Chapter 13
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"...and concluding, I want to say that we will never forget the sacrifice of the people who died for the sake of unity, to bring us all life and prosperity. They paid for our happiness with their lives! Eternal memory to them!"
"Eternal memory!" the audience responded.
Alex was silent because he was absorbed in looking at his neighbor on the right. The neighbor was also silent, but judging by the expression on her face, there was a storm of emotions behind the silence... Negative emotions. Not towards Alex, but - in general - towards what was happening.
The noble crowd was surrounded by a flock of stewards as they disembarked from the platforms and entered the palace. They quickly sorted the arrivals into a column, the place in the column being, according to Taer, determined by the antiquity and nobility of the clan. Alex found himself in the front rows, which were not crowded at all. Lord Cassard with "Lieutenant Diltar," a lone girl, escorted by two beasts in the scarlet ceremonial cloaks of House Fyron, and a small group of men with azure ribbons over their shoulders who were careful to pretend not to notice Alex and the strange girl.
"The Pell clan of House Peltar," Taer commented in a barely audible whisper. "The oldest surviving clan in the Sector."
Oh, yes, I remember! House Fyron and his allies beat the Peltars, who had previously been 'sector watchers', and they've been mortally offended ever since - they weren't beaten by... by the rules! Alex mentally chuckled. He genuinely believed that the word 'rules' did not apply to wars. And the local aristocrats, who were passionately poisoning each other in political struggles, must understand that very well.
Meanwhile, the convoy moved on. At the head, to Alex's surprise, was the girl with the beasts, followed by the "group in the azure swimsuits," as Alex called them, and behind them were Lord Cassard and Taer. Behind them began the tight order of the less ancient and noble aristocracy. And so, in line, they went to lay wreaths of remembrance at the "Monument of the Fallen". There were no joyful crowds in the palace, but they were successfully replaced by journalists and reporters, who settled near the walls along the route of the column. The thought of being filmed by thousands of cameras and most likely many of them broadcasting live added to the unpleasant feeling of nervousness, and Alex mentally cursed those who had persuaded him to come here. He walked on full automatic, thinking only of how not to embarrass himself. Next to him, pale with excitement but with a completely impenetrable face, walked Taer, holding the wreath that was to be "laid".
Fortunately, it was a short walk, less than five minutes. After entering the strikingly large internal garden, the procession approached the monument in the center. A large and slightly battered metal plaque with a concise inscription reading To those fallen in action at Toliara.
A modest monument - with the giganto mania around here, you could count on something the size of the pyramid of Cheops. The giganto mania is understandable, given the crowd that has gathered, Alex thought as Taer ceremoniously handed the wreath to two guardsmen in the dark gold uniform of House Bentar.
After the laying of the wreaths, a series of speeches began. A representative from each house, and sometimes the ruling lord himself, came out and spoke briefly, for about ten minutes, about "no one is forgotten, and nothing is forgotten". There was little variety in the speeches. That would have been half the trouble. But, firstly, the speeches were heard standing up, and, secondly, the speeches lasted ten minutes, given that there were eight Great Houses. Almost an hour and a half of speeches. During that time one might have been completely dumbfounded, were it not for the fact that the neighbor on the right was the strange girl and her no less strange attendants.
The girl was standing about three meters away from Alex, and for the first time, he was able to see her up close. She was a particular character: She was tall, about six feet tall, broader in the shoulders than Alex, and muscular - a real "Grenadier woman". She was incredibly tanned, which made her stand out from the other aristocrats present - they had perfect white skin. Her dark bronze tan contrasted with her short, boyish platinum hair and gray eyes. Her outfit also stood out from the surrounding ladies - dark brown leather-look trousers tucked into high boots, a wide belt laden with two blasters, and a light-colored long-sleeved shirt. The collar was wide open, revealing a powerful chest on which rested a massive gold chain.
The image was completed by a two-finger-wide gray metal hoop, without any sign of adornment, that encircled the girl's head and two massive bracelets of the same gray metal. Her face, especially compared to the local ladies, did not look sophisticated - it was not beautiful, but rather pretty, and the contempt in her eyes was not nice.
The companions were also colorful. A very furry "something" as tall as Alex's chest, looking like a six-legged raccoon with a huge tail like a squirrel. And a chitin-covered monster displaying magnificent claws on all eight limbs. The limbs were disproportionately long and had lots of joints. The creature must have kept its arms and legs half-bent, which made it difficult to tell where anything was in this tangle. Eight eyes gleamed red at the back of the tangle. The creature was intelligent, as indicated by the handles of its phasers that protruded from beneath its ceremonial cloak.
The fluffy creature acted so naturally that Alex could not tell whether it was a representative of an intelligent race or a tame animal. The mysterious beast, as if sensing his gaze, turned its head and stared at Alex with its almost round brown eyes. It must have recognized nothing of interest and turned away, yawning widely, showing a long pink tongue and an enormous mouth full of tiny needle-like teeth in three rows. This was accompanied by incredibly mobile triangular ears, which swiveled to indicate the source of the sound.
Yeah, the girl obviously likes to go against public opinion, well, probably to draw attention to herself. Or maybe it's the ceremonial clothes and the no less ceremonial beasts she's entitled to as a noblewoman, Alex thought, and asked in a whisper, almost without moving his lips:
"Taer, who is that on our right? And why did she go first if the Pell family is the oldest?"
"Baroness Istar and her squires. The first to go was because if the nobility and antiquity are the same, the older one goes first."
Alex found the Pell family with his eyes - there were a few people 'over fifty' and looked at the girl again, Well, twenty-eight, maybe thirty-something at most.
He was about to ask how old she was, but it was the turn of the party's hosts, the House of Bentar, to speak. His potential "bride", Lady Valerie Bellar, stood on the podium of the monument. Green-eyed and golden-haired, wearing a lavish dress with cleavage and what appeared to be a corset. A tiara gleamed in her hair.
Well, just like a Barbie princess. However, it could have been much worse - an ugly old damsel, for example.
The Ruling Lady did not take too long, quickly saying all the necessary words for such an occasion. She ended her speech by reminding them that "we will not forget this fateful moment that determined the fate of the sector and those who gave their lives to win the battle of Toliara".
With her last words, the sky above the inner garden began to darken rapidly. Soon the sparse stars appeared and grew brighter, the yellow ball of the sun flashed to the left, and the black disk of the night side of some planet came into view. Just above Alex's head a spindle-shaped spaceship floated by, followed by another and another. Above the garden, two star fleets were approaching, preparing for battle.
Yes, the special effects are top-notch, Alex thought admiringly as he watched the battle unfold.
It was unclear who was for whom - almost all the emblems on the ships were different - there was simply no uniform insignia. So Alex mentally named the fleets - Left and Right. The Right hovered near the planet while the Left was rapidly approaching it, firing some sort of minutiae - fighters, it must be. A few minutes later, the battle was brewing. A swarm of Left fighters, backed by smaller ships, struck a wide arc into the flank of the Right fleet while the heavy ships, moving in a straight line, aimed for the center of the enemy formation. After that, Alex stopped understanding what was going on and who was who. And began to simply admire the action, mesmerized by the beauty of the battle. Bright beams sliced through space, clots of shots smashed into the mirrored haze of shields, and missiles exploded in dazzling flashes, blasting fighters and smaller ships to shreds. The fleets fought with no clear advantage, no large ships were destroyed, and the losses of the smaller ones were roughly equal...
As a dozen medium-sized ships appeared out of nowhere behind the Right-wing fleet, the hulls flashed with blue light, and the fleet sped towards the Right-wing fleet. Alex thought it was the Right's reinforcements arriving, but he was wrong. The ships that emerged in a single group attacked the Right's heavy ships one by one, attacking from behind. In a matter of minutes, there was a decent-sized gap in the Right's formation, and two of their ships were slowly falling apart, illuminated by the flashes of explosions.
But then, for some reason, the largest ship of the Left exploded must have been the flagship, followed by another heavy ship and another. No longer bound to fight with equal opponents, the battleships of the Right slowly turned around and engaged the ships that had attacked them from behind. After a few more minutes it was all over - the 'Right' had won. The sky took on its natural color, the ships became translucent and froze in place, and the audience present erupted in thunderous applause. Alex joined in - it really was an amazing sight.
"Well, that's the end of the official part. We can go to the rest area of House Fyron and tidy ourselves up," Taer sighed with relief.
The noble crowd was in motion: some reached the garden exits, and small groups were forming - people were greeting their acquaintances and chatting animatedly. The journalists huddled along the walls and went out into the street.
One journalistic "squad" was moving purposefully towards Lord Cassard. He had no desire to be interviewed, so when it became clear that they were not aiming at him but at Baroness Istar and her menagerie, Alex was relieved.
"Lady Faith! Lady Faith! The audience wants to know what you think of the Unification Festival and the simulation just shown." The red-haired journalist swooped down on the baroness with questions and seeing that she seemed in no hurry to resist the 'fifth estate' she introduced herself. "Azuri Terbala. Free Worlds News."
The Baroness smiled sweetly at the journalist. And suddenly, without a swing, but clearly hard, she hit her in the face! The girl was just beginning to fall, and the Baroness's right hand hit the cameraman's solar plexus. He dropped the camera from his hands and bent down, gulping for air, at which point Lady Faith grabbed him by the hair and hit him in the face with her knee. The operator collapsed to the floor and was immediately kicked in the groin. It all happened in literally a second - here was Lady Faith listening to the question with a sweet smile, and now an enraged Baroness Istar was kicking the defeated journalists with hatred.
The men in black uniforms appeared from out of nowhere and surrounded the battlefield, shielding the scene from prying eyes. They began to exhort Lady Faith to stop. But no attempt was made to stop the beating by force. The Baroness's "squires" did not intervene either. At last, the Baroness yielded to their entreaties and left, surrounded by men in black, while the journalists were picked up by the guards of the House of Bentar.
There was an unnatural silence in the hall, which, after Lady Faith had left the garden, was replaced by the usual hubbub of the nobility discussing what was going on without looking at the victims. Azuri Terbal's face was splotched with blood, her nose smashed by a blow, and she was sobbing and moaning muffled. The cameraman, by the look of him, was more badly hurt. The blow of the knee shattered his lips, and the massive opaque glasses that covered his eyes cracked open, exposing the electronic stuffing. They left the garden, supported by the Bentar Guards. In a minute, nothing reminded them of the incident - the stewards had wiped off the blood, and several men in black uniforms were talking demandingly to the journalists.
"Is beating up reporters who ask inconvenient questions a regular thing?" Alex asked Taer, shocked by what he saw.
"Of course not, Lord Cassard! Such behavior is unacceptable, unworthy, and unacceptable to any civilized man, much less a nobleman!" A low male voice, coming from somewhere behind him, preceded Taer.
The "specialist" who was standing sideways and so could see the speaker froze and made a statue of herself. It must have been the big bosses who spoke, concluded Alex, who had already studied the Guardsman's habits.
He turned around and looked carefully at the speaker: a short, trim man in his sixties with a slightly distracted face, which was adorned by a small neat beard, graying with gray. His brown eyes were slightly squinted, and his short-cropped hair was completely white.
"How will she pay for it?" Lord Cassard asked, nodding in the direction Lady Faith had gone.
"Absolutely nothing, most likely," his companion shrugged. "She could have shot that poor woman on the spot, and even then the case would probably not have gone to trial."
"Is that in the order of things too?" Alex asked. "And, you know, unfortunately, I've completely forgotten your name..."
"No, it isn't," the stranger smiled. "But this is a unique case. Lord Sargo Athand, at your service!" He introduced himself with a barely perceptible bow.
"Nice to meet you," Alex replied with a bow of his head. "What makes this case unique?"
"By the magnitude of the participant's personality, Lord Cassard, by the magnitude! The Baroness Istar is legendary in every sense of the word! And renowned for her badass temper. So this journalist should have thought before asking provocative questions. Anyway, she got the story anyway," Lord Athand added with a smile.
"What was the provocation?" asked Alex, to whom the question seemed quite innocent.
Lord Sargo Athand glanced at Alex in surprise, then, as if remembering something, gave him a smile:
"Your partial amnesia has completely slipped my mind. Look," he held up his hand and pointed to one of the surviving ships that had so successfully attacked the Right wing fleet from behind. "This is the Cusaka, Baroness Istar's attack frigate, and this," the lord's hand pointed to the mangled hull of the Left's flagship. "The heavy cruiser Black Spear, flagship of the Outcasts, Baron Lormir Cassard's ship. They say he was her lover. Your distant ancestor, by the way. According to the official version, the Black Spear was destroyed due to a cascading overload of the shield modulators caused by a lucky hit. As demonstrated to us in today's simulation of that battle."
"And in reality?"
"In reality," Lord Athand grinned. "The Black Spear was shot almost point-blank from the direction where the shields were nullified by its allies, who had decided that being a Great House within the Tail Empire was far more interesting than being barons in the Kingdom of Fyron. This treachery brought victory to the Imperial forces. Everyone knows this, but it is not customary to talk about it. Now, do you understand the Baroness' reaction?"
Alex shrugged in response:
"In my opinion, she overreacted emotionally when asked about events that happened three thousand years ago to her distant ancestors. Even if we were shown an incorrect version of what happened today. It is not the journalist's fault."
"You misunderstand me, Lord Cassard," Sargo smiled softly. "This is the Baroness Istar. It was she who commanded the frigate raid. It was her lover who died on the ship, shot by traitors. However, even if he wasn't her lover, still Baroness Istar was one of Emperor Tail's fiercest opponents... and we are celebrating his victory."
"So she's, what, three thousand years old?" Alex wondered.
"Yes, a historical oddity," Lord Athand said with a wave of his hands. "Or rather, an embarrassment. Just after the collapse of the Tail Empire and about six hundred years ago, when the idea of secession from the Federation was being actively discussed, it became very fashionable to remember the heroes who fought for independence. And then there was such a symbol - the warrior maiden. There are still monuments to her on Fyron and the Kilretzes and two awards for bravery named after her. The Church of United Flame even wanted to canonize her as another incarnation of Ir'Ryane, but fortunately, they didn't get around to it. The historians have had their doubts as to whether she fought in person or was the mastermind," he gestured indefinitely. "However, men of science rarely have the same opinion. Six years ago, during an excavation on Istar, a stasis pod containing the Baroness and her squire was discovered. After talking to the real Baroness, doubts that she personally led the boarding parties and commanded the fleet fell away."
"Is that why her actions are met with such piety? Because she's a living relic of the past?" Alex asked, eyeing with interest the Cusaka, which happened to be commanded by Lady Faith.
"Well, that's why, too," Lord Athand nodded. "Mores were more direct then, and the baron in his land could execute and pardon without restraint."
"It must be hard for her here after all these years. And her enemies' victory day is still being celebrated."
She's practically transported to another world, you might say, a fellow sufferer! Alex sympathized.
"You don't say, Lord Cassard, it's very hard!" Sargo agreed. "That's why she's rarely in the Sector. She gets bored with us," he lowered his voice and, with a sly smile, asked. "Would you like gossip?" He waited for a nod and then continued. "They say that out of boredom, she's formed a pirate fleet, sacking ships near the Free Economic Zone. Collaborated with the Gnarm cartels - must have been selling what they seized - and then some sort of conflict ensued. That's why she wanted in the Gnarm space for the murder of the head of the Shiisrodak clan - Ropata the Wise - and his two sons. All in all, a personality of staggering proportions."
"And she gets away with it, too," Alex nodded understandingly. "As a historical figure."
Lord Athand smiled ironically: "Well, it doesn't matter what some gnarmes who aren't even part of the Empire say! And about the pirate fleet," he said with a wave of his hands. "You'd have to prove that. Whoever looks like that on the record is no cause for concern to their Ladyship, Lady Fayth, a person in the Emperor's good graces."
"The Emperor's good graces? Does the Emperor like historical curiosities?"
"Well, it's not about curiosities," sighed the interlocutor. "Because of her antiquity and nobility, as well as several legal and genealogical reasons, the Baroness is entitled to claim the position of Ruling Lady in two houses at once, Fyron and Kilret. The Emperor is therefore very fond of displaying the Baroness to the Ruling Lords when they get too carried away. A very graceful way of intervening in a situation on occasion. That's why she's so carefully guarded by the Security Service."
The men in black uniforms must be the Security Service, Alex decided, and he was about to question Lord Athand, who turned out to be very well informed, but his plans were not going to happen.
"Excuse me for interrupting your conversation, but I wanted to remind my husband of a promise he made..." A beautiful tall woman in her thirties came up behind Lord Athand, placing her hand on his shoulder. A tiara glittered in her dark hair with massive stones, and her black dress was adorned with a train so long that it lay another two meters behind its mistress.
"Of course, darling, I'm on my way. I was just explaining to Lord Cassard the reason for Baroness Istar's anger." Sargo replied with warmth in his voice as he stroked her arm.
Hearing Lady Faith's name, Lord Athand's wife pressed her lips together squeamishly:
"Disgusting scene! Poor Lakita, she'd worked so hard to make everything perfect, but this stunt had ruined everything hopelessly. And Baroness Istar herself - everyone has already resigned themselves to her behaving like a commoner and to these characters - her squires... After all, it's her own business! But some actions cast a shadow over the whole House! It's a pity, but some nobles (an eloquent glance in Alex's direction) don't understand that! And what's sad is that they represent the oldest families of our House, our honor and pride..."
"Unfortunately, I must take my leave, Lord Cassard," Sargo interrupted his wife with a strained smile. "I think I'll be seeing you again today."
After saying goodbye to Lord Athand and his wife, Alex turned to Taer:
"So, who was it? Was it someone in positions of power too?"
"Lord Athand has been head of our House Privy Council for eight years now," Taer replied.
"What an interesting man," he said, but his wife is a pompous, enthusiastic fool. "Well, let's just hope I don't give the impression of a nutcase," Alex grinned. "It'll be the Privy Council that makes the final decision about my eligibility, won't it?"
The "security specialist" nodded silently, confirming his hunch, and pointed to the exit from the garden with her eyes:
"Your Lordship, shall we go to House Fyron's recreation area?"
"Yes, let's go," agreed Alex, who had been exhausted by four hours of official business and, more importantly, was more and more drawn to the "room of reflection".
When they reached the recreation area, with the help of the stewards, they found the rooms allocated to Lord Cassard, two huge rooms with a private bathroom. Where they finally managed to catch their breath and tidy up.
The sheer size of the local palaces and castles is becoming more and more understandable. If every lord had a room or two, and they gathered in such crowds, you'd have to build something a couple of kilometers across!
Alex sat half in a luxurious armchair and looked around the room - it was no less luxurious than the one in the castle.
He put his hand to the embroidery that covered the silk-covered walls - the tiny golden flowers were as lifelike.
The other rooms are probably just as well decorated. Plus the servants - there must be at least a couple of thousand people for such a big place, and probably more. Someone has to pay for all this and in such quantities. Or all noblemen - owners of factories, newspapers, steamships.
The latter was very unlikely - he had interacted a little with the local aristocracy, but they did not resemble hardened businessmen. More like politicians, yes. There was no talk of business or money, but there was politics all the time.
So, the oppressive top brass is directly eating up taxes, and judging by what we have seen they are doing it in a big way...
Alex's thoughts on the fate of the underclass were interrupted by the arrival of Taer:
"My lord, there is a guardsman to see you with a message from Countess Durlurl. Her ladyship asked me to remind you that you had promised to see her."
"Well, let's go!" He sighed heavily.
They had long since fixed themselves up, and Alex saw no point in excusing himself as "needing to rest". So after leaving the resting rooms and passing the guardsmen who guarded their rest, they followed a serious young man in the black and red uniform of the House Fyron Guards.
Lord Cassard glanced absently around the palace, mentally preparing himself for the conversation with the 'bride' and her entourage.
His entourage and his 'bride' were waiting for him in the spacious hall, richly decorated with gold moldings and ornaments, the upholstery of the furniture also gold with fine embroidery. A small group of House Fyron was present, and familiar faces stood out, including Countess Durlurl, chatting sweetly with his potential bride, and Lord Athand, chatting with a stout older man. In all, the hall glowed with gold and the plastic smiles with which those assembled greeted one another.
"Alex!" The Countess exclaimed when she saw them enter, and, taking Valerie Bellar under her arm, she headed towards them. "At last, you've come. We've been waiting for you!"
Approaching Alex and Taer, Daim Esta lit up with a smile: "Well, there's no need to introduce anyone here. We've all known each other for a long time, haven't we?" she asked.
"Yes, we have known Lord Cassard for a very long time, and I met Mistress Diltar during the last golden season," Valerie said quietly, with a slight smile.
Alex, who was looking at his "bride", preferred to remain silent. He simply did not know who knew where, when, and with whom.
It could have been so much worse... once more his mind raced. Lady Valerie Bellar was pretty - huge green eyes, a doll face, and slightly full lips. And perhaps even pretty - a little shorter than Alex and with a good figure, though it was hard to tell if it was a credit to nature and a credit to the corset. Probably not stupid either, though the doll princess image obviously doesn't emphasize intelligence... Ergo, not stupid at all.
"Then I shall hand you over to the cameramen!" With these words, Countess Durlurl called for a group of people who stood modestly in the far corner.
Alex spent the next fifteen minutes with the idiotic smile of a teenager in love on his lips, holding hands with Valerie Bellar. The cameramen circled, filming them from different angles. "Lord Cassard and Lady Bellar holding hands." "Lord Cassard and Lady Bellar standing by the window looking out into the distance", "Lady Bellar looking at Lord Cassard" and similar idiocy. Fortunately, the photo session was over relatively quickly - the plan was to have a "demonstration for the public" next. Having listened to the parting instructions and continuing to smile non-stop, the "hopelessly in love" set off for a romantic stroll around the garden. The plan was to film some footage with a "hidden camera" to make it more realistic.
From what he had already seen, the various gardens in the palace were innumerable. Emperor Tail must have loved fresh flowers. The particular garden chosen for the lovers' stroll was on an open balcony about the size of a football field. It overlooked the sea, or some large lake, the water surface of which was now playing with the scarlet glow of the setting sun. A perfect scene for a walk of lovers, Lord and Lady!
The "lovers" were strolling along the narrow sandy paths that covered the garden, followed at a respectful distance by the guardsmen from the ruling lady's guards, accompanied by Taer. The garden was rather deserted, and in addition to the lovers and their guards, there were several other couples and just single members of the aristocracy strolling through the garden. When Lord Cassard and Lady Bellar saw the "lovers", they cast meaningful glances at them and hurried out.
Either out of politeness or a desire to share the news sooner, Alex decided, glancing after the other dignified bystander as he fled. Rumors of negotiations have probably been circulating for some time, and since we're walking together here, it means the high parties have reached an agreement. The demonstration for the public has clearly succeeded.
He was distracted by the quiet melodious voice of the Ruling Lady:
"It's a lovely garden, one of my favorites in the palace," Valerie commented as if casually running her hand over the soft and dense moss that carpeted the balcony railings.
Alex, thinking to himself, I wonder if I act like an idiot now and crash the wedding, will they kill me right away or not? absently glanced around the garden.
A few small trees with lush crowns were growing in the middle of small islands of greenery separated by narrow sandy paths. The islets themselves were formed by a strange, waist-high, green moss-like plant that had been clipped in the shape of sea waves crashing onto the shore. The waves were great - swirling and white lumps of foam made of some small flowers.
"It's beautiful. And the view of the sea is excellent," he nodded toward the blazing sunset.
Lady Valerie stopped at the railing and, leaning against it, looked up at Alex as if she was thinking about something:
"Tell me, Lord Cassard, why do you want to get married? You haven't been interested in politics before."
"Let's just say it was an offer I couldn't refuse," Alex replied with a frown.
"Are you so enthralled by the title of Lord Consort? I thought you satisfied your vanity in other ways..."
No, I just don't know how I can get away with it, he thought angrily, and said:
"No, frankly, I am not enthused by the idea, but I was persuaded by very persuasive people until I was persuaded that it would be better for everyone."
"What a coincidence, I was both convinced and persuaded too," Valerie's voice sounded a little sad.
"So you're not in favor of this marriage?" Alex asked cautiously.
If the Bentarians refuse the marriage, I have no problem with it. I just need to gently persuade them to refuse
"Frankly, I don't like the idea." sighed the Ruling Lady, absently stroking the moss-covered railing. "But the Privy Council is right. Our House needs an alliance with either Melato or Fyron to develop. And having considered House Fyron's offer, I was forced to agree. After all, the welfare of the House was far more important than my personal worries."
"Since when is marriage a prerequisite for a union?" Alex hinted as if casually. "If the agreement between the Houses has been reached. Marriage is nothing more than a formality to seal these agreements. Above all, marriage is no guarantee of the union's longevity: the political situation can change, and our houses can turn from allies to rivals. Why do something that could cause problems in the future?" he looked at Valérie expectantly, is it working or not?
"You're right about something, Lord Cassard," the ruling lady looked slightly surprised, /oh, so it also talks! "Marriage is not a prerequisite for the union. But how will my House gain access to the resources of the Cassard domain and, more importantly, to the shipyards owned by the Cassard family if I am not part of your family?"
"I see no reason why you wouldn't have access to these Shipyards even without the marriage if our Houses have already agreed on everything."
Valerie, said nothing in reply, only looking at Alex with a certain amount of scepticism.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
They are probably afraid that without a defect they may be scammed.
"There are always options. For example, you could propose a direct contract with the Shipyards owned by my family for the services you are interested in. Perhaps such a contract would be an even better guarantee than marriage since it could be enforced in an Imperial Court."
"I'm afraid the agreement isn't quite what we need," Valerie sighed, and she stepped away from the railing and walked leisurely through the garden again. "But I'll think about what you said."
After taking a couple more laps around the park and chatting about the weather with sweet smiles, the "couple in love" returned to the same golden hall where representatives of the two Houses were waiting for them.
"The two of you look so lovely together," Countess Durlurl chirped happily. "It's especially good with the garden. I bet it'll be all over the channels for the rest of the season." Daim Esta showed her a clipboard on which Lady Bellar and Lord Cassard were standing near the railing of the balcony, smiling sweetly at each other in the setting sun, talking. The picture was filmed from a distance, and the details were poorly visible, as it was shot through the foliage, which must have been some kind of hidden camera.
Idiot! Pray, they don't record the sound! mentally scolded Alex, who had forgotten that they might be being filmed. If Countess Durlurl heard our conversation, it could create more problems. On the other hand, what will she do to me while they want to marry me? Alex mentally smirked - he didn't want to get married, but while he was "getting married", not only could Countess Durlurl not do anything to him, but on the contrary, she was interested in making sure nothing happened to him. And, therefore, is an ally against the unknown assholes trying to kill him. But as soon as he upsets the marriage, she becomes a person of interest in eliminating him because of his "adept" nature.
Yeah, it's a stupid situation.
After supporting everyone's opinion that the recording was very successful, Alex politely excused himself from the audience and hurried out of the room. He wanted to talk to Lord Athand, expecting that the head of the Privy Council would know what the Bentars wanted since they had to marry off their Ruling Lady, and he might have some idea of who wanted to kill him. And talking about Lady Faith was probably no coincidence, which means Sargo Athand wants something from him. He didn't just walk up to him, did he? But unfortunately, Lord Athand was no longer in the hall, so Alex decided to find him later, at the ball.
"Look, how is it that Countess Durlurl became Head of Intelligence at that age? Wasn't there anyone more experienced?" Alex asked the question that had long plagued him as he and Taer walked back to the restrooms. He suspected either patronage from a lover somewhere very high up in the echelons of power was involved or some kind of kinship there as well.
"Last year, Daim Esta was given a procedure of destructive rejuvenation. And the operation was very successful. And so... she's over fifty years old and has been in the Intelligence Service for a long time. And she's not a noblewoman - they try to appoint people to this position who are not connected to the Main Families."
Alex froze as if frozen: No way! Valerie and the Countess looked the same age, but Taer looked noticeably older - about twenty-five. How old are they?
"And how old is Valerie Bellar then? And you?" he asked cautiously as he continued to move.
"Lady Bellar is twenty-two, and I'm twenty-four," Taer replied with an ironic smile. "You think you've been slipped some old ladies?"
"What was I supposed to think?" Alex objected. "You look older than Countess Durlurl, and if she's over fifty, how old are you?"
"Come on, I don't look that much older," she shrugged.
Upon reaching the rooms reserved for Lord Cassard's rest, Alex and Taer were stunned by a statement from the Bentar guardsmen standing at the entrance:
"You have a visitor, Lord Cassard!"
When the intrigued Lord Cassard entered the room, he saw Baroness Rionale sitting in an armchair, staring thoughtfully into the infoblock. From the way her eyes moved, she was reading something:
"I didn't expect to wait for you!" She broke away from her reading and raised her head, the sunset's rays touching her face in a shower of golden glare. Kayrin set the infoblock aside and walked over to Alex:
"You look serious and tired. Is the holiday wearing you out, or is something wrong?" She asked, putting her hands on his shoulders. Now that she was very close to him, her face was covered in a network of fine gold threads interwoven in intricate patterns.
"Just some unexpected business," Alex brushed it off
So, it looks like the conversation with Lord Athand and the "well-wishers" has been ruined. How can I get away with it?
"What about your face?" he asked.
"What is it off?" She touched the netting with a slight fright, ran her finger over a few strands, and sighed in relief. "Phew, it's okay!"
Baroness Rionale looked reproachfully at Alex.
"You scared me! I had already decided that I would have to put it on again. It would have been a nightmare!"
"No, everything's fine as far as I see!" he assured her. "Just curious. I haven't seen that on you before."
"Well, you know," Kayrin explained. "My parents and the rest of my immediate family are really nerdy when it comes to ceremonies. And I find the baronial crown tasteless. And you can't get a proper haircut! But listen to them - come naked, but with a crown and all the regalia. So, as a compromise with my relatives, I wore a sevaril instead of a crown."
"It suits you very well," Alex admired sincerely.
The gold sheen of the threads was accentuated by the waterfall of dark hair and set off by the dark purple open-shouldered dress Kayrin was wearing. And the long, elbow-high gloves to match the dress added to the glamour.
"Thank you, all thanks to your help in choosing," was the flirtatious reply.
Alex honestly didn't remember such a dress, much less a net on the face, but made the right decision to remain silent.
"Shall we go to the ball?" Kayrin asked enthusiastically. "It's already in full swing, and then the unofficial party starts!"
"Let's go!" Alex tried to show enthusiasm, mentally resigning himself to the fact that he could not seem to get away from the Baroness.
Accompanied by Taer, who had not uttered a word since Kayrin had appeared, they reached the hall where the ball was being held.
The bright walls, made of pink marble, were decorated with bronze wrought iron, stylized as the shoots of some plant, these metal stems stretching upwards to the domed ceiling, decorated with murals, where they blossom into small graceful flowers. However, given the gigantic height of the ceiling, the flowers must have been enormous. The floor, of some light grey stone with bluish streaks, was decorated with a pattern in the same plant motif. Light green lines lined with crystals as wide as a palm glowed softly green and intertwined with each other in concentric circles on the floor.
The high domed ceiling was supported by numerous columns, their slender rows forming the elongated oval of the main hall. The columns made as if of amber, glowed softly, radiating warmth from within, and were braided by a dense network of bronze stems. The painting on the ceiling depicted a very beautiful dark red-haired girl in a long loose green dress surrounded by intricate floral ornamentation. The girl's green eyes shone visibly.
Yes... It seems that three thousand years ago, they were crazy about art nouveau and lively greenery here, thought Alex, admiringly looking at the hall. The gigantic room was filled with light and music, long tables with snacks stood along the walls, and around them, there were groups of people discussing something and just onlookers. Couples were dancing in the center of the room and, to Alex's surprise, above his head too - in the air, surrounded by what looked like giant soap bubbles, already dancing in three dimensions. The bubbles surrounding the flying couples were distorting slightly at the base, filling with shivering mirrored haze, probably to prevent peeking under the dancing ladies' skirts.
Degrade not only elegantly but with gusto! Alex thought admiringly.
The Baroness, seeing with what interest he was looking at the couples dancing in the air, immediately offered to dance. Alex began to talk about how he couldn't dance, and in general... But Kaнrin didn't listen to his objections and dragged him somewhere in the corner of the hall.
"Alex!" he was called out loudly from the side by a woman.
When he turned around, he saw two girls about twenty meters away - a short-cut blonde with wavy hair and a brown-haired girl with a high, complicated hairdo.
"And I couldn't find you!" The blonde informed him, not the least bit embarrassed by the fact that she had almost shouted.
"Who's that?" Alex hissed, looking at Taer.
He had grown weary of the sudden appearances of "old acquaintances" who usually brought nothing but trouble. And now, at the very least, he wanted to know in advance who had decided to make him happy this time.
"Lady Isalaya Marquess of Turang," Taer replied and, with a slight gloating glance at Kayrin, added. "Your mistress."
The day had been so exhausting and hard that Alex showed far less emotion than Kayrin had hoped for. For that, he could even make a joke:
"Oooh, I happen to have excellent taste!"
Lady Isalaya, meanwhile, was quickly shortening the distance with swift gliding steps. A tall girl of about twenty-five with a hawkish nose and bright blue eyes, her wavy blonde hair was cut short. As she moved, crimson waves rolled across her tight, long dress of deep pink. There was a kind of predatory beauty and impetuosity about her.
"Did you miss me?" She asked, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving Alex an embarrassed kiss.
"It's good to see you, Isalaya, but we were in a hurry," Baroness Rionale stepped forward and smiled predatorily, her gaze very eloquent and not boding well.
Isalaya, with an "oops, who's there?" expression, broke away from Alex and turned to the irritant. The two members of the feline family disagreed over a cat (or mouse?) and stood - eye to eye - against each other, tails slapping violently at their sides.
Damn! Looks like there's going to be an ugly scene here with two angry women fighting, Alex thought feverishly about what to say to quell the conflict, but his newfound mistress beat him to it:
"Oh, Kayrin!" She shrieked in delight and immediately wrapped her arms around the girl, giving her an equally luscious kiss. "I didn't know you were here! Well? How was the Capital?"
Baroness Rionale had not expected such a maneuver, was stunned into silence for a few seconds, and had just started to say something when Isalaya beat her to it again:
"By the way, this is Liora," she gestured casually toward the brown-haired girl. "Countess Wistrile," the Marquise looked up at Alex and added playfully. "By the way, Alex, she's been dying to meet you."
"Your neckerchief is lovely, Lord Cassard, especially the color. Red is my favorite," the brown-haired girl finally spoke up. "Shall we dance?" She put her hand on his arm and then added, in a low voice. "And talk."
Baroness Rionale was clearly about to object, but Isalaya was hanging on to her, chirping excitedly, and there was no way of influencing the course of events.
The brown-haired woman raised her hand, revealing a massive bracelet, and snapped her fingers in some intricate way. A transparent bubble immediately coiled around her and Alex, lifting them smoothly into the air.
The sphere rose ten meters and began to move in a spiral amongst similar spheres.
"Now we can talk," the brown-haired woman said in a serious voice. "I'm Liora Wistral, Representative of the Anti-Imperialist Alliance for the Tail Sector. You were rescued by my men on the south quay."
"Very nice of them," Alex grinned. "Tell them I said thank you."
"We'd better pretend we're dancing," with these words, she took his hands and 'led' him.
Alex honestly tried not to step on her toes. Along the way, it became clear that the sphere moves where you go. How it controlled in height, he never understood. Pretending to be busy dancing, he stared furtively at his dancing partner and authorized Representative of the Anti-Imperial Alliance, Countess Liora Wistrile.
She was of medium height, about half a head shorter than Alex, or maybe even shorter, given the impressive heeled shoes and the high haircut, thin, if not subdued. She, unlike Baroness Rionale and her newfound mistress, could not boast an athletic figure and bulges in all the right places. Quite average, what they called 'no highlight'. Her face was unfortunate with make-up - bright blue eye shadow and orange lipstick. Not the best combination.
Although who knows, maybe it's the newest local fashion.
There was nothing remarkable about her brown eyes either, and he didn't want to drown in them, like Kayrin's eyes. An ordinary girl, not ugly by any means. But compared to the stunning beauty of the local high society women, she was inconspicuous.
So, all in all, a gray mouse with a 'but I'm smart' look, Alex decided as he examined the girl. But after all, you're not going to make love to her. You're going to do business with her..."
Countess Wistrile (or not the Countess, who knows) seemed determined to take the bull by the horns and got straight to the point:
"You are wearing the red scarf, as we asked, so you are interested in working with us?"
"Perhaps," Alex said evasively. "First, I would like to know what you can offer me and what you want from me?"
Liora seemed to be waiting for this question, a strange gleam appeared in her eyes, and her face took on a kind of lofty-inspired expression:
"We invite you to join the Anti-Imperial Alliance! You personally and your entire domain! In return, we shall use all our strength to support your fight against the usurper..." she spoke ardently, urging Lord Cassard that delay was not an option and that he, as a nobleman, should understand that the Emperor would not stop at the Houses of the Central Sectors - sooner or later he would no longer need the support of the Tail Sector, and then...
As the "authorized representative's" fervent speech was delivered, Alex's face began to look more and more like that of a man who had eaten a lemon but was forced to keep smiling. He was counting on some local mobsters, or at worst, local nobles interested in changing the current policies of the Great Houses. But he got some anti-imperialists! And judging by the gleam in their eyes, they were fanatics who had lost their minds!
Some kind of Boy Scouts... Alex thought disappointedly as he listened to the "representative" speech.
Being a cynical man, he did not genuinely believe in democracy, considering any power to be an elaborate form of business, and treated any suggestion of "getting off the ground and doing heroic deeds in the name of..." as a clumsy attempt to use him.
Well, or it's an inept provocation. If they fail to kill him, he will be imprisoned as a malignant conspirator against the Emperor.
The Countess Wistrile had just gone on to say that Lord Cassard would certainly have no trouble raising an anti-Imperial rebellion in his domain, which would, of course, be immediately supported by all available forces of the 'anti-Imperial alliance'. Even for Alex, who didn't understand a damn thing about local politics, it sounded like complete nonsense. He wasn't about to become a patriot whose blood would be poured on the next "tree of liberty".
"...and then all the progressive forces of all the races, seeing your example, will unite in a single wave of people's anger that will sweep away the usurper!" "Representative" Liora Wistrile seemed to have learned this speech by heart and was now sputtering along like a scribble, not noticing Lord Cassard's sour expression.
"Lady Liora," Alex interrupted her. "You know, I've been preoccupied with the attempts on my life. I thought you might have some information about it and might be able to help me."
Liora hesitated halfway through the word and looked back hurt and disappointed - she seemed to have genuinely hoped to enthuse him with her revolutionary ideas.
"Yes, we do have certain information about those who have attempted to assassinate you," the "alliance representative's" tone became noticeably colder. "And, well, if you are far from our ideals, we can sell you that information, and that will be the end of it."
Alex did not want to quarrel with a useful source of information - it might come in handy in the future. And saving a life is a very useful service that could be called upon more than once. So Liora had to be persuaded that he shared high ideals in every way, but as long as he was assassinated, he could do nothing to help.
"Are you sure our conversation is not being monitored?" he asked cautiously.
"A power cocoon," she circled her hand around the bubble surrounding them. "It interferes with any eavesdropping equipment. And I have a suppressor with me," Liora demonstrated her massive bracelet once more.
The bracelet, indeed, could have been a suppressor, or it could have been a recording device. Fifty-fifty. Alex didn't like the idea of having to trust someone else's equipment.
I'll have to hang on to Taer right after the party and keep up until she finds me so useful device. I need to get my own suppressor up and running. I'll have to find out how they work... and if they can be bypassed.
"Then I'll be honest with you, Lady Liora..."
Alex tried to give his face the same spirited expression as that of the "Madam Representative" during her speech. He pulled her tighter against him and peered into the girl's eyes with the carnivorous gaze of a hungry predator. All his acting skills were called upon to help. He was always good at persuasion and lying, though, as long as he believed what he was saying:
"My heart, like the heart of any decent person, groans at what is happening now. All the injustice..." He sighed heavily. "It is hard for me to see what is happening in the country. Freedom is dying..."
He had no idea what exactly the 'anti-imperial alliance' with the Empire did not share or what the Emperor had usurped, but he was not embarrassed by this. In such cases, it's not the arguments that matter. It's the emotional attachment. Deciding that "the one who does not risk, does not drink champagne", Alex babbled about how freedom is in danger, at the same time, hinting that his entourage is mostly pro-imperial, so it's too early to talk about rebellion and other public acts of defiance. He watched the reaction of the "representative," who, to his delight, seemed to agree - she did not break out of her arms and listened attentively and looked at him fascinatedly, like a rabbit at a boa constrictor.
"...and then I think you understand, Lady Liora - if I am killed, my usefulness to the Case will be zero, and perhaps even negative," he ended his speech a little awkwardly... but, as said before, it is not the meaning of the words that matter, what matters is the emotional vibe, very similar to the ardent courtship...
"I so understand you, Lord Cassard!" Liora sobbed. "I believed that you, like any nobleman, understood the threat to our freedom that the Emperor was doing. You have no idea how pleased I am that I was right about you! You're right - as long as your entourage is unreliable, you shouldn't act. I will ask the Centre for instructions about you, but in the meantime, my cell will help you find the people behind the assassination attempts!" she spoke very emotionally and a little disjointedly.
Alex thought at first that she had figured him out and was subtly mocking him, but then realized that - no - she was being sincere.
Creepy! Not an anti-imperial alliance, but naive children! "Kindergarten trousers on straps" and "fighters against tyranny" all rolled into one. How they haven't all been caught yet! Alex thought with quiet horror. Liora looks about nineteen or twenty, though. But apparently, you can't trust the local ladies' looks when it comes to determining age.
If somewhere enthusiastic children are genuinely trying to overthrow the government and they haven't all been caught yet, it means that there is someone old and clever behind them who benefits from the existence of these children.
I should find out what these rebels are, who invented them, and what they are for. Eh! I wish I had a 'Concise Encyclopaedia for Fools and Transported Persons' book, or a reliable informer!
"Lady Liora, I'd appreciate it if my real name wasn't mentioned when dealing with the Centre," Alex asked with a charming huff just in case. He rightly assumed that with such a contingent in this 'Centre' of theirs, every other 'snitch' to the Imperial Security Service.
"But then how will the Centre know the results of my communication with you?" Liora wondered. "And will they be able to send you instructions if they don't even know who to write them to?"
"And you tell them that you've made contact with 'Lord X'. You can count on his help, but he can't be active at the moment," Alex advised. "Let them send you the instructions. In the end, it's the increase in capacity and the overall results that count, not who has done what personally. And thanks to this scheme, if someone from your cell or the Center becomes a sni... captured, it will not lead to my arrest, and on the contrary, if something happens to me, even under torture, the poli... imperialists will not know anything!"
Liora resisted the idea sluggishly - she probably already had the texts of the victory speeches associated with the name of Lord Cassard prepared. But then she agreed that, yes, it would indeed be better for the "anti-imperial cause".
"You said you had information about those who attempted to assassinate me," Alex approached the question he was really interested in, as cautiously as on thin ice.
"Yes," Liora nodded. "The thing is, during the duel, a sniper must have shot at you. Our fighters neutralized him. Unfortunately, due to several different difficulties, we were unable to interrogate him, only to take a picture. This photo was used to identify him - a fighter from the PVD. In the past, when the PVD was not yet engaged in terrorist acts against civilians, we maintained active contact with them. We even carried out some joint operations. One of our fighters, who used to work with the PVD, recognized the sniper. And thanks to our old contacts, we found out that a large group of experienced fighters had flown to Copeira before the start of the golden season."
"Why would the PVD (I wonder what kind of terrorists they are anyway?) want to kill me?" Alex asked.
"We don't know yet. Usually, PVD actions are directed against imperial officials, military personnel, or people who actively support the Empire. You don't fall into any of those categories, especially since they prefer spectacular means, such as a thermal mine, rather than a sniper shot, which would create a far less public outcry. We have established surveillance on one of the PVD leaders, but so far, the team following him has not obtained any data."
"Is there anything I can do for you?" Alex asked. "Like money?"
"The supply of our cell is very difficult, as the Tail sector is very remote from the main Alliance bases," Liora admitted. "So we're definitely short of funds," the Representative was clearly uncomfortable in saying this, but the anti-Imperialist gentlemen did seem to be short of funds. "We are particularly short of ships. We only have one transport here, so it's hard for us to move groups around the Sector..."
"How much do you need?" Alex interrupted - they had been "dancing" for a long time, and he feared it might cause suspicion and completely unnecessary conflict with Baroness Rionale and his mistress. "And I think you understand, in this case, we need "clean" money, so even my options are somewhat limited."
"Of course I understand," Liora assured him. "We need about three hundred thousand danarii."
"That can be arranged," rejoiced Alex, who was expecting to hear a very different number - he's gotten used to a slightly different order of money in the meantime. "Where can we meet so I can give you the money? And how will we keep in touch, anyway?"
"I've been invited to this Voigrom - we can do it there. Or, if you're not flying in for the hunt, we could do it during the Great Ring races. And as for keeping in touch..." Liora was silent, clearly embarrassed. "Well... we've already worked that out. It would be best if I were your mistress... In public, of course!" she hastily assured me. "That would allow me to see you often without arousing suspicion!"
Well, really, Alex smiled grimly to himself. Baroness Rionale, Marquess Turang, Valerie Bellar, and Taer is always hanging around... Another girl would be lost in such a bloom. One wonders how Kayrin will react to "one more" mistress. And the "official" mistress - Isalaya? Both, by all appearances, are not at all conflict-free girls.
"Yes, that's a really good idea, let's do that," he agreed tiredly.
When the orb descended, Alex saw a picturesque scene:
Isalaya, chatting nicely with some elderly man and woman in steel-grey dresses - clearly a couple. Kayrin tried to devastate Marquess with her gaze but was so far unsuccessful. And Taer, who had stepped aside and tried her best to pretend that she wasn't here at all... quite successfully, by the way.
"Alex!" Isalaya rejoiced. "We were just talking about you... or rather how well you dance!"
"I'm afraid that's no longer the case," Alex said with a wave of his hands. "I've forgotten everything - how to dance, too."
"Well, Keyri, say goodbye, and let's go!" The woman in the grey dress spoke up.
"My parents are Baroness Valira Rionale and Baron Joro Rionale," Kayrin commented as she continued to cast furious glances at Isalaya. "You've known them for a long time, but since you've forgotten everything, I thought it would be a good idea to introduce them to you again."
Kayrin's father was tall, grey-haired, and had a neat little beard.
Grey hair and beards seem to be the trend of the season, Alex mentally remarked, remembering Lord Athand
Baron Joro Rionale was dressed in a sort of collarless uniform the color of the night sky and light grey trousers. A massive gold hoop crowned his head. Kaytin's mother, Baroness Valira Rional, was a tall, stately woman in her forties with expressive brown eyes and thin "stern" lips. She wore a gray-steel silk dress covered in fine black and silver embroidery and sparkling with a scattering of small diamonds. A deep neckline revealed a view of her breasts, on which rested a massive gold chain covered with intricate ornamentation. But all the splendor of the dress was overshadowed by the headdress - a veritable crown - with massive prongs slightly bent outward and adorned with large black stones, deep within which flickered purple sparks.
It must be the baronial crown, no wonder Kayrin was shaking it off - that thing must weigh six kilos or more.
"I apologize, but I have to break up your company!" Kayrin's father apologized, showing his clear and deep voice. "The family hasn't spoken to the girl in two years and are anxious to see her, and it's such an occasion to have everyone together," he smiled regretfully. "And then, I think you'll still be able to organize some sort of youth party. Kayrin is staying with you, isn't she, Allesandro?"
"See you at the end of the party, Alex!" Kayrin said a doleful goodbye, giving Isalaya one last meaningful look, and left with her parents.
"Isn't the party over yet?" Alex wondered naively.
"Oh, it's still in full swing!" Isalaya murmured playfully, approaching with the gliding gait of a predatory feline.
"I will leave you, Lord Cassard." Liora smiled sadly. "I hope to see you again sometime."
After hearing Alex's assurances of an early meeting, Countess Liora Wistrile dignifiedly retreated to the back of the hall.
"Interesting girl," Isalaya commented, looking at the retreating Liora's back. "So eager to meet you, she even offered me money!" She laughed and winked at Alex. "You know I couldn't resist! What do you think of her, by the way?"
"Great," Alex nodded. "I'm thinking of asking her out."
Isalaya didn't answer anything - only a surprised eyebrow arched and she changed the subject:
"You can imagine, the poor parents couldn't find Kayrin..." Marquise complained with a feigned sadness on her face. "It's nice to have true friends who can help! Isn't that great?"
Really great... now you have to think about what to do with another girl. All the girls around and all they want is something from you. And not something good... On the other hand, if there were men around, would it be better?
"Looks like Kayrin has a bit of a grudge against you," Alex studied his "mistress" with a thoughtful eye.
Alessandro Cassard had good taste indeed. At least when it came to women.
"Was she?" The Marquess pretended to be surprised. "I think she was remarkably calm. Two years ago it would have been a duel or at least a challenge." She stopped, noticing Alex's scrutiny, and did a spectacular dance move, turning around, and showing herself off to all sides. "Do you like me?" she asked, flashing her eyes playfully from under her long lashes.
Tall and slender, Isalaya moved with the grace of a predator - dangerous but mesmerizing. The tight, slit dress accentuated her magnificent figure and allowed her legs to show just as well. The high, taut breasts did not spoil the impression of grace and impetuosity, despite their... ample size. And judging by the steep roundness below her back and developed shoulders - the marquise was clearly no stranger to the sport. (Fencing, Alex decided, remembering his fencing experience with Baroness Rionale.)
Eyes of a deep blue color, there was something maddening, playful, and provocative about them. What they called "impish" or, in Isalaya's case, more like "demonic". The blond, slightly wavy hair was cut short and highlighted a graceful face with "sharp" features, sensuous lips, and a predatory straight nose completed the picture.
"I like you," Alex admitted honestly.
I like you so much that if we were somewhere else, without all this political stuff... However, in the "other place," I don't think there are girls like you even exist... well, except as a product of photoshop masters.
In one swift step, Isalaya was at his back and hugged him from behind.
"Then why don't we go back to my place? I missed you," she whispered hotly. And suddenly, she bit her ear gently.
Alex turned his head towards her, her lips and eyes were very close and there was something about them that made him want to drop everything and follow her. Anyway, when a girl like that calls like that, you don't say no.
But, as always, willpower and common sense woke up when he least wanted them to. A very unpleasant thought crossed his mind: She was Allesandro Cassard's mistress, she knew him well, and she might notice differences in behavior. Or something else. Maybe they're having sex differently here. I'll fucking expose myself...
"In any case, we should discuss our relationship...," the Marquise continued to exhort. "In private. Oh, and your - blade," she pointed her eyes at Taer, propping up the wall with an absent look. "Rest while we... communicate."
Isalaya managed to say the last word so ambiguously that the part of Alex's mind that really wanted to go along with the Marquise jumped at the opportunity with a joyful hiccup and immediately 'made the theoretical basis':
Indeed, it's worth discussing the relationship anyway - an unexpectedly dumped mistress can start asking all sorts of questions and digging in the wrong places. So it's worth talking to her, yes, yes!
Common sense was powerless in the face of such a "pitch":
"Yes, it's worth discussing the relationship in private," Alex agreed cheerfully and turned to offer his 'mistress' a hand. "Where to go?"
"We will find it," she smiled, taking him under her arm. "I know Tail's palace well - we won't get lost!"
It was not a long walk by local standards, only ten minutes. The Marquess Isalaya Turang occupied four huge rooms, that is, exactly two more than Lord Cassard.
In the rooms they were met by girls in white knee-length dresses and turquoise aprons - they must have been maids. And four guardsmen of House Fyron from the Marquess' escort. Leaving Taer to "rest and mingle with their comrades in arms," Isalaya and Alex secluded themselves in the bedroom. And it was exactly a bedroom - with a giant bed and a couple of armchairs. The rooms allocated to Lord Cassard had only modest sofas.
She pointed Alex to one of the armchairs and walked over to a small table, on which there was a bottle of dark gold glass and a pair of tall glasses. There was a quiet murmur of wine in the room.
"Very spacious, my place is more modest. Did knowing the castle help?" Alex asked as he assessed the surroundings.
"No, it's just that I know the right people in Bentar's house," Isalaya winked, holding out her glass. "And besides, I don't share your famous asceticism. I've got the servants and part of the 'arm' with me. I had to put them up somewhere."
Alex took the offered glass and took a small sip - the wine might even be splendid, but it still didn't taste good, so the glass was placed on the armrest of the chair. The Marquise arched an eyebrow in surprise:
"Strangely, I always thought Bentar's Dew was your favorite wine."
Alex just threw up his hands in response, showing, well, I don't feel like it. She sat down in the chair opposite and was silent, looking at him thoughtfully as if thinking about something:
"Tell me, Alex, do you remember the party at Baron Cilaro's?" Isalaya asked cautiously.
"Er... no. Should I?" he answered, slightly surprised by the change in his "mistress". When they were alone together, her playfulness was gone, and her aura of sexuality seemed to have been turned off.
It clearly smells like another 'political' conversation, thought Alex disappointedly, quickly catching where the wind was blowing. No, of course, he understood that for the case and to maintain the cover story, the conversation was better than sex, but... the "mistress" was too good.
"You mean you've forgotten everything?" the Marquise clarified.
"Yes," Alex sighed, mentally preparing for another negotiation.
No, what the heck! They lure you into the bedroom with innuendo and then slip you into politics! You can't trust anyone!
"Do you know what happened to your family yet?" Isalaya seemed determined to go in from afar. Waiting for Alex to nod, she continued. "You do realize that this wasn't an accident?" The question was clearly rhetorical, so he did not answer. "They were killed because the new Ruling Lord's position was too fragile and their influence too great," she lowered her eyes, tracing the rim of her glass with her thoughtful fingers. "Especially your father's influence. After the battle at Pell, the Guard worshipped him, and his command of one of the Imperial fleets during the war with the Orders gave him a measure of political capital in the Capital too. All that combined with the wealth of your domain..." she stopped talking and laughed softly as she leaned back in her chair:
"You know, I feel so stupid telling you all this. You told me all this yourself when I asked you why you were getting involved in all this intrigue," she stopped talking again, then waved her hand, looking at Alex strangely. "Well, never mind the old case. Let's get down to business. Let's just say you've become the mastermind of a group of people who are dissatisfied with the current ruling lord and are interested in replacing him as quickly as possible."
Hearing this, Alex sighed heavily: Nice! I'm in for some kind of conspiracy as well.
"And why would I want to do that?"
"I told you before," the Marquess said with a frown. "Even though you're still the only one of your Clan, you're still very dangerous - your domain is rich and strategically important to the House. You are wealthy and strategically important to the House. Especially since you will soon be taking your place on the Privy Council. Living under the constant threat of death is not something anyone likes..."
So Lord Cassard was an alcoholic, a womanizer, and a debauchee not out of spirits, but out of the strict necessity of conspiracy. Anything away from the women and booze and they would think him overly talented and whack him just in case. And he quietly, in between drinks, cherished his insidious plans..., Alex leaned back in his chair, digesting what he had heard. He had two questions on his mind at the moment:
"Why are you only contacting me now? What do you want from me?"
"You see, when you were poisoned, we thought that the House Intelligence or the Ruling Lord himself had uncovered our conspiracy and were now systematically destroying its members," Isalaya did not look up and looked uncertain. "There was a split in the organization. Some felt that we should simply retreat, the more aggressive ones suggested eliminating the Ruling Lord and, if the situation was favorable after his death, trying to take over. I saw no point in arguing and simply went on the run. But now that we know that the plot has not been revealed, it is necessary to call off the assassins and continue the systematic work. But these idiots..." the Marquess was about to add something else and clearly obscene, but for some reason, she stopped, sipped from her glass, and continued in a much calmer voice:
"That's why we contacted you so late. It took until everyone came back before we found out exactly what had happened... When word got out that you'd lost your memory, there was some debate about who would be a leader now, but that's not important," Isalaya sighed wearily. "The important thing is that the assassins have still not been recalled. And we are not ready to take over now, which means someone else will do it for us. So they will be looking for the killers, and they can find them... What do we need now...?" Marquise leaned forward and raised her head, looking him straight in the eyes. "We - meaning you and me - need you to sort out the mess Dimir made, put him in his place, call off the killers and, most importantly, restore access to the accounts!"
Isalaya took a few greedy sips from her glass and added:
"Of course, you can't be an effective leader in your current state, but you don't need to be."
Throughout the entire speech, Alex honestly tried to ignore the effect of his companion's appearance and concentrate on analyzing the conversation. It worked, with partial success:
What can be said about Lady Isalaya Marquise of Turang? Firstly, she is a magnificent actress, so neither her playful looks nor her current heavy sighs are to be believed. Secondly, she is trying to drag me into some foul-smelling conspiracy event, although, according to her, I am already up to my ears in it and almost the chief organizer. Thirdly, as a manipulator, she plays in the big leagues - Baroness Rionale was taken out of action with ease and grace, and I was taken to the right place. Though, she had a first-strike advantage over Kayrin. And taking me to a pretty girl's bedroom is very easy.. Fourth, she didn't need me in the conspiracy with my memorylessness - she needed me as a flag to deal with some internal conflicts and as the golden key to some accounts. Speaking of accounts...
"What accounts?" Asked Alex, who had little interest in who was in charge of some murky conspiracy, but 'accounts' were always interesting.
"This is "laundered" money in "closed" OBG accounts. Only you have access to those accounts. In the event of your death, I would have access, but no one could have guessed that you would lose your memory!"
"How much is there?"
"A little over a billion and a half denarii," she grimaced as if she was suffering from a severe migraine.
Oh, damn, they've done a lot of laundering there...
"And how do I get access to those accounts?" Alex asked businesslike.
"I can give you the account numbers, but only you knew the codes. Maybe you wrote them down somewhere, I don't know," she shrugged.
Right, it's worth opening the safe in the castle, maybe there are codes in there. Or not, I wouldn't put the codes for a billion and a half billion in the safe. Actually, it's interesting. According to her, the Marquise will inherit the money in the event of my death, but since I am alive, she cannot get it, and I cannot get it because I don't remember a damn thing.
"Look, 'love of mine'. Why didn't you just kill me?" It suddenly occurred to Alex that this option removed all of the conspirators' voiced concerns.
Isalaya grimaced again:
"Because I am against it! Such an idea has been suggested, but without my support, there is no point. Even in the event of my death, no one else can have access to the accounts."
"Why are you against it?" cautiously asked Alex, who had little faith in the goodwill of people when it came to billions...
"Because the word of the Marquess of Turang is worth more than a billion and a half denarii," Isalaya replied grimly, taking in the rest of the wine in her glass with a gulp. "And then, I don't know about you..." she broke into a classic feminine - I do you, but you don't do me at all! "Our relationship meant something to me."
Maybe they were trying to kill me, after all, there was someone else's sniper during the duel. Or was the sniper from the people who were trying to poison me? Or maybe there was no sniper at all, and it was just staged by the anti-imperialists to gain my trust? Or maybe Marquesa is now just blatantly screwing me, and there is no conspiracy, but a closed account, which she had learned about when she was a mistress, and now she just wants to get access to it? The last idea reeked of delirium and paranoia, and Alex hastened to stop before the speculation took him too far.
"What kind of relationship did we have?" he decided to clarify.
"Friendly. I trusted you very much, and you trusted me..."
Seemed very trusting indeed since she was the one who had access to a billion and a half denarii in the event of his death. That's over nine billion backs.
"Friendly? Was the lover's status used as a cover?"
So it's a standard scheme here, and Liora is not original with her suggestion?
"Yes," she nodded. "It allowed us to spend a lot of time alone, avoiding suspicion. Well, sometimes..." Isalaya's eyes went back to a sexual frenzy. "Things have happened... Being friends doesn't interfere with THAT," she added, smiling invitingly.
* * *