Cubbie and Chris: Not a problem. Thank you for braving my 'grim-dark' world. You might also want to check out chapter 6 (on the drop down menu) part 1. In spite of this being a war story, Keith and Allura's love for each other is actually a central theme. It's the constant bright spot that chases the dark away; Eleanor Roosevelt's 'single candle,' if you will.
Petronille: I was hoping to show Allura is no longer an insecure girl trying to prove herself. That her years defending her own planet and also learning statesmanship at Coran's knee have molded her into a woman capable of governing her Kingdom. And yeah, Coran still needs to see that. Never fear, he will. And I can't tell you happy I am that what I was doing with the use of enthusiastic consent came through. I feel that Keith is the kind of man who would be extra careful with Allura because of her past trauma. And that he would put her first- ahead of all his own needs- in all things. Loved your last two chapters of House of Cards, btw. Political intrigue at its best!
Wade Wells: LOL! I don't blame you for heading straight for the fluff! Thank you for your kind words! I have to admit I did hesitate about the severity of Taron's injuries…but my muse wouldn't relent. War is hell. Do look for more of him, he quickly became one of my favorite OC's. And I totally agree on making sure that science and technology reflect the future setting of the Voltron universe. Medical science can perform what looks to be miracles now, and prototypes of some of the stuff the bio-tech reps have shown me is just amazing. It's a real challenge to come up with technology that is futuristic, based on actual research, but not completely outlandish.
Windup: LOL no! Not weird at all! I myself find what goes on behind the closed doors of political offices just as sexy as the bedroom!
Feli3: Glad you're enjoying it! Feel free to offer any comments or critiques!
Bknbu: LOL sorry…need to put a NSFW at the start of 'those' chapters. But I'm glad you enjoyed it and didn't end up in HR. I think it's beyond time for "Princess" Allura to step up her game and assume her rightful place as…oops, don't want to get too far ahead of myself. And the Fifth Kingdom entering into the mix with their own blood debt to pay? What could possibly go wrong?
KathDMD: LOL! Hey, I do what I can…And you're very welcome! Hard working woman like you deserves a great weekend! And a dirty mind is a terrible thing to keep to ones self. There's a lot more 'citrus' ahead…but only because it's important to the plot. No, really, it is! ;) And I'm experimenting with a new drink recipe. And by experimenting I mean drinking as I write this. As follows: Red Diamond Brand Sweet Tea in a rocks glass over ice, 1.5 oz Tito's vodka, fresh mint. Need to think of something to call it…besides delicious
Ebon Drake: Thank you for your review and your suburb copy editing skills! I'm glad you're enjoying my interpretation of the characters, especially Allura. She can be surprisingly hard to write. Particularly when one is trying to write her as a more 'modern' proactive heroine without losing the vulnerability that is so fundamental to her character. And I'm glad you liked the "smutty-smut" And thanks again for the kind words and your confidence in my ability to write this story.
A/N: A few words on characterization and continuity. Romelle's physical description is based on her brief appearance in the Devil Due Comic series where she is drawn with red hair and green eyes. I found this depiction of her more believable and consistent with the coloring of the rest of her family (both Avok and Bandor are redheaded) than the blonde haired "Allura Twin" version in GoLion and Lion Voltron.
As for continuity, this story is told through the eyes of multiple characters, and so does not follow a strictly linear sequence of events. There will be many places where the storyline overlaps or even doubles back on itself as different characters add their voice to the tale, filling the gaps of information left by others. It is certainly a more difficult and less traveled route, but one I feel will make all the difference in the end. (Yes, I just ripped off Robert Frost, but really, who hasn't?)
Also, for those of you who have asked me about providing more back story for some of my OC's such as Martinez, Naro Yoi and Lt. Amanda Lorn, be patient, I'll get there. But if you need to know right now, Yoi's and Lorn's can be found in much greater detail in my story 'Rites of Passage' which serves as a sort of prequel for this story. Martinez's 'big reveal' is coming up very soon.
Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron/Go Lion or any of their characters. They are the property of WEP and Devil's Due Comic and Toei Animation. All other characters are mine. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and I am not monetarily compensated in any way.
Razor's Edge
Chapter 10
1
With a stealth learned in the caverns of the Pit of Skulls Romelle crouched in the secret passage and peered through a deliberate thin spot in the veneer of the paneling in Bandor's office and listened to her brother's not so secret conference with Coran, Keith and Allura, her nails digging half-moons in to her palms from the effort it took to keep silent. Sven had told her about it, and why Bandor had chosen to exclude her. He kept nothing from her.
He knew she still held secrets from those dark days before they met. He never pried or insisted she share them with him. He understood and respected her need to keep some parts of her past her own. Perhaps he knew that some secrets are best kept in the shadows; that some won't die in redemption's light, but would instead coil around each of them in a stranglehold; pulling them apart forever. She felt a deep stab of guilt at the knowledge. Sven could be blunt to the point of brutality, but he would never hurt her with a lie. Just as she could never destroy him with the truth.
They are waiting! Waiting too long! She thought and experienced a lurching in her gut; a sensation similar to the rapid descent in an elevator or the sudden thrust of rockets breaching gravity. It was a feeling she had learned to trust long ago; a warning. She understood the need for more troops, but if they gave Lotor the time to regroup and re-arm there would be no way they could defeat him! They might even lose Tabor's help. Tabor…Tabor, the weakest and most undependable spoke in the wheel. Already once a traitor… Her throat constricted as she sensed the window closing on her family's only opportunity for revenge and swallowed a hard, bitter lump in her throat. We all have one fleeting chance to keep our sovereignty and if we don't take it Lotor will settle his business with the Fifth and come back even stronger than before.
She heard the conversation suddenly end and she bit her lip, the sinking feeling in her stomach twisted into a knot. Damn it! If any bit of this conversation gets back to Lotor, it's all over now.
"Well, Your Majesty, should we get the bomb shelters ready?" She heard Sven ask Bandor with his typical gallows humor.
"Hmpft!" Bandor snorted in reply, "Maybe, just to be on the safe side. Check with security, find out what that was. If it was on our side or theirs." She heard the dismissal in Bandor's voice.
"Yes, Your Majesty." Sven replied. She didn't wait to see him leave. She crept back quietly along the narrow passage; ducked to avoid a low beam and made her way carefully back to the main corridor which led back to her apartments. The family wing of the castle was riddled with servant's entrances, secret passages, hidden doors and spy holes. This one in particular had been installed by her grandfather so his mistress could visit him discreetly. Surely Bandor knew of it; she had on occasion seen other footprints in the dust leading both in and out of it. She mused for a moment on which of the ladies remaining at Pollux's court might be her brother's paramour; then dismissed the thought with a frown. It only reminded her how crestfallen they had become. A secondary power compared to Altea.
The panel slipped noiselessly into a pocket door concealed behind an ornamental screen and she stepped into the empty hallway, closed it and walked purposefully towards her rooms.
What if this conference between Altea and Pollux was intercepted by Korrinoth and it is being decoded right now? What then? She wondered pacing the expanse of her sitting room. She walked over to the buffet and poured herself three fingers of aged bourbon neat into a cut crystal glass. She took a deep swallow savoring the bitter finish. She found sweet beverages like wine and saya cloying now, and somewhat dishonest in their purpose. She didn't drink alcohol because she liked the taste. No one did.
Glass in hand she sat down on the edge of the sofa and leaned back against the cushions. Surely, it would go badly for Tabor. He would be tortured, certainly giving up that he had been meeting me directly and then Lotor would come with his armies and decimate my world and finish killing everyone I love. Will Voltron come to our aid and leave Altea undefended with Lotor's war-machine running at full power? Or will we be another Balto, with our treaties abandoned in the face of mutually assured destruction? It all depends on Lotor, what he knows and what he now plans.
In her heart she knew what he planned. They all did. He was going to come for Allura; that's what all this was about. His obsession with her was no secret. Three armies were gathering to defend her honor. Romelle grit her teeth as she felt resentment overwhelm her. Nobody defended me, no one came. I had to find my own way to survive. She thought angrily then quickly corrected herself. No, that's not true. Sven did. He saved me and protected me. I would have died without him. And I never would have gotten a chance to take my revenge against that bastard! She squeezed her eyes shut. Lotor…somehow it always comes back to him. I wish I'd never seen him! Or been so foolish to believe his lies. None of this would have happened if it wasn't for that…
In hindsight her family's fall from grace was painfully obvious. One could recall the events and see it unfold step by step. Her father and brother had been so blinded by their own ambitions and arrogance they didn't think question why such a powerful King like Zarkon would need their help for anything. They never considered why Zarkon would arrange a match between his son and a human girl for a mere alliance. An alliance he knew could have gotten easily without it.
If her father had bothered to think of anything other than his own ambition he never would have packed her off to Korrinoth and let Avok parade her in front of Lotor like a mare up for auction. She and her dignity would have stayed on Pollux and if Lotor wanted to meet her he would have had to come there. As he would have asked to, had Zarkon's offer even been even remotely serious. She knew now that was how the Drule did things. They were protective of their daughters, keeping a close watch on them. Not because they feared their wayward nature would get them into trouble, but rather because they valued them so highly. Bride stealing had been a common practice in their recent past, and a family that could not or did not protect its women was not highly regarded. And as a consequence neither were easily gotten women.
Romelle herself had known no better; her own conceit had been her downfall as well. All she had seen was the wealth, power and decadence of the Ninth Kingdom. Aside from what hairstyles and clothing were fashionable, she didn't bother to learn anything about the Drule or Korronite culture. She was so certain that the adoration she received on Pollux would be mimicked on Korrinoth. And sure that Lotor would be as entranced by her beauty as everyone else was. What a fool she had been!
But her ignorance was not entirely her fault. She had never had to think about what troubles lay ahead, or what would she do with her life. It had all been arranged for her. Any difficulties were settled by others, most without her knowing they had even occurred. Usually her most pressing concern had been to decide what to wear to what event. Even on Korrinoth, everything had seemed to fall into place. At first anyway. She realized now that was a charade. Had she taken a moment and thought, just thought about something more important than what jewels matched which dress better, then she would have seen it. In fact she had seen it; she just hadn't known what she was looking at.
Lotor hadn't wanted her. Not as his wife, anyway. He wanted Allura and it had been only her resemblance to the Altean princess that had captured his interest, however fleeting. And Zarkon had much bigger plans for his only son than the simpering human princess of an emerging Kingdom. In retrospect, that much was as plain as the points of their ears. She had arrived on Korrinoth seeing nothing but the fabulous wealth and power that she would have access to as queen. She had been bewitched by it all, certain that the magnificence of the Ninth Kingdom had been what she spurned all the others for. Finally, she was getting what she deserved.
Avok had come to Korrinoth first. It was from him she learned of the court, the hedonism and the dresses the women wore that revealed as much as they concealed. He spoke in hushed tones of the pleasure slaves, Ai'loethi, they were called. More than simple prostitutes or dancing girls they were more like the geisha of Terra, he had said. She had no idea what a geisha was, but the word sounded scandalous. The whole thing had seemed like some decadent scene out of a holo-film or a very naughty fairy tail. She had grown up believing in fairy tails.
And then there had been Lotor. She had wanted him before she even met him because he came with all of Korrinoth. Idiot that she had been, she had known nothing of the Sinclines or their bloody claim to the throne.
She rubbed her forehead with one hand, as if she could wipe the memories out of her mind. She had had years to recount every misstep of every member of her family including herself. She had come to the conclusion that what had happened was inevitable. But how it happened? No, there was much that she at least could have done differently.
Lotor had not been on Korrinoth when she was presented at court. He had been on Diqan, the moon base orbiting Korrinoth, overseeing the construction of a new fleet of super dreadnaughts. It was a slight that should have been their first clue that something was amiss. However, Avok and her father had accepted Zarkon's dismissive explanation, and she had remained on Korrinoth to await Lotor's return…at his leisure.
The first time she had ever spoken to Lotor directly was several weeks later at the arena. He had just been defeated by Avok. She remembered her brother offering to help him up but Lotor had waved his hand aside and flipped nimbly to his feet. His next actions took the entire crowd by surprise and herself most of all. He had taken a knee before her box and said "I have lost the heart to fight because the lovely Romelle has stolen it! Will you please give it back?" She replied "Never!" The crowd roared its approval. She felt like she was floating on a cloud! What a silly fool she had been! She had really believed he meant the words, that he was truly beguiled by her! No, no…in reality it hadn't been that way at all, quite the opposite in fact. He had seduced her completely, right then and there, in front of everyone, with a few pretty words.
She had mistakenly believed that he would be just like all her other suitors. So sure of his affection, so wanting to believe it was all coming true, she hadn't thought to question it. But, she wasn't totally to blame. None of them had. Securing her betrothal to obtain Zarkon's aid in defeating Altea, their common enemy, had been central to the ambitions of her father and brother. They should have been more skeptical, in spite of Zarkon's promises. After all, Zarkon had sworn a blood oath to his own king, Vosta, but it hadn't stopped him from taking the crown right off of Vosta's severed head. But Avok and Cova in their own arrogance and lust for power had been just as beguiled as she was.
Once her father had returned to Pollux, Avok turned a blind eye to her comings and goings and allowed her far too much time alone with Lotor. "Lotor is not like other noblemen. He is Dai'ahksu. With him the throne of Korrinoth is just the beginning of our family's fortunes. Keep him amused and happy, sister, and he will lay the Denubian in our laps." He advised, assuming she understood what Dai'ahksu meant. She didn't. Not really. How could she know all the subtleties and implied meanings of such a word? There was no exact translation for it in the common tongue. Dai'ahksu. She had assumed the term meant some kind of military leader or conqueror. And she was partially correct. But it meant so much more. Lord of War was what she had been told when she remembered to ask one of her Korronite servants. But really -more specifically- Lord by War. What a difference a simple preposition makes! Lotor had earned the title during his service in the Supremacy. He had conquered worlds on his own and held the incomes from them. He had shown uncommon bravery and ingenuity in battle and overcome insurmountable odds. He did not have to kneel before the throne of any king aside from the one his father occupied, but that was only because Zarkon was his father and Dai'ahksu as well. Less than a thousand in all ten Kingdoms had held the envied rank, a social status that could not be inherited, but only earned through bloody conquest and valor. But no one had explained that to her. Warlord, she had thought. Some sort of general or commander. But not the lofty rank of someone who had earned the right to establish by force their own recognized Kingdom in the Supremacy. How foolish she had been to think that she was regarded as Lotor's equal.
Avok also must have known that hers and Lotor's relationship had gone too far too fast. There was no way he could not have; only that he had been too concerned with his own aspirations to care. Her ladies in waiting, two cousins from Pollux-the painfully shy, freckled, auburn haired Marian and plain, fat Louise, were too intimidated of her and the Korronite court to advise or admonish.
But it wasn't Avok's fault. Or her hapless cousins, may God rest all their souls. It was hers. In this, she had known better. She had been raised to guard her virginity as if her life and planet depended on it. She was a princess, and not like other women to be had by common men and live common lives. No, she was a Royal Highness! And someday to be a Royal Majesty! She could not give herself away for something as banal as love. No, she was not allowed to give herself away at all. Royal duty decreed that she obtain a legal contract and a public ceremony in order to do that. But her duty hadn't stopped her from falling in love on Pollux; nor did it stop her from falling for Lotor's insidious charm on Korrinoth. Yet it had been that same duty which had led her to falter as she did. Was it ironic? Perhaps…
Unable to stop herself she continued to tally her mistakes. Not the little embarrassing ones that had made her toss and turn, unable to sleep during her 'courtship' on Korrinoth. No, the big ones, the ones that signaled the danger she ignored. But even those had their silver linings, for it was then that she had experienced for the first time the same uneasy churning in her gut that she had right now. She knew to recognize it as a warning. That something was terribly wrong and she needed to be still look and listen for the answer because she already had all the clues. She just needed to know how they fit together, just like the first time she felt it, years ago, in Lotor's harem…
Lotor had made plans to see her when he returned from some military business with her brother. She had been waiting anxiously all day, spending the afternoon trying on clothes and putting together accessories. She had wanted to look radiant for him. And then he had sent her a message, he would be late returning. But he hadn't specified a time, so she ended up dining with her brother, Bandor. Then, during dinner, his valet sent another message saying he wouldn't be coming. No apology. No explanation. Simply stating that: 'His Imperial Highness will not be returning to Castle Galra this evening.' As if she should have been grateful for that tiny bit of courtesy!
"How rude! First, Lotor says he has been delayed and now says he isn't coming to see me!" She exclaimed to Bandor. Her brother, in his naiveté, blurted out the uncomfortable truth. Avok and Lotor had returned late in the morning and had spent the afternoon gambling at the arena and now they were dining at his private residence.
She had been enraged! How dare he?! How dare he lie to her?! She stormed out on Bandor, ignoring his protests and leaving him to finish his dessert alone. She called for her maids to prepare the gown she had selected for this evening and to style her hair. She had to look fabulous. She was going to Lotor's dinner party, invitation or not!
She arrived at the residence without incident and greeted with all appropriate deference by Lotor's personal valet. He escorted her past the oddly empty dining room and back into the more intimate living area of the large home. She had never been to this part of his house. He heart began to hammer in her chest and her stomach tightened, and she felt as if she were falling. She got the urge, just for a moment to turn around and leave. But she ignored it, telling herself that she had every right to be here.
They arrived at a pair of double doors made of onat wood, sanded smooth, stained a dark brown and heavily varnished. The valet seemed to sense her disquiet because he hesitated and regarded her for a moment. She nearly changed her mind, but then she heard the sound of laughter from within. She gestured with her head at the door, noticing as she did so, the tiny bones and feathers of a small, hapless bird that had been absorbed by the tree to become part of it structure. Its empty eye sockets seemed to plead to her a warning. Her stomach coiled another knot, but she ignored it. She squared her shoulders and prepared to make her grand entrance.
The valet pushed the doors open and bowed as she walked past him into the gorgeously appointed room. For a moment she felt triumphant! She noted it was a small and intimate party, as she saw only a half a dozen guests sitting on a large circular couch in front of a fire pit. She couldn't discern who they were because only the tops of their heads were visible. But she could spot her betrothed immediately by the bright white of his hair, Avok's auburn curls were to his left and at least three other Drule and humans were present.
No one had noticed her yet, and she approached the group wordlessly. Several servants stood around with decanters of saya and trays of sliced fruit and raw meat were placed on the lip of the pit. She smelled sweet spices and meat cooking and noticed a large pink block of salt sitting on a grate in the fire glowing with several thin slices of Terran horse meat sizzling on it. As she got closer she noticed that one of the Drule was one of Lotor's generals, Cossak, and seated next to him was a Drule female she had believed was his wife. She knew now it was his favored concubine. Her brother had a dark haired beauty of a Drule curled halfway in his lap. But it was when she saw Lotor that her heart dropped to her feet. She knew, right then, she had made a serious error.
Had she not imposed herself on this night, she was sure the events that followed never would have happened.
She barely looked at Lotor; her eyes flitted over him and fixed on the woman the woman beside him, sitting within the circle of his arm. She smiled and parted her lips revealing perfect white teeth as he placed a morsel of food in her mouth. She was human and breathtakingly beautiful. And worse -much worse! She favored Allura; with golden blonde hair and wide set crystal blue eyes. Except that was where the resemblance ended; this woman was not the 'little bumpkin' her cousin was. She was elegantly dressed in a bare shouldered turquoise blue silk dress and wearing a jeweled choker necklace and earring set that shimmered with blue diamonds the size of bird's eggs surrounded by bezel set mosinite and dripping with teardrop pearls the size of her thumbnail. They made the finest jewels in Romelle's collection seem like dime store baubles.
Never in Romelle's life had she ever not been the prettiest woman in the room, or at least convinced that she was. It was a devastating jolt to her ego. Who was this woman who sat so familiarly with her betrothed? Who was she that he would break his word to Romelle to be with her instead?
Avok had been the first to see her standing there.
"Romelle!" He exclaimed, and then every head snapped in her direction.
"Romelle! What an unexpected pleasure! How...nice of you to join us." Lotor said smoothly as Avok and Cossak stood to acknowledge her presence. The three women, however, sunk into the prostrations of slaves. Romelle couldn't help but notice the lithe figure of the blonde and the way the high slits of her gown revealed her long and shapely legs. She moves like a piece of silk, she thought as the statuesque woman gracefully lowered herself and touched her forehead to ground. She felt dowdy and clumsy by comparison.
But, as she looked at the women, now obviously slaves, and then around at the room's opulent, yet casually masculine décor; she suddenly realized where she was and her cheeks grew hot. She had barged into Lotor's harem.
She still hadn't known much about the Drule, but even then she knew that this was a place where, according to their culture, she should not be unless invited. By her husband. It had been as rude as if Lotor had barged into her shower, while she was using it. She could feel the heat radiate off her face.
Avok had been first to move. He had come up to her smiling but she saw it didn't reach his eyes. He took her arm and under his breath, he whispered "What are you doing here?!"
Seeing his anger, she knew she had made a terrible mistake, embarrassing all of them. "Bandor told me you were here." It hadn't been a lie, but she could not admit the truth. Not to him not to anyone, that she had come chasing a man who didn't want to see her!
"Damn it! I'm going to kill him." He said through clenched teeth, still maintaining his false smile as he escorted her to the couch; she noticed that the women were no longer present.
Lotor finally stood and took her hand. She sat down beside him.
"Did you not get my message?"He asked. She saw the tension in his jaw.
"What message?" She said and turned her gaze to the fire-pit so he couldn't see the lie in her eyes.
A servant offered her a glass on a tray and she took it and drank deeply. She was learning to enjoy alcohol and its effects. She turned back to Lotor and noticed he was smiling again.
"This is good." She said, "Different." She took another sip.
"I'm glad you like it. Drink up. You're just in time. I was about to have Lolita sing for us." He lightly touched his glass to hers, and exchanged a glance with Cossak. She thought she detected a hint of amusement in it and wondered if perhaps things weren't as bad as she feared.
Oh, how wrong she had been.
When the singer had arrived Romelle's heart sank. The singer, Lolita, and the beautiful blonde slave were one and the same. To make matters worse she had accompanied herself by playing the complicated seventeen stringed, lute-like vasst. If she had been unprepared for seeing the beauty of the women Lotor was accustomed to, she certainly had not expected them to have been talented as well. The woman sang like bird! Pitch perfect and hauntingly beautiful melodies, hitting soprano notes so high and clear Romelle had thought the glass in her hand would shatter. Oh, she had learned many things that night, including what Ai'loethi meant.
Avok had escorted her home immediately after the performance. It had been a quiet ride across the channel. "You'd better fix this," was all her older brother had said and pointedly ignored her attempts at conversation. She had gazed out the window into the dead black night and blinked back tears, certain that Lotor was in the arms of the singer. Jealousy had overwhelmed her. Never once, in all her life, had she ever had reason to doubt herself, but now she did. She measured herself against both the singer, Lolita, and her cousin Allura and found herself lacking. In all areas but one. She was royalty, a princess who came with a powerful alliance. Lolita -beautiful and talented to be sure- was nothing but chattel and Allura had nothing but a title. She made a vow then, that she would replace them both. Lotor may have had many women, but he had never, ever had a woman of such high birth as herself. She was worth ten of both of them, she decided.
It was the beginning of the end. Her decision to compete with Lotor's whore and his idealized fantasy of Allura had been sheer stupidity. After the harem incident, Lotor had been cool and standoffish for several weeks. The flowers he had delivered daily to her rooms had ceased. She had agonized and berated herself for her foolishness that night, going over each thing she should have done differently until she had thought she would lose her mind. Until finally, one afternoon she received a message from him. It merely stated that he would like to speak to her after dinner in the water gardens. She had almost burst into tears, certain that he was breaking the engagement.
She had agonized what she should wear for hours, vacillating between modest and revealing, dark or light, simple or ornate. Finally -her ladies being no help what-so-ever- she asked her Korronite maid what she would wear if the Prince Imperial wanted to meet her in the water gardens at night. The servant paused for a moment then said, "Nothing. Nothing at all." Romelle gasped at the girl's audacity, but the scandalous suggestion made up her mind. She pawed through her dresses and finally pulled out a sky blue gown with a ruffled neckline. She turned it about and then ordered the maid to call for a seamstress. "I need this dress altered immediately."
She changed after dinner and shy Marion tried to talk her out of wearing the altered dress, but she would hear none of it. Now one shouldered, the frilly ruffle had been removed and replaced by grass green and violet beading with gold embroidery along the bodice that outlined the curve of her breasts. The voluminous skirt had been tailored so that the pale blue silk clung to her willowy curves as she moved. It was the height of Korronite fashion. She chose her mother's diamond and tsavorite earrings and a green samite shawl that matched the emerald of her diadem and her eyes. Avok had said she had to 'fix this.' And that was exactly what she planned to do.
Her heart had been pounding as she strolled down the mosaic path which wound through hedge rows agleam with bioluminescent flora, illuminated fountains which fed landscaped streams and waterfalls. She found him waiting where he said he'd be, at the shrine of Li'Noth by a large yera tree, the glowing petals of its tiny flowers created curtains of light on its long drooping branches. His back was to her and she paused, nearly not recognizing him out of his formal court attire. He was wearing a dark blue sleeveless tunic embroidered in silver and in trimmed in the blood red of House Sincline. His long hair white hair was loose in the breeze and a gold and ruby medallion belt was slung low on his narrow hips and she was struck dumb for a moment by his broad shouldered silhouette. She was afraid to move; unsure of what the next moments would bring when suddenly he turned and she gasped in surprise. She quickly looked down, unable to meet his yellow eyes.
"My Lord—I- it's-"She began haltingly but he quickly closed the distance between them. He grabbed her by her bare arms pulled her close and kissed her! Hard and passionately! She had been so stunned she didn't know what to do! She pushed at his chest and after a moment he released her.
"Forgive me. I am a beast." He said. "But I have missed you, Romelle."
She should have slapped him, like Allura had done so many times before. She should have run away or cursed at him. Or cried. She should have done anything except what she did next.
"There's nothing to forgive. If anyone has behaved badly it's me." She apologized. "I should have never—" She continued but he shushed her with a finger to her lips.
"My lovely Romelle, I should have invited you. You are always welcome to join me in my ai'doann," he said and smiled. She could still remember how white his pointed teeth gleamed in the eerie, ethereal light.
He pulled her under the branches and kissed her again and this time she let him. His hands had roamed her silken curves and she made no effort to stop him. Fix this, Avok had said. Had warned. Had commanded. And that's what she was trying to do, and God help her she liked doing it. She didn't put a stop to Lotor's seduction until he had tried to lay her down in the grass right there under the tree. At least she had had some sense left that night.
He had broke off from her abruptly then; so quickly she was forced to grab one of the branches in order not fall backward. He turned and left without a word and her heart sank once more. If she could have found her voice she was sure she would have called out to him. Thank God for small favors! She made her way back to her rooms slowly; her hands shaking and desperately trying not to weep. She wasn't sure exactly what had caused him to leave as he did and what it could possibly mean for their future…for her future. Romelle knew that he had most likely gone to his harem to do with that Lolita-thing what she had denied him. The very idea of it left her tortured with self doubt and jealousy. She berated herself for her prudishness which sent him into the arms of other women. Fix this…Keep him amused…her brother's words echoed in her mind later as she tossed and turned in her bed. How was she supposed to do these things when her betrothed was surrounded by other women? Each one as beautiful as she and none with any chastity to speak of?
The morning, however, had brought her a most lovely surprise. A large arraignment of fragrant flowers and a blood red lacquered gift box with the Sincline coat of arms carved and embossed in gold and black. She gasped and nearly dropped it when she opened the lid. Inside was a stunning jeweled triple strand choker necklace of ascher cut emeralds and diamonds set in bright yellow gold. Large baroque pearls dangled off the flower shaped spacer links of each setting. Marian and Louise had gaped at it with her, their eyes the size saucers. Inside there had been a handwritten note on velum, "So that all may know my esteem of you," it read and was signed with only his surname 'Sincline.'
Even her maid had been surprised. "Is this from His Majesty or His Imperial Highness?" she had asked when Romelle had asked her to fasten the necklace around her throat. The question had seemed unusual to Romelle, but in her excitement she didn't think to ask why the girl thought Zarkon would send her such a gift. "His Imperial Highness." She had answered smiling and preening in the mirror admiring the way the green stones brought out her eyes and contrasted with her flaming hair.
Romelle had barely noticed the servant's smile or the sly look in her eye. No, it would be a while before Romelle learned that according to Drule culture a suitor gifts his intended a bracelet to signify an impending betrothal. She learned too late -much too late- that only concubines wear such close fitting collars. Lotor's 'gift' had been only the first of the many humiliations he had planned for her and her family.
With a final tilt to the glass Romelle drained it and pushed herself to an upright position. Her hand fluttered to her throat and toyed with the large oval pendant there. Bezel set with round diamonds and laser cut in gold over lapis lazuli were two dolphins leaping a cresting wave; the Polluxian coat of arms. It was the last of her mother's jewels, the rest had been stolen or sold to fund her escape from Korrinoth and later her insurgency. Mother, I miss you so much…Father, you tried so hard. You did the best you knew…I will make this right for us, I promise! She gripped the pendant tighter. Whatever it takes; whatever I have to do... I will make him pay.
Glossary:
Ai'loethi: (noun) Lit. Trans. The Pleasing Ones. The formal name for a pleasure servant. Unlike simple prostitutes ai'loethi are selected for their uncommon beauty and educated and trained in the arts of music, dance, conversation and sexual pleasure. They are extraordinarily expensive to buy and maintain and often stay with one master for life.
ai'doann: (noun) in Drule the private space of a residence reserved for the males of upper class households so they may relax the more formal manners kept in mixed company. It is considered an act of disrespect for anyone to enter uninvited, but it's especially rude and invasive for a female to enter without being expressly invited and escorted.
Dai' Ahkhsu: (noun) literal translation: Noble war person. Its meaning is similar to 'War master' or 'Warlord' in Terran, but it is an elite ruling class among the Drule. It is most notable because it is the only social class that a person can not be born into.
Li' Noth: God of war and conquest.
Onat: (noun) a type of carnivorous tree native to Tyrus. Its branches grow with natural hollows which encourage birds, insects and small animals to crawl in and use then as nests. The trees then secrete a sap which paralyzes the prey and begins to digest it in two phases. The soft tissue of the animal are absorbed quickly leaving the bones to become part of the tree as it grows around them, continuing to slowly leech the nutrients and minerals out of them. The wood is prized for woodworking especially those pieces with entire skeletons clearly identifiable.