile?” I looked around at the long parallel tables, but I could not tell one League diplomat from another. Instead, I visualized something more familiar: the star map of the battlefront.
A distressing amount of the image was tinged enemy red. Most of the League was occupied, save a few multicolored spots here and there near Fallspace or the Commonwealth. Nearly all Urgan Despotate worlds were captured, save a sliver of stars bordering the Commonwealth in the Silesia sector. Imperial forces occupied a good quarter of the Commonwealth’s stars, less-populated systems near the former League frontier, but the loss of resources and manpower hampered the Royal war machine. The Empire even occupied some Noble Federation star systems, although Federation losses were minimal, having entered the war late. As I mentally ticked off star systems lost to the Empire, I realized the princess was correct. Of thescores of independent nations which had made up the League, fewer than half a dozen still held any habitable worlds. The largest of those was Stelsylvania, which stubbornly clung to a cluster of star systems near the corner of Fallspace and the Commonwealth frontier.
“But enough of such depressing talk,” Marie said, interrupting my maudlin thoughts. “Tell me more of yourself and why you were chosen to assist Prince Aureli.”
Boleslaw’s warning flashed in my mind, so I decided to keep quiet about my former relationship with the Emperor. “There’s not much to tell. My parents were landowners. I was sent to a military academy to make my future, graduated in the cavalry, but before I could serve my seven years and retire to take over the family estate, the war started, and I’ve been fighting ever since. I’m afraid I’ll be a very boring dinner companion compared to a princess.”
Princess Marie gave a shy smile. “Being a princess is not so exciting. After so many years, one court function feels like another. But no one is boring, no matter what you say. Why did you join the cavalry? Dreams of being a dashing hero?”
That was an easy question to answer. “No, it was the hoversteeds. I practically grew up riding them. I knew, even in a war zone, I would rather be mounted than fight on foot or fly a ground shuttle. Do you ride?”
