The Emperor had nothing to say in response. She merely sipped her brandy in silence, staring at me.
“I must be honest,” I said, breaking the silence, “I did not expect to receive a private audience, especially not one so late.”
The Emperor hardly moved a muscle in expression. “There are so many people I wish to speak with. If I am to fit them all in, I must make room somewhere in my busy schedule.”
“Ah,” I replied, then asked, “but why speak with someone as lowly ranked as myself?”
The Emperor placed her brandy glass on the table. “The extremes of any situation are often the most interesting. Of all the attendees at my twelve-year jubilee, excepting servants, you are the lowest ranked, in military, noble, or social connotations. I’ve already spoken with the highest-ranked individuals here. I am interested to know how the lower ranks find my party.”
“I apologize for my lack of social advancement,” I said on reflex.
“Not at all, Captain. I merely expected an ambitious veteran of the pre-war army to have advanced further, if purely from survival bias alone.”
I grimaced. I’d been ambitious once, with grand ideas of a political career after a glorious stint in the military. “I’m afraid the supply corps is a poor place to advance one’s prospects.”
“Do explain,” the Emperor commanded.
My mouth ran away from me. “Too many generals and marshals blame their defeats on a lack of supplies, claiming a dearth of ground shuttles or pyromagnetic shells doomed their offensives, not their poor tactics or foolish decisions.”
The Emperor’s eyes hardened. “Surely your government did not believe such lies?”
I gulped, considering my next words carefully. “I was acquitted every time, but it still affected my advancement. The army can’t promote a man with so many marks against his record when there are perfectly unblemished officers available.”
“I see,” the Emperor replied, then gently placed her cordial glass on the table. “So how do you find my soiree? Does it fulfill your every expectation?”
She changed the subject so rapidly that my reply slipped out more petulantly than I meant. “And that’s the only reasonyou brought me here?” I asked, a hint of yearning in my voice, a starship’s pleading in my heart.
The Emperor raised one perfect golden eyebrow. “What other purpose could I possibly have?”
And there it was. I shuddered slightly, then downed my brandy in a single gulp and stood. “Your party is delightful. I look forward to the coming festivities. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must return to my national delegation. They will wonder where I went.”
The Emperor gazed impassively at me, yet her eyes burned with intensity. I wondered if she would order me to stay, but she waved a hand dismissively. “Very well. Take Captain Boylan back to his quarters.”
She stood as I left. The last I saw of her that evening was her walking deeper into her private suite.
HORSEPLAY
THE NEXT MORNING,I ate my breakfast utilizing a skill I’d honed over a decade of warfare and sixteen years of education before that. I was paying attention to my own thoughts, but tuned in to the discussion around me enough to be able to repeat what was said during the previous moments. The Royal Commonwealth notables were discussing the day’s activities, some silly tournament of arms, dinner, and a theatrical production. I could not care less. My mind was on Astrid—no, the Emperor, and how she’d treated me the night before.
What the Fall was that? I thought I’d broken through to the Astrid I’d known on the dance floor. She’d shown her old self to me in public, but then when she brought me to her private chambers for a personal rendezvous, she acted formal. Frigid, even. I knew it was twelve years ago, but my heart still yearned for hers. I’d had relations, sure, but nothing that could seriously replace the romance we’d shared. I’d been open with her in a way I had never been with anyone else before or since. Everyone else had wanted a version of me – a cavalry officer,a supply depot manager, a decent marriage prospect and future father, but never fully Levar. Only Astrid had wanted the real me. Perhaps as Emperor, she had plenty of suitors willing to love her the way I had. Perhaps the war had not hit her as hard as it had hit me.
It was my selective listening skill which saved me when the Duke of Lynwyzc said my name.
“Yes, sir? Your Highness?” I asked, snapping out of my reverie.
“I’ve signed you up for the joust. You’re a combat soldier, and your hoversteed should work fine in mock combat.”
I rewound the conversation in my mind. Yes, there was a tournament of arms, and much like the race the day before, there were multiple events. Sharpshooting, fencing, and mounted combat.
“Your Highness, I would like to remind you I am not a frontline soldier. I’m a supply officer. My experience is limited at best…”
“Were you not on the Royal Colonial Academy’s tournament team?” Boleslaw asked.
I coughed. “I spent more of my school days playing battle-ball. Besides, that was years ago. I’m sorely out of practice.”
“Didn’t you kill two demon princes with a greatsword?” Boleslaw said, cutting me off. “Your file has two confirmed kills with several more suspect. That hardly seems out of practice to me.”
I could feel my face flushing. “When one is attacked, one does what one must.”
