From a Ristar to a Lady
- Chapter 11 -[]
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Haynes Palatial Manor
Innerman City, Inman
Milligan PDZ, Woodbine Operational Area,
21st February, 3061
2230 hrs (2230 hrs on local 28 hr cycle)
Immediately after returning from the Feast of Bounty banquet, Anastasia took off her cumbersome dress and got ready to rest. In the past, she must have gotten ill for a few days after every banquet because the servants immediately served her some medicine she recognised as prophylactics, and one of the maids gently massaged her legs to preempt any cramps.
Not that she really needed it now, with her improved physical condition, but she knew she could not afford to be careless with her health.
As sleep slowly descended on her, her thoughts floated and she reviewed the events of the day.
At the palatial manor, memories of Anastasia suddenly came to her, and the emotions of the original Anastasia began to surface. She harbored a pity for Baron Kalinski that Avryl would never have, and it was Anastasia who subtly guided her towards the reserved lounge. She then met that ****** Renard, and that was one of the worst experiences Avryl ever had. Which, coming from the hell which was warrior training in the sibko and the insanity of war in the Occupation Zone, said a lot.
Somehow, she felt a strong sense of rejection. It was annoying because the memories and emotions that were not hers kept popping up. Her memories and emotions belonged to her, yet why did the other person’s memories keep invading her thoughts at will?
Because of that discomfort, Anastasia laid in her bed with her eyes half-closed, but she only managed to sleep after a long time ruminating over her own thoughts.
Nevertheless, the following cycle, when the Baron kissed her on the forehead, she suddenly woke up, startled.
It was just an affectionate morning greeting between father and daughter, but to her, it still felt like she had received a kiss from a stranger. But, oddly enough, she did not feel too bad about it either..
“Did you sleep well?” The concern on his face was obvious.
She asked softly, “When did you come in?”
“I came back a little late. Sorry for letting you go home first.”
“It’s okay.”
Then her maid brought a wet towel. The Baron took it and wiped her face himself.
I can do this on my own. But the Baron seemed to want to do it, so she let him.
His hands were very soft, completely different from the tough, hardened hands of trained soldiers. Anastasia was a bit disappointed that he had left her alone among the people yesterday.
“I’m sorry, I’m still treating you like a child.”
“……?”
“You are an adult already. You look so much like Grace.”
‘Who is Grace?’ As Anastasia recalled her name to herself, the word ‘mother’ came to mind.
Again, she remembered something she didn’t know as Avryl. It fouled her mood, but Anastasia tried to ignore it and turned her gaze to the Baron.
The bittersweet look on his face surprised Anastasia. The feelings that parents felt when they saw their grown-up children was something Avryl could not comprehend at all.
She did not grow up in a normal family as traditionally understood. Once decanted from the canisters they gestated in, trueborns were raised in creches by caretakers, ‘sibparents’, who cared for them, educated them, and started training them in combat skills. Those who did not wash out are promoted into sibling companies, ‘sibkos’, where their training was intensified to prepare them to serve their clan as warriors. In Clan Smoke Jaguar, there was little emotional attachment between the caretakers and their charges. Avryl did not even know what happened to her own sibparents. Probably rotting somewhere after the Clan’s annihilation. She made a mental note to find out if it was even possible to track them down.
Many children and cadets did not even wash out of training into the lower castes. They died, and few tears were shed for their passing. The common refrain by her sibparents and Kit Masters was often, “They were not good enough.”
So family was very much a foreign concept to her. She really had nothing close in her experience to compare the Baron to.
“I heard that Viscount Rason escorted you yesterday. I heard he is nice to you. I was worried, but his behaviour has now assured me you are in good hands.”
At the Baron’s words, Anastasia smiled wanly. He’d faint if she said that at their first meeting, she had asked Finn to divorce her as soon as they got married.
No, even more so once he finds out that there’s no Anastasia, but a Smoke Jaguar mechwarrior inhabiting her body.
He put away the towel, and they laughed together. Strangely, that spread some warmth in her heart.
“I can spend the whole cycle with you today. Do you want to go shopping?” Although the day after the Feast of Bounty was also a public holiday, the shops would still be open for business.
Anastasia shook her head. She could feel her energy levels were still low from the banquet, so she thought she should take a rest. Still, the Baron’s proposal made her happy. He must have been aware that she was frustrated while taking the etiquette classes.
“Father, you need to rest, too.”
At that, the Baron widened his eyes and then smiled.
“Ana, you have matured. Grown up.”
Soon after, they were eating a small breakfast together and drinking tea when a maid brought a letter to Anastasia and handed it to her. Anastasia was astonished to learn that it was from Count Haynes.
“Unfortunately, I didn’t get to have a word with you last night. I have some questions I would like to ask you. I have arranged for a short meeting at 1200 hrs without anyone disturbing us.”
Maybe it was because of what she did to Renard? She thought he wouldn’t talk because he would be ashamed, but did he inform his father? Maybe he was dumber than she thought.
Anastasia’s fingertips trembled slightly at her shock. Baron Kalinski also looked at the letter and spoke with concern.
“I heard Count Haynes was looking for you yesterday, but I didn’t know he would even invite you like this.”
“Was he looking for me?”
When she asked, the Baron nodded his head.
“Was he angry?”
“No, I don’t think so…”
Does he really know nothing? Or was Count Haynes hiding his intentions from Baron Kalinski? It was true that this invitation felt somewhat ominous as the Count’s intentions were unknown.
Anastasia frowned upon seeing the Count’s seal on the letter.
The seal of the Trivet was three items juxtaposed on each other, a stalk of wheat, a gemstone, and a dagger, symbolising the purpose of each world in the Trivet. Of course, the mailed fist set against a sunburst was also present, the symbol of the Federated Commonwealth.
Without realizing it, she was holding the letter so tightly that it was crumpling under her grip.
The phrase ‘without anybody disturbing us’ meant that Anastasia had to enter the manor alone.
Baron Kalinski offered to accompany her, but she refused, thinking that the Count should have a good reason to see her alone.
22nd February, 3061
1600 hrs (1200 hrs on local 28 hr cycle)
Anastasia had a feeling she would still be a frequent visitor to the Haynes palatial manor, even after her very scandalous breakup with Renard Haynes.
Following her attendant, she noted the Haynes household guards patrolling the manor. It was, she supposed, an occupational routine, to observe the habits and movements of possibly hostile soldiers. The men were all wearing red uniforms. She vaguely remembered the local militia wore uniforms of a different colour, the green of the AFFC.
Avryl recalled studying reports on how planetary forces in the Inner Sphere were organized, along feudal, planetary, and/or state lines, in preparation for her raids into the Draconis Combine. It was enough to make her head hurt. The clan structure was, she determined, far easier to organize.
“Is there something wrong, my lady?”
“Oh, nothing is wrong.”
Anastasia realized that she was too deep in her thoughts and shook her head at the attendant’s words.
The dress uniform of Clan Smoke Jaguar was the same for all its warriors, grey with black and scarlet piping. They only distinguished each other by the daggerstars that denoted their rank, plus maybe one or two decorations and awards that only the very best and bravest managed to attain.
Then she made eye contact with the household guards. As Anastasia greeted them with her eyes as a courtesy, they passed her blushing and coughing. She rolled her eyes, not impressed with their self-control when faced with a beautiful woman.
Walking down the hallway leading to the Count’s office, Anastasia mentally checked what she was going to say.
Hmmm… She could fake crying. Obviously, if it was Avryl, it would never work, but if it was Anastasia, Count Haynes might believe her when she said Renard assaulted her. Besides, it was the truth that she did not give him consent at all.
So, would it be better to be honest? She had absolutely no intel on Count Haynes’s personality, she could not figure out the best way to talk to him. In such a case, maybe it was better to keep quiet instead?
After much thought, at the end of the hallway she saw a thick, ornate door. She figured it must be the door to his office.
The door opened, and Anastasia carefully stepped onto the rich grey carpet.
She kept her eyes down, as instructed by Madame Iris, so Anastasia could only see his desk.
Although she stood before him, the Count remained silent for several moments. Anastasia finally grabbed the hem of her skirt and curtsied politely.
“Lady Anastasia Kalinska, heir to Baron Boris Kalinski, greets Count Haynes, master of the Trivet.”
The greeting she thought she would not be able to pull off came out smoothly.
“No need to be so formal,” he scoffed, “look up.”
She raised her head and looked at the Count.
As she had guessed, he did not look impressive in the least. Just a slightly obese old man with greying hair. In the clans, warriors his age would already be sent out as cannon fodder to soak up bullets. But up close, his eyes were shrewd and cunning, and she instinctively recognized she should be cautious around him.
“How old were you when I first saw you?”
“I was twelve years old, my lord.”
Without even thinking about it, she answered the question. She supposed if she got it wrong, she could claim she didn’t remember. Even the Count would not be idle enough to remember the age of a young girl.
“Yes, it was.”
What… she was right?
Then she realized that the reason she answered correctly was that her body remembered it. Anastasia’s memory was still there. Somehow.
“I still remember you hiding behind Baron Kalinski’s legs, peeking out at me. But now you are able to look straight at me. Are you not afraid of me now?”
Are you not afraid of me now? It was an ambiguous question, dangerously phrased. Despite his appearance, the Count was not easy to deal with. Anastasia controlled her breathing and spoke.
“My lord, do you want me to be afraid of you?”
The Count smirked. “I asked first. You should answer.”
It meant that he did not want the usual games of wordplay and evasive answers. The calm atmosphere tensed up. Anastasia felt a bit of cold sweat on her back under his piercing gaze.
Anastasia tried to understand the Count’s intentions. This man had ruled the Trivet since before Anastasia or Avryl were even born, and she had to admit that he was different from the people she had usually dealt with in the past. Despite his looks, his eyes were as shrewd as any Khan’s.
She decided to speak honestly, “I cannot answer that question, my lord, because I do not understand why you would even ask such a question.” If this was a kind of test, she didn’t know the answer, so how should she answer it?
She didn’t know the Count’s intentions and she had no way to escape. So, she figured it was better to be honest. Internally, she cursed vehemently. Despite what he implied, they were still engaged in word games. She hated playing all these political games as Avryl since she had no real talent for it, not even in the clans.
Oh sure, the Clans claimed they were above politics, but as naive as she was, even she knew better.
He waved a hand, “Tell me more.”
Anastasia raised her eyes. “My lord, I am not clever nor do I have the skills to determine what you really want. If you ask me if I’m afraid, yes, I’m afraid. My lord has the power to punish my family. But if you’re talking about yourself, the person sitting in front of me right now, talking to me at this moment, I’m not afraid.”
At that, the Count smirked.
“It is my power that is scary, but you are not afraid of myself, as a person?” he asked.
“Yes, my lord.”
A heavy silence fell upon him. It wasn’t a lie, wasn’t that actually true for most people? Yes, she was very wary on the few occasions she came face to face with Lincoln Osis, the Khan of the Smoke Jaguars, because he had both the authority to destroy her and the physical prowess to easily snap her into half with his bare hands.
But the Count was not physically imposing. Rather, it was the authority he wielded that made him dangerous.
Count Haynes looked straight at Anastasia, and Anastasia held his gaze steadily.
His silent search came and went, and the Count kneaded his forehead several times.
Despite his inexplicable actions, Anastasia’s feelings were calm because the Count did not seem to be angry. This was Avryl’s own intuition. Soon, as she expected, the Count lifted the corner of his mouth and laughed.
“You are going to give Baron Kalinski and Viscount Rason headaches.”
Why is he mentioning that stupid Finn here? Anastasia groaned inwardly. Fortunately, she didn’t seem to have said anything that would get her into trouble.
“There is no simple answer to my question. I just asked for its own sake.”
Did he really have to ask that supposedly simple question while obviously creating tension in the room? Anastasia wanted to protest against his unfair tactics, but she bit her tongue.
“Everyone always tries to guess the meaning of my words.”
Well, duh. That was only to be expected. The Count had almost absolute power in the Trivet, who would dare cross him if they said something wrong?
“Sometimes, what I say is just what it is.” He smiled and beckoned Anastasia to sit down on a seat in the room. After a moment’s hesitation, Anastasia sat down. She took a closer look at the Count.
His eyes were black, a color anyone could have, his nose was blunt, and his mouth was wrinkled. If he didn’t sit on the throne and wasn’t clad in rich robes, would anyone be able to think of him as the ruler of the Trivet?
Again, she could not help but contrast him against the leaders of the clans. Every single one of the Khans exuded charisma, authority, and menace, even the septuagenarians of Clan Nova Cat, no matter what they wore.
“Girl, I don’t have any ill intentions towards you. Look at you. You were just a child hiding behind her father. But now you’re all grown up, standing proudly before me as a noble lady. I can feel the years weigh on me.”
“My lord, I cannot remain a child forever.”
When Anastasia answered without hesitation, the Count nodded. Then he looked straight at Anastasia. He stroked his chin with one hand.
“I knew that you had a special relationship with Renard, but I did not consent officially to your relationship. Why do you think so?” he asked.
“Isn’t it because you don’t like me?”
The Count was taken aback by her direct reply. Anastasia was overly blunt, and she knew she did not have much tact. Maybe that was why Avryl often got into trouble back in the clan. If it was not for the bloodname she had earned, and the support of saKhan Brandon Howell, she would have been stuck back in the homeworlds on dreary garrison duty, and probably died there instead of on Garstedt.
“…Why did you think so?” asked the Emperor, puzzled.
“Because Baron Haynes said so.”
“Tsk. Tsk. My son has no respect.” He clicked his tongue and frowned.
“I never said anything like that. It was simply dynastic politics. I hoped, still hope, in fact, that Renard would be able to marry the daughter of a powerful lord elsewhere in the realm, solidifying our ties with other worlds to bring gains for the Trivet. You, on the other hand, would not bring anything to the table. That is why I did not approve of your relationship.”
Well, that made sense.
“But I didn’t know that you were so serious about your relationship with Renard. Serious enough to jump into the manor lake. If I knew your determination, I would have reconsidered my decision.”
From the look on his face, Anastasia realized why she was not punished for her massive scandal she created by jumping into the manor lake. The Count wanted to bury the issue.
“Do you still love Renard? If you truly do not want it, I can break your engagement with Viscount Rason.”
And now, with these words from the Count, Anastasia knew that the Count had no idea what she had done to Renard yesterday. She sighed in relief mentally.
The reason the Count had called her aside was to ask her opinion without any interruption.
Well, it probably was not difficult for him to break her engagement, but if so, she might get engaged to that bastard Renard instead.
Neg, she knew when to fold her cards instead of taking unnecessary risks.
“Thank you for your concern, my lord, but my relationship with Baron Haynes, it’s over.”
At Anastasia’s words, the Count looked puzzled for an instant and then smiled softly, as if he understood.
“Has Viscount Rason treated you well?”
“He has not been unkind to me.”
At Anastasia’s words, the Count burst into laughter again. “He is not a bad fellow.”
Anastasia frowned, not answering that. Seeing her expression, the Count nodded his head as if he knew what was going on.
“Girl, you are not good at hiding your true feelings.”
She heard that almost every day when she was Avryl. In critical situations, she could master her own facial expressions, but once she thought it was safe, she just relaxed and dropped her guard.
“House Rason controls Delacambre. It is heavily fortified and produces much of our advanced technology and military supplies. Their soldiers are well-trained, and he’s not exactly lacking for money. Finally, he’s not ugly. You should find him a decent catch.”
“Well, I think so.”
When she answered reluctantly, the Count grinned and shook his head in a slightly mocking manner.
“If you ever want to end your engagement, just tell me. It is for that reason that I have called you today. If the relationship isn’t right, then we need to fix it.”
If she asked him to end her engagement here, will Anastasia be linked with Baron Haynes? If she were the real Anastasia, she would welcome it, but she didn’t want to marry that ******. Viscount Finn Rason was infinitely better. Anastasia suppressed her own feelings of discomfort towards accepting the idea of marriage so easily and expressed her gratitude.
“Thank you, my lord.”
“Yes. Just one last thing.”
Anastasia tilted her head in silent query.
“It was a brave feat, taking down that Harvester Agromech. In so doing, you also quelled the riots. Do you wish for any reward?”
None from your hands, she thought. It would make her beholden to him. Besides, she knew her actions were highly suspicious and the best course of action was to just lie low and let the matter rest.
“No reward is needed, my lord. I merely got lucky.”
He nodded. “Well, the offer always stands. Thank you for coming to meet me.” He gestured for her to leave. The Count had work to do, and he had made time to meet her.
Anastasia once again curtsied and left the meeting room. The attendant waited outside the door and immediately plastered herself to her side the moment she stepped out.
As she walked along with the attendant, she thought about how she felt. She knew she was not good at emotional thinking, but it was easy for her to be honest with herself. But now, she admitted she was somewhat confused.
The nobles of the Inner Sphere were decadent, but not all were degenerates like Renard. The Count seemed decent enough, and she knew from experience that Finn was stupid but honorable. There were others, like the samurai of the Draconis Combine, many of whom had bravely met their deaths against her Binary. She had learned to respect the warriors of the Inner Sphere.
But this was the first time she had a bit of respect for somebody from the Inner Sphere who was not a warrior. She felt a bit confused.
She realised she had lost attention of where she was going. The attendant next to her smiled blandly, “My lady, is something the matter?”
“Uhm, where are we going?”
The attendant suddenly looked stricken. “Oh, I’m so sorry! Since it is around 1200 hrs, I thought it was time for you to have your meal, so I’m bringing you to a lounge where we would serve you refreshments. Is that acceptable, my lady?”
“Oh.” She did not feel hungry, caught up in the stress of meeting the Count, but she supposed she could eat something now. “Yes please, lead the way.”
The attendant brought her to a luxurious lounge with tasteful leather sofas, and dominated by a huge viewscreen adorning one side of the wall. Advanced projectors at the sides hinted that it had an alternate holovid mode for full color holographic projections for the latest in media entertainment,
“This lounge is reserved only for important guests, my lady.” The attendant explained. “Food will be served shortly. Feel free to use the noteputers or to browse the channels available for the viewscreen and holovid.”
Anastasia’s eyes lit up. Dual mode viewscreen/holovid for her use? She had been so overwhelmed with the deluge of dance and etiquette lessons in recent weeks that she did not even have time to indulge her own interests.
Watching historical movies, particularly those involving intricate strategy and massive battles, was one of her hidden pleasures. But back in the Kalinski estate, she had been too busy to do so, and anyway, they didn’t have such shows in their database because ‘they are too violent and not suitable for a lady’.
And this viewscreen was much bigger than any found in the estate, and way bigger than what the clans could ever countenance, even when using a holotank to conduct strategic planning. She idly wondered how much it cost. Anyway, she had a bit of time, maybe she could squeeze in something relatively short and particularly violent?
The latest Solaris Grand Tournament matches? Given that the latest edition only concluded in November of the previous year, there was a high chance they might have received the latest holovids. Yes, those might be fake warriors merely playing at the real thing, but some of them were veterans of the Clan front and worthy of respect.
She picked up the remote, and switched it on. She typed in the keyword ‘Solaris’, and a spate of options opened up on the screen. Her eyes glanced over the options available, then she started when she saw the name ‘Garrett Smoke Jaguar’. Matched against Jamie Ferraro.
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Mad Dog Heavy OmniMech
Without reading the synopsis of the match, she just played it. The entire arena formed a three dimensional projection in front of her, and two mechs stalked each other from opposite ends. The high resolution enabled her to easily identify the mechs, Garrett’s Mad Dog, and his opponent’s Flashman.
The battle was over in minutes. Garrett fought with the expected fury of a Smoke Jaguar, riding his heat levels relentlessly to pin down his opponent, then pouncing on and finishing off Jamie’s Flashman with a barrage from his Mad Dog’s SRM racks. The Mechwarrior duelist in Anastasia noted that Garrett ran too many risks for her liking, and against a more patient foe, could be undone by his own ferocity.
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Flashman Heavy 'Mech in combat
Though the match was short, the commentators provided enough information for her to learn that Garrett was a survivor from the Occupation Zone, and made his way to Solaris with his omnimech. Omnimechs were superior to normal Battlemechs due to their modular weapons systems and quicker ease of repair for damaged weapons components, greatly simplifying logistics and could be customized to suit specific terrain or battle conditions. With clan-spec weapons, Garrett’s Mad Dog gave him a decisive edge in most duels.
It gave her hope. There should be more survivors like Garrett, so her binary could have survived!
She flipped through the menu again. There were some more matches that could possibly be of interest, and she was about to select one of them when the door suddenly barged open.
It was a man with black glasses, with long blond hair down to his shoulders.
He was struggling with several books while using his body to keep the door open. Then, Anastasia and the man’s eyes met.
“Ahhhh!”
He dropped all the books he was holding as if startled by her appearance in the room. The books did not male a loud noise on the carpeted floor, and they scattered all over.
Anastasia automatically crouched down to pick up the books. When she looked at the first book in her hand, she noticed that it was a love story with an unusually long and lurid title.
“Lady Kalinska, this is heavy.”
Does he know me? Then Anastasia remembered that the man was the second son of the Count, Raymond.
“Greetings, my lord…”
“Ahhhh!”
Raymond was about to wave his hand, saying it was okay to skip the greeting, but he dropped the book he had just picked up again.
Freebirth, is he stupid? She started picking up the book again.
“Ugh, I’m sorry, my lady.”
The future of the Trivet did not bode well. The heir Renard was just garbage, and the second son was an imbecile.
Then she put her hand on the last book at the same time that Raymond’s hand reached for it.
“Hmmm…?”
At the familiar touch on the back of her hand, she widened her eyes and looked at Raymond. He smiled, not knowing why. Anastasia furrowed her eyebrows very slightly. This man was dangerous.
“My lady, allow me.”
Anastasia quietly removed her hand from the book. He placed the last book on his pile and easily lifted the whole stack. Anastasia narrowed her eyes at him.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t disturb you. I thought this room was not in use.”
Anastasia forced herself to be polite. “No, it’s fine.”
He smiled, and given what she just learned, it only made him seem more dangerous.
He placed the stack of books on a table. “I like to do my reading here, and enjoy the viewscreen too. Do you know this is the biggest dual mode viewscreen in the entire manor, and in the entire Trivet? It’s a special customized import from New Avalon too.”
Her eyes widened a bit.
He rambled on, “My mother thought it was a waste of money, but my father the Count insisted. To impress our guests, he said. So we got it, and since we have it, might as well enjoy it.”
He glanced over at the options menu presented on the screen, and Anastasia cursed inwardly.
“Solaris Grand Tournament matches?” His eyes glowed with interest. “I didn’t know my lady was into this sort of thing.”
She thought fast. “My fiance is a Mechwarrior. I thought I should perhaps learn a bit about his profession.”
“Oh, Viscount Rason would like that, my lady.” He flicked through the menu, “But may I suggest something milder than the Solaris Games? Something more educational perhaps?”
Anastasia nodded her head slowly and reluctantly. She knew he was trying to manipulate her, but there was nothing she could do without revealing her own expertise.
He continued to talk, flicking through the available options, yammering away with his recommendations, while Anastasia silently observed him.
He was a handsome man with a docile, scholarly look. The way he talked was smooth and suave, a marked contrast from Finn’s direct strength. It seemed he also loved to talk, but Anastasia felt it was a facade because there was an undercurrent of suspicion about him.
“My lady?”
“Oh, nothing. Carry on with your suggestions.”
Raymond seemed to be laughing at her. Anastasia hoped the food would arrive soon so she would have a reason not to talk to him any further. She very well could not ask him to shut up.
“Oh, what’s this?” Raymond exclaimed. A pop-up appeared in a corner, stating ‘News update!’
“My lady, do you mind if I find out about the latest news?”
She waved a hand, “Go ahead.” The way she saw it, nothing interesting particularly happened on Inman. The most exciting recent events were the Feast of Bounty celebrations, the Harvester incident, and the riots. She wondered what the latest update was about.
He pressed a control on the remote, and the holographic menu disappeared to a two-dimensional image on the viewscreen, showing a female presenter in a studio.
“The Archon-Princess has expressed her full confidence in the Trivet’s local forces to fend off any enemy attacks. Let us now go to the press conference, where Captain Sir Spencer Larouche will brief us on how the additional funds from the AFFC will be used to bolster our defenses.”
The image cut to a small stage with a podium.
Then her world suddenly narrowed to just the viewscreen.
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Katrina (Katherine) Steiner-Davion, Archon-Princess
Pence Lamongue was standing at the podium. He was clad in the red uniform of the Haynes household guards, wearing his usual oily smirk. He bore no signs nor scars of the bitter struggle against the Inner Sphere. His uniform was clean and well-pressed, and he looked every bit the part of a charismatic mechwarrior officer.
But she knew better. She could not hear anything else except the blood rushing through her head, her ears. Her vision was tinged with red. She had no idea what was going on or what that treacherous stravag piece of dezgra dung was saying, but she hardly cared.
She just wanted him dead, or at least out of her sight. She did not even notice when she had grabbed a nearby flower pot.
“My lady!”
It took a while for Raymond’s voice to register in her brain.
“Put down that pot, my lady! It’s dangerous!”
She turned to him, her demeanor icy cold. She placed the pot on the table, then used both hands to hold Raymond by his collar, and gave him a hard shake.
“Who is he?”
“Don’t you know him? He’s the commander of our household guards.”
"Very well." She let go of his collar, and reached for the pot to throw it at the holoprojector.
"No!" Raymond grabbed it at the same time, their hands on opposite edges of the pot.
Anastasia didn’t care. She still wasn’t nowhere as strong as she needed, wanted, to be, but she knew leverage. She stepped in, twisting her body so that she could put both hands on the pot and wrench it from his single handed grasp.
He reacted almost instinctively, his feet carrying him away from her so that he could still put his other hand on the pot.
Her eyes narrowed at his sudden economy of movement, which spoke of extensive training, especially for warriors. “You are a Mechwarrior. Stop acting dumb!”
Raymond’s gaze changed in an instant. From a nerdy wimp, his gait changed to that of a man in his prime. He smiled mischievously, and gave Anastasia a look of sheer curiosity. He seemed to be very interested in her situation now.
“You should have seen Captain Larouche before. But then again, you only ever had eyes for Renard,” he mused, one hand still on the pot.
“…Captain Larouche?”
“More precisely, Captain Spencer Larouche. He’s the military aide to the Count and as I already said, commander of our household troops. My lady, are you interested in him, instead of Viscount Rason?”
Her face paled on hearing Raymond’s words. Her mouth turned up in a sneer at the insinuation.
“My lady, I apologies for misunderstanding. So you’re not interested in him? He’s just a former officer from the LAAF we took on to improve our defenses. He’s especially close to Renard. His nickname around these parts is ‘Renard’s Ass-wiper’”
She yanked at the pot again, this time using both hands, but his single hand was just able to hang on to it..
Raymond tsked. “This viewscreen is expensive. Can’t let it get wrecked.” He shrugged in regretful exasperation, then his free hand descended on the back of her neck. Knowing what this meant, she still struggled to hold onto consciousness.
But her vision was getting blurry. Then, at some point, darkness came, and she collapsed on the spot.
- Chapter Note from the Author
- Well, now we know where Pence Lamongue ended up.