Private Dis-Moi Oui

[George Vitalis]

Because she lost me once and doesn't want to lose me again. Because she lost Reima and is still trying to win her back. Yes, always, if we are not fighting, we aren't doing our jobs. I will always know better, it is in my blood.

But George didn't say anything of the sort, because George wasn't aware of the questions looming in Renata Westaway 's mind. He could have guessed some of it, of course, the shade across her eyes for just a moment.

When you were faced with the future you'd be dealing with, it was natural to be questioning. To wonder what a pain in the arse it would or would not be and something told him that Renata would have much more cause to be annoyed with him than with Natasi Fortan . His mother... was more reasonable with things.

George on the other hand... had ideas and a mind aimed towards schemes, something his mother was often too proper and good for.

He didn't have those compunctions because he wasn't as worried about being good or proper. Just with making sure he was effective. If that meant spying on the Alliance to ensure the prosperity of their nation?

All the better.

Their fingers brushed, a moment too long, before he took the card from her.

"Thank you, Prime Minister. I am sure we will be in touch often." Rising himself up. "Have a pleasant evening."

 

[Renata Westaway]

Renata rose as the Prince did; in this house nobody sat while the royal stood. "Thank you, Your Royal Highness, for your time. And for taking this on. It does not go unnoticed. Best of luck."

She curtsied deeply -- a Natasi-level curtsy, almost -- and rose. Watching him pocket the card, the stood back to leave the doorway clear to exit. Once he had, the Prime Minister gathered her things and carried the coffee cup to the kitchen, where she set it on the counter for the staff to watch later.

Say what you wanted about George Vitalis -- that he was born with a platinum spoon in his mouth, that he was a playboy, that he was entirely without personal knowledge of what most people would consider the real world -- but Renata Westaway knew for certain by now that he was not stupid and certainly not content to stand on ceremony and decorum if there were things he wanted to see done. She wondered idly whether the Renascent Charter could survive such a monarch.

But that was a problem for tomorrow's Renata, she supposed.

A few minutes later, she ducked into the speeder outside the Cerulean Gate Palace and was whisked back to Alderney Square.

Fin

George Vitalis​