NationStates Jolt Archive

The white mask chuckles. "You think being a soldier's brother has made my oblivious? Besides, the whole flower trick is the oldest one in the book. Adjusting it before asking what our nation trades in was what gave you away though."

Sarah watched Daniel as he paced around the balcony. Once or twice, she wanted to reach out to him, to reassure him by physical contact. But something in his manner always stopped her.

“I love you, and...but...because of some sort of...” he started while leaning against the wall with his head in his hand. Sarah waited for a couple heart beats, then crossed to him.

“Because of some sort of what?” she asked, placing a hand gently on his chest.

((Muktar))

She finished adjusting the flower, and then looked up and gave him a dashing smile. "I'm afraid you're wrong, sir...off by just a couple of inches."

((Iansisle))

Daniel sighed, and looked away. He said in a small, saddened and hurt voice, "because...you're married...and..."

"...and?" she prompted.

The marriage was no problem; Sarah was ready to face being a social outcast on the Shield if it meant staying here. But she couldn't burn bridges until she was sure of Daniel's feelings.

Daniel sighed. "I love you, and...I'd do anything to be with you...but..." he closed his eyes and looked away again. A single tear dropped down his cheek. "I couldn't...ask you...to...to...I mean, what about..."

"What about John?" asked Sarah, her voice soft as she mentioned her husband's name for the first time. She watched Daniel's expression carefully.

"Dear Daniel," she continued, her voice still low, "to be with you, I would gladly, and without a trace of hesitation, cast aside a thousand John Caddicks."

And any chance of my - our - ever being welcomed back into the proper circles on the Shield.

Daniel looked up at her, and wiped away the tear. He stood up, and smiled, wanly. "I..." he looked at her, his eyes dimmed. "I..." he couldn't find any words to express himself. He took her hand, and smiled honestly now.

He paused, and tried again. "Sarah...I swear, on my honour as Light Prince, that I love you, more than...more than I thought possible...I swear I will never hurt you, and..." his voice petered out, and he finished in a small, weak voice.

“Daniel,” replied Sarah as he trailed off, “You’ve awoken in me feelings I didn’t even know myself possessed of. I love you more than I do the sun or the moon or all the stars. Tonight, you’ve made me the happiest woman on Earth.”

The thought of escaping from John and his stuffy world was indeed more than she could dream. As she stood, hand in hand with the Light Prince of Roania, the future seemed particuarly radiant; not even dark thoughts of divorce and scandal could dim the moment.

The Light Prince looked at the woman he loved, scanning her beautiful body briefly before meeting her eyes once more.

Daniel smiled a bit. "Sarah...if we married, you do realise you'd be the Light Princess?" He asked, putting his arm slowly back around her waist. ...no! BAD DANIEL! Dumb thing to say! his mind screamed at him, and he turned red. "Sorry..."

The white mask raises an eyebrow. "Well, not that we have confirmed it's presence, would you be willing to divulge location?"

Sarah laughed as she relaxed into his arms. “No, don’t apologize,” she said, “but maybe we ought to take this relationship one step at a time.”

BUMP

((Iansisle))

"Sorry, Sarah..." Daniel said, softly. He sighed, and kissed her cheek. "Thank you..."

((Muktar))

The agent shook her head, vehemently. "No need for that."

OOC: Sigh, gotta drop out of this one. Too much going on to keep track of. Sorry about that.

((Phalanix))

"No, you're right...I don't believe that, either." The bartender smiled a bit wanly. "Try telling the truth."

The count shook his head again. "No, no...why don't you loyalists flee to Reach, and leave the rebels to the ruins?"

"Well if you need proof that I am telling the truth. I know more about Kelly than you would ever know in your life time. I know she fallowed me to the academy where she met Alexander. I know they had a sword fight and Kelly used Alexanders weakness's against him to win. She also threw him in the pool as agreed and dove in after him. Also her and Reachel when they first met nearly killed each other," Joshua replies as he sipps his drink.

"It's not that simple realy. There are no rebels on Reach. And Reach produces our core millitary equipment and plasma based weapons," she replies, "Besides if these invaders win fo all we know they could come after us on Earth or Mars. Hell they might even hunt down the smaller asteroid bases and the other planetary colonys."

"Sorry, Sarah..." Daniel said, softly. He sighed, and kissed her cheek. "Thank you..."

Sarah giggled as Daniel's lips brushed across her cheek. "You're more than welcome," she said, still not quite sure for what she was being thanked. After a moment's thought: "I think the next proper step would be for me to get to know the real Light Prince."

Standing out amongst the crowd, and perhaps wearing the wrong thing in the wrong place is a seductive female wearing a feminine red demonic mask, a mask of a Succubus and an /almost/ inappropriate black leather outfit with black veils covering the areas that would otherwise be revealed. She is a beatiful blond haired woman, with seductive green eyes, and perfectly aligned teeth. She has the supermodel qualities. One of the recently appointed Ambassadors at Large by King Wasterin X, the recently enthroned King of Aerion. She stands, watching those in the crowd closely.

((Phalanix))

The bartender laughed. "Sorry, now I know you're lying. Everyone knows Alexander Duellist won his match! And he would never allow himself to be thrown in the pool."

"Well...why not just use more nuclear weapons?" The count asked, distastefully.

((Iansisle))

He took her in his arms, and smiled, happily. "What would you like to know?" Daniel asked Sarah, kissing her properly. "Let me see...I'm the Light Prince of the Divine Imperium...my mother is Kaiserin, my brother Dark Prince. I'm 24 years old..." he kissed her again, and laughed a bit. "I'm a terrible conversationalist..."

((Ian, I think Aerion wanted Peter to come pay court to her ambassador...))

“No, no!” she insisted. “You’re doing fine! But I have put you rather on the spot; how about we play a game instead? You tell me one thing I can’t find in Karlov’s Peerage, and I’ll share one of my secrets with you.”

-------

((erm, did she? Sorry if I missed the obvious clue; often, one has to bang me on the back of the head to get my attention. Though I’m not exactly sure how to start it; upper-class Shieldian males aren’t exactly known for their habits of starting casual conversation with women who would do something as risqué as displaying the skin about their ankles ;)))

Daniel blushed, a bit. "Well...um...I collect butterflies..." he laughed, putting a hand on his neck. "Only...that isn't what you meant, is it?" He said, softly, looking out once more on the desert.

The firebirds had long since flown off. There was silence between them for a while, and then Daniel spoke. "When I was...ten, I would say, I snuck out of the palace." He looked around, and pointed to a gate. "There. It was the first time I had ever been out of the palace on my own, and..." he smiled. "I got lost. I wandered the city, and soon I reached the slums...and..." he chuckled a bit. "You know, it was the first time I had ever seen poverty? Oh, and it was horrendous back then. Anyway, after I found my way back to the castle...I went to the minister and told him he should do something about it..."

Daniel smiled, ruefully. "He laughed at me...and so did all the nobles I talked to...none of them had ever made an effort..."

The female Succubus costumed delegate from Aerion stepped in a very seductive manner toward Peter of the Ianisle delegation, her hair flowing as she walked. She pulled out long black cigarette holder which held a cigarette at the end, and lit as she threw her hand in a seductive gesture to the right. She approached Peter, smiling to him from behind her demonic half-mask, "So, darling, whats your name?". She was definitely not your every day Ambassador, King Wasterin X knew how to pick them,

((Phalanix))

The bartender laughed. "Sorry, now I know you're lying. Everyone knows Alexander Duellist won his match! And he would never allow himself to be thrown in the pool."

"Well...why not just use more nuclear weapons?" The count asked, distastefully.


"Yet agian he lets pride get the better of him," Joshua says as he shakes his head "Why not ask the AI that operated Kelly's armor? I'm sure he has all the records of Kellys fights. Even though he hates me right now....heh. Well Alexander was thrown into the pool there. Hell I remember when he tried to kidnap me."

Michelle just sighs and responds "This is why they need me. Everyone is saying blow the damn planet up. What would we acomplish? All it would be proving to this rave attacking is that humans are only good at destroying everything they create or controll."

“No, no, that’s perfect,” she tried to say after the butterfly-collection comment. But she wasn’t about to cut him off if he wanted to continue. After listening to his story, she tried quickly to come up with one of her own of a similar magnitude; she had just meant to tell him about

“Oh, that’s dreadful! They just laughed?” Sarah tried to imagine the same thing happening to the Prince of Shadoran; of course, given that Dun Adien on Ian’s Isle was separated from the mainland Shield by five miles - meaning sneaking out was a bit more strenuous a proposition - made it all the more difficult. At last, she abandoned the attempt and searched for a good story with which to reply.

“I grew up in Dunerbridge,” she started at last. “That’s a tiny little town on the River Duner, about thirty miles east of Fort Jackson. When I was about fourteen, I had the deepest crush on the Earl of Dunerbridge’s son, Viscount Riveran. He was about nineteen and very dashing. I used to go watch him play football with the local boys and would cheer the loudest when he scored a goal. That happened a lot, since none of the boys wanted to stand in his way; most of the time I’d come home with a dreadful sore throat.

“Then one day, I thought he’d finally noticed me. Some big-wig Gadsani trader was passing through Fort Jackson and decided to throw a big smash for the local quality downtown rather last minute. Rivie didn’t have anyone to take, so he asked me. Peter told me not to go; my parents forbid me to go. But I was young and thought I was in love - it didn’t matter. I went. The whole drive in from Dunerbridge I was trying desperately to make a good impression; I suppose I came off more as a bit of a babbling idiot. We hadn’t even been at the ball for ten minutes when he spied some girl with more properly developed breasts and was off with her. When it was quite clear he wasn’t coming back, I ran out of the hall in tears.

“Fortunately for me, Peter, who is about six years older than I, had stolen his father’s carriage and team and drove into town after us. He drove me home, and I felt like the biggest idiot walking in to see my parents.” Sarah smiled at the memory. “They were so over-protective.”

------

Back in the main ballroom, Caesar glanced over as the woman walked over. Dark blue eyes peered from the laurel-ringed masque and glanced her up and down once. Meh. It’s always so much more attractive when they leave something to the imagination, he thought before fixing his eyes forward again.

“So, darling, whats your name?” she asked.

“Gaius Iulius Caesar,” he answered without hesitation. Most of his energy was still being used scanning the dance floor for Diana.

Daniel smiled a bit, and kissed her forehead, holding her tight to him. "Well...his lordship was obviously a heel of the first order..." he said, stroking back some of her hair. "I think you're just perfect..." the Light Prince added, hastily, trying to get a proper compliment out.

But his mind was clearly elsewhere, and as he looked out on the city, he mumbled, "and I went to see my mother, she was sympathetic, but busy, always busy...and my brother doesn't even see his family as people, what would he care for peasants...foolish to go to him...and my sister is interested only in what they can do for her..." he sighed, and then sent his mind back to the woman in his arms. "Sorry....I got mugged on memory lane..."

The white mask cringed, realizing his error. "Oh. Sorry, wasn't thinking, ma'am."

((Muktar))

The agent raised an eyebrow speculatively. "Don't lie, sir. You were thinking. What of, exactly, is not fit for me to say..." she chuckled at that. "Not my choice, really. However, I am interested as to the specifics of this trade venture you propose..."

((Phalanix))

"My dear sir, Phalanixians attempted to kidnap the Prince twice, and you attempted to do it yourself on numerous occasions. Who's been filling your head with lies?"

The count chuckled. "Why not just abandon Phalanix to these...Rave?...and go off to Reach?"

The Angealian Ambassador and his group, dressed in a variety of pirate costumes, dispersed amoung the groud. The Ambassador himself, Eric Gabriel, stopped many times on his circuit of the dance floor to complement many a pretty lady.

The Aerion female Ambassador smiled, "Ahh, well, Mr. Caesar." She smiles a seductive smile, putting her leg up slightly as she takes an elegant smoke through the black cigarette holder, "What nation are you from?"

OOC Aerion, was that question to me?

ooc: No, to Ianisle, the guy dressed as Caesar

The female Aerion Ambassador standing near the man dressed as Caesar gazes across toward the Angealian Delegation, putting her leg up slightly, "Mmm." She notices the way he works the women, but seems to have her focus upon Caesar for the moment.

dp

The white mask smirks. "I assure you, if I was thinking anything relative to that sort of thing, it would have had to do with that I should have said something less crude to someone like yourself." His eyes seem to glimmer a moment, then he blinks himself back into the conversation. "Our main industry is mining. Iron, titanium, uranium- but we don't bother with nuclear weapons. We just use the uranium for electricity."

((Muktar))

The agent raised an eyebrow speculatively. "Don't lie, sir. You were thinking. What of, exactly, is not fit for me to say..." she chuckled at that. "Not my choice, really. However, I am interested as to the specifics of this trade venture you propose..."

((Phalanix))

"My dear sir, Phalanixians attempted to kidnap the Prince twice, and you attempted to do it yourself on numerous occasions. Who's been filling your head with lies?"

The count chuckled. "Why not just abandon Phalanix to these...Rave?...and go off to Reach?"

".....I was the one he tried to kidnap. I remember clearly," Joshua replied now slightly annoyed, "The fact that I was there during several times that have been recorded wrong. And no the natiopn of Phalanix has never kidnaped him once or atempted. The fact that Roania invaded Phalanix once and an alience between the rebels and the government formed to expelle the invading forces. Also there were Phalanix troops helping defend against rebels during an uprising once here."

"......The fact that we never leave our own behind dictates against that completly. Would you leave several million people to there deaths to slow an advancing alien race bent on killing you? Well I'm sure I already know the answer to that question," she replies

((OOC:I mispelled race and didn't mean to call them rave))

Caesar took a slight note of the men dressed as pirates; his nose wrinkled at the sight of them. Piracy, to an Iansisle dependent on its foreign trade for life and greatness, was evil incarnate. Still, all the hangings in the world wouldn’t stop those of the impoverished underclass from seeking fame and fortune on the high seas; just look at Matt Arrowman, who had taken an East Gallagaman stuffed with opium right under the nose of the convoy and sold it in the Golden Quarry! He made hundreds of millions of generals and was able to retire and live like a king in some banana republic, far from the RIN’s vengeful wrath. Of course, the stories always failed to repeat the less glorious aspects of the tale, like what happened to the majority of Arrowman’s crew. Ol’ Matt may have been able to retire on a captain’s portion, but his men were forced out of hiding one by one for want of cash. The Navy has a long and terrible reach, but John Company’s is longer and more terrible. Those who met their fate on the gallows were the lucky ones.

The junior son of an ancient house of the Shield - where the aristocracy and the plutocracy were often inseparable - perhaps had more to loath about the piratical visage than anyone else. The great families of Iansisle had founded its tradition of maritime trade; they, as the investors in international shipping, had more to lose from crime on the high seas than anyone else in the High King’s realm. Had someone tried to attend a masquerade in Ianapalis dressed as a pirate, he probably would have been dismasked at once and, assuming he was of low enough birth (he’d have to be, to have the bad sense to come dressed as a pirate!) soundly thrashed by the host’s valets.

Presently, Caesar became aware of the continuing attention showered upon him by his female shadow. She had just asked him a question - what was it again? Ah yes!

“But madame! am I to presume that the answer of Rome shall not satisfy you?” he protested, laughing. The crinkling about his mouth was set into deep lines that quite defied his blue eyes, which shone with the brightness of one only nine and twenty. “Zounds! One can come to a masquerade with the purpose of anonymity, can he not?”

------

“I’m sorry I made you do that,” whispered Sarah. “I just wanted to get to know you - the real you - but I never meant you to relive unpleasant memories.”

((Grr...sorry about the long response time. Certain RL commitments have prevented me from getting more than five or ten minutes of NS time for the last whatever.))

((Iansisle))

Daniel shook his head, and smiled at her. "It's all right..." he said, flashing his perfect grin. "It's not an unpleasant memory, it's just a reminder to me..." he gently brushed a hand down Sarah's cheek. "..." a realisation came to him, suddenly. "What...what about your friend downstairs?" Daniel asked, carefully. "Peter?"

((Phalanix))

The bartender tapped his nose. "Nah, you can't fool me...it's all in the archives and Alexander's papers."

The count chuckled a bit, and then swallowed when he saw a man in a Jester's costume beckon to him. "I must beg your forgiveness, my lady..." he said, kissing her ring. "Duty calls."

((Muktar))

The agent blushed, her red cheeks proving a stark contrast to the opaque blue sunglasses she wore. "Sir, I must protest" she laughed. Then she coughed, and returned to being serious. "Titanium is always welcome here...what prices would you look for?" She shifted the white top slightly, feeling the microphone hidden within settle into a more comfortable position.

((Angeal))

The Jester watched the pirates. Coming as he did from a tradition which considered all creatures that dwelt on the sea to be evil incarnate, he found the idea of pirate costumes vaguely amusing. Still, duty calls... He snapped his fingers, and directed Finsternis, now in a Death costume, to the ambassador of Angeal, and picked for himself a rather charming look woman in the Angealan retinue.

Though she doesn't look like she has enough blood for my tastes...

"Prote- Oh, Muktar typically bases pricing off the international standard, adjusting as supply and demand require."

OOC: I have no clue how much titanium actually costs.

“Oh!” cried Sarah suddenly, pulling back slightly. “But I had lost track of time! He must be most worried!”

For how much she had eschewed Peter earlier, Sarah seemed genuinely worried.

(*rippin' frippin' ding-dong*)

(moved down)

((Muktar))

"Oh...well," she said, smiling. "Perhaps something can be arranged...why not tell me how much you want for...say...2 shipments of titanium...your price will go through my microphone..." she stretched and shook herself again, the microphone obviously causing her no small amount of discomfort, "and then someone there can tell us...what our price would be."

((Iansisle))

Daniel looked uncomfortable, but moved back and pressed the brick again with a sigh. The balcony started to slowly glide back down to ground level. "Um...how will he react?" The Light Prince asked, pulling back on his hat and sunglasses and flipping his medals back over.

((CURSE YOU, SERVER MONKEYS!))

"React?" she asked, pretending to be ignorant of Daniel's meaning.

She knew damn well how Peter would react.

Daniel handed her back her mask, and smiled wanly. Oh, dear... He paused, and kissed her briefly, just as the balcony came to a complete stop. "No matter what, Sarah, I love you," he said softly, before adjusting his hat and becoming Field Marshal Bukharin again.

EDIT: Nevermind...

The female Ambassador looked at the man costumed as Caesar, continuing her seductive eyes over his body, "Ahh, well. Caesar was a...great man." She puts particualr seductive emphasis on a great man in a Marolyn Monroe way, as she continues looking him over. "But this is a diplomatic banquet, after all." She covers her mouth, her eyes beneath her Succubus mask glancing around in a surprised schoolgirl kind of way, "But I do so like to go...undercover."

EDIT: Nevermind...

OOC: Most impressive. I never even saw what the editing thing was.

IC:

Malissa looked around, her thin spectacles perched on the end of her nose. She couldn't see either of her sons anywhere. She could see a man in a Jester Costume who could be Damien, and she did see a man in a Field Marshal's uniform who could be Daniel, but she wasn't sure. Behind her, the judges started to round up their tallies.

((that’s why they call me Lightnin’. Or, at least they do when my ISP isn’t being a bitch. It loves to do this thing where it stops working randomly and I can’t get access to any site. Then I wait for ten to fifteen minutes, and it’s fine. Grr.))

“And I love you,” whispered Sarah as she again became Diana.

Meanwhile, the temptress was doubtlessly getting a lesson in how poorly Shieldian males replied to seduction. They either blushed deeply and fled in panic as soon as decorum permit or - as Caesar was now demonstrating - completely ignored the advances.

“Indeed,” he replied dryly, “However, I often find that, in diplomacy, a certain degree of ignorance can go a long way in making things exciting.” Suddenly, Caesar perceived some movement on the far side of the dance floor.

Bukharin looked around the room, and then spotted the Roman Emperor. He paused, and then started to nonchalantly walk towards Caesar, holding Diana's hand loosely. When the two of them reached Caesar, he released her, and smiled warily, thinking that Diana should probably speak first, as he was sure he'd just botch up.

As Bukharin approached, the Aerion Ambassador looked him up, and down through the eye slits of the demonic Succubus mask though only for a moment before she gave him a very polite diplomatic smile. "Well, hello there." She also gave a polite nod, and a smile to Diana.

Peter took one or two halting steps towards them. The holding of hands - something that simply wasn't done at Iansislean balls, even between married couples - gave him pause, the sort of pause that dies and stays in the pit of one's stomach. Briefly, his craggy face bunched up, but the expression was gone as soon as it appeared.

"Hello, Peter," said Diana. She couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Begging madame's pardon," he said without inflection, "but the hour grows late. Surely you are becoming weary?"

EDIT: The hour grows wait? Heh, I think the hour's growing wait out here ;)

Daniel gave a brief look at the woman wearing the succubi costume, and then turned back to Peter, leaving the words 'brazen hussy' in his actions, rather than actually saying them. The Field Marshal coughed, and, in the Aguan accent said, "Begging your excellency's pardon, but it is only 22:10..." He gestured to some seats. "Please, sit down...firstly, I think I should..." he paused, and looked over at the woman he loved for support, "Um...dispense with this costume..."

The Aerionian Ambassador looked the man up and down, raising an eyebrow from behind the mask, able to read his body language as she is a trained mistress. She glances back over toward "Caesar". She smiles toward Daniel diplomatically, "Lovely party you are having here, dahling." She stands in a confident, albeit seductive manner, "His Majesty, King Wasterin X of Aerion, sends his greetings to you. It is why he sent me." She giggles a bit at her own joke.

Caesar made as if to check a pocket watch. Of course, there was none hidden in the folds of his toga. He looked from the field marshal to Diana and back again, his expression uncertain. He sat down heavily in one of the offered seats.

Diana reached out one hand to him, but pulled it back short. She felt Daniel’s eyes and looked up at him with a small smile. He’ll understand, it seemed to say.

Then she removed her masque.

Daniel rolled his cap off of his head, and then placed his sunglasses into a pocket. Once more, he swapped his medals for the Firebird badge. Once again, he went from being Field Marshal to Light Prince.

"Allow me to introduce myself, Mr. Caesar..." Daniel said, bowing. "I am Light Prince Daniel Edward Black...and..." he looked over at Sarah, his words frozen. "Yes...you see...here in the Divi...what I'm trying to say is..." he gave up, and collapsed into another chair.

The Aerionian Ambassador takes another smoke of her cigarette from the long black cigarette holder, and then looks toward Daniel. She appraises him now that he changes, "Light Prince, what would that entail?" She stares at him as he collapses into the chair.

((Phalanix))

The bartender tapped his nose. "Nah, you can't fool me...it's all in the archives and Alexander's papers."

The count chuckled a bit, and then swallowed when he saw a man in a Jester's costume beckon to him. "I must beg your forgiveness, my lady..." he said, kissing her ring. "Duty calls."


"Why not ask someone who was there? And the fact that pride got the better of him....like always. The fact the man tried to kill me, kidnap me. His sister nearly killed my sister when they met. And the fact that I could easly prove you wrong but it would cause more harm than good to me," Joshua replies swiftly.

"Well thank yo for the wonderful dance," Michelle says before the count leaves slightly blushing now. She slowly starts walking back towards the bar wondering if anyone else would try and step in.

Sarah looked on in horror as the two men for whom she cared most in the world - one as a lover, and the other as the brother she never had - faced each other in mute shock while some shameless hussy actively pursued the man she loved.

“I’m Peter Longwell,” said Caesar at last. “But I guess you all ready knew that, eh?”

"Indeed I did, Mr. Longwell..." Daniel said, carefully. He was already aware that people were staring, but when they saw the Firebird badge, they looked away, rapidly. "It's...yes, you see..." he noticed the Aeronian and blinked. "Ah, yes...be a good dear and put on something more...covering, yes?" He asked, thankful for a distraction.

That done, he turned back to Peter. "Mr. Longwell, things are...um...yes..." he sighed. "Look, there are certain things in..." he couldn't say it. This man could bring up all sorts of arguements against him. 'we consider arranged marriages wrong', I could say. And he could say, 'funny, we consider wife-stealing wrong'. I could say, 'I love her', and he could say, 'funny...I thought her husband did too.'

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” exclaimed Sarah at last as Peter also fumbled for words. “Peter, you’ve never had anything but my best interests at heart. Thank you for that.”

He tried to gape out a ‘you’re welcome.’

“I know you think it’s in my best interest that I go back to that half-dead lunk of a man to whom father forced my hand.” She paused to let Peter blink in surprise. So much for the supposed tact and subtlety attributed to well-bred Shieldian women. “But Peter, I love Daniel,” Sarah finished at last.

Daniel blinked in surprise himself, and looked over at Sarah, patting her hand gently. He then turned back to Peter, and coughed, gaining strength. "Yes...you see, Mr. Longwell... in..." in this Divine Imperium, that marriage is, in point of fact, completely illegal, and...no. Mr. Longwell, I...look, I love Sarah, and... He sighed, and continued. "Mr. Longwell...I know this probably...doesn't make sense to you...but...I love Sarah, and...and I'd never hurt her, or..." he realised he was rambling, and paused. It wouldn't be so bad if Peter would say something...he made a brief signal with his hand when a guard looked over, and the guard walked away hurriedly, leaving his master in peace.

“I’m afraid you’re right, Your Highness,” said Peter. “This doesn’t make a lick of sense.” His voice gained strength as he spoke, the strength of one who thought himself right.

“Sarah,” he said, directing himself towards her, “I think it’s ...absolutely touching, these feelings you two have for one another. Honestly. And I do hate to be the wet blanket, but...” Peter searched for words, one calloused hand rubbing against his weathered chin.

“But,” he finished at last, “You did swear, in the house of God and under His eyes, to love and cherish John until death do you part.”

Daniel now raised an eyebrow. "Yes, you see...that's an interesting thing. I can find twenty Priests within ten minutes walk from here who view arranged marriages as slavery...and in Imperial Law, that's exactly what it is..." he coughed, apologetically, realising that he was rambling once more. "Sorry. Different cultural mores..."

A steely gaze entered into his eye, the contempt all Roanians felt for slavery welling within him. "But...well..." Shoot. I blew it...of course, all I have to do is wave my hand, and John Caddick is under arrest for human rights abuses, but that'd be nice, wouldn't it...going to war over an arranged marriage.

He looked over at Sarah, and his resolve strengthened. But there seemed little he could do... Almost everyone else in Western Civilisation dropped arranged marriages...why can't the Shieldians...then... Blast it.

“Slavery...is a very strong word, Your Highness,” replied Peter, picking his words carefully. Iansisle, always a land of contradictions, tempered its arranged marriages, the East Gallaga Company, and horrendous workers’ rights record with a fierce abolitionist sentiment. There’s been neither slave nor serf in Iansisle, politicians liked to brag, usually while extolling traditional Shieldian liberties during election campaigns, in nigh-on two hundred years!

“However, you’re quite right, Your Highness,” he continued, “when you say there are differences between our cultures. For instance, if I were to ask any priest on the Shield, from the Archbishop of Adien on down, he would say that Sarah and John’s marriage is perfectly legal.

“I may be out of place here,” he added, “but Sarah and John’s marriage took place and was consummated on the Shield - and under the laws of the Empire. Besides, Sarah, it’s not as though your father or John marched you down the aisle with a shotgun.”

Sarah’s eyes were starting to fill with tears.

“I was there, Sarah,” Peter added gently. “I remember.”

Daniel nodded, carefully. Then he chose his words even more carefully, and looked at Sarah. "Slavery seems to be just the word for it..." he looked over at Peter, and then at Sarah. And I suppose they don't allow women the vote...or, if they do, claim to be doing so just to make amends... His heart broke when he looked at Sarah. I think there needs to be a reckoning, but it's not my place to decide that.

"Your Priests would, of course, not have to obey the encyclical of our Patriarch which ordered all priests in Novar Ohan to annul arranged marriages..." Daniel said, musingly. "But let me ask you...and forgive me if I seem rude, but we're fairly direct people here...as a man...an honourable man, a good man...and as Sarah's friend...is it in her best interests to return to the Ambassador? I'm not asking you to defend your culture, I'm asking you to give me an honest answer." He looked over at Sara, pleading with her to hold her peace.

And after Mr. Longwelll here has said what he has to say, then...I'll ask her. As much as he hated doing it...hated it more than anything else...he was starting to agree with his brother on certain things.

“Allow women the vote?” asked an incredulous politician back on the Shield when the Widows of Salvador - which had turned in ten short years from an anti-war protest group to a women’s rights organization - asked him that very question. “Why, the very notion!”

“Quite preposterous,” agreed his companion, puffing on an ivory-handled pipe.

“You have to admit, m’dear, that the fairer sex has neither the training nor the capacity to make an educated political decision.”

“Indeed - I fear giving women the vote would only serve to double the votes of married men,” added the second.

“Hardly fair to those bachelors among us, wouldn’t you agree? No, no, m’dear - please don’t worry your pretty little head about complex issues like this one,” concluded the first, terminating the interview.

-----

“As her friend,” Peter repeated softly, looking from Daniel to Sarah and back again.

At last, he focused his eyes on Daniel. “You have to understand, before I say this, just where I’m coming from. I don’t like some of our ideas about holy matrimony any more than you do. But they’re just that - our ideas. The ideas held by nearly everyone on the Shield. If ...if word of what has transpired here ever becomes public knowledge, Sarah would never be welcomed again by her own people.”

A tear ran down Sarah’s fair cheek, but Peter pressed on.

“She’d be eschewed by all of society. IanCorp has a way of doing that. I’m not saying that it’s right or wrong - just describing how it is. She’d never be able to go home again. Never be able to see the sun rise of the Marches. Never be able to wade barefoot into the Duner again. Never be able to sit in the grass under the shade of a broad Shieldian oak eating an apple and trading gossip.”

Sarah was crying now.

“Her family would disown her. Her husband would demand satisfaction. Her friends would shy away from her and the social stigma. Her church would excommunicate her.” Peter sighed. “It’s two lousy choices, but it’s the only two we have.”

Daniel nodded slowly as Peter spoke. With a brief sigh, he looked heavenwards. "I see..." his voice was low, cold, and controlled. His eyes were dead now, though when he looked back at Sarah, they softened momentarily, his soul reaching out to her, begging forgiveness...

briefly. Very briefly. Because when they looked at Peter, the Light Prince's eyes burned with an intense, white-hot, angry fire. When he spoke, it was in a voice used to command, to immediate obedience. Because that's the difference between the Grand Empire, and the Divine Imperium.

In the first, people were restricted, very much so, by society. Yet they could debate with their leaders.

In the second, people could do almost anything they wanted. But when a higher ranking man spoke, they damn well did immediately what he said, and thanked God when he found no fault in their work.

Daniel's voice now held the tone that had caused ministers to quail from his grandfather, and now was used by his brother the Dark Prince when he wanted to cause fear and dread. But it wasn't directed at Peter. Nor was it directed at his culture, as misguided and over-due for demolition as it might be.

It was directed almost entirely at himself. "I see..." he whispered, coldly. "It seems I was mistaken...look at you." He said to Peter now, his anger dimming and being mixed with weariness. "Here I am...Light Prince of the Divine Imperium...near-absolute master of the lives and livelihood of hundreds of millions of men...and I'm thwarted in this." The irony seemed to reach him, because he chuckled drily. "Thwarted in this...what every man should be able to claim success in, I, one of the highest, am thwarted in..." he shook his head. "in...in love... for one minute, one actual minute, I thought I had actually found something worthwhile in this miserable existence..." now the chuckle was revealed to be a choking cough, and hot tears ran, briefly, down his face. "Well...no. No, I guess not..." He rose from his seat, briefly.

His words and voice returned to normal, masking the deep pain and he looked briefly at Sarah. "I could never ask you to choose...my love...and there is only one honourable course open to me..." he sighed, his meaning travelling across without even saying it, what he intended clear in his next actions, because he drew the baton once more, and a slight flash of metal glinted when the light fell upon the top of it. He turned to go.

OOC: Actually, maybe we should discuss this before you respond...if it seems too...melodramatic or something, then I'll edit it...

pleasechooseanoptionthatdoesn'tinvolvemekillinghim

((ooc: Bah, who cares about melodrama? It’s fun! ;)))

Sarah, who had recoiled from Daniel’s harsh tones, watched with moist eyes as he launched into a half-mumbled monologue. Her mouth flapped open once or twice wordlessly.

When he drew baton, both Peter and Sarah jumped slightly. So much for the gay-hearted attitude that supposedly prevailed at masquerades!

“Y-you don’t intend what I think you do?” asked Sarah to Daniel’s back as he turned to leave. “Do you?”

Daniel paused. And then, silently, he moved off. "Goodbye, Sarah..." he said, carefully. And he chuckled a bit, even now. "Looks like 'they' were wrong...or maybe it's a specific number of firebirds that's meant to be lucky..."

He moved off, through the laughing, dancing crowd. Guards moved to follow him, but he waved them off.

Sarah stopped, one hand reached longingly after him. She wasn’t sure what to make of the half-rebuke.

Peter came up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders - an intensely physical gesture, even for two old friends. Sarah, however, didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh, Peter,” she gasped. “You don’t think he’ll do anything too rash, do you?”

“It’s hard to tell,” admitted Peter. “He’s a man of deep and complex divisions.”

“Oh, shut up, Peter,” she said with sudden bitterness. “You always rush to play amatuer shrink. He’s a perfectly wonderful man - I know he is. But --” she added in a more tender voice as Daniel reached the exit. “You will go after him, won’t you, Peter? Make sure he doesn’t - you know.”

“I do,” sighed Peter. He gave Sarah’s shoulder a quick squeeze. “I met this man - Blackwood, I think. He’s the minister of foreign affairs designate. Go see if you can find him; he was at the bar in a pirate costume.” Somehow, Peter managed to sound comforting while still putting the proper amount of spite into the last words. “He’s a decent enough sort. Have him take you back to the embassy - or, no. Have him take you to my flat.”

And then Peter turned and hurried out the door after Daniel. Sarah spun around and looked for men in pirate costumes.

Daniel was leaning against a desert tree in the garden, idly examining the sharp blade that had popped out of his baton. Something told him he was being rash, but he wouldn't...couldn't... live without Sarah having met her. And now...now...he couldn't force her to choose, either.

He knew she would probably choose him...but he couldn't live with that. So...all he had to do...was hold the baton to his heart, and release the blade.

Simple, when you thought of it... he heard someone from behind him, and listened carefully for the sound of their footsteps. Without turning around he said, "Can I help you, Mr. Longwell?" Bitterness, hatred, and pain were all fairly evident in his voice. "If not..."

========

It was a simple matter for her to spot Blackwood. He was dressed as a blackbearded pirate, and was talking to a woman whose face was recognisable to anyone who had ever handled Imperial Marks...

Kaiserin Malissa Black I.

so jetgriffithsland here just sayin hello by the way did u know that i am evil :twisted:

Peter paused at the acid in Daniel’s voice. “Well, yes, Your Highness, I think you can. Sarah’s terribly worried about you.”

He noted the glint of the blade in the moonlight. “She’s afraid you’ll do something rash.”

---

Sarah gulped at the sight of to whom Blackbeard - Blackwood was talking. She almost lost her nerve and turned around, but it was too late; they had seen her angling towards them. She faltered in step slightly and almost turned away, but instead accessed a deep reserve and kept putting one foot in front of the other.

“Your Highness,” she said with just a slight tremble in her voice. “Minister Blackwood. Please, I beg your pardon for interrupting..” Sarah trailed off. Now that she thought of it, her question for Blackwood seemed ludicrously stupid.

"I see..." Daniel sighed. "Rash it may be, Mr. Longwell..." he said, softly. "But I consider anything I do to be the lesser of two evils..." the Light Prince sighed. "If it's as bad as all that...then..." he did turn around, and met Longwell's eyes. "then...what would you have of me?...lie to her? Lie to me?" He rolled his eyes. "Tell you I feel that your culture has certain...benefits, and needs to be protected?...tell me, Mr. Longwell. Have you ever been in love?"

===========

Blackwood almost dropped his glass at the thought of anyone interupting a conversation with Her Imperial Highness the Kaiserin... but he recovered splendidly. "Can I help you..." he looked her up and down. "Hrmm...I'd say...Shieldian...probably from...I'd say the Westlands, maybe... and..."

He was very, very, politely elbowed aside by Malissa, who seemed to have sensed something being wrong. "Madame, is something wrong?" She asked, her voice gentle.

((I was typing out a response to this, and then internet explorer crashed out of spite. 'I don't need to bother typing this on appleworks!' I thought, 'it should only be a couple paragraphs long.' But no!

So, in other words, I'm going to bed. That's just too much stress to deal with when I'm about ready to pass out. ;)))

((All right, night!))

The white mask scratches the back of his head. "In all honesty, I'm more here to make arrangements for this sort of thing. I'm more of a mingler than a businessman."

Peter stopped next to the tree and plopped his hands into his pockets. “I know you could never ask Sarah to give up everything she knows. No man should be forced to do that.” He sighed. “But there’s always another way out. Always.”

He made as if to put a hand on Daniel’s shoulder, paused, and retracted it. “Sarah’s a smart girl, and strong, too. I’ve known her almost my entire life. And, for better or worse, she’s completely in love with you.” The admission sounded tough. “There’s nothing I want more in this world that for her to be happy.”

Peter half-smiled. “There are going to be some tough decision made tonight. If I know Sarah, she’s probably trying to make up her mind right now - regardless of whether you asked her to or not. And I have a feeling I know how she’ll decide.”

----

Sarah would have smiled at Blackwood and told him he was right if the situation was a little less dire. Here was the mother of the man she loved, who was right now doing God knows what to himself in the garden. Peter had said that he could and would handle the situation, and Sarah had faith in him - but, oh God! what she had wrought!

And now, confronted with this maternal presence, Mrs Sarah Caddick’s final defenses broke down. The conflicting thoughts and prayers which had been brewing up within her, from Daniel and Peter’s argument to the trauma of watching the Light Prince storm out the door with little more than a ‘goodbye!’ welled up her throat and spilled from her mouth.

She related the whole story, from their first dance to the kiss on the balcony under the firebirds to the less-than-happy return. She told of her feeling for and worries about Daniel. She told how he had stomped out with Peter trailing, and of the wild, if sad, look in his eyes. The rambling, semi-coherent story was marred by spots of sobbing and tears in the particularly emotional spots.

((dude you're forgetting me))

OOC: Oh, don't tell me that...please, don't tell me that, Phal...shit.

(Phalanix)

The bartender looked up. "Well, sir...here she comes...now or never."

(Muktar)

"Sir, you honestly can't tell me a man as charming as you couldn't get prices..." the agent said, smiling under the sunglasses, looking up at him.

(Iansisle)

Daniel blinked, blearily. The Light Prince sighed softly, and turned around, only partially seeing Peter. He chuckled, ruefully, still pained inside by what he had done. "...I've made a right arse out of myself..." he said, his eyes closing, worried now. He looked at Peter, and sighed. "I love her...and I could never do any harm to her..." the Light Prince had little more to say, instead looking at Peter's eyes. There was no sign of the Prince...no noble, no soldier.

Just a man, a man deeply concerned about the woman he loves.

==========

Now Blackwood did drop his glass, the crystal scattering across the hard floor. Malissa blinked, and then shook her head, her thoughts remaining within herself. When she did speak, though, she wasn't angry. Nor was she the commanding ruler of the Divine Imperium. She reached out, and gently brushed the tears from Sarah's face, smiling softly. "And how do you feel about my son?" She asked her, softly, and then, two seconds later, she answered her own question. "You love him..."

The Kaiserin had faith in her children, and she was sure that Daniel wasn't going to do anything too...drastic to himself. "And he loves you..." the Kaiserin said, half to herself. I'd send John out after him, but he needs to learn to deal with these things, without parental support...

But even more than she had faith in her children, she had faith in her people. And she was sure, that if this charming young woman chose, that they'd accept her. But Sarah had to choose...there was not going to be any attempt to force her into something here.

Peter’s honest blue eyes gazed back at Peter, never breaking contact.

“No, Your Highness, you haven’t. Made an arse out of yourself, that is. You’ve acted like any human being might under these trying circumstances.”

This time he did reach out and put a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “But now you need to buck up and go to her. She needs you, especially now.” Peter sighed. “You and Sarah have something special, even I’ll admit it. Something that needs to be tended with care, not watered with blood.”

On an interesting and perhaps completely irrelevant side note, Iansisleans actually had no tradition of suicide. They looked upon it, much like the classical Greeks, as the last resort of the weak and mad. By way of contrast, enormous Effit, which dominated the Commonwealth’s eastern frontier, had a long and rich history of men falling on their own swords at the least sign of personal or professional failings, often at the request of their superiors.

--------

Sarah was a little too distraught to notice the breaking glass or really answer any of the Kaiserin’s questions with more than a nod. She forgot all about asking to be taken to Peter’s flat in the sudden flood of emotion.

Daniel nodded, to Peter, and clasped his hand. "Thank you, Mr. Longwell..." He said, as he turned to re-enter the crowded ball room. "If you ever need anything...anything at all that is within my power to grant, then you may call upon me."

Daniel walked back inside, and cast his eyes around the room, looking for the woman he loved. He saw her, standing by his mother, the tears on her cheeks visible even from this vantage point. He pushed through the crowd, and towards her.

She hadn't seen him yet, and he managed to get behind her, sighing, taking her in his arms loosely, and then holding her to his chest when she turned around and started to cry. He did too, tears dripping down his face. "God...I'm so sorry, Sarah...I just...didn't want to hurt you..."

Peter shook Daniel’s hand. “I’m just glad my ramblings could be of some help. I often have trouble expressing just what’s going on in my head.” Or my heart.

Inside, Sarah gladly collapsed into Daniel’s embrace. “I thought I was going to lose you, Daniel,” she whispered, squeezing him tightly. “I couldn’t bear that, not now, not ever.”

She pulled back slightly, her eyes still puffy and red. “Daniel, I said I love you more than the sun and the moon and the stars. I meant it. Well, I’ve been thinking: I love you more than the Shield, too. Much, much more. Let IanCorp gossip. I won't care if you won't.”

Daniel held her closely, and smiled at her now. "I...god...I don't know what to say..." his grip tightened around her, and he kissed her. "Let that corporation," he injected an incredible amount of scorn into that word, "say what it wants...it will find that the Divine Imperium has a very direct way of dealing with people who interfere with things that are none of their business."

He kissed the woman he loved and held her close to him.

Malissa, meanwhile, was talking to Blackwood. "Charles, I want the Ambassador from the Grand Empire put on a plane from Port Agua, and sent here immediately...and have my Minister of Justice and Palace Chaplain waiting for him..."

The white mask chuckled lightly. "Not here at the moment, I can't. Afterword at a place where I can speak with the industry division, then I could. Things are ra- you think I'm charming?"

Sarah couldn’t but smile as Daniel assailed the greatest force to hit social gossip since Gutenberg's press with complete impunity. She kissed him, more passionately than any Shieldian woman had kissed her lover since those wild and barbaric days before the Empire.

Meanwhile, John Caddick was quite asleep in his private apartments in the Iansislean Embassy. He remained blissfully unaware of the goings-on; last he had seen of lovely Sarah, she was retiring to her chambers with her maids.

That which troubled the his slumbering excellency even less than the current whereabouts of his blushing bride was that even now a grand ball was taking place. He had his orders most explicit! from my Lord Inswick: there was to be no contact beyond everyday business between the Ambassador of the Grand Empire and Its Commonwealth and the officials of the Divine Imperium.

((Iansisle))

The IIIS Stormtroopers awaited the dawn patiently. The order was simple and to the point, but they had no wish to wake the Ambassador now. As was usual, they hadn't been told anything about the plans, or the reasons why this was taking place.

Blackwood, however, was not at all pleased. "My lady, this is dangerous ground you're treading on..." He squeaked when Malissa looked at him.

"Oh, really...should I charm him into divorcing her himself? Or should I trick him into admitting he had a contract..." She made no pretence of even listening to her foreign minister. The Kaiserin had made up her mind, and pity the man, woman, or god who tried to change it.

"Well...what about the IanCorp HQ in WhiteHarbour?" Blackwood asked, hurriedly, referring to the largest port in the Divine Imperium on the White Sea. "Surely the company..."

She turned around, and regarded him with amazement. "Is this the Grand Empire? Or is this the Divine Imperium? Am I Kaiserin Malissa Black of Novar Ohan, or King James of Iansisle? Think before answering."

Blackwood stuttered, "My lady, IanCorp could scotch the defence pact and the..."

"If that corporation tries to interfere with our internal matters as it does in Iansisle, I will break it in the same way my father broke the Guilds and Costers..." Malissa returned to her previous train of thought. "Now...Caddick seemed like a reasonable man..."

Blackwood closed his eyes, feeling his hopes just wafting away on the desert breeze...goodbye, Noble Peace Prize...goodbye, chance to be named Lord Peacemaker...

Down below, Daniel was also a bit taken aback by the sheer...force of Sarah's kiss, but he recovered and responded with equal power, though with slightly less fervent activity. As they broke, he smiled to her, and said, "I love you, Sarah...and...and...I'd do anything for you..."

((Muktar))

The agent laughed and brushed a hand across the mask. "Of course..." she did a complicated movement with her torso, and there was a soft, muffled, beeping noise. "Don't you think so?"

The next morning, John Caddick arose and went about his usual morning tasks. That Sarah was nowhere to be found didn’t trouble him; some mornings, she preferred to sleep in. Outside, the usual assortment of Royal Fusiliers guarded the embassy.

Sarah giggled and lay one finger gently on Daniel’s nose. “Be careful what you promise,” she laughed. “I’ve the strangest hankering for the head of St John the Baptist.”

Daniel looked thoughtful. "What my lady wants...though I was hoping you'd say something more like 'all the stars in the world for a necklace'." He brushed back her hair, and bent down and met her lips once more, kissing her. "I honestly don't think...I've ever been this happy..."

The stormtroopers had almost fallen asleep on their post, though one of them was still watching the royal fusiliers. "Think we can take 'em?" He asked his companion, who responded with a deliberately sharp cuff to the back of the head.

"Not our job...we just are to politely bring His Excellency to the Stronghold..."

((not really sure what you want me to do with Caddick...will the stormtroopers be knocking at the gate, or shall I have him walk out?))

“Maybe you can just get me that too,” giggled Sarah before they kissed again. “No, Daniel, there’s just one thing I want right now, more than all the jewels and spices of Gallaga. You, and only you.”

((Up to you.))

Damien held her waist, and kissed her again and again, smiling with love in between kisses. Finally, he said, a grin wide on his face, "that enough?"

Caddick stepped out on the embassy’s broad porch. He usually wasn’t one to smoke alone, but the beautiful morning tempted him to withdraw the fine Gallagan cigar stored in his robe’s front pocket.

“Barton?” he called suddenly.

“Your Excellency?” The butler was at his side almost immediately.

“Is Mrs Caddick awake?”

“I - don’t know, Your Excellency. Shall I check her chambers?”

“No, no. Strange for her to sleep this late - and a shame for her to miss this lovely sunrise.” He drew a deep breath. “After that posting to the Company, I never thought I’d draw breath this fresh again.” Barton wisely held his tongue. “That’ll be all. Thank you, Barton,” Caddick finished, dismissing the servant.

------

The real, burning passion of love is not something that comes naturally to the Shieldian aristocracy. Once it hit, however, it crashed through the gate with a fiery aggression unmatched on any battlefield and roared through the discretions of even the most proper gentleman or lady.

“I hope I shall never have enough,” murmured Sarah, running a hand up Daniel’s arm. “Never in a -” they kissed again “- thousand million years.”

The stormtroopers made their move, walking their way up to the gate and pressing the buzzer. "Sir? We have been asked to take you to the Stronghold and Palace immediately," one of the more impetuous IIIS men said over his Commissar.

Always a direct approach...

========

Daniel kissed the palm of her hand and smiled at her lovingly. "Anything..." he repeated, putting his arm around her and holding her close. "Anything you want from me...it will be yours..." he kissed her again and again. "I love you more than life itself...more than my title...more than anything and everything..."

As usual, the buzzers in an Iansislean construct were designed more to scare their users witless than alert them. Also as usual, Caddick did not condescend to answer it himself - fortunately, Burton was, once again as usual, in just the right place.

At the front gate, the stormtroopers might find the Royal Fusiliers a much different proposition than the marines and sailors with whom they might have dealt with in the past. Where the naval services emphasized everything that was brave and noble about the Shieldian character, the Army clearly exposed the shiftless, greedy nature of the same. They stood about in general confusion or apathy and watched the scene unfold.

“The Stronghold? The Palace?” asked Caddick, rushing to his room. “Great heavens, Burton, it must be an interview with Her Highness herself! Hurry, get my clothes ready! and raise Sarah, this is most important!”

After a frenzied readiness, His Excellency the Ambassador from the Iansislean Commonwealth presented himself at the front gate, albeit making apologies for his wife’s conspicuous and unexplainable absence.

------

His wife, meanwhile, was very comfortable in the arms of her lover, which is where we shall leave them for now...

The stormtrooper Commissar nodded, and smiled. "No need to apologise on her behalf, Your Excellency..." The Imperial Internal Investigation Service Stormtroopers weren't here to pass judgement on the Shieldian 'army'.

They'd leave that to the Legionnaires next time someone held a war-game... hell, the Roanian Guards, the ceremonial soldiers, could beat this lot.

"We must move, an aero-transport has been specially chartered..."

==========

Within a matter of hours, the transport was landing at the Imperial Desert Airport, and a specially chartered limousine with Roanian Guards on standby awaited. "This way, sir..."

Caddick certainly didn’t resist - he had no reason to - but his constant preening might annoy his captors, or escorts, or whatever they thought of themselves as.

He stooped into the limo with no complaints - “Mighty fine auto-mobile!” - and allowed them to drive him where they might.

The red uniformed ceremonial soldiers didn't answer his remark, instead concentrating on the controls of the limousine. There was a moment of confusion, and finally the black automobile took off.

Roanian Guards closely resembled their antecedents, the Cossacks at the court of the Czars. As the car entered the city walls, mounted Guardsmen occasionally could be seen on traditional patrol routes in the distance. Green uniformed Roanian Staatspolizei were more evident.

The Stronghold was clearly jumpy when seen from below, and the domes and spires seemed to hold watching eyes. At night, seen from a high vantage point, the modern Imperial Capital was a fairy-tale city, in a way that the ancient and now mostly ruined capital of Tarnaqin never had been.

During the day, it retained that feeling. But what type of fairy-tale?

That was the question that inevitably fell upon all visiting foreigners as they took the boulevard to the central palace, a large Kremlin in the style so beloved by the architects of this desert waste. Imperial flags and standards hung listlessly in the dry air at the gate, and the impression was of a palace in perpetual siesta. The limousine slowed to a halt, and the door was opened.

The portal into the palace was up a flight of carefully hewn stairs, carved from the very desert it seemed.

The quiet professionalism of the drivers seemed to grate on Caddick’s nerves at first. However, he quickly settled back and produced the front section of the Ianapalis Star-Tribune - which he had delivered to the embassy, at great expense - and started reading.

The magnificent sights rolling past the window didn’t really draw his attention; as Caddick loved to remind Sarah, he was a diplomat, damn it, not a tourist!

Several liveried servants waited for the Ambassador to leave the limousine through the now open door. At the top of the stairs, Blackwood watched from the shadows, silently rehearsing what he was going to say.

~~

Dark Prince Damien Black had been paying particularly close attention to the comings and goings in the palace this morning. He stepped through the marble halls and found a vantage point from which to observe the entrance of the Shieldian Ambassador. 'Where is my brother...' he thought, sure that this had something to do with the Light Prince.

Caddick walked good-naturedly up the stairs, looking about for the next step on his odyssey.

((heh, sorry. Couldn’t come up with anything more insightful.))

(('sokay.))

Malissa watched from a tower, and turned to the waiting Sarah. "Miss Sarah...how would you like us to handle this?" The Kaiserine asked, gently. "Are you sure...?"

~~

Blackwood gave a perfunctory bow when the ambassador walked up the steps. "Ah, Your Excellency...I am so glad you came on such short notice..."

Sarah wasn’t sure what emotions ran through her as she saw her betrothed walking up the path. It certainly wasn’t love, but neither was it hate. It was - something in between. She could never love that man, but she couldn’t bring herself to hate him either.

“I don’t want him to be harmed,” Sarah said finally. “I just want to divorce him and be done with it.”

---

“Minister,” replied Caddick, returning the bow. “No matter the notice, I could never forgo the honor of a royal summons.”

"I see..." Malissa straightened her tiara, and sighed. 'Well...bad cop, worse cop...' she thought as she left the tower, curtseying to Sara as she went. "We'll do our best... and it's not like we could harm him..."

Daniel just sighed as he watched John walk into the palace with Blackwood. '...is this right?'

~~

Blackwood laughed, and gestured within. "Quite...Her Imperial Highness is most anxious to talk to you..."

The entry hall had been cleaned from the masquerade ball, and its marble gleamed under the immense golden dome. Blackwood pointed to the stairs, and smiled wanly. "I'm afraid that elected officials such as myself are not allowed up there unless invited by a noble, much like they are only allowed into the House of Burghers if invited by us... you're on your own..."

"We'll do our best... and it's not like we could harm him..."

Sarah almost extended her definition from physical pain to the loss of prestige withing the Minsitry of Foreign Affairs, but stopped herself. She didn't know Marissa quite well enough to start mouthing off to royalty.

"Thank you, Your Highness," she said instead.

----

"I understand completely," said Caddick to Blackwood, extending a hand for shaking. "Thank you."

After the hand shake, he turned and climbed the stairs.

The atmosphere subtly changed as Caddick walked up the stairs, and into the palace proper. No longer in the public areas, he was now in a section few foreigners had ever seen.

There was only one way to go, and that was forward, through an immense oak door...which slid aside as servants opened it from within the second he reached it. Long rows of benches filled the room, leading to a single great golden throne. Every seat had a coat of arms decorating it and a family name. Almost every seat was occupied. Cool eyes regarded Caddick as he walked along the red carpet.

At the far end of the rows were four large chairs. One blue, one red, one green, one white. Darquis. Von Agua. Al'Roan. Those were the names on the bottom of each throne. These names were faded, though, and instead there were new names on the backing. Derricks. Agua. Altara. Roan. Of all the ancient lineages, only the Darquis and Von Aguas still survived. The thrones and benches of this House of Nobles had been taken from the ancient Imperial Palace in Tarnaqin. Some of them were in decay. Others were brand new. But none of them had been altered or removed, besides the four for each city-state. Noble families long lost and destroyed still had seats on this bench. Only an expert could see that the throne with Altara written upon it was brand new, crafted from two previous thrones.

The golden throne was another matter...over the countless years of the shattered empire, it had been restored and re-restored. The writing at the bottom was unreadable, though the word "Drak'harn" could be made out.

At the top, though, was one name. An almost simple name, but one that held reverberations throughout the Imperium. For two previous generations, the name had held an entire continent in fear. Black.

Currently sitting on this golden throne, though, was a small, platinum-blonde woman. Her expression was one of warmth as she rose benevolently while a servant exclaimed, "The Princess of the Principality of Roania, the Overlady of the Grand Duchy of Agua, Liege-Lady of the Archduchy of Derricks, the Lady Protector of the People's Internal Republic of Altara. Tsarina of the Sunset Isles. Mistress of the Empire in Africa. Kaiserine of Novar Ohan. Her Imperial Highness, Malissa Lucille Black." He took a deep breath. Malissa seemed almost bored with her titles, bored with the whole pageantry.

Everyone in the room rose and bowed at the end of the long list of titles. She curtseyed to each side. "Who has come to my throne?"

The servant coughed. "His Excellency the honourable ambassador of His Most Shieldian Majesty to the Court of Saint Michael, John Caddick!"

Caddick bowed deeply as his training had taught him was due royalty.

He stood again and determined to be careful with his words. Careful observation on his six months in Roania had shown that anyone who mouthed off to the local leaders would not meet with a fate as leniant as that they would on the Shield.

“I have received your summons, Your Highness,” he said clearly, “and am most honored that I may be of service to you.”

"Why, I am honoured by your presence, Master Caddick." Malissa started, but, as planned, she was interrupted.

"My lady, I do object most strongly to the presence of this base rogue in this most grand House of Nobles!" The persnickety voice of Lord Karsingrad burst over her soft voice.

Malissa rounded on him, as did many of the other nobles. "Do explain yourself, my lord of Karsingrad." She asked, a hint of menace beneath her words.

The Baron played his part expertly. "The perfidy of the Shieldians is a racial stereotype often bandied about in the lower orders...but not one which I gave much credit to, until recently...it has come to my attention, though, that not only do the Shieldians practice slavery, but that their own ambassador is a slaveholder!"

Malissa gave a gasp that was only partly feigned. Around the room the other nobles (and retainers, not every noble being bothered to constantly travel to the capital) broke into loud conversation, none of them aware of what was secretly going on.

Malissa turned to face Caddick, her face pale. "Sir, how do you explain these allegations?...do you know what it is that the lord of Karsingrad is referring to? If he lies, speak now and I will have him punished in any manner you desire."

The words hit Caddick like a physical blow. His mouth opened and closed without words as the Baron’s words washed over him. He soon recovered; one did not make as prestigious a post as Ambassador to the Divine Imperium without some of those rhetorical skills so prized on the Shield.

“Your Highness, I swear I know not what His Lordship alleges. Surely His Lordship knows that there has been neither serf nor slave in the Grand Empire for more than two hundred years, since the reforms of James the Great! Surely His Lordship knows that for that same time, His Majesty’s Navy has enforced a total ban upon the slave-trade with the purpose of stamping out that lamentable blight upon society.”

He drew himself up. “I know this horrendous outrage was not of your making, Your Highness, but I did not come to the court today to be baselessly insulted!”

Malissa nodded, curtly. She looked to her two guards. "Take my Lord of Karsingrad outside and kill him slowly." She snapped in command, the metaphorical gloves coming off.

The Baron gasped and mumbled, but finally, just when the guards were about to reach him, he shouted, "He has an arranged marriage!" It was the turn of the guards, now, to sway in shock. Around the room, every face suddenly went flat, emotionless.

Malissa laughed, a bit weakly. "...Yes, well...I'm sure that that's not true...and there are more important things to deal with than..."

The nobles gasped, and the man sitting in the chair labelled 'Derricks' leapt to his feet. "I should think not! My lady the Grand Duchess would view this to be of the utmost importance! I demand an explanation!"

The punishment, for an Iansisle steeped in traditions of free speech and rule of law, seemed unusually harsh and sudden. But he could not protest - Her Highness would handle things as she saw fit, and it was none of his business. He did wonder, however, why the Baron would gamble with his life just to throw an insult at the Shieldian ambassador. Surely, relations had not deteriorated that badly?

He was more than a little puzzled by the next string of events. The fact that the Shieldian quality did not differentiate between ‘arranged’ marriage and ‘normal’ marriage simply added to his confusion.

“I should think no explanation is needed,” said the thoroughly befuddled Caddick. “Yes, I am married; however, I knew not that sacred unions between man and wife were considered slavery in the Divine Imperium.”

((last post for the night))

Malissa gestured to Karsingrad to continue, keeping a stunned face on. The noble obliged. "For over one-hundred years, this Imperium has been based on two precepts...Everyone is Equal Before the Law, and Everyone has the Right to be a Human. It has long been judged that slavery of any sort is immoral and against those very principles," Karsingrad paused, before dramatically ending with, "including arranged marriages."

He looked around for someone to object, but not seeing anyone make a move, instead carried on. "But we should not be surprised...it's long been known that the Shieldians have a rather strange view of humanity...our own wonderful Prime Minister, madame Bencenoff, would be unable even to vote there."

The assembled nobles grunted, "Shame! Shame!"

Karsingrad looked at Caddick thoughtfully. "So, we are inclined to mercy... but not in these circumstances. This is a thoughtless act and demonstrates a clear lack of respect for the social views of this Imperium." The Baron paused. He wondered if he would have to carry on, and play his trump card.

A proposal to the now enraged House that Mr. Caddick be declared personae non gratis and ejected back to the Empire...and that it should be hinted both to members of the Company and to the Shieldian Foreign Service that he was found engaged in 'salacious' activities in Port Agua...and the nobles could make use of their power to ensure that there would be dozens of witnesses...

He would regret to do that, though. Caddick seemed like a polite chap, friendly, if a bit silent. To destroy his promising career in such a manner, or in any of the other methods available to the Imperial Government, was almost unthinkable...

Caddick gradually progressed from confused to worried as the Baron’s - to him - senseless allegations continued and seemed to fan the fires of the noblemen.

Imagine! The highest of the Imperium’s nobility, reduced to a herd of chattering monkeys by a clever orator as the Ianapalis Mob was by Charles Bradsworth! Did not say much for their strength, really - fooled and blinded by the simplest of rhetorical tricks; outwitted and fed passions. Such behavior at a cruinniú was simply unthinkable.

“Your Highness,” he said, refusing to address himself directly to the Baron. “I know not why His Lordship feels the need to persist in this persecution of me, but I really must object. I love my wife, as much as the air I breath and the water I drink, and I will not see her slandered so!”

((I like option two.))

One of the representatives in the back stood up, visibly outraged. "This is a waste of our time!" He roared, pointing an accusatory finger at the Baron. "The Earl would, I'm sure, be most pleased to learn of what matters this council deals with...let's just have the man swear an oath that his wife is an equal and willing partner in the marriage, and that he's remained faithful to her!"

Malissa nodded, her eyes still troubled. "Sir?" She directed to the ambassador. "I'm sorry to put you on the spot, but...I had things I wanted to get done today, and I wished to discuss the Grand Empire..."

“I love, cherish, and respect my wife,” insisted Caddick. “Though I do not know why I should have to prove it to satisfy a group of ‘quality’ chattering like a Sunday gossip convention, I will sign whatever affidavits you put in front of me.”

The Kaiserine gestured to her servants, and they went off to fetch a pen, some ink, and some paper. The guards waited patiently by the Baron of Karsingrad.

Finally, the goods were produced. Malissa spent a couple of minutes trying to work with the pen and ink, but soon put them aside. 'As soon as I'm done here, I'm going to go to the market myself and get one of those fountain pens...' "...For the love of...Very well. Do you, John Caddick, swear in the name of The Father, The Son, and The Holy Ghost that you married your wife in a traditional format, that is to say one where she was given an equal say in the marriage and wedding itself, and allowed the chance to refuse to marry you, an option which she declined? Is she your willing wife?...do you furthermore swear, that in your years of marriage, you have always remained faithful to her, and never..." even the Kaiserine, a happily married woman of almost twenty-five years, blushed at the words, "sought to...pleasure yourself... outside the Matrimonial bed?"

“I should like to say, Your Highness,” said Caddick darkly, “that I do consider this whole ... inquisition to be most insulting and will be reporting it to my Lord Inswick as soon as possible. But now! - what harm may come of it? I love Sarah, and she I. We swore in the House of God to love and cherish each other till death do us part.

"I felt her sincerity that today," he continued in the same dark tone, "and have never disrespected it by infidelity. Give me the paper! so that I may sign it forthwith and end this pointless proceeding!”

Masquerade!
Paper faces on parade . . .
Masquerade!
Hide your face,
so the world will
never find you!
Masquerade!
Every face a different shade . . .
Masquerade!
Look around -
there's another
mask behind you!
Flash of mauve . . .
Splash of puce . . .
Fool and king . . .
Ghoul and goose . . .
Green and black . . .
Queen and priest . . .
Trace of rouge . . .
Face of beast . . .
Faces . . .
Take your turn, take a ride
on the merry-go-round . . .
in an inhuman race . . .

OOC: My god...another fan...

At the height of the activity a grotesque figure suddenly appears at the top of the staircase. Dressed all in crimson, with a death's head visible inside the hood of his robe, this man, this monster descended into the crowd with dreadful wooden steps.

"Why so silent, good messieurs?" the man sang in a soft but wicked tenor. "Did you think that I had left you for good?"

http://67.18.37.15/237/117/upload/p651894.png

[OOC: Your choice to take it seriously or not Ronia...but I simply could not resist.]

OOC: Ian, I thought we were going to have him be unfaithful... or is this some grand plan of yours? :)

I'll wait on your answer (if it is a grand plan, don't tell me what it is, I'll just be surprised.)

IC:

Princess Imperial Rachel Black looked up at the strange figure as he walked down the marble-stairway of the Imperial Palace. She knew she should run, but an inner politeness compelled her forward, and she curtsied. "Um...welcome to the Imperial Masquerade, My Lord..." she struggled for a name, but simply finished with, "phantom?"

Several members of the petty nobility were trying to figure out who he was, though some of them thought his voice a bit familiar.

Prime Minister Clarissa Bencenoff, though, had fainted dead-away...

((Well, I dunno about 'grand' plan, but it is a plan. *tries to contain self from spilling the beans.* You really won't be too surprised...:)

Oh, and sorry if I said Caddick had been unfaithful; that really wasn't my intent.))

Daniel had been watching the whole thing. He shook his head, and looked over at Sarah. The young woman looked deeply troubled by this, and he knew why. "...he still loves you, you know."

She looked up, surprised. When she opened her mouth, he raised a finger to silence her. "And you love him..." the prince turned to look out towards the scene once more, watched John control his anger. "...he's a good man, and he's being torn to shreds because of me. And...I can't let that go on." Daniel took a step closer to her, and smiled. "I'll always love you, Sarah...and maybe some day we can be together... but..."

There was an uncomfortable pause. "Your choice... I promise you, I'll figure out a way to keep him from asking questions."

“He isn’t always like this, you know,” said Sarah sadly. “Not when we’re alone - then you’d scarcely know he recognizes me from another piece of furniture.” She shook her head.

“It’s all this damn Shadoranite notion of love, is what it is! He knows the words to say, they way to act in public - but there’s no meaning behind it, no actual love. For him - for us - love isn’t something to be pursued passionately. It’s a diversion; something one must do to keep the neighbors from gossiping.

“Oh twisted world! where man feels the drive to expand ever larger, until the Empire spans one side of the earth to the other and there’s a Shieldian ship in every harbor - but cannot screw up the passion to love his wife!” She was becoming almost hysterical and tears streamed down her face. “When did coal replace the smell of flowers on an afternoon walk and commerce replace the genuine love a man can have for a woman?”

She hadn’t answered Daniel’s question, but that hardly seemed relevant now.

Daniel carefully handed her a handkerchief. "Shhh..." he smiled at her, a bit concerned. "I...well, I won't lie and tell you I understand..." he murmured, carefully, "but I'm afraid I can't make this choice... shh... please, I want what's best for you. But...I can't watch what my mother is doing to him any more. I...all I want is for you to be happy."

He looked out at John once more. "That's a scared man... he's arrogant in order to keep it on an equal footing, but he's scared. He's in a country full of people who hate him just for where he comes from. He's scared to show weakness, and unlike our ambassador to the Grand Empire, he's not a scheming, manipulative bastard." Daniel's lip curled as he considered Robespierre. "...what is it you want, Sarah..." he asked her, gently. "And don't lie to me, or tell me the answer you think I want to hear..."

“Daniel,” she said, “I love you - I have from that first dance, and I could never have second thoughts. John - “ She hesitated. “I thought I might learn to love him, my mother insisted that I’d have to. But I couldn’t; love isn’t something that can be learned or taught. It is something which must be felt, which must be lived.

“No,” she said, her voice hardening from the wistful thoughts. “Daniel, I love you. My heart is yours, forever and evermore.”

Daniel nodded, and threw the door open, entering the Chamber. "Enough!" He roared, a commanding tone coming to his voice as he switched from being Daniel Black, man, to Daniel Edwards Black, prince. "Mother... I..." he stuttered, facing the rival for his love.

He hardened his heart, though, his eyes narrowing. "Ambassador John Caddick, I may presume? I'm sorry you're being put through this..." he suddenly realised that he had acted impulsively. 'What can I say? Or do?...Sarah, forgive me...I messed up.' He sighed, and bowed to the older man. "Forgive me, your excellency...but I...look, I know you're in no mood to listen to me, after you've been treated so coarsely...but, please, come with me." He gestured to the doors at the other end of the hallway. "I have an explanation...and..."

“Your Highness,” replied Caddick coldly, bowing slightly but somehow not conveying the proper respect. “Your apology is accepted - though I should love to see this reason behind this shocking impudence.”

His dark eyes flickered to the door Daniel indicated and back to the Prince. “After you, Your Highness.”

Daniel nodded, slowly. He led Caddick through the door, and then along the hallway, to a private room. "This is my fault..." He murmured, looking apprehensive as he locked the door. The prince gestured to a seat. "Please, sit down..."

He sighed, and looked down. "...I've had the fortune of falling in love with your wife...or mis-fortune, as it may turn out..." the Prince readied himself for an attack by a most-likely enraged Caddick.

If Daniel was expecting an enraged reaction from Caddick, he would be sorely disappointed. Shieldian men rarely fly into tantrums over things as trivial as women; rather, they neatly add up insult suffered, weigh it against the social standing of the antagonist, and judge if the offer of their blade needs to be given.

Caddick just sat in a seat, his mind working furiously to process these new events. No use taking hasty action. At last: “Sarah?” he croaked. “You - you’ve fallen in love with Sarah? How? When?”

Daniel's eyes now registered slight surprise. "Why...when she was at the masquerade last night..." he replied, confused. "When else would she have met me?" He sighed, and looked downcast. "Sir...I... I can imagine this is quite a surprise...it certainly wasn't my intention, but..." he shook his head. "It just...it just happened, and..."

“Longwell,” growled Caddick, his eyes flashing in sudden anger. “I knew that boy was up to no good, from the day I met him. How could he? How could he have the sheer impudence!?”

Daniel might just have had time to wonder if Caddick’s anger was directed at the wrong target when those dark eyes suddenly resettled on him.

“My apologies, Your Highness,” he said. “You should never have been put in this situation.”

Daniel looked really uncomfortable, and sighed. "There's not much we can do... I have been...and what's worse..." he noticed Caddick's eyes wander to the door, and sighed once more. "I'm afraid you're not leaving here until we sort this out...you see, she...doesn't want to go with you...and thus, I placed her under my Protection..."

He looked embarrassed. He hadn't done any such thing, but he hoped that Caddick would fall for it. "Not because she feels anything for me," he hurriedly added, "or at least, not that I know of. That would be an abuse of my power. Rather..."

He knew this would be a sticking point, but he had to say, "...but because she doesn't feel anything for you." Even saying it hurt. He knew that him hearing it would have been Hell. He could only imagine what the ambassador was feeling. "...sir, I'm so sorry this happened...but..."