Kalique of House Abrasax surveyed her garden party, carefully, hands placed directly on her thighs, in faux submissive demeanor, as was expected of a Lady of her rank. She stood slightly above everyone by design, a combination of delicate, heels, and the placement of the things of interest. She was dressed in a long shimmering dress, blue, a color she found herself favoring in this particular event. Three of four she had worn had been this specific shade of blue. Especially because it offsets the newly planted red roses of her Alcazar and her eyes perfectly. She felt a general delight, if a little bit bored of the tedium this event. The Season of the Century was in full swing and as the Secondary of her House, it was her duty to host such events. It was a platform to campaign for the prospects of their House, keep an eye on the laws of Orous, and to make sure her brothers had not performed a faux-pas at the events they were responsible for... In company or with evidence from any injured party. Both her brothers were smarter than that, of course, but in his youth, Titus could be reckless. Balem, of course, had been in a well-deserved melancholy. It fell to Kalique to be without flaw.
It fell to Kalique to be the sociable one.
She was very equipped for the task of course. She, unlike Titus, was not self-serving. She was satisfied with her Holdings and the wealth allotted to her. She, unlike Balem, was not awkward or single-minded when it came to speaking to their fellow Entitled. She was charming, as none of her brothers were.
As you, Mother, had been. You had been the best part of all of us. Selfish enough for ambition, shrewd enough for business, and liked enough to get away with it.
She looked at the faces of her fellow Entitleds to understand her place, which, of course, was high even among them. The graceful Lady of House Abrasax, she knew, was what she had been given at birth. She had not earned the title Lady. But she knew she had affirmed her right to it... And she hoped, like in her Mother, to earn the larger title of Queen. One day, I will be such a thing. I will reach that which even Balem could not achieve, equality to you, Mother.
Kalique of House Abrasax found pleasure in the rapacious expressions of the other Entitleds present, as it was a step in the right course of her ambitions. It was right, of course, for them to ooh and awe at the perfection of her Cerise's abundance, in its first debut since she had sealed off the planet from visitors. It was a joint effort, she knew. It was, after all, a gift from her Mother, when she turned her first thousandth year. Now nearing her fourteenth-thousandth year, Kalique's Cerisei had been curated to perfection by her hand.
At first, it had been a rebellion against her mother's vision of beauty.
She had slashed the soil of Cerisei to nothing and built and built it to her own vision.
But then, in grief, her alcazar had been redone. Not completely- Kalique had allowed herself some vanity. But it had been beautified, modified slightly to mimic the earlier state that her Mother had given to her. The only other addition she had given to Cerisei in two-hundred years had been the temple to her mother, and the statues of her that lined the entryway and some parts of the gardens. Her home was resplendent, the crown jewel amongst her modest holdings, and she delighted in the way some of the party-goers were evidently planning on copying some of the finer attributes. Messages were being sent to their splices, those who could afford them at least, and she was pleased when a particular rival of the House Abrasax made a quick motion for their splice to try and have her roses copied.
The fool would never be able to mimic the genetic sequence, not with their out-moded technology- and she would be very pleased indeed when she would arrive at their own garden party. She would see the poor copy for herself then, as roses had been chosen as the flower of Season. It was a pity the Season would take time to reach the event, she thought with slight humor. She could hardly wait. Malidictes came to her, and she gave the sweet thing a slight nod, giving him permission for him to approach.
Whispering in her ear, the owl-splice said calmly, "There is trouble in your brother's holdings."
Kalique kept her placid expression, even as she made a motion for her entourage to keep walking. She carefully made her way through the party-goers. She made tedious small-talk. She gave placid smiles to the more important of her guests. Malidictes kept pace, slightly behind her, whilst her attendants did what was proper- started to fan out in a carefully calculated display, giving her room to speak privately to her splice.
"Is it true trouble?" she muttered, carefully, delicately touching one of her prized roses. It had been difficult, to breed this shade of red. Especially with the precise amount of petal count, but she had been able to when she had reviewed her mother's older botany sheevework to find the correct method.
Malidictes gave a quick shake of his head. With deft, practiced fingertips, Kalique removed one of the fullest roses.
"No, My Lady, just a minor malfunction of one of his harvesting planets," He told her, readily accepting the flower.
She kept moving, selecting choice blooms amongst her garden. Not a single brown petal, nor crumpled bloom existed on all of the planet. She had made sure of it when she had prepared her Alcazar for the event. Perhaps I will make myself a gown for the last phase of the event... Yes. A quick Renge-X bath, to remove the wrinkles, and a scandalously glorious gown of my roses to see them all off. Or perhaps I will keep the age- it makes them all so uncomfortable.
"How sloppy of him," she giggled, amused, but also curious. It was uncharacteristic of her brother to allow even a minor mistake.
"It was from your Mother's old holdings."
Kalique paused, hand gripping tightly on the thorns of one of her roses. She could barely feel the prick against the tender skin of her palm or the droplet of blood that made its way across her skin. She resisted the urge to turn, quickly, or make a single sound of distress. The only thing that indicated the mention of her Mother's holdings in any sort of disarray was how her fingertips flexed around the rose. I have too heavy ornaments in my hair to whip around dramatically, she told herself, with sternness.
"Oh?"
"A planet called Earth in the same system as his Refinery. It's curious, from my gentle probing, he has left it in a state of disrepair."
Very unlike Balem. And to do Mother such a disservice… There is something there. And that name- Earth. It touches on the familiar. I know it from somewhere. Yes. It was in the same system as the Refinery... It must be very profitable if it's in the same system. It is very unlike Balem to waste any profit.
Kalique gave a hum.
"Enquire discreetly after the holding, as much as information as possible."
"Of course, My Lady."
Kalique offered her injured hand and accepted the cloth her splice granted her to suppress the bleeding. She gave him a soft, swift smile. She then shifted her face into a placid, smooth expression. Then she returned to her beautiful party.
A lady's work was never done.