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He was right. It was in her blood.
Her mother would have a fit when she found out that Dorothy was going, but Dorothy didn't plan to give her mother a chance to find out before she left. Milliard wanted to leave in two days, or earlier, and by the time the duchess heard the news, Dorothy would be far away from Earth.
No doubt her mother would take action, threatening everything possible from cutting off her inheritance to giving the title to someone else, but she wasn't worried. The duchess had no power of her own to do anything to Dorothy's title or inheritance, and even if she somehow succeeded…it didn't matter. Dorothy Catalonia was not cut out to be a high-class noblewoman, and it was time she showed her mother this.
Pulling back the curtain to the small room that adjoined the main entrance foyer, she watched Milliard's sleek convertible pull out of the circle drive and through the open gates. The noise of the engine and the headlights disappeared into the night, and she let the curtain fall, sighing.
When he'd held her hand today she had almost cried, knowing it was nothing. Not to him. She had loved him since she had first met him, but his heart was given to someone else. She could see it in his eyes, when she had mentioned the name Noin. Just a simple name. Amazing what power even a name could have over a man.
They had both been children five years ago, but a child like Dorothy had been to more balls and formal functions than she could remember. The granddaughter of Duke Dermail had learned her political skills well, and more than one guest had remarked to her grandfather upon leave-taking about his "exceedingly bright" grandchild.
Duke Dermail had smiled and nodded and downplayed her significance. That was important, of course, because she was one of the most significant assets he'd had.
That's all she ever had been. An asset.
She'd never had fun at the parties, wandering aimlessly around dressed in the expensive ballgowns that were made especially to show her off like the property she was. She was not a person, but a thing to be looked at, to be admired, to be used. She was a computer, a data mine of information, a political planning device. Not a girl.
Dorothy had dreamed of running away, more than once, but there was nowhere she could go, and she hadn't been quite willing to leave her grandfather. There were some privileges in her position in the household and in the Romefeller Foundation, and as long as she had her small amount of privacy, running away wasn't quite worth it.
When her grandfather had mentioned a ball, she'd sighed inwardly and smiled at him. Yes, another ball. Yes, more important guests to lead astray. Yes, another night of pointless chatter and dancing and music. She was tired. She wanted to go take a nap, not sat down in a chair and made up and dressed up until she didn't even recognize herself when she looked in the mirror.
OZ is coming, he said. There will be many of their officers here tonight.
She blinked at him. That was a new one. OZ? To the ball?
He nodded. Listen carefully to what you hear tonight, Dorothy. OZ is our new weapon. You will be one of the ones pulling the strings, and I need you to file away every spare bit of information you acquire tonight. Can you do that?
She smiled. Of course, Grandfather.
She'd gone to the computer after that, trying to dig up everything on OZ she could find. It wasn't often that military personnel were present at these parties, and so far, what she had heard on OZ had been very interesting. Not like the boring Federation generals with the long beards who stood around with the same glass of wine in one hand all night and talked in long, slow sentences. OZ was an enigma, a mystery that her grandfather had kept even from her, and at long last she was being let in on the secret.
It was exciting.
The officers of OZ were young, clean shaven and dressed in uniforms that shone with golden highlights in the light of the ballroom candelabra. She watched from the balcony above the dance floor as her grandfather greeted them, showed them to the bar and to the long table with the catered foods. There were female officers too, unlike in the Federation where all of them were men.
Dorothy.
Yes, Grandfather?
One of the top OZ officers will be arriving shortly, and I want you to come down to meet him. He will be one of the leaders very soon, and he's the one you need to watch.
Yes, Grandfather.
He's also your cousin.
Cousin?
The officer and cousin in question was named Treize Khushrenada. She had hardly met any of her relatives who were not immediate family, and it was always interesting to explore the side roots that her family had produced. As he came in the door, Dorothy could see the resemblance. He had her mother's eyes. She could see at once that he was different, even in this group where each of them were already different. He carried himself with the air of a man who was always right and knew it, and the look in his eyes was predatory and calculating.
She could see herself in him.
When Duke Dermail introduced them she smiled and took his hand, curtseying in her heavy ballgown. She could feel Khushrenada's eyes on her, and when she looked up, he had a curious look on his face.
Your granddaughter, your Grace? A most remarkable young woman.
Thank you sir
No, he intoned softly, bringing her hand up to touch his lips. Thank you.
Khushrenada knew exactly who she was, Dorothy had realized in that moment, and he admired her for it. She felt slightly flattered.
There were two people accompanying the OZ officer. One was a bespectacled, severe-looking woman who didn't even meet Dorothy's eyes but simply swept away after Khushrenada. Dorothy wrinkled her nose slightly in her wake. She'd have to watch out for that one. The woman was most likely a top aide or bodyguard, and if she was to infiltrate Khushrenada's secrets, that woman would be her obstacle.
She looked around for the other person who had come in with them, but he was nowhere to be seen. Shy, perhaps? She had yet to see a shy OZ officer. Slightly upset that she had missed someone, she wandered over to the table and fixed herself a small sandwich, eating it while leaning against the wall and watching the people dance. Khushrenada, she noticed, was dancing with the severe-looking woman, who actually didn't look as severe as she had earlier.
More than friends? Lovers, perhaps?
Dorothy finished off her sandwich and washed the bread down with a small glass of water, then scanned the ballroom. She was too young to dance with any of the officers, and she despised dancing. It was something at which she was talented but preferred not to do too often. It was too hard to dance and watch at the same time, and she preferred watching.
It was so much more…fun.
Excuse me, ojosama?
She turned…into a vision of blue and gold and silver, a face covered by a bright silver mask, vivid blue eyes gazing at her uncertainly through it, and gold hair framing the uncommon sight.
Pardon me for not introducing myself earlier.
She was speechless. The beautiful masked face in front of her could not belong to a human being. An mysterious angel, perhaps, or a demigod. The perfect mouth and firm, proud chin trailed up to mysteries beneath the silver mask. He was dressed in the uniform of an OZ officer, but was clearly younger than the rest of them. One long-fingered, perfect hand came up to brush a strand of glittering hair away from his face.
My name is Zechs Merquise. I am a second lieutenant in the Specials and I was invited to the ball along with Treize Khushrenada. I saw you looking for me earlier but I had some business to take care of.
Zechs Merquise. The name echoed in her mind. She felt dizzy.
The light glittered off his hair as he moved, bringing up one hand in a graceful gesture towards her.
I take it you are Lady Dorothy Catalonia? I have heard much about you.
She stared at him, drinking him in with her eyes, and for once in her life, she couldn't find the words to respond.
So she did what any starstruck foolish girl would do. She took a step back, spun around, and simply walked off.
Dorothy Catalonia, the world's greatest fool.
Once safely back in the darkness of her hiding place over the railing, she relived the entire scene in her mind, mentally cursing herself for what she'd done. If she had just spoken to him, had the nerve to say a few words, they could still be talking right now. It wasn't like he had anyone else to talk to, and he had looked about her age. She could have had someone to relieve her of her boredom.
Besides, she was supposed to learn all she could about OZ, and what better person to ask than Zechs Merquise?
Never mind the fact that he was the most beautiful young man she had ever seen. Even with the mask. Especially with the mask.
Dorothy had always pitied the girls her age who giggled about boys and dating and more taboo subjects. She didn't need that. She was mature, handling information that most adults did not even have access to, a valuable member of the Romefeller Foundation, and talented at anything she had ever laid hands on. The other girls were jealous of her, she knew.
She had never needed to think about boys.
Zechs Merquise's face lingered in her mind and she leaned over the railing, trying to search him out amidst the sea of bodies below. She finally spotted him by the food table, talking to a tall female OZ officer. Her heart jumped in her chest, and doubts nagged at her mind. He probably already had a girlfriend at the academy, after all. What right had she to think about him like that?
It was a one-night crush. She'd forget about him tomorrow.
With an explosive sigh, she got to her feet. It was pointless to just stay here. She didn't care what her grandfather wanted her to do. She was going to go back to her room, change into her fencing uniform, and practice her forms.
She was going to forget about Zechs Merquise.
The way he had looked at her…as if she were someone in her own right…as if she were more than a tool to be used.
After all these years, he hadn't changed in that respect. Aboard the Libra they had been distant, and remembering that first meeting, Dorothy could understand why. She thought she had forgotten about him, but when she'd seen him it all came rushing back to her, and when he had looked at her with those blue eyes and asked her to control his mobile dolls for him, she could hardly speak.
It was the same.
She was such a fool.
Zechs had used her…but he was different. He hadn't forgotten about her after he was done with her. He respected her.
She thought she loved him.
Dorothy Catalonia wasn't exactly sure that she knew what love was, but if it meant a simple longing, a dream, a desire to go anywhere, anyplace he asked her to, then she did.
The lights from the driveway outside dimmed, and she realized that the generators had powered down for the night after the sensors had detected Milliard's car leaving. It was late. It was time for her to forget this foolishness and go to bed, since he would be back early in the morning.
She had to pack.
He called himself Milliard Peacecraft now, but she would always think of him as Zechs Merquise, as the bright and beautiful young man she had met at that party all those years ago, when they were young. When they had been young but not innocent.
War was not for the innocent, and neither was love.
Milliard Peacecraft loved someone else, but that was all right, because she didn't deserve his love anyway. He was so much nobler than she could ever be, and she respected that. Besides, she wasn't used to this Milliard Peacecraft, the one who wore his hair short, who smiled and laughed and expressed his emotions as freely as the wind.
When she dreamed, she still dreamed of bright blue eyes and long golden hair and a proud young officer who had rendered her at a loss for words so long ago.
My name is Zechs Merquise…
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Love
By: Gerald Tarrant and Quicksilver
Speaks of Dorothy's first meeting with the young Zechs Merquis, and how things go wrong from the beginning. Young Dorothy and Zechs right out of the Academy.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama - Dorothy C., Zechs M. - Words: 2,425 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 1 - Published: 7/10/2001 - id: 349810
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Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten