> I should have been able to tell, then. I should have seen it in how my brothers reacted. I should have noticed the signs, but I was blind. Arrogant. We had been taught we were the apex Predators, second in might only to the vaunted Paladins of Terra themselves. We had been taught to hold pride in our supremacy. What fools we were. We had mistaken a lion for a lamb, and none of us had any idea what it was that we welcomed into our midst.

Twenty minutes later, after a process of introductions and explanation of circumstance which proceeded with surprising levels of cordiality; Arthur was led to an office possessed of only sparse decoration. The room was adorned across the middle with a large circular rug in the spartan crimson of the Ascendancy Royal Navy, while white walls hung with various banners denoting different subdivisions of the Navy framed the interior.

Photos sat upright upon the desk at the far end of the room, and a high-back executive chair took pride of place behind it. One which served as the makeshift throne for an irrefutably beautiful Graecian woman.

She was dressed in the uniform of the Ascendancy Royal Navy, with a crimson overcoat buttoned in gold on the right side of her body, black coloring over her shoulders and upper arms, and two golden stars of rank decorating each of those same dark patches on her uniform. The black material of her high collar, reaching midway up her throat, bore the same two stars in paired formation.

Her black hair was tied back into a professional bun, with streaks of silver rising from her temples toward the tied mass of midnight above. Her eyes were a stormy gray, and even at what Arthur estimated to be middle age—around one hundred or so years old—she had the look of a woman that both genders would walk into inanimate objects admiring.

The amount of duty tabs on her jacket, overshadowed only by the golden Graecian eagle above, was enough of a point of emphasis to warn Arthur into respectful silence.

A single black beauty spot sat on the left side of her face, above her full lips, and when she appraised him he was reminded of nothing so much as a she-wolf observing a potential conquest.

And not in a fun way.

“Have a seat, Kyrio Magellan.” the woman said in a tone that was one half invitation, and one half command.

Arthur took note of the formal use of address and filed it away while he complied with her order and settled into the provided chair opposite her. Endymion and Perseus, having accompanied him in the room, took up deceptively casual positions on either side of the door.

He appreciated the gesture, for all that it was purely that.

“I am Yponávarchos Cassandra Leos. Asfalís’ defense is my responsibility, in addition to the normal requirements of an Ascendancy Flag Officer.” the woman Perseus had called the ‘Lion Duchess’ said in accented English.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Somehow, even her voice managed to sound beautiful. A mix between a purr and caress.

‘Lion Duchess’ indeed.

Cassandra leaned forward when she spoke and braced her elbows on her desk, bridging her fingers together and narrowing her eyes at Arthur above them. “Which brings me to you, Kyrio Magellan. Based on the reports supplied by Kidemónes Chloros and Andino, paired with the travel receipts provided by the Enterprising Fortune; you are what you seem to be—and that is precisely where my interest lies.”

“You’re looking for an Eidolon pilot.” Arthur guessed with a shrewd assessment of the Rear Admiral. “One that isn’t a native.”

“Quite so.” Cassandra confirmed with approval. “You arrive on our proverbial doorstep, fully prepared with the skills and knowledge we need moving into this period of heightened tension within the cluster, and seemingly absent any complicating fealties or associations that would pose an impediment to our ability to hire you.”

“Which is a little too convenient.” Arthur guessed.

“Which is much too convenient.” Cassandra clarified. “There are only three possibilities here, Kyrio Magellan. Either you are exactly whom you say you are, in which case we of the Ascendancy would be thrilled to put you to work—something I intend to see done personally, if such is the case… or you are an agent, sleeper or otherwise, sent by Parthia to infiltrate and sabotage or frustrate our most critical military infrastructure. The final option… Well, I don’t wish to be rude, but…”

“You’re wondering if I’m a fugitive.” Arthur surmised.

“Or a runaway Lord.” Cassandra said with a discerning gaze.

Arthur opened his mouth to respond, and then winced. A small throb had spiked in his head abruptly, and he reached up to massage it.

“Is everything alright?” The Rear Admiral asked carefully.

“Yes. Sorry.” Arthur said politely. “Mild headache. I think it’s just the result of two months of deep sleep.”

“Ah. Not a fan of long travels?”

“Not really, no.” Arthur admitted without embarrassment.

“I can relate. I despise long journeys.”

Arthur took a breath and pushed on. “So what I’m hearing is that you need to, for your own sake, make sure I’m neither a liability nor a foreign asset.”

“That is correct.” Cassandra said.

“Though, that assumes I even want to work for you.” Arthur said mildly. “Which, with all respect to you, I have no idea of yet. My only experience with you has been Endymion’s insistence on coming to see you.”

“Ah.” Cassandra said with a small smile. “He didn’t tell you about my family?”

“No.” Arthur said with a shake of the head, and another mild grimace at the lance of pain through his head that followed. “But the fact that Endymion, who I’ve learned in my short time with him is the most surly Kidemónas alive, wanted me to meet you says you’re someone important—not just to the Ascendancy, but to its people as well.”

“You’ve a mind touched by Athena herself.” Cassandra said wryly.