Tarth City, Palace District
Imperial Palace, Quarters of Alitus Vivaldi
Sumertsag 41
Alitus let himself into his quarters and shrugged out of his jacket. His approaching servant hurried to take it. "'Evening, Grib."
"Good evening, sir." The Tyran's hooves had been encased with padded shoes but they still clicked on the hardwood floor of the foyer. Goat-like from the waist down, Grib seemed human from the waist up--until he turned his head and his pointed ears and downward-curling horns came into view. "Will there be guests for dinner tonight, Mr. Vivaldi?"
Her Majesty's visits happened without announcement. Alitus ensured his staff was prepared to accommodate her. "Not tonight. Tell Cook not to bother with anything. I grabbed a bite at work." He unfastened his cuffs. "My office staff had a party this afternoon and I picked at leftovers while I finished up a project." He dropped the metal cufflinks onto a gold-edged plate the Tyran ambassador had given him last year. "They were cold, but I didn't want much anyway."
Grib stared at him, owl-eyed. "Cold party leftovers?" He held up both hands and wagged them back and forth in denial. "We won't be telling Cook about that."
Alitus sat to remove his boots.
Grib squatted to help him. He set the boots aside and placed slippers in front of him. "Would you care for a brandy, sir? The Governor of Notidisia sent over a few bottles. I heard they're flavored with some sort of flowers."
"Why not?" Alitus slid his feet into the slippers, stood, and stretched both arms wide. He rolled his head, working out the kinks.
Grib presented a large brandy snifter. "Here you are, sir. I'll go let Cook know you're home and bring you something proper to snack on."
"Thank you." Alitus inhaled the brandy's scent as he rolled it around the snifter. Delicate, similar to the perfume Her Majesty always wore. He tasted it, letting it rest on his tongue. It warmed his throat on the way down. "Delicious." He carried it into his private sitting room and took another sip.
Stacks of leather-bound books sat beside the couch, most of them as yet unread. Her Majesty preferred the smell of leather binding and the feel of real paper. Never mind that virtual books had amazing features and you could store hundreds per chip on your debit bracelet. Handy for popping into holo-form whenever he had a spare moment. She was always pressing a bound book into his hand and insisting, "Read this," or "You'll love this," or "Find time for this one."
How she found the time to read so many books, have sex three or four times a day and run the entire empire was beyond him. Amazing. The woman was beyond comprehension. Did she never sleep?
He read all the books she suggested, his in the virtual version, so he could discuss them with her. He sipped the brandy, set it down and bent to pick up a new book.
Grib entered with a tray of food.
Alitus held up the book. "When did this arrive?"
"Her Majesty sent it over this morning." He set down the tray and began unloading dishes. "Cook sent up an assortment of appetizers for you, sir. What do you fancy first?"
"It doesn't matter. I'm not hungry." As Alitus opened the book, a slip of paper fluttered to the floor. He stooped to pick it up and caught her scent.
"Read this. We're going to the grand opening." It was signed with her usual flourished letter D. He turned over the book. The Fists, the Killers, and Ruckball; the True Story of Two Teams and One Sport that Changed the Empire. New author to him, yet the name seemed familiar. Erryq d'Shoreyh. Hmm, where have I heard that before?
He finished the brandy in one gulp, held it out to Grib for a refill. "What do you know about ruckball?"
"Ruckball, sir?" He gave Alitus a lopsided grin while he poured. "Why, I could practically write a book myself. I wish I could play."
"Why can't you?"
Grib stroked one of his horns. "On Tyris, I was banned because my horns are dinwah, meaning they circle downward instead of up. The Tyran version is more bloodthirsty than the Tarthian one." He lifted one shoulder. "Here, I'm banned because I have horns at all."
"Is that so?" Alitus sat on the couch and stretched his legs, propping one ankle over the other. "Bring that tray over here and have a seat, Grib. Tell me everything you know."
* * * *
Alitus woke with a start, and sat up on the couch. Grib's enthusiastic recounting of ruckball had contained stats and blow-by-blow details; it hadn't been long before Alitus had been lost. I hope I didn't nod off while he was talking.
Grib entered and made a short bow. "Her Majesty and a guest are here to see you, sir."
"Don't keep her waiting." Alitus stood and ran a hand through his hair. He brushed at his shirtfront and started toward the door as it opened.
Rheyn Destoiya's presence transformed the room from a mundane bachelor's den to a palace. She swept into the room like the sensual tornado she always was, her black evening gown sparkling with a metallic luster, shoulders bare, her arms sheathed in black velvet gloves. Her hair was up, baring her neck. She wore little jewelry tonight, just a pendant of blue Kyrenie fire crystal.
She held out her gloved hands.
He put his into them.
"I see you've been reading the book I sent you." She nodded toward the couch, where the book on ruckball lay open, face down. Grib had used it to show him the different zones on the field.
"I've started it, Majesty." He leaned around her. "Grib said someone came with you."
Destoiya squeezed his hands. "I know you've been dreading that law passing."
Alitus jerked back. "The Better Veil Law? Has Parliament they passed it? Is that why you're here?"
"Yes. There were dissenting votes, but we had a clear majority. Try not to be bitter." She caressed his cheek. "Alitus, I know it's difficult to understand."
"That veil will cripple my ability to serve you, Majesty. It will demoralize all Betters, and even worse, we'll cease to be recognizable as people." He retreated from her, and without turning his back, moved so he did not face her. "We'll be required to wear it any time we're not inside our homes. We'll become invisible." He set his tongue against the roof of his mouth, biting back words. "You won't have to worry about succumbing to my pheromones. You won't sense them at all with me inside that--that--cloth prison."
Destoiya covered her mouth, her silver eyes full of unshed tears. "Oh, Alitus." She took one hesitant step toward him. "I'm sorry."
"Not sorry enough to veto it!" He bit his lips, backed away another step, and bowed. "I apologize, Your Majesty. Please forgive my tone. I meant no disrespect."
"Of course, you didn't." She tilted her head. "I understand your anger."
"Do you?" He heard his voice rising but seemed incapable of stopping it. "Do you know what it's like to be shunned because you're different? I already have to wear gloves when I'm in public to keep from accidentally touching someone and influencing them. Now I'll have to hide my face as if I'm some sort of monster." He turned his head, unable to bear the pity in her eyes.
He flinched at the touch of her hand. "Alitus."
He could not force himself to look at her. He breathed as if he'd run up a flight of stairs. He made fists, fighting to hold back the anger that threatened the last vestige of his control.
"I have a way to help."
Alitus struggled to absorb her words, and to force them to make sense. He met her gaze. "Help how?"
Destoiya ran her hands down his arms, and touched his cheek. "Alitus, I treasure you as I've treasured no other." Her tremulous smile made his heart ache. "I've found a way to give you freedom."
He sagged his shoulders, head down. "How, Majesty? If you won't veto the law, then how?"
Her eyes were as silver as a moon's glow. "Wait here." She returned to the door and opened it, motioning to whoever waited outside.
Alitus struggled to fathom what he was seeing. Destoiya had summoned a Better, draped with a black veil that hid him from the shoulders up. Wearing unrelieved black, not a glimpse of the person's skin showed.
The empress led the person into the room. "Well, Alitus?" She gestured to the other Better as if showing off a prize. "What do you think?"
Is this my future? Blankness? Reduced to a black shape? His stomach felt as if he'd eaten a nest of live spiders. "What is it I'm supposed to see?"
Destoiya's brows lifted. She remained silent a moment before turning to the other Better. She sighed and made a curt gesture. "Show him."
The Better pulled off the veil. "Hey, man." He reached up and tousled his hair into place, sweeping the dark locks back from his face with a stupid grin. "How you doing?"
Rudolf Brakovsky? Rudy was a normal. One of her boy toys. A pleasure slave like Alitus had once been. A Jade.
"How dare you come into my home and mock me!" Alitus hauled back and punched him right in the nose.