The Queen of Daxam
Daxam's throne room was designed to overwhelm. A large structure in the center of the pyramid with beautiful stonework embellished in gold, decorated by shallow pools as well as armed guards. A multi-level staircase tapered to match the shape of the palace. Each step was lit by blue under light and there were guards on every level that lead to the throne. Three giant bronze statues of cloaked figures, ancient symbols engraved onto them, watched over two identical thrones. The most powerful presence in the room was Queen Rhea of Daxam, seated on the throne with her legs crossed and both her palms resting on the arms of her throne. She wore a black off-the-shoulder floor length gown with full sleeves and dramatically raised collar. The Queen was in armor, a protective black chest plate, as per Daxamite protocol for war. A black crown perfectly flattered her brunette curls. Her smoky black eyes were cold and intimidating. She was truly a symbol of power and authority.
King Lar Gand sat next to her in a Grey closed neck suit, slacks and black boots. He smiled when he made eye contact with Kara, surprising her with such an unexpected contradiction to her expectations. Rhea, on the other hand, silently studied her like a hawk and tilted her head as she established eye contact with Mon-el, silently questioning him.
Kara and Stefan closely followed Mon-el with the rest of the security detail not far behind. They respectfully bowed to the Queen and King. "Mother, Father, this is Diplomat Kara Zor-el of Krypton," Mon-el extended his arm to point to Kara, "and she is here on a peacekeeping mission on Krypton's behalf." He extended his arm to the circular table in the middle of the room, at the end of the throne's staircase, "shall we proceed with the peaceful negotiations Your Majesty?"
"So, who on Krypton wants you dead?" Rhea eyed Kara like prey and just when everyone in the room was gearing up for battle, her laugh echoed throughout the tense throne room. "Relax! It just seems like your General relied too much on the rumors of my cruelty," she playfully wiggled her eyebrows, "sending you here to fail. Expecting me to send your body back in pieces and using the death of a beautiful child such as yourself as the perfect excuse to wage war on Daxam." She muttered under her breath, "the predictability of Krypton's ludicrous tactics."
"Well that went far better than we expected from your mother." Stefan whispered to Mon-el, leaving Kara with the fear of what those expectations might have been.
Rhea whispered something into Lar's ear and stood up, "Let's eat! I'm sure your little friend here is famished." Gliding down the stairs with poise, Rhea's gown moved fluidly to match her steps. Lar followed, joining her at the table. Before Kara, Mon-el and Stefan could even sit; the servants began table service, moving efficiently in perfect sync. Rhea noticed the disgust in Kara's eyes when Rhea clapped to summon a servant, it seemed like Kara wasn't trained enough to hide her feelings about Daxam's culture as well as most Kryptonian diplomats. When a group of beautifully dressed musicians started playing their instruments in a corner, she noticed Kara almost roll her eyes. She still wasn't sure if sending a child barely out of the birthing matrix to represent Krypton was their way of mocking Daxam from a position of strength, or an act of desperation when Krypton was at its most vulnerable.
Several meal courses and awkward small talk topics later, Rhea broke the silence, her wine glass barely parting from her lips. "I heard you two had a long intimate chat, I hope you gathered some useful information about last night's events," she inquired of Mon-El.
"The attack was not directed at Daxam. An anti-alien terrorist group on Krypton targeted all the Emissaries currently residing on Krypton by attacking more than one site. The goal was to disrupt a new peace treaty Krypton planned to propose last night; their peacekeeping forces are working relentlessly to restore order all across the galaxy." He carefully measured his words as he spoke, ignoring the stink eye Stefan was giving him.
"The missiles were directed at Daxam as a precaution before reestablishing communication channels and I would like to apologize for the unwise move and the misunderstanding it caused, Your Majesty." Kara clarified, shifting eye contact from Rhea to Lar Gand.
Lar and Rhea whispered something to each other for a while before they looked at each other in agreement. "It's settled then! Convince your General to stand down and we'll do the same. Once the threat of war doesn't haunt our solar system, we can sit down like civilized people and talk about a Peace Treaty that would last," King Lar Gand declared. He and Rhea were sure that they could use Krypton's vulnerable condition and Kara's lack of experience to negotiate a better treaty than the last one.
Kara reluctantly decided to negotiate, trying to channel enough strength and authority to talk to Rhea as an equal. "As a token of good faith…the release of the Kryptonian Emissary, perhaps…would demonstrate to the Council how serious you are about peace."
"I thought the missiles were a precaution. Now that we have agreed to cease fire, why would Krypton need added motivation to cooperate?" Rhea asked in a calm yet terrifying tone.
"It's just that he was unfairly arrested without due process for not having information that even the Council didn't have last night. I have now provided that Information. It is cruel and immoral." Kara's respectful mask not perfectly hiding the touch of anger busting at the seams.
"Even as trained diplomats, high and mighty Kryptonians can't help but look down upon Daxam or weigh their self righteous demands against something concrete to offer." Rhea bitterly took a swig of her wine. "Tell me, Kryptonian, how moral is Fort Rozz, leaving prisoners in a suspended state for eternity with no plans of rehabilitation, or General Zod's notorious and genocidal war crimes throughout the galaxy, or your current General's interventionist and war mongering outlook towards conflicts on other planets that are none of Krypton's business?" Rhea had no intention of letting this child foster any illusions of having the upper hand in this situation or make demands unless she delivers on her empty promises.
Mon-el looked at Kara and silently pleaded with her to not take the bait for the argument. "I didn't mean to offend you. Please forgive me, Your Majesty." Kara clarified.
"Mother, now that we have all the information we wanted and our planets are working towards establishing peace, I would like to recommend a compromise. He could be accommodated in one of the highly guarded and secure suites in my wing until you choose to release him," Mon-el requested in a tone that was beginning to have a hypnotic and soothing effect on Kara.
Kara suddenly realized what he just said and almost instantly she turned to shoot him a look of accusation, obvious betrayal in her eyes. Just as she suspected, hers was a beautiful prison cell. So much for all that talk of her safety. Mon-el looked down and then at Stefan, who had nothing but a sarcastic half smile to offer in return.
"I can accept that offer, the prisoner will be transferred to the East Wing," Queen Rhea agreed, noticing the silent exchange between the three of them. She put down her wine glass and sat back in her chair. "Mon-el, a touch of pacifism is sometimes good in difficult political matters, which is why I could look past you going behind my back to allow safe passage to a Kryptonian pod. It was a huge risk; the pod could have contained a biological weapon, but you promised me a peaceful resolution and you delivered. I can even forgive the fact that you ordered my Commander to turn your wing into a maximum security prison, wasting Daxam's military resources on the safety of Kryptonians. What I can't allow is for you to go completely soft and give our enemies the impression that they can walk all over you. You will be King some day! Start acting like one."
Kara noticed Mon-el listening to his mother, perfectly concealing his frustration, but when he finally clenched his jaw and opened his mouth to speak, Stefan gently and stealthily squeezed his thigh under the table to offer support. Kara was new to this planet, but considering how close Stefan's hand was to Mon-el's crotch, it was the kind of intimacy that lovers exhibited on Krypton. Surprisingly in that instant, she felt something unexpected and very close to jealousy. Brushing it off, Kara recalled her anger at Mon-el for making her one of the two Kryptonian prisoners in the East Wing. Overcompensating for the jealousy she would rather forget, she focused harder on the anger.
The meeting was quickly dismissed and Kara was supposed to come back to the Queen with a cease fire. All that betrayal, the overcompensation for the jealousy and the repressed anger Queen Rhea stirred up in Kara's mind suddenly exploded outside the throne room and she confronted Mon-el. "I thought you were different and I believed that my suite wasn't just a fancy prison cell, simply because you assured me that it was for my own safety. I don't know what game you are playing here with all the information withholding and the conspiracy theories, but your offer for upgrading the Emissary's confinement to a suite was not very different from what your mother did." She instantly regretted it when she noticed how deeply he was hurt by her words.
Stefan stepped between them, shielding Mon-el as if he was in physical danger. "You are addressing the Crown Prince of Daxam. Absolutely never talk to him like that! You have no idea what a mammoth task it was to setup these peace talks and how much of your job he did in there, for you and Kryptonian Emissary," he enunciated the word Kryptonian with repulsion. "With his 'information withholding' and 'conspiracy theories'," he quoted her by drawing air quotes with his fingers, "and that offer was good negotiation. And absolutely never compare him to his mother!" He half turned, before looking back at her, "This is what politics and diplomacy looks like: gaining control over the narrative, choosing what battles to fight in the open and which ones to fight secretly and which compromises to make so that everyone walks away with a solution. Take note, kiddo!" Guards, escort Diplomat Zor-el to her quarters, for her own safety," Stefan said, stressing every single word of the last phrase. With a nod to the side, he gestured for Mon-el to depart with him and together they stormed dramatically away. Mon-el allowed himself one last glance at her over his shoulder as he left.
"Golly! I wonder what he would do to someone who physically threatened Mon-el," she thought out loud.
"No one outside the Royal family would even dare to imagine that but the last person who was plotting to end the Prince's life, the Commander delivered their head in a basket to the co-conspirators. Their heads were rolling on the floor soon enough," a guard chipped in.
