The State Garden in Kanissi was where the Khans palace was located, it being the capital of The Kingdom. While the garden was theoretically open to all the citizens of the Kingdom, in reality, all five hundred acres were the private domain of Princess Jirril Di Rappar, along with such friends as she allowed to enter the garden with her.

At this, the eleventh period of this fine spring day, the princess was alone, the companion slave didn’t count. As she wandered through the garden, none of the beauty or fragrance of the gardens entered her consciousness. Besides sensing that there was turmoil in the palace, she was also aware of urgent comings and goings that had taken place over the last several days, so she felt a vague uneasiness. Both her father, The Khan, Kamel Di Rappar, and her brother, Crown Prince Katta Di Rappar, had been in meetings with his advisors for what seemed the past week. While she knew that there was a plan to invade another galaxy, she had not bothered to pay any attention to the details, anyway her father had not considered it necessary for her to do so. Such crude happenings were beneath her. But she was still uneasy and wanted to be alone. Princess Jirril had no worries that someone would accost her in the garden, she knew that it was well protected both day and night.

The garden was silent except for the buzz of insects and the leaves rustling in the gentle breeze. Ignoring the sounds, Jirril wandered towards a part of the garden where there was a rotunda, Hono, her slave companion keeping a respectful two paces behind her. A tall girl for the Kingdom, Jirril was close to one point seven metres tall. Striking looks were complimented by her glowing long, brown hair, combed and brushed by slaves every morning and evening, and the cream coloured dress of a fragile semi-transparent silk like material, that high-lighted the athletic slimness of her body. Over her dress, which was backless and had slits up the sides, emphasizing her long legs, the feet of which were graced with sandals, she wore a shawl to cover her exposed shoulders

Reaching the rotunda, Jirril took her favoured place in the corner of a couch, where she could stretch out and relax out of the sun. Gathering her long dress around her legs, she laid back on the tall cushion. Closing her eyes, she prepared to doze as Hono, dressed in a modest shift of somewhat better quality then what most slaves would wear, knelt before her. Before she could fully relax, Hono alerted her to an intrusion.

“Mistress, the Prince.”

Jirril’s eyes snapped open. Her legs swung of the couch onto the floor of the rotunda and she rose to her feet. Looking down the central pathway, Jirril saw her brother approaching with a squad of palace guards.

*********

Crown Prince Katta was unhappy with the assignment his father had given him, as the scowl on his face showed. For two reasons, the first being that he considered the job of fetching his sister to their father was below his status. The second was that it involved his sister, who he disliked. Other than the accident of birth, there was little common ground between them. Several years older, he was the son of his father’s first wife who had the unfortunate distinction of being related to a family which had intrigued against their father. Divorce was inevitable, with banishment to a minor planet following, his mother considering herself lucky that she retained her head, her son, that he retained his position.

“Sister.” He had arrived at the rotunda.

“Brother.” Jirril disliked her brother just as much as he did her. Although she was barely of legal age, she considered her brother was not nearly as mature as she was. He was also, in her opinion, snobbish, unintelligent, conceited and dull. That her brother reciprocated these feelings, with an added dose of believing that his sister was uneducated and immature, did not occur to Jirril.

“Our father wants you, come with me.” Katta bluntly told his sister.

Nettled, Jirril reacted as might be expected. “You could be polite,” came out in the favorite sarcastic tone she used when around her brother. She remained firmly where she was.

Used to the bickering between the two, and not wanting a whipping, Hono stayed on her knees and tried to be invisible.

“Father wants you, now,” Crown prince Katta, practically hissed, “Do you want to explain you tardiness to him?” The six members of the guard were amused, as they often were, by the two royals fighting. They were also careful to hide it, as they all knew that any display of amusement would be swiftly punished.

Glaring at her brother, Princess Jirril knew she had to come. “Where is our father?” She snapped.

“I have to take you to him. The guard has orders to not let anyone in.” Katta replied. He turned and started walking. “You coming?” He threw over his shoulder.

With an angry motion, Jirril signalled Hono to follow her as she stamped off the Rotunda and walked, stalked might be better, past the guard and up to her brother.

“If you are putting this on just to show me up to father, I’ll …” She stopped talking, unable to think of something to say that would annoy her brother so she continued to walk through the garden head held high. Katta just grunted and they strode in silence through the garden towards the main doors of the palace.

“Be careful talking to father, I shouldn’t warn you but he might blame me.” Katta snapped as they approached the grand entrance. Throwing Jirril a glance, he continued. “Do you know anything about what has been going on lately?”

Jirril pouted, “Of course.” She lied, unsure about what to say.

“Really, what?” Her brother jeered, taking the turn into the palace, the guard following behind them.

“Scouting space craft have been sent away. I don’t know what they found,” Jirril replied triumphantly after a fraction, “but it must have been good, because father sent a fleet after them.” She threw her brother a big smile, sure that she had surprised him. Silence surrounded them as they entered the palace. Once inside, the guard was dismissed.

As they walked up the stairs to the offices of The Khan, her brother turned to Jirril. “So you know a little, that’s good. I shouldn’t be telling you this, but there is a big problem with the fleet that was sent. It has been more than two months since Great Khan Jemai Naskar last sent a message and everyone is really worried. So don’t be your usual snippy self, father won’t stand for it!”

“I don’t understand? Why wouldn’t they send messages?” Jirril gave her brother a puzzled look.

With an exasperated groan, Katta pulled her to the side of the stair, “That is the whole point, they would not send a message, either by hyper or by ship for only one reason, they were all captured or destroyed.” He spoke softly, “If they had rebelled, a message would have been sent by an agent.”

“Oh.” Was Princess Jirril’s less than brilliant response. She thought for a fraction then continued. “What about the people, whoever they are, who may have attacked our ships? What do you think that they might do?”

Katta looked at his sister. “That is one of the things that has our father worried.” A thought crossed his mind. He turned to regard Hono, the cold look on his face sending the slave to her knees, trembling.

Jirril gave her slave a look, then looked at her brother. Suddenly she realised what he was thinking. “No, Hono can be trusted, anyway she stays with me. Who could she tell?”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The cold look did not leave Katta’s face. After a fraction, he waved to his sister, turned and continued up the stairs. Jirril followed; Hono, realising that she had no choice, followed her mistress.

*********

Kamel Di Rappar, The Khan, also called the Great One, was over one point eight meters tall and one hundred kil’s with receding brown hair and hazel eyes. A large man for the Qullie Rapt, the dominant people in the Kingdom, he was also at this time a very unhappy one and his hawkish face showed it.

Meeting with his closest advisors after receiving the latest update from Fleet Headquarters, he considered his next move. The first consideration was the Kingdoms security which, of course, meant his own safety. Next was his family, followed by the rest of his entourage.

Seated on his comfortable chair, he looked at those standing around his desk. To the left was his Senior Adviser, High Khan Stephin Na Gunnrar, a military man without any qualifications except an ability to sniff out plots and conspiracies. As tall as his master, he was thin and almost cadaverous. The most hated man in the Kingdom after The Khan himself, he knew that his fate would be sealed a fraction after his master’s death.

Next was the Prime Minister, Jouvet Ni Etien. This man was in theory appointed by the Kingdoms advisory council, The Gathering. In practice, The Khan, whoever he was at the time, would suggest a name which was promptly approved. The Forum was the military equivalent and both were kept divided. Oily and obsequious he was a cunning schemer, thus he was also marked for death. His job was to keep the various groups and people quiet and supporting Di Rappar.

The Treasurer, Lennya Courtza was the man of medium height, standing on the right. The most qualified person in the room, he had to make sure that all the money necessary to run the Kingdom kept flowing into Di Rappers coffers. That made him almost as hated as the other three, especially as he went about his job with zeal combined with a ruthlessness and open enjoyment that was obvious to all he dealt with.

Standing silently behind the three counsellors were their aides as well as the aides to The Khan. None were armed, they had been searched before entering the palace. The counsellors weren’t but they were scanned. The personal guard standing silently around the room, would in any case, kill anyone who tried to attack The Khan.

The Khan had three military aides. Colonel Kobb, Major Ethle and Major Rupil. All were seconded from the Kingdom fleet on two year terms and were due to return shortly. Used as general help, they were also asked to give advice on military options from time to time which did not make them popular with the military commanders. Consequently, the position of aide to The Khan was not one sought after.

At this time, military matters were not the foremost matter for The Khan to consider. A related matter had arisen, one that was necessary for The Khan to attend to. One of the many sub clans that made up the Qullie Rapt, had shown some hesitation in supporting Kamel Di Rappar. At least, not without being given an inducement. Ordinarily different, direct methods would be undertaken, but this family, the Ra Dicatoor clan, was prosperous, large and an otherwise strong supporter. Thus, in the present situation, they could not be cavalierly dismissed or more forceful methods used to quell them, not that Di Rappar wished to in this case. He was also willing to tie the Ra Dicatoor clan even more closely to his, the Dis Cooser clan and he had a way to accomplish this. The only question was, would his daughter accept willingly, or would she fight? The Khan knew his daughter and was actually looking forward to her reaction.

His secretary, a male of course and a member of the Khans extended family, the only female workers in the palace were either in menial occupations or slaves, knocked on the door. He entered and bowed.

“Your Majesty, The Heir and the Princess are here.” He bowed again.

“Have them wait, I will see them in a fraction.” The Khan ordered. Turning to his advisors, he ordered them to leave. “I don’t know how long this will take. I will contact you when I am ready to see you again.”

“Indeed sire, I will keep watch on those at Fleet Headquarters in the meantime.” Gunnrar bowed.

The Prime Minister also bowed. “I will report anything unusual My Lord.” He didn’t really expect anything. The Gathering was a well dominated body that timidly agreed with whatever the Khan wanted. Other areas of power, such as the Solutions Committee, were a greater concern, and needed a closer eye.

The Treasurer just bowed and left. The Khan was well aware of the state of the Kingdoms finances, which for him, were excellent. Those people unhappy with taxes were not Lennya Courtza’s concern. That was a problem for the secret police and the Prime Minister.

His military aides silently saluted and left, happy to be out of the line of fire.

As everyone left, Di Rappar called for his secretary, Di Nestor. “Bring them in,” he ordered. With a bow, the silent man left. A fraction later Katta and Jirril entered, Hono staying outside. When their father pointed to the seats in front of his desk, the two exchanged a look and reluctantly sat.

Standing for a fraction, Kamel Di Rappar stared out the window onto the palace grounds. Abruptly he turned and took his seat. “Jirril, you are now seventeen and of marriageable age. Have you given any thought to a suitor?” The Khan spoke as affably as he could.

Jirril was stunned. Of all the reasons he father could want to see her, this was one which had not crossed her mind. “Father … I, I don’t know what to say.” The Princess managed to stammer out.

Katta managed to hide his amusement. Although he was just as surprised, he was ready when their father turned to him.

“So, Heir, do you have a suitable candidate suggestion?”

Pausing for a small fraction Katta considered his options. Knowing who his father had been talking with, he decided to suggest a possible, but unlikely choice. “The eldest son of High Khan Falk Dieells, the Military Governor of Landue World, is available. He is not much, but the family is well connected, they could be valuable allies.”

As The Khan, Kamel Di Rappar, sat back in his chair to consider the implications of such a union, Jirril turned and hissed at her brother. “You would marry me off to that weakling? He can’t find his arse with both his hands, and, if what I hear is correct, he would be happier with you in his bed then he would be with me!”

“Then get his father to do the job!” Katta laughed, “I saw the way he looked at you on his last visit. It would not take much for you to get him into your bed!”

“Would you make me a whore to Dieells? Never, the man I am knotted to would be a man! Not a weakling!” More followed from Jirril in a similar vein.

Katta laughed, “It wouldn’t be the first time such a thing has been done,” he chuckled, “Not if my reading is right!” This brought more expletives from his sister.

Di Rapper listened to Jirril’s explosion, he was amused but didn’t show it. When she had fallen silent, he continued, “An excellent suggestion Heir, but I had considered it. His, ah, peculiarities ruled him out for me.” He smiled, “There is someone else that I had in mind. They will be here tomorrow.”

With narrowed eyes, Jirril scanned her father. As the only daughter, she had certain privileges. A valuable asset, to be bargained away to a suitable match, she could get away with more than other women could. No one wanted damaged material for a wife.

“So father, who is this person of great presence that you would deem of consequence enough for your daughter?”

Both father and son stared at Jirril. Kamel surprised that his daughter to speak to him in such a manner and tone, Katta that Jirril could put such sentences together.

“Daughter, do you wish to test me?” The Khan spoke softly. “Do you think that I would not take a whip to your backside?”

“Father, I beg forgiveness,” Jirril was contrite. “But you must admit that this is a shock to me. If you had informed me that negotiations were undertaken, I would have been better prepared.”

“I have had proposals for your joining every week for the last two years. You know this so don’t play shocked with me.” Kamel brought his whip down on his desk with some force. Jirril cringed.

Much as he would have liked to see his sister whipped, Katta was also intensely curious as to the prospective suitor. He posed the question, “Father, may I enquire as to who my brother in law is to be?”

Giving a hard look at his daughter, The Khan replied, “Khan Harb ra Dicatoor, the son of Great Khan Jar ra Dicatoor, Head of The Ra Dicatoor Clan.”