skin, bone, and arrogance
It was an early spring day in New Sterandel, which came with its own set of challenges. The snows -- typically mild over the winter -- were quite gone by now, but that did not guarantee a nice day. As the clock climbed toward midday, the morning was on the cooler side, though the skies were mostly clear. High, wispy clouds were no threat at all -- rows and flows of angel hair, as it were, not there to rain and snow on everyone. But since it was cool and probably not comfortable to sit outside for very long, Natasi had instructed the luncheon to be served indoors, in her private dining room at the Palace in New Sterandel. The relatively small, dark-paneled room was a statement of Natasi's style ethos: generally clean lines and simple, but of such immaculate quality one simply knew it had to cost the earth. Galidraani in style, with subtle art deco decorative elements, it featured dark walnut furnishings with deep navy damask cushions on the chairs. Unlike the state dining room, which featured a broad, rectangular table that could comfortable seat two hundred, the table here was small and round, suitable for no more than six and that was at a push.
Natasi entered the room and pulled the damask curtains back from the windows, looking out into the garden anxiously. There were high walls there -- for protection more than for the prevention of escape, but given who her luncheon guests were today, she had to wonder if being indoors at all was the right move. Perhaps a marquee out on the bluffs... well, they could arrange space heaters, couldn't they? It was 900 ABY, anything was possible.
"Your Majesty," a voice intoned from behind her, and Natasi half-turned to see Kenat, her aide, standing there. "The spaceport has sent a message that your visitors have arrived. Your speeder is standing by to bring them here."
Natasi swallowed and nodded. "Very good." Too late, then, to change the venue. Well, she would just have to hope that the Alor trusted her enough not to suspect her of nefarious motives.
This would have been simpler at Suffolk House, but Natasi knew that Dyrn -- the Duke of Suffolk, the owner of the estate, and her betrothed -- would have been furious to learn the woman that had apprehended Natasi so brutally had darkened the doorstep there. Natasi was quite willing to find a way past the transgressions of her shared past with the Alor -- the whole point of today's luncheon -- but she suspected that darling Dyrn never could. When he died, they would find it carved upon his heart. Natasi felt a throb of affection for her beloved guardsman, her eyes darting to the platinum picture frame on the sidebard that had a picture of the pair of them together -- Natasi wrapped in a large towel for modesty, her hair slicked back and wet, with Dyrn standing behind her in fashionable swim trunks, back straight, one hand on his hip, the other on her shoulder. Both beaming into the lens, looking relaxed. Happier times. Öetrago.
Kenat cleared his throat. "Mr. Demarche wanted me to confirm with you the timing of the luncheon, ma'am. He says if there are any changes he will need to know before midday so as to adjust the timing."
"I understand," said Natasi. "You may tell him that the schedule is fixed. Whether anyone will want to eat anything is out of my hands, but it would be impolite to bring them all this way and not offer them refreshments. Did you check with the housekeeper?"
"Yes, ma'am," said Kenat. "There are suites made up for their usage, and additional rooms should they have brought an entourage."
"And -- food for their entourage?"
"Yes," said Kenat simply.
Natasi knew it was foolish to ask. The staff here didn't make it a habit to ignore her instructions, nor to overlook the details of her requests. She smiled at Kenat and nodded. "Very good. I'm going to finish up in here and then I'll be in my study. Do come and find me when they arrive. And, I suppose, let me know if there is some problem. Perhaps they won't want to use the limousine and would rather walk or fly or jetpack." Kenat departed and the Supreme Leader turned back toward the windows. Between them sat a sideboard with wine, water, and other beverages selected to pair with the menu, and a large bowl of white roses. She plucked a curling leaf from one of the buds, crushing it in her palm, before turning to the dining table. Neither head nor foot, no one seated higher or lower than anyone else. Egalitarian. The china was from the Vitalis collection, a respectable service: white with platinum rims, simple but quality. Crystal glasses and polished silver utensils finished the look.
Good, Natasi thought. She paused in the doorway to adjust the lighting from the panel there, then left. It wouldn't be long now.
She only hoped that the Alor didn't come in beskar'gam; it would rather clash with the decor.
Natasi entered the room and pulled the damask curtains back from the windows, looking out into the garden anxiously. There were high walls there -- for protection more than for the prevention of escape, but given who her luncheon guests were today, she had to wonder if being indoors at all was the right move. Perhaps a marquee out on the bluffs... well, they could arrange space heaters, couldn't they? It was 900 ABY, anything was possible.
"Your Majesty," a voice intoned from behind her, and Natasi half-turned to see Kenat, her aide, standing there. "The spaceport has sent a message that your visitors have arrived. Your speeder is standing by to bring them here."
Natasi swallowed and nodded. "Very good." Too late, then, to change the venue. Well, she would just have to hope that the Alor trusted her enough not to suspect her of nefarious motives.
This would have been simpler at Suffolk House, but Natasi knew that Dyrn -- the Duke of Suffolk, the owner of the estate, and her betrothed -- would have been furious to learn the woman that had apprehended Natasi so brutally had darkened the doorstep there. Natasi was quite willing to find a way past the transgressions of her shared past with the Alor -- the whole point of today's luncheon -- but she suspected that darling Dyrn never could. When he died, they would find it carved upon his heart. Natasi felt a throb of affection for her beloved guardsman, her eyes darting to the platinum picture frame on the sidebard that had a picture of the pair of them together -- Natasi wrapped in a large towel for modesty, her hair slicked back and wet, with Dyrn standing behind her in fashionable swim trunks, back straight, one hand on his hip, the other on her shoulder. Both beaming into the lens, looking relaxed. Happier times. Öetrago.
Kenat cleared his throat. "Mr. Demarche wanted me to confirm with you the timing of the luncheon, ma'am. He says if there are any changes he will need to know before midday so as to adjust the timing."
"I understand," said Natasi. "You may tell him that the schedule is fixed. Whether anyone will want to eat anything is out of my hands, but it would be impolite to bring them all this way and not offer them refreshments. Did you check with the housekeeper?"
"Yes, ma'am," said Kenat. "There are suites made up for their usage, and additional rooms should they have brought an entourage."
"And -- food for their entourage?"
"Yes," said Kenat simply.
Natasi knew it was foolish to ask. The staff here didn't make it a habit to ignore her instructions, nor to overlook the details of her requests. She smiled at Kenat and nodded. "Very good. I'm going to finish up in here and then I'll be in my study. Do come and find me when they arrive. And, I suppose, let me know if there is some problem. Perhaps they won't want to use the limousine and would rather walk or fly or jetpack." Kenat departed and the Supreme Leader turned back toward the windows. Between them sat a sideboard with wine, water, and other beverages selected to pair with the menu, and a large bowl of white roses. She plucked a curling leaf from one of the buds, crushing it in her palm, before turning to the dining table. Neither head nor foot, no one seated higher or lower than anyone else. Egalitarian. The china was from the Vitalis collection, a respectable service: white with platinum rims, simple but quality. Crystal glasses and polished silver utensils finished the look.
Good, Natasi thought. She paused in the doorway to adjust the lighting from the panel there, then left. It wouldn't be long now.
She only hoped that the Alor didn't come in beskar'gam; it would rather clash with the decor.