“You just said the Emperor is unwilling to help us,” Boleslaw reminded me.
“True, but she is not the only faction in play,” I said. “What about Yezhidia?”
“Yezhidia’s a minor nation,” Prince Aureli said, his voice thick with contempt.
“Yezhidiawasa minor nation. Now, it’s a major regional power. They more than doubled their territory in the war, and their soldiers are tough, disciplined, and well-equipped.”
“Why would Yezhidia help us, their enemies?” the prince asked, but Boleslaw stroked her jawline.
“If what Captain Boylan says is true, Yezhidia will share a border with the Federation. With the Despotate and the League dissolved, Yezhidia would likely be the Federation’s next most appetizing neighbor.”
“Won’t the Empire defend Yezhidia?” the prince asked. Both he and Boleslaw turned to me.
“Possibly,” I replied. “If the Federation attacks militarily, yes, but if they slowly establish economic hegemony, I doubt the Empire will care until it’s too late.”
A thought came to me. “We might not count the Empire out entirely.”
“How so?” Boleslaw asked.
“There are factions in the Emperor’s court. Some are more… sensible than others,” I said. “As Consort, I have access to the princes at court. I can speak to them. If I can convincethem that a strengthened Federation would upset the balance of power on their border, they might intercede on our behalf with the Emperor. I doubt we can save the Despotate, but we might save our Fallspace colonies and frontier territories if the demons realize a pair of competing powers benefits the Empire more than a single superpower at their gates.”
“What do you need from us?” Boleslaw asked.
“Your permission to try,” I answered.
The prince stood. “I never liked you, Boylan, and I still think you are too inexperienced to trust with a mission of such grave importance, but it seems we have little choice. If you save our nation, I will be forever in your debt.”
“Whatever we can do to help, we will,” Boleslaw promised.
“Finding out whether d’Lyre’s information is real or not is the best thing you can do right now. Meanwhile, I need a fresh outfit. I’ve got some diplomacy to do.” I bowed and was dismissed.
Wiktor was waiting for me in my room, professional as always. “Good morning, Captain. Your shower is prepared, and I’ve taken the liberty of laying out a day uniform I think will serve nicely.”
I stripped off my rumpled uniform and looked at the flying leathers, thick gloves, and long scarf he had ready for me. “A little informal, don’t you think?”
“The day’s entertainment involves a terrain race around the mountain’s base,” Wiktor explained. “I thought a more utilitarian outfit would suit your skills on a hoversteed better than a courtly tunic.”
“Regardless, please prepare my dress greens,” I ordered.
Wiktor paused, nonplussed by my request for my most formal uniform. “But, Captain, won’t you be cold?”
“I doubt it, since I won’t be racing,” I replied, examining my shirt cuffs, wishing I owned better cufflinks.
“The Emperor will be most displeased, sir,” Wiktor said, still holding my leather flying jacket.
“The Emperor will have to learn to live with disappointment. I have other things to attend to today,” I said snappishly. “Now, are you going to get my parade uniform, or will I have to call for another manservant?”
“Of course, sir,” Wiktor replied with a hint of reproach. I found I didn’t care. I had bigger things to worry about.
“And have my white tie evening dress ready for dinner,” I ordered. If things went well, everything would culminate this evening, and if things did not go well, then at least I would die well-dressed.
I had chosen formalwear to make a statement, and my message was not lost on the assembled notables. The racers were obvious in their thick flying leathers, and those not inclined to race wore undress day uniforms. I was the only person in formal parade dress.
Archduke Darius laughed when he saw me. “Good heavens, what are you wearing?”
“Do you like it? I felt like looking pretty today,” I said flirtatiously, then I hooked my arm around his and walked, forcefully directing him towards a private side room.
“I know I may dance the female side of the ball, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to propose,” the archduke chided me, but his eyes were serious above his amused smile as he silently asked me for an explanation.
