As soon as Karen got into the back of the Palace ground car, she took a mirror out of her purse and began preening right in front of the two Sentinel agents. She applied lipstick, adjusted her blouse for maximum cleavage, primped her hair a bit, and practiced some facial expressions, mostly smiles. From his position as driver, watching her in the rear-view mirror, Matthieu didn’t see that she needed to do any of those things.
When he pulled into the underground lot at Ambrosia Gardens, a restaurant established some ten years ago by Sentinels retiring early due to their injuries, Karen asked, “Where are we? Why aren’t we at the Imperial Palace?” Major Chamorro told her.
“But I want to be seen entering on Matthieu’s arm! I don’t want people to think we’re just hooking up.” She griped some more as Matthieu turned the car off, tossed his borrowed watchman’s cap on the seat beside Watchman Morris, and went to open the back door.
When Karen looked up into his eyes, Matthieu smiled broadly. “Hello, gorgeous!” Reaching his hand in to escort her out, he complimented her on her dress as he watched her responses. They chatted as they trounced up the back stairs and slid into a booth near the back.
Matthieu ended up telling a lot of jokes during dinner, most with sexual innuendoes. Karen’s laughter was so intriguing that he really couldn’t help himself. When he asked if she wanted to do anything else that evening, she suggested a club. He wasn’t surprised to see most of her friends were there already, nor that Theo soon showed up with Rosanne.
They were on their third round of drinks when Matthieu asked, “Rosanne, this is your first year at University, isn’t it?”
Beaming at him, Rosanne and Karen exchanged glances. “Yes, it is. Karen and I were so bored at Walnut Ridge Academy. When she raved about the variety of classes University offered, I went to the Winger Mansion one weekend just to read all the course listings and discuss them with her. It was almost unbearable to spend one more year in high school while she got to take anything she wanted.”
Theo began asking about the variety of subjects to be studied at University. It actually did sound like they knew what was offered, but when Rosanne said she had an exam in the morning, Theo appeared disconcerted. “Why did you say you would go out with me tonight, then? Why didn’t you stay home to study?”
“Who could resist going out with you, Theo?” Rosanne said with good cheer. “I’m caught up in my class, so I’m not worried about the test.” Karen made sure to assure the men she was, too. They worked on helping Theo decide which preliminary classes to take as their friends came and went, greeting them and meeting the Imperial brothers if they hadn’t already.
Theo insisted on taking Rosanne straight home. She pouted but finally agreed. Matthieu had Watchman Morris drive him and Karen back to the Imperial Palace, for it was only 22:00 and her first class the next day wasn’t until 10:00.
When they were in bed, Karen once again egged Matthieu on for a lustier performance, but he took his sweet time. “I’m enjoying your luscious curves,” he crooned as he slowed down some more while stroking one breast.
Although he could tell she was enjoying herself, she didn’t get loud and rowdy like the first time, even when he finished before her. He successfully concluded the gentleman’s quest with both hands, inside and out, which thankfully happened quite quickly since he had taken so much time for himself. Her cries as she peaked weren’t terribly unnerving as a result, so he curled up around her to sleep.
During breakfast, Karen asked, “So, what kinds of things did you line up for your last week of leave?”
“Almost exclusively family stuff.” Matthieu speared his eggs. “I’m probably not going to get to see you again.”
“I hear the Imperial Protocol Academy is going very well. I love the fact that you yourself are teaching everyone.”
“Where did you hear about that?” Did Theo tell his lady?
“From Vic.” Karen sipped her juice.
“Huh. I haven’t spoken to him all week.” Matthieu looked at her closely.
Karen batted her eyes. “I’m sure he talks to his uncle quite often.”
“How often do you talk to Vic?”
She paused. “Oh, whenever I see him. He goes to University, too. And we all seem to hang out together, now.” She resumed her meal.
After having a watchman drive Karen to Winger Manse, Matthieu called Vic. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Getting ready for class. What’s up with you?”
“This won’t take long. Tell me, when’s the last time you talked to Karen Winger?”
“That party last week. Why? Do you want to go out with her? I’m sure she’d love it.” Vic grinned. “Her friend Sonia is so hot; we spent all weekend together.”
“Good for you.” Matthieu smiled. “I’m pretty busy this week, so maybe we can get together this weekend, hey?” Vic agreed, and they signed off.
Since Karen could have only heard about his lessons from Rosanne, and lied about it for no reason he could perceive, Matthieu decided he was relieved to have an excuse not to date her. He should ask Theo to be more careful with what information he told others about the Imperial Protocol Academy, to forestall other gossip or attempts to pry information from them over it.
Wondering anew why Karen would lie about something so minor in the first place, he decided to talk to Father at some point today.
◊ ◊ ◊
Matthieu spent most of that day doing research for his next Imperial Protocol Academy class. He had lunch in his suite, only leaving that afternoon to spend a couple of hours with the Imperial Archivist. After spending a great deal of time that evening with Grandfather, Father, and Uncle Phillip, and most of the day Thursday with Grandmother, Renee, and Annette, he felt confident he could get through this next thorny presentation.
Once everyone settled in and gave Matthieu all their attention, he looked each one in the eyes while sitting upright, hands on his knees. “Who are you allowed to command?”
“Servants. Watchmen and Sentinels.” Roman looked at the others. “Am I right? That’s what we were allowed on Rendel.”
Richard looked thoughtful. “Well, watchmen generally do what we ask of them, but really, they command us.”
“Same with Sentinels,” Domenic muttered wryly. “I’ve gotten my share of whippings.”
Desiree made a gentle scoffing sound. “Even some of the servants we can’t command. The stewards and the maids and the food service workers we can. But if I tried to tell one of the medics what to do, he would laugh at me.”
“We think of everyone else in the Imperial Palace as servants, and we do feel like we give them a lot of commands, but the truth is they command us. If I did something against the Head Chamberlain’s procedures, he’d ream me out for it,” Aimee expressed absently, deep in thought.
“Same with the groundskeepers and some of the grooms,” Domenic groused, morose. Everyone looked thoughtful for a while.
Matthieu asked, “What have the Bradleys said to you about authority?”
“There’s earned authority, and there’s inherited authority. We have inherited authority but not earned authority, since we’re still students,” Lynette supplied. “When we get a degree, we’ll have earned authority for whatever position we hold.”
“What else?”
The teens all looked at each other. “That was about it. We were talking about the social graces, and how important it is to say ‘Thank you’ to others, whether we gave them a command or not,” Kayla said with some puzzlement.
Matthieu nodded. “That’s true. They’ve been hired to their tasks, so when we command them, we’re usually asking them to perform one of their extra duties outside their regular duties, which is why we should thank them.”
He crossed his arms and projected wonderment. “Tell me, why do we have servants, Sentinels, and watchmen at all?” At their gapes of surprise, he reminded them, “Most people don’t, after all.”
“Because we’re important,” Roman said.
“Why?”
“Because we’re Imperial, of course,” Roman scoffed.
“What does that matter?” Matthieu observed everyone closely. The only person who didn’t show frustration was Grace; she sat comfortably, her back against the settee, but her eyes were glued to him and she didn’t fidget.
“What are you getting at?” Ricky finally asked. He appeared to be near tears; the others were just as seriously perturbed that Matthieu seemed to threaten their world-view, their entire way of life.
“I’m saying that, although an enormous number of people say you’re important for who you are, the truth is people are important for what they do or have the capacity to do,” Matthieu explained calmly.
“What? You can’t mean that,” Kyle exclaimed, rejection clear on his face. “Our parents are important!”
“Okay, let’s discuss why our parents are important,” Matthieu said genially. “Who’s the most important person on the planet?”
“Grandfather,” several said at the exact moment Grace and Desiree said, “Grandmother.” Everyone looked at each other with small giggles.
“Let’s start with Grandfather. Why is he important?” Matthieu leaned back comfortably in his seat to lessen the youngsters’ apprehension over the topic.
“Well, he can start a war with his very word.” Richard appeared to be wondering if Matthieu was trying to antagonize them. “He can have people executed on a whim. He can get anyone to do anything he wants.”
“Oh, really? If he can get anyone to do anything he wants, then why does he spend so much of his day arguing with people in his office?” Matthieu made sure his tone was reasonable, even as he slammed them with the next question. “Why did Dalanov’s Coup happen?”
Round-eyed, the cousins all looked at each other, so Theo came to their rescue. “Because Dalanov wanted power.”
“Ah! Well, I want a chocolate steak for dinner, but will I get it?” Matthieu teased. Giggles again; good. “We all want many things, but what does it take to get them?”
“You have to work for it. Or ask for it. Some people just steal it, like Dalanov,” Theo replied, getting into the spirit of the discussion.
“Correct. Now, remember our talk last week about perspective, about reading notes and getting inside someone’s head? I’ve read about Dalanov in school, of course, so what I did the past two days was spend time in the Imperial Archives, reading Dalanov’s notes.” The gasps of astonishment couldn’t have been greater, even from the Bradleys.
“What did you learn?” Grace virtually whispered.
Matthieu sat forward, hands on his knees once more. “Our great-great grandfather, Emperor Nicholas, was the only surviving Sinclair from the Rendelian Wars. He would’ve been satisfied to throw the Rendelians off our planet but for the fact that every Sinclair but Prince Albert had been killed during the war. So Nicholas spent his last brother in the Conquest of Rendel. He married Sophia Adamov when he was middle-aged, and she died giving birth to our great-grandmother, Princess Alyssa.
“As a result, Emile Michelson had to give up his name and birthright to be her Prince Consort. No Michelsons were ever to make blood claim to the throne. Our great-grandfather Emile was killed on Orient V, leaving three very young Sinclair sons.
“Dalanov was a colonel in the Service and great friends with Emile’s brother. Disgusted by Soren Michelson’s bitching that he thought he should at least get to be their foster-father, and eventually regent when Emperor Nicholas died, Dalanov began planning.”
Matthieu looked around. “He was disgusted because, although they were great friends, Soren Michelson was lazy and weak-minded. Dalanov realized he had the brains to govern an Empire, whereas Soren did not.
“He saw Emperor Nicholas as weak because he had declared Alyssa would be Empress. Emperor Nicholas was old, our grandfather and his older brothers were young, and Alyssa was beautiful. Dalanov was brilliant, and charming, and knew he could get a significant number of men at his back. Most important, Dalanov thought he had the skills to be an Emperor. Thus the coup.”
Leaning back, Matthieu reiterated, “Dalanov almost succeeded. He was so brilliant, cunning, knowledgeable, and charming that he eventually convinced seventeen dukes to actively support him, despite him being a commoner. If not for the fact that Grandfather escaped, drawing the support of over half the space forces and fifteen dukes who refused to follow Dalanov while the others waffled, our planet would have half the population it does now, and we would be living in a dictatorship like Javonia.
“That’s why so many of you think you are important, because we’re Imperial; we have Imperial blood, an oft-broken but never extinguished line from the original king, Kyan Sinclair. We’re lucky half the planet thought Imperial blood was important, too, or we wouldn’t be here. What I want you to understand is, there are always people who’ll look at us and think they can do better.
“What we need to do, as Sinclairs, is not just have Imperial blood; we must also have Imperial-quality skills, knowledge, and willpower behind our actions so we actually are better, so no one along the way can point to incompetence as a reason to usurp us from our positions. If we can prove we deserve our positions, people will respect that authority, that earned authority, as much or more than our inherited authority.”
After letting them simmer for a while, Matthieu went back to his original tack. “When I asked you who you could command, you all realized that, right now, you have extremely limited authority. Sentinels can drag you out of the room at any time for your safety. Physicians can forbid you food and drink, and medicate you and treat you against your will if your health demonstrates a need. Even the chefs have studied for years, passing numerous tests to prove their knowledge and skills, and so, in their limited domains, they have authority over you.
“Even the servants, even the chamberlains, even the archivist and the grooms and the budget managers and the kitchen helpers, if you were to try to overstep their personal authority, earned by them and granted to them by Grandfather, Father, Renee, Grandmother, or whoever hired them, they would see to it that not only would you not get your way, you’d probably get a strapping by your parents.
“So, once more I ask, why do we have Sentinels, servants, and watchmen?” Matthieu looked around. “I could lead you on with more questions, but for now, I’ll just give you the answer. We have these people assigned to our needs because we have the two most brilliant and capable people on four planets as grandparents.
“Grandfather has the training and long experience to run the Empire. Grandmother has the training and brilliance to develop sciences that have generated enormous income for our Empire. They are vital to the smooth running of the Empire, and they’ve trained their children to be just as vital.
“The reason they give us servants, Sentinels, and watchmen is because, if anything happened to us, the people they most want to train and see taking their places, they wouldn’t be psychologically able to do their jobs. And not just because of the heartbreak; they would also know the future stability of the Empire would be jeopardized if we were to be killed.
“We’re not just their children, carrying on their genes; we can be their legacy of talent, knowledge, and skill. Learn from them at every opportunity. Seek them out and beg them to teach you. Help them in any way, because no skill is wasted. They will be more than eager to train you to any task, because they love you and want you to fulfill your promise, your destiny as Sinclair.”
After that potent delivery, Matthieu sat back to drink his softee and rest while the ideas percolated through these twelve brilliant minds. When they began murmuring to each other, he resumed.
“Theo said that if you want something, you have to work for it, ask for it, or steal it. If you go through life asking for what you want, you’ll probably get a good deal simply because other people think just having Imperial blood is important. If you steal it, no one will ever be able to trust you again, because you will have demonstrated your Imperial blood means nothing. Therefore, in order to truly command authority, you must work for it.
“Dalanov did all three. He worked for his authority, his command position in the Service. He then stole the original Palace from our family, and ultimately he did his best to ask for the rest of the Empire on a platter. He had 17 dukes on his side, but our great-grandmother Princess Alyssa completely resisted when he asked for her hand in marriage to cement his claim.
“She was a true Princess in that respect; she knew a sham marriage, for no other purpose than to save her life, was to be refused to the very end since she knew there was a scion left alive. He even told her Grandfather had been captured and killed, but when she demanded to see his body and he couldn’t produce it, she knew it for a lie.
“Now, consider our parents. Grandfather and Grandmother weren’t about to have worthless layabouts in their family. They insisted our parents work hard to earn their authority. There are 39 scenarios they all had to learn in case of another coup, depending on which ones of them survive.
“Look around at each other, now. If only half of you survived a coup, which ones do you feel you could rely on to support you, with skills and work and intelligence and dedication and love and trust, in order to survive the next attempt at a coup after that?”
He knew he was scaring them unnecessarily at that point, but if he didn’t drive the need deep into their minds, hearts, and souls, the Imperial Protocol Academy would be an exercise in futility. Matthieu stood up, assumed a parade-rest stance, and used a strong command voice.
“Authority can be granted, but only because it’s earned in the first place. Each one of you must develop your gifts individually by understanding the deeply important roles you can serve in the Empire some day.
“Authority is based on proof; you must prove you can handle a position before you’re granted the authority to perform in that capacity. In that respect, I will be your commanding officer someday. I won’t give you a position for which you demonstrate no ability.”
He softened his voice considerably. “Therefore, I want you all to strive your utmost to find or develop skills you would feel comfortable, happy, and fulfilled to use in order to contribute to the strength of the Imperial Family in the future. As I’ve said before, I want you, and I need you. And I dearly love you, especially since I’m witnessing you develop into the strong, capable, trustworthy people who will deserve important roles in the Empire someday, right before my very eyes.”
Since three of the girls began crying, and two of the boys appeared to be fighting tears, Matthieu approached them and began hugging them, by ones and twos. He murmured things like, ‘Thank you. Thanks for working so hard. Thanks for being here for me,’ to each one. They, in turn, thanked him back.
Theo pounded him on the back with a big grin but no words. The Bradleys came over for their share of hugs.
After a quick warning knock, Steward Flynn poked his head in the door. “Dinner is in fifteen minutes,” he warned them.
“Can I please have a chocolate steak for dinner?” Matthieu asked.
“Ah, no, Your Highness. I’m sure that kind of thing would be forbidden.” The steward managed to make himself heard through the gales of laughter.