Festival for a New Era (Meillur Only)

[Royal Genes]

Catherine d’Aurelians, or as she was formally known these days, the Petite Dauphiné, rose from the throne aboard her Rocheforte Starseeker V yacht, the newest generation of Gênoise luxury star yachts that were so perfectly beloved among the stylish and wealthy. The small crew aboard the Starseeker landed the 48 meter long chrome vessel onto Stardock One with the grace and ease that had become expected of the Rocheforte line of vessels, armed or unarmed alike. The Petite Dauphiné smiled as she let the handwoven skirts of her traditional habesha dress sweep behind her. The dress, a modest favorite of those who took to court in the circle of her husband, the zealous Petit Dauphin was a traditional garment. Traditional to who, the Petite Dauphiné did not know. Certainly not the Gênoise. Their traditional clothing was perhaps not truly suitable for formal occasions, but better for rumps in the bed chamber. The modest habesha however was a testament to the new religious views of those of the court of the Petit Dauphin. Elegant, it was as white as alabaster, several layers of cloth kept it modest, with meron embroidery around it skirts, at her cuffs, waist and in an elaborate high necked collar done in thread the color of rubies and thread made from actual gold. Ruby earrings were studded in her ears, each the size of a grape. Her full lips were a matching vibrant red, and even her caramel colored curls were tinged with the color red, seen from beneath her crimson veil that covered the back half of her hair. Pinned to a tightly braided bun and swooping across her shoulders. The Petite Dauphiné herself was beautiful, lean and petite, she had cinnamon color skin splashed with a constellation of freckles.

The Petite Dauphiné was happy to get away, even if it was for a diplomatic mission in the form of attending a festival. It allowed her some escape from the rigid lifestyle that dictated her life in Gênes. Honestly, it were as if she had married the only man in all of Gênes that hated the very idea of fun. It was all devote prayer and holy reflection on ones sins. It made for a rather drab lifestyle in comparison to the glitter and gold of... well everyone else in the bloody country. The Petite Dauphiné was starved for some fun. Of course that wasn’t exactly the goal of this attendance. There was a diplomatic reason behind it. That was her priority. Gênes and New England had been on... rough terms ever since before the Adelaide Accords. Queen Adela was furious with William for daring to break an alliance with Gênes and to end the betrothal of one of her great-granddaughters to his son. She was here to test the waters. Gênes would never extend an offer, but they would accept New England crawling back to them. And if if they wouldn’t crawl, the Petite Dauphiné would scout out a way to make them grovel. And poor Marguerite, though hardly poor, had a father hellbent on assassinating William. Of course, the Petite Dauphiné wasn’t there to assassinate William. At least not today. Of course she would never assassinate someone herself, that was something she left to one of her brothers. Speaking of brothers, that was connected to the second mission she had here. The more... clandestine mission.

The Petite Dauphiné descended the stairs from her suit of the Starseeker, trailed by two of the pale skinned schiavos, who were technically freed, but the name stuck. She however did not exit onto the Stardock One, but instead went to the second used suite aboard this ship. The one that belonged to her brother, to make sure that he was ready. She wished to continue on to the festival and not be forced to wait up on him.

[Atmora]

Ambassador Youri Boshoeve
Stardock One, New England Orbit, New Boston

Ambassador Boshoeve was the last appointed Atmoran Ambassador to New England during the reign of Empress Katherine II. Due to the fact that Regent Lady Ravenswood hasn't appointed any new Ambassadors in various diplomatic missions, Boshoeve has taken it upon himself to continue as the Atmoran first emissary in New Boston.

Ambassador Boshoeve was wearing a black suit with a scarlet tie and a red poppy on his collar in remembrance for the millions that never returned home after the Second Contact. While Boshoeve knew that the Atmoran Brass had some rather interesting things to say about New England equipment and methods, it did get the job done even if the Admiralty thought they could do it more efficiently as in they meant they would resort to xenocide on a mass scale.

The Ambassador walked towards the King William, as he reached him he bowed ever so slightly as a sign of respect towards his status as a sovereign, he politely spoke before the King.

"Your Majesty it is a pleasure to attend your festival." He raised his glass ever so slightly "And may this era of peace continue on without any blemishes. Though if I must say so myself Sire I find rather interesting that you've begone the production of peacetime vessels, who knows when the next big war may start."

[Great New England Confederation]

King William
Stardock One

William nodded and said “Perhaps that is true, however, I do believe that there is a thing or two that you do not know of yet, though one of those things will be revealed today. Besides, most of our vessels that you see outside this station today are far more heavily armed than their appearance would let on, they are simply made to do much more than act as a warship, after all, not every bad thing that happens in the galaxy is war, it is better to have ships that can do a lot of tasks adequately”

He then said “Besides, a Military is nothing without the economy to support it”

[Polonge]

Queen Karola smiled at the Atmoran Ambassador, quietly nodding her head along with her husband. War and military matters had never been her strong suit. Which was a great deal of the reason why she preferred peace. She couldn’t help but notice one of the guests wandering seeming as if she were searching for someone. Nonetheless the Queen of New England spoke to her husband and the ambassador.

“Hopefully the military’s role shall be shrunken to one purely for defense and one rarely called upon. Security is important, but war is such a positively primeval way of life.”

[Russlande]

Grand Duke Nukai could feel feel his sister’s eyes looking at the back of his head through the doors of the Starseeker suite. Nukai let out a sigh. Gosh. No patience at all from that woman. He couldn’t work under these conditions. It had been much easier when he’d been by himself, but alas she did have a much better excuse than him to attend the festival. At least officially. Nukai rose from his seat, setting down the make up pen that he’d been balancing between his fingers and opened the door, leaning across the frameway as he looked down at the Petite Dauphiné. There were only a select group of people he couldn’t look down at, the Grand Duke being around 6’2”. Dressed in a suit as black as the void outside itself, minus the stars he cut an impressive figure. Which was the intent. It wasn’t his usual style, dark and chic, like a brooding fashion mannequin. He preferred happy bright colors. From his tailored jacket to his tie to his shoes, they were all black, shadows laid upon shadows. His one act of defiance was the pair of snow white semi-fingerless gloves that were virtually grafted onto his hands.

“Your Royal Highness.”

Nukai’s tone was playful and gentle. It was a mood that was virtually second nature to him. That of a pleased calm. He found that it disarmed others and comforted some. As had been the case when he’d first gotten the chance to use it amongst the grieving family of the Wessex Dynasty. Though he had no intention of being around any more grieving families anytime soon. This was supposed to mark peace, no? Nukai was a great supporter of peace. Just a particular type of peace. Or particular type of war, depending on one’s point of view on the matter. He preferred to think of it as a type of peace. The Grand Duke gave his older sister a polite bow. Nukai suspected that everyone had a small desire to have others now to them. Especially royals. There was some sort of lust for power and social recognition that seemed to run through so many, though admittedly not all, of the crowned people of the galaxy’s blood veins. Perhaps that was what made it blue. Assessing her face, Nukai guesses her concerns.

“You need not worry, I shall not keep you and the festival waiting. We are ready.”

[Royal Genes]

The Petite Dauphiné took a half step back from Nukai. She did not enjoy having to crane her neck up to look at him. She clasped her fingers together as she reviewed his appearance, thinking of the notes that she’d been given to consider in this mission to Stardock One. Those gloves. They drew attention to his hands. The Petite Dauphiné mentally debated if that would cause problems further along. She could see the necessary, if necessary, and practical point of wearing the gloves but she marked in a mental notepad that there was a quiet rebelliousness to Nukai that seemed to fly under the radar for most. If he were going to wear gloves that weren’t black why had he picked white of all colors? He should have picked red. Red suites him much better. She would have to dictate more of his wardrobe next time, that is if there is a next time. Which there would, for both the known and surreptitious reasons of their attendance to foreign events.

"Is that so? Where is he?"

The Petite Dauphiné stepped forward, reversing the half step that she'd taken, and putting the back of her hand against her brother's chest as she stepped into the suite of the Starseeker. Her steps were pronounced and careful, like a peacock looking over its domain, her skirts swirling behind her with every movement as she scanned the room. She pursed lips disapprovingly.

[Atmora]

The Ambassador took a sip of his champagne taking into consideration of what the King and the Queen said, he found it rather interesting the similarities between Atmora and New England in their way of thinking. However the similarities ended with the thoughts of peace. He spoke respectfully.

"Yes indeed the Admiralty would certainly agree a vessel must be multipurpose, capable of adapting to any situation it finds itself in and to perform it exceptionally. For if you design equipment to fulfill only one task then that leaves you vulnerable something that the Citadel found unacceptable especially since vessels take a few years to construct."

He then turned to Karola, still as youthful as the first time she met her during her coronation as the Queen of Pa'alatiin. The first ever recorded royal to marry an Alien king and possibly the first human to marry an alien, a rather awkward situation now that he thinks back on it. He responded to Karola's comment about the demilitarisation of her realm.

"Of course downsizing of the military is a great way to save money especially during times of peace. However it never hurts to be cautious and maintain a military large to discourage war. For it our responsibility as a collective to deter war and maintain peace, but to never force it."

[Austeira]

Alister Black studied the people around him, he didn't know why his father company had sent him here. The Karr & Black Bank was a well established investment bank in his home country, in fact the oldest bank in the country, besides the Royal Bank of Austeira of course, and his family had been a founding partner for all three hundred years the bank had been open. He looked towards the host of the festival the King of New England to be precise, and wondered if he should introduce himself, however he seemed preoccupied with another gentleman. Just being here was good for him, his father had pulled many strings to get him here, it was good for credibility, just being here meant the company could say that they were quickly spreading on the world stage, allowing them to then attract more investors. It was a good business strategy, but he didn't know anyone here, so how was he supposed to make that work, he wondered.

[Polonge]

Margaret returned Queen Sa'ea's smile, though hers was far brighter and entirely unreluctant opposed to the young Queen of Aogau's. Margaret pressed a slender hand to her chest. She was a bit surprised by just how soft the queen's voice was, like a little child's, which Margaret supposed that technically was the truth.

"Please, call me Margaret." Margaret lifted Charlotte's hand in her own. "This is Charlotte."

[Great Hyruke]

There was something fundamentally wrong with him being here. He was not suited to be apart of a festival for peace in New English space. He thought of travelling to space when laying on grassy hills and looking to the stars. He had not expected his first journey to be aboard a Gênoise yacht in hiding, posing as a servant for a future Queen. Certainly not for the reason he was here in the first, second and third place.

It was a good disguise. Not daring to touch the several layers of makeup that hid his identity, he couldn’t help but staring at his reflection that was not truly his. False brown eyes looked back through mirror back at him. His pale skin was given more color. Freckles that had not existed moments ago were splashed across his cheeks, made to look softer, his edges sawed down and smoothed by Nukai’s expert hands, a strange talent for the sailor prince. He was to be different but not striking. Plain. Forgettable. Pulling the tips of his fingers away from where they hovered over his altered visage and upward. He let his fingers comb through the once blonde, once white and now dark brown, bland and boring. There was some since of irony over this particular addition for this disguise. It was something that was supposed to be a trademark for his family, despite his generation being filled with blondes.

Hearing the entrance of the Petite Dauphiné, Julian Blackthorn spun around from the mirror to see the future Gênoise Queen. She was beautiful, though that was where any similarity Julian might have made between her and his beloved Cece would have ended. The Petite Dauphiné was a different type of beautiful. She was like a steel rose, cold and sharp to the touch, as if admiring too closely would lead to only the worst of injuries from those too foolish to stand back in awe. A dark glint existed in her eyes, one that told Julian, if the time came, to run as far away from her as possible. The task she’d give him was one that split his morality. Though the rewards she offered were so great, thus for the time being he had to strengthen his resolve. He bent at the waist as she approached. Julian rose from his bow, his eyes, masked by the brown contact lenses focusing on her chin. “I don’t want to do this.”

[Royal Genes]

The Petite Dauphiné rolled her eyes. She was impressed with Nukai’s handy work in crafting a face that didn’t look like one of the subjects of an international manhunt, good on him. Unfortunately the disguise appeared to be only skin deep and the Blackthorn’s prescient personality seemed to filter through. Honestly, he’d done nothing but complain and whine since he’d been separated from his previous Cece and Charles, at either of the two could stand the Blackthorn boy was a mystery to the Petite Dauphiné. Had things been left up to her, she probably would have tossed both Mr. Blackthorn and the Duke of Alicante off one of the Gênoise superskyscrapers and saved everyone, mostly herself, some trouble. Alas. Such choices were not up to her. Even the Petite Dauphiné had people above her whom she obeyed, and she did not yet have the title of Queen to decided to ignore the tasks given to her. Besides, whilst not as valuable as Alicante, Blackthorn was the very least expendable, which made her job significantly easier.

“I do not care what you want Mr. Blackthorn.”

It wasn’t a cruel statement, at least it was not the tone that the Petite Dauphiné used. Instead it was purely matter of fact. As if she had explained that the grass was green. She knew very well Blackthorn’s opposition to the duties that she had decided to entrust in him. The son of the former Hyrukian prime minister has not ceased to raise the topic of his discontent. Discontent that the Petite Dauphiné felt that had finally come time for her to crush, totally and absolutely, if only to get him to shut up about it. And ensure that he followed through. She twisted a ring around her finger. Perhaps she might have to be a bit cruel. She had no desire to have to worry about the Blackthorn boy whilst she charmed the various kings and diplomats at the festival.

“Unless, of course, what you want is for me to had you over to the authorities, so that you are imprisoned and extradited while your friends and family rot in prison and ill their eventual execution. After all, I would be happy to provide that option. Is that what you want?”

[Great Hyruke]

Julian looked down at his feet. They were covered in polish black shoes that went with the ash black and forest green livery of a footman that he’d been directed to wear, as to blend into the rest of the Petite Dauphine’s entourage. Her words cut deep. This rose the sole reason why he listened to the Petite Dauphiné. He had no desire to be handed over to authorities for a crime that he did not commit, and he had been assured by the Petite Dauphiné that it was only the Gênoise influence over the Dutch Crown that maintained Cece, Cornelius, Helena and his father’s safety. Julian has no clue how much truth there was to that, but he definitely knew that the Petite Dauphiné could easily make his life very difficult to put it lightly. Thus the cost to reward ratio was unfairly, but in truth, skewed options. Julian had to work with, or rather for, the Petite Dauphiné if only to survive. That didn’t mean that he had to enjoy it.

“No.” Julian’s voice was directed more at his shoes than at the Petite Dauphine. Trapped be between a rock and hard place, he added, “Your Royal Highness.”

Julian Blackthorn had grown up around royals for most of his life. His best friends were a prince and princess. Julian had always been aware of his lesser status in a world of monarchies and dynasties, but Charles and Cece had always been very down to earth. They’d treated him as their friend, equals with only public formalities breaking them up. There was a sense of camaraderie. The Petite Dauphiné did not invoke any such sense of camaraderie. He suspected, as he had learned from the visits of other foreign royals, that it was not an intentional imperious attitude but one of nature. This was a woman who had spent every one of her twenty odd years being primed and pampered over by an army of servants told that only Queens and Kings were her equal and everyone was a trivial detail. Julian, he suspected, was one of those trivial details in her mind.

[Royal Genes]

“Good.”

The Petite Dauphiné took a careful step towards the Blackthorn boy. She straighten his uniform and smiled, slipping a small device into his hands.

“I do not care much for you, but I am very easy to please, I assure you. Tonight you are a simple servant that no one need pay attention to. Put this on the ship and everything shall be fine. Be a servent, be quiet, and do as I command. Understand?”

The Petite Dauphiné however did wait for a response and spun on her heels, her red and white dress swirling like the petals of a blooming flower around her. She snapped her fingers and swept out of the suite, brushing past her brother. Back in the corridor of the starship she was joined by her schiavos, far better behaved than the whiny Blackthorn boy. The Petite Dauphiné snapped her fingers for Nukai and the Blackthorn boy to follow. She took a deep breath as she exited the Starseeker, painting a smile on her lips, the kind that young ladies who were still charmed and amazed by the world wore, and stepped out onto Stardock One. She took a quick survey of the scene and made a beeline towards King William and Queen Karola.

[Great Hyruke]

Julian jumped at being snapped at by the Petite Dauphiné. He step forward and look at Nukai. Nukai at least was nice. Julian couldn’t tell if the Russen Grand Duke was entirely aware of the machinations of the Petite Dauphiné. He had helped disguised him, but he did it without, you know, the ever present threat of the safety of his friends and family. He seemed so sweet and kind, it didn’t at all seem like he could be a co-conspirator with the cold hearted Petite Dauphiné. And yet. Nukai had been the one to come to Julian’s aid when he’d been arrested back in Great Hyruke, plucking out from the jaws of danger, sweeping him off to a foreign land. Delivering him however into the hands of the future Queen wasn’t exactly the kindest thing. Julian looked at Nukai, tilting his head. He wanted to ask him, if he was apart of his sister’s plans or was he as oblivious as he seemed. But instead he redirected his line of questioning towards the Petite Dauphiné.

“Is she always like this?”

[Russlande]

Nukai smirked at Julian Blackthorn. The Grand Duke found the middle Blackthorn child moderately nice, he supposed. Not very interesting, though clearly loyal to his friends, perhaps to a fault. Nukai viewed family loyalty to be the most important. Julian’s definition of family however seemed very different. Nukai could see why Cece love him. Nukai couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty for having caused so much chaos and danger in Julian’s life. He wished that Julian hadn’t been blamed for Arthur’s death, which he knew that wasn’t his crime. Of course. Nukai wasn’t exactly going to tell the truth. He had enough of is own ghosts clawing at his heart and whispering into his ears that he couldn’t pile any more guilt on to himself. The Grand Duke, watching as his sister disappeared through the doors of the Starseeker, made his way over to the vanity, picking up a small vial, the TCG logo stamped onto it.

“You should count yourself lucky,” Nukai said, popping the top of the vial. It was a special stolen mixture of enrikosvilla that he’d gotten from the King of Cinyras. Sort of. A long story. “When it comes to people outside of our family and nicety, she,” Nukai jerked his head in the direction of where she’d exited, “is the nice one.”

Grand Duke Nukai sprayed two bursts of the vial’s contents onto his wrists and rubbed them behind his ears. He set the vial down and walked back to the door, putting a hand on Julian’s shoulder reassuringly. He agreed with the Petite Dauphiné that it would, while not necessarily the greatest of the paths that life provided for one, be best for him to as she instructed. Best to please her and maintain some safety. Nukai naturally had to side with his sister, though he tried to remain focused on his own mission for the event. And he rather not be the one to get entangled in the crossfires in a battle of the wills of personalities between the two of them. Especially one he was certain that his sister would win. Making the entire effort pointless. Instead he tried to play the role of friend, one that he had tried to carefully craft. “Just try to do well,” he said. Grand Duke Nukai lead him down the corridor and disembarked from the Starseeker. He patted Julian on the back and gave him a wink.

[Aogau]

Queen Sa’ea nodded her head acknowledgment as Margaret told her their names. Though she wasn’t exactly sure their titles nor homeland, though she felt it would be terribly awkward for her to inquire about them. It had a very bad look to it did it not? And she had no desire to be one to come off as haunting and imperious, only willing to talk to royals, she didn’t, she wasn’t, but it was her place to know, and if she was going to be a new type of monarch then she had to rely on more than escorts handling all social interactions on her behalf.

“It is very nice to meet you both, Margaret and Charlotte. You are here to enjoy the peace festival as well I’m guessing. It is a nice gesture, no?”

[Makonia]

Queen Charlotte's interest and awe focused on the space station were stolen in a moment as her focus was snatched up by the new arrivals to the festival celebrating the concept of peace. Watching the handsome young man who'd just disembarked from one of those stylish new yachts that suddenly made her want to get Kresimir to buy her a new one. She hated having to follow the trends of the fashion capital of the galaxy but at the same time, she desperately wished to be in the same elite circle of those trendsetters. But the shiny and gleaming yacht pale in comparison to the tall, dark and handsome occupant who disembarked it. The Queen of Makonia bit her lip, a bit mesmerized by him and his void black suit, which she was certain that he'd look better out of.

"Shall we go speak with the King of New England?"

Charlotte barely glanced back at her husband at his statement, pr question, whatever, she hadn't been paying particular attention. She waved her hand.

"Yeah, yeah, sure, I'll, catch up with you later."

[Russlande]

Nukai let his eyes lazily look around the room, subtly taking in their surroundings. Unlike his sister, he didn’t walk with a particular direction in mind, though his stride were slow, they were confident, his ending point unknown, but his journey strong. He did have to handicap his steps, taking more deliberate but smaller ones, as if he were on display and had to make sure that the make believe audience didn’t miss a single detail.

“You are a servant,” Nukai said quietly, looking out at some far away point across the space station, though his words were clearly directed at Julian. He ran his leather glove clad fingers through his hair, musing the wavy locks as if he had not spent a great time and effort on them, but instead as if this was little more than a natural state of his. He woke up like this and didn’t very much care about it in particular. “Go and get some drinks or something.”

As he said this, Nukai caught sight of the Queen of Makonia’s eyes on him. He let his sights fall on her a few seconds later. The older woman was staring at him. Nukai felt this is what a wounded antelope must see before a lioness sank her fangs into him. A smirk rose on his lips, as if he and the Queen were sharing a secret.

[Great Hyruke]

Julian held back the urge to scoff. He hadn’t thought he’d actually have to play the role of a footman, or valet, or whatever it was that his uniform deemed him as. While he wasn’t royal or a member of the aristocratic class, he might as well have been with Blackthorn blood coursing through his veins. He came from a distinguished and respectable family, he was the one who had servants bring drinks to him. What was this madness that he found himself in?

Julian considered arguing against this, Nukai did seem infinitely more reasonable and friendly, ie less inclined to use him as a foot stool or threaten his life than the Petite Dauphiné, but ultimately decided against it. He decided the sight of a servant talking back to his suppose master might catch attention, and he did prefer to have the invisibility of someone unimportant at the festival at the moment. He mumbled to himself, annoyed, but setting off to find the drinks.

[Ryurik Rossiya]

With so many people around her and the slight chance of her not being there at all, Catherine unexpectedly gave up.She showed a clear disappointed expression for a few seconds before noticing an open chair near one of the tables in the hall.After sitting herself down in a second, she took the initiative to circulate the view around her."Well, it definitely looks fun, maybe I should expand my zone", mumbled the tsarina.

To save herself from boredom for the time being, she tenderly reached under her gown and took out her smartphone, which was strapped onto her right leg for convenience, concealed by her gown on the outside.Nevertheless, Catherine continued her monologues but her eyes seem fixed on something or someone distant."Eek, I need a drink".

[Makonia]

Queen Charlotte felt her pulse quicken as she caught the gaze of the handsome man. Was he Gênoise? She did adore Gênoise men. They were always gregarious lovers. But there was an certain sense... something icy, like a hiding under current beneath an innocent patch of water. An interesting mix in the young man that made Charlotte all the more interested. A fierce little wolf club, made all the more adorable by its potential. The Queen bit harder onto her lip, her fingers taking hold of the skirts of her white and yellow dress as she embarked across the room.

King Kresimir gave a glance at his wife, his beloved, his partner in crime and for the first time in his life felt a twinge of something that he’d never felt before. A word for it certainly existed, that he knew, but it eluded him. It was one that his emotional vocabulary had never needed to expand to before. This ignorance left him stunted in confronting it. So he chose not to. He instead ignored it and set his jaw.

“I think,” Kresimir mused, mostly to himself, “I will go fetch a drink.”

The state of her husbanding fetching a drink, apparently, didn’t matter much to Charlotte. She provided him with the same dismissive hand, finding herself smiling a bit more than she probably should at the handsome gentleman. The King and the Queen walked off in different directions. Kresimir in search for a drink, Charlotte, intent on another conquest.

[Russlande]

Nukai debated his response to seeing the Queen of Makonia approaching him. He decided that he should stand his ground but to, just a bit, play the naïve coquette. He looked away from the Queen of Makonia, letting his eyes rest here and there, anywhere except on the approaching consort. He wondered how many others could do so. The Consort of the Makonian sovereign was quite breathtaking. It was no wonder she’d taken her fair share of picks of paramours in the form of handsome young men. Though nearly a decade than Nukai, she held a mature sex appeal to her, that he noted. The way her eyes didn’t dare flutter but instead steeled, he imagine she was still looking at him as he followed the movement of Blackthorn and several other guests making their way to the drinks, was ghostly familiar. One might joke that Nukai had a type.

Grime jokes aside, Nukai found himself, ultimately, pretending to be looking at the gathered starships that dwarfed their many owners and controllers. Half pretending. He was somewhat interested in them. Especially in their usage in a world were warfare as they’d known it was fundamentally changed.

[Makonia]

Queen Charlotte pursed her lips, definitely taking notice of how the handsome gentleman hadn’t even spared her a second glance. She was not one to enjoy being ignored. And not being totally captivated by her overwhelming beauty was certainly something that she could not abide. The Queen of Makonia resolved that she would educate the handsome young man on the error of his was and prevent such a mistake from ever happening again. She stopped, stroll to a stand still at his side, placing an hand on his elbow as she followed his gaze to the panorama of starships approaching and docking and disembarking onto the station, along with the dark and yet glittery backdrop of the void of space and the surface of the exoplanet below them.

“It is a beautiful view, no?” Queen Charlotte mused, repaying the gorgeous man by not looking at him. His scent invade her nose, setting her blood on fire. There was something familiar about it, but her mind couldn’t think straight enough to recall from where.

[Russlande]

Nukai remained calm as he felt the Queen of Makonia’s slip her fingers around the crook of his arm. At least, his exterior, so carefully and meticulously crafted and maintained remained calm. His smirk turned into a full smile, as if they’d just created a new joke between them. On the inside however, Nukai felt his heart skip a beat. It was a skip of thrill. The kind of rush one got when they knew good and well they were doing something wrong. Like having the last slices of the cake meant for an entire crew. Or sneaking off a naval ship past curfew to go skinny-dipping in the sea with island locals. Or seducing someone else’s spouse. Not that Nukai had ever done any of those things. At least, no one could prove that he had. At the Queen of Makonia’s touch it was as if he were standing at at the edge of a cliff, the wind behind him and the wide open ocean in front of him. He had gotten a similar rush in his blood vessels when embarking on his first interplanetary journey, but this was a thousand times more intense than that. A strange kind of high, and yet also it made him feel a twinge of guilt. It was a strange cocktail of emotions that flooded him from the simple act of her touching him. One he swallowed with only a fraction of hesitation. Who didn’t love a bit of guilty pleasure and thrill?

“Indeed it is, so out of what we once called the world, it is amazing.” Nukai, mimicking the Queen of Makonia’s manner of talking, suppressing his accent, a relatively easy feat for one who’d experienced such a wide range of accents it was hard to identify which was precisely and truly his own. He gave one last glance at the starships and pivoted in a quarter circle so that he could look at the Queen of Makonia. This was a woman had perhaps it had been destiny to give a crown. Something about her told him that all that he had heard about her was not the product of her adapting, but of something within her nature. Nukai couldn’t help but find that aggressive ambition the lurked in the fire of her eyes quite attractive.

How many other men had been foolish enough to be lured into that flame, unaware that the closer they got the more they would be consumed?

“I,” Nukai stated, completing his entire turn now, blocking the view from the Queen. He leaned down, closer to her, leaving only inches between them, sliding his hands into his pockets. He looked directly into her eyes. He wondered if the flames in her eyes would peer into the ice in his own. “However, I think I prefer this view.”

[Makonia]

Charlotte looked at the handsome gentlemen , not that she had much choice but to. Nor did she very much mind. He was breathtaking. Her blood was like molten rock coursing through her veins. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her skin felt hot. Something had been tripped on her instincts. That scent? She knew that scent. It was like a hair trigger, activating something in her mind. She liked it.

“I think I must agree.”

Charlotte took hold of the handsome gentleman’s tie, sliding her thumb up and down the length of the dark fabric. She spoke in a slightly breathy tone.

“Positively awe-inspiring.”