Thread: Kaminoyama {Zella and Alan23}

Arriving back at base, Zumozo had expected simply to resume his duties. He would be allocated a new machine from stores, be given a few hours to learn its idiosyncrasies and quirks - which all hovers had - and be sent back on patrol. He was not due for out of line leave for at least a week, and had certainly not expected his recent decoration which he did not really regard himself as having deserved anyway to make any difference to this. He had, however, given a certain amount of thought to his meeting with the empress. She could not possibly have known, of course, that she was his half sister, which meant that as a brother it was his duty to protect her if he could. He had paid her the compliment on a sudden impulse, partly for devilment never a quality far from the mind of a cavalryman and partly too because he had really wished to give her some comfort. He had seen the fear in her eyes, read the language of her carriage and her body. She had looked, to him, like a trapped animal. He would sooner have faced an entire clan of charging tribesmen alone on a daily basis than taken on the duties of a ruler. His heart had tuly gone out to her. But, she had reacted simply with the formality the situation had demanded, and that was that. There seemed little more he could do for her. Therefore, when he was summoned by his commanding officer a half hour later, and told to get back into his dress uniform, and prepare himself for another trip to the imperial palace, he at first suspected there had been some kind of mix-up. He had protested that it was surely a duplicated request, that it referred to his previous summons to receive the decoration. The commanding office, however, had soon disabused him of that idea. The letter had been timed and dated, referred to a meeting at a totally different time than the award ceremony, and besides had included, after his name and rank, the award he had just been awarded, showing that there could not possibly be any doubt that it was a new, and different meeting he was required to attend. For even a high ranking member of the military to be summoned to the imperial presence twice in so short a time was rare indeed. For so low ranking a soldier to be so was completely unprecedented. At first, Zumozo thought with a shock that someone might have let slip he was in fact the old emperor's bastard son, but if he knew, the commanding officer made no mention of it. He seemed as bemused as Zomozo himself. Well, there was nothing for it. At the appointed time, he presented himself in full dress uniform, his boots shined and at full attention, wearing all of his decorations. He was as nervous as he had ever been in his life as two palace officials escorted him along the endless miles of corridors, with guards from the imperial regiment snapping to attention and lifting their lasers to the high port as he passed. Was it some kind of trap, he wondered? A discreet way to eliminate him, get rid of the emperor's bastard son and prevent him being a rallying point for dissidents? Yet if this were the case, he reasoned, there were much simpler and quicker ways to do so. Anyway, it was too late now, he realised, as he was ushered into the empress' receiving room. His glance took in the low table, set with the kind of delicacies that only the very rich could afford, the finest china, and the subtle aroma of the very finest teas simmering in the samovar. The empress bowed. Her beauty, just for a second, took his breath away. He had spent time with the most expensive courtesans, and yet, somehow, her beauty was of a different order entirely. Innocent where theirs was knowing, shy where theirs was controlling. The fine silks she wore had not been designed to emphasise her bodily form, yet somehow their very cut and material made her more attractive than an outfit deliberately intended to present her as sexually desirable. The elaborate combs of her hairstyle, the subtle yet enhancing make up, even the way her eyes dropped to the floor at his approach rather than greet him arrogantly and confidently as an empress should her servant, al lthis caused him to have to force himself to draw breath. It is indeed an honour, and a pleasure, Your Imperial Highness, he replied, standing to attention, for no-one dared sit in the presence of any member of the imperial family without an express invitation. Especially since, he saw with a shock, the only free mat had bene placed not opposite her at the table as might have been expected by imperial protocol but, by some terrible mistake, next to the one before which she stood!