Vlaric smiled smugly to himself, thinking, "Ah, yes, Gorm...Such a good attendant to Asen, and an even more useful spy to me...Far more than Globbock..."
His Royal Highness, accompanied by the ever-present Lord Cadmore, at last strolled into the reception hall. Clad in formal attire of the deepest blue, a scarlet sash swathed around his chest displaying the gold and gem-encrusted symbols of his royal heritage, Asen cut quite a dashing figure. However, his outward appearance belied the storm raging within. If only his father and intended bride knew his torment, as if they would ever care. He still had that cockle shell hidden on his person. Perhaps during a lull in the day's entertainment, if he could spot Danielle somewhere in the crowd, he will have ample opportunity to use that magical powder. And what would happen if he dropped that shell just as Mitra instructed? Asen didn't want to think about that now, or else his father would most surely detect any disloyalty. To Asen, there wasn't much Vlaric would do just to have his way thus prolonging his brutal reign.
Asen forced himself to be pleasant, to smile and look at least interested in the presence of the visitors from Koror. His eyes took in Governor Banes of Chalou, his father's right hand man and most trusted public official. Ha! Banes is no "loyal minion;" he's as oily as they come. Tall, an extremely lean frame that verged on emaciation, a shock of whitened hair cut into, as Asen amusedly thought, the shape of a pudding bowl. Banes' eyes were a cold steel gray, no warmth, no kindness, just dark calculation. Asen didn't trust this man, and once he ascended to the Eldonian throne, Banes will be the first to go. To Banes' right sat Governor Sadius of Koror, a man most opposite of Banes in appearance but not much else. Whereas Banes was tall and spare, Sadius was plump and squat, his balding head ringed with a halo of greasy black hair. To the untrained, unknowing eye, Sadius' appearance conveyed joviality and an easy charm. This was far from the truth. Of all Eldonia's provincial governors, Sadius was the least experienced, least learned. He had no other interests outside work. He read little if not at all, and had no ear for music or eye for fine art. Sadius could care less about the world around him; his only interest was to keep his sovereign happy, which meant go along with Vlaric's every wish, and that meant agreeing with Banes at every turn.
Seated next to Sadius was a woman Asen already knew. This was Princess Jolende of Koror, daughter of King Rakous and Queen Tatria. Of course, her parents' titles were in name only; the Kororians retained their royal titles after the region aligned itself with Eldonian rulers. How ironic that the Kororians were able to keep their titles and ways, with Eldonia's blessing, while Benut was stripped of all their republican ways and their culture all but outright oppressed.
To Asen, Jolende, like Sadius, presented to the world a pretty package but hid her true nature within. Sure, she was attractive, if one would call her libidinous appearance "pretty." Jolende was strikingly beautiful. Of medium height, outrageously curvaceous, Jolende projected a the persona of the glamorous seductress. On this day, she wore a black satin dress which just skimmed at mid-calf and hugged her hourglass figure like a second skin. Shimmering provocatively in the right places, the dress was slit up one side clear to the thigh, exposing a long shapely leg, and its daring décolleté proudly displayed the generous cleavage. Her every move suggested dangerous seduction and sexual pleasure, as evident by the way she draped herself over the chaise lounge. She looked at Asen with a peculiar hunger; her very black eyes devoured his very being as if wanting to pounce him right then and there. Shifting on the lounge, her body gently wriggling suggestively, she spoke, in a voice deep and breathy, full of lust and desire.
"Ah, my future husband. I gather you are to escort me to the procession."
Asen, trying not to look so disgusted – Jolende's blatant sexual overtones actually turned him off – stared at the deep blue pendant dangling from her gold neckchain. He noticed that all Kororians wore these pendants as symbols of their power. What are the significance of these medallions, and what happens if one should remove them from their person? He continued to stare at the azure medallion as it dangled within Jolende's heaving cleavage. Slightly shaking his head as if jarring himself from Jolende's spell, Asen extended his hand, saying, "Your Highness, our carriage awaits. May I escort you to the Landing Day celebration?"
Jolende rose from the lounge, smoothing her hands over her dress and weaving her body deliciously. She gave him a smouldering look, pursed her lips, then cooed in reply, "Your Royal Highness, nothing would give me more pleasure." She snapped her fingers; instantly two female attendants appeared, both devastatingly beautiful brunettes, both clad in skintight black leather dresses. Each wore, as did Jolende and Sadius, the same deep blue crystal medallion. Asen still couldn't figure it out. What is with the crystal?
The ladies, Venvula and Cyprelle, falling a few steps behind their princess, simply stared ahead, allowing the Royal party to exit the room. They followed, and their sensual beauty and provocative hip-swaying gait was not lost on Gorm who watched from an upper-story window. If this marriage between the prince and princess does come to fruition, Gorm thought with delirious anticipation, would Jolende hand over Venvula or Cyprelle to him? How about both?
++++++
In the square facing the Royal Palace, the crowd grew to gargantuan proportions. There wasn't enough room, as one reveller said, to sneeze. Tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands packed the main thoroughfare, all jockeying for a good view of their king and his entourage. The people were particularly curious about Prince Asen's betrothed, Princess Jolende. Not too many outside those in power had ever seen the Kororian princess, but her reputation as a promiscuous wanton seemed to be common knowledge. Clearly, the people would not, could not, discuss this matter in public; it was far too risky. Instead, all bets were made in secret – How long after the wedding would Jolende take on a series of lovers? Odds were that Her Highness would not wait six days after the nuptials, only sleeping with her husband long enough to produce an heir and a spare.
Some distance away, far from prying eyes and ears, three Benutians who came to Tyq not necessarily for the celebration, gathered under a stone bridge which spanned the Indria River. This was not the best area of town; in fact it was decidedly shabby and dingy. This was the Pofo district, home to Tyq's large homeless and vagabond population. Under that bridge, taking advantage of the absence of people and soldiers, members of the Resistance regrouped.
"Melaria," said Syrin, a ruggedly handsome young man with dark blond hair, "did you manage to plant those spikes?"
"Yes," Melaria replied, her blue eyes sparkling with glee. "I planted several near that tavern, The Golden Tiara. Couldn't get close to the Palace, but I got the Justice Ministry and University covered."
"Good work, Melaria! And you, Biri, what about the Starfield House."
Biri, an older woman who remembered the last failed rebellion attempt, merely said, "All niuvite crystals are in place. When the explosions come, Starfield House will emerge unscathed. Oh, Princess Evore gave us her blessing, and she says this time, the resistance will succeed."
Syrin smiled. "Let us pray that no one discovers those phérium spikes all over the city. I've received word from the lab in Lemrac that everything is going as scheduled. Now, let us go back. I'm sure you feel as I – Landing Day celebrations are nothing to cheer about."
"Especially," snorted Melaria, "if your people were stripped of their freedom and way of life because of those three."
Biri nodded, saying, "Well, come next week, we'll just see how much they'll celebrate once their city is in flames. King Vlaric, fearing revolt from his loyal subjects, will have to give in to our demands. Either restore Benut's independence or suffer even more consequences..."
Copyright©2006 by P.R. Parker. All rights reserved.