Chapter Sixteen: Beyond the Fantasy
Kallen was clad in a red, strapless dress that showed off the tops of her ample breasts, a look she wasn't sure of. Her hair had been let down again, and she looked at herself in the mirror as Villetta adjusted her straps. Stepping back, the silver-haired woman smiled. As she did, she shifted, so he dressed flowed around her, showing a split thigh.
Kallen realized she hadn't looked at her own eyes and hair like this in a long time. It was the same quiet, ill girl before. Only now was there a kind of reality to the person that hadn't been there before. She was not ill but reserved.
Kallen Stadtfeld had come a long way. And she could see a lot less of Kallen Kozuki in the mirror now, in this changing room.
"Alright, there you go," said Villetta. "You look beautiful."
"So I see," said Kallen reluctantly. "I'm not sure any kind of dress fits me." She had her phone in her pocket, and a gun was hidden in her dress. Hiding it with Villetta, there had been difficult.
"Well, maybe you need to fit into it," said Villetta. "Come on; we've got to socialize."
They hurried through the clean halls, and Kallen ran into Mother and Father as she ought to call them. She halted as they stared at her in surprise. "Mother, Father?"
"Oh, Kallen, I wasn't aware you were here," said Ms. Stadtfeld, voice surprised.
"Yes, we had expected to miss you," said Mr. Stadfteld.
They were probably annoyed Kallen might steal their thunder. They'd only gotten invitations because of her operations. But she couldn't show that. "I'm sorry, I was cut off when the storm happened."
"Well, thank God for small miracles, I guess," said Ms. Stadtfeld.
And they moved through the halls until, at last, they came into a great ballroom. There was a crystal chandelier above, wine to one side, and many nobles. All of them moved in fine garments and elaborate colors, speaking with eyes high.
And there was Prince Clovis.
He was every bit as majestic in person as he was in on the television, oddly. His hair was clearly well done and long. And he looked like some Prince out of fairy tales, in his blue suit and white clothes. As he came forward, he smiled. "Ah, Lady Stadtfeld, you are here at last.
"Your presence was missed."
Wait, he recognized them?
"Thank you, Prince Clovis," said Ms. Stadtfeld. "I'm honored to have been invited."
"And Kallen Stadtfeld, we had feared none of your group would be able to attend," said Clovis.
Kallen got into character. "It's actually a minor miracle I got here at all, Prince Clovis. My friends and I were trapped in the hurricane.
"I'm afraid my friends are all otherwise occupied. It was only my luck to be in the right place at the right time."
"I deeply admire what you and your friends have done in the ghetto," said Clovis. "If all Britannians had both your will and compassion, I think the world would be a far better place."
Kallen was taken aback by this because he seemed to genuinely mean it. "Thank you." That was all she managed to say.
"No doubt you've already met Sir Einstein and his daughter, Nalia," said Clovis.
Kallen looked to see a black-haired man with a mustache and a dark-haired woman of about twenty next to him. "I don't believe we've met."
"I've heard a great deal about your operations," said Mr. Einstein. However, he did not seem particularly impressed. "They must have taken a great deal of effort."
"Less than you'd think," said Kallen. "It was really getting the will to act that was the problem. I don't think most people realize how much potential they have."
"We should thank you for putting up with Nina," said Nalia. "She has a somewhat obsessive streak. It's probably good for her to have some people who understand her."
"Nina is one of the most important people in our organization," replied Kallen. "And she is a close friend."
Silence reigned, and Clovis shifted to Villetta. "Well, the Sakuradite business aside, Villetta, I'm glad to see you were able to join us. Has all been going well with Lord Gottwald?"
"He is fortifying the positions that you designated, Prince Clovis," said Villetta. "Observers have been sent out. If the Chinese make landfall, we will be waiting for them."
"I'm glad to hear it," said Clovis. "Perhaps we may enjoy ourselves at ease for a time, then."
This was...
Not at all what Kallen had expected. Clovis seemed to genuinely mean what he was saying, and it was throwing Kallen off. She'd been all prepared to pretend to be meek and passive while suffering from insincere smiles. Now she was contemplating the possibility that Clovis genuinely believed what he said.
But how could he?
Then again, Kallen had genuinely believed herself to be a put upon victim when she was really a jerk. It had taken someone setting her straight to make a difference. "Prince Clovis...
"May I ask you something?"
"Of course," said Clovis.
There was no way to sugarcoat this. "Why is Babel Tower being repaired before running water and electricity?"
Kallen had said it louder than expected, and the room went silent. Everyone stared in gobsmacked silence. Villetta stared in horror, though Clovis simply sipped his wine thoughtfully.
"Kallen you..." began Villetta.
"Please forgive the girl; she sometimes spaces out and does erratic things," said Mr. Stadtfeld. "You see-"
"No, no, please, you don't need to apologize. It's a good question," said Clovis with a laugh. "It's a rather complicated bit of economics. It was not a very interesting subject of conversation. But, I admire your concern for the settlement, certainly.
"Bartley, would you answer any questions that Ms. Stadtfeld might have. Such patriotic spirit is to be encouraged. The rest of you, follow me. Why don't we let them discuss things."
And they moved off.
"You're an inspiration, Prince Clovis," said a woman.
"Yes, the way you handle situations is amazing," said another.
Bartley, a portly, African Britannian man, came forward, looking just a bit annoyed. "I believe you had some questions."
Kallen decided she might as well get an answer. "...Why are we repairing Babel Tower instead of running water and electricity?"
"It's not the sort of thing one discusses in polite company, Ms. Stadtfeld," said Bartley. "I'd advise you not to talk business in these meetings. Not openly, anyway. You're lucky he was gracious enough to congratulate you; that could have been social suicide."
"Someone had to ask that question, Mr. Bartley," said Kallen, feeling annoyed now. "Do you have an answer?"
Bartley sighed. "Babel Tower is a cluster of many different businesses. Restaurants, game tables, pleasurable company, as well as a variety of social clubs. It is a center of economics where many people meet to conduct business.
"This in itself would not be a reason for priority, but there is another business that is conducted there." Kallen looked to where Villetta was standing by.
"What kind of business?" asked Kallen.
"It usually deals with the Sakuradite trade," said Bartley. "It's complex, and I'm not sure you'd be interested."
"I am," said Kallen. "You seem to know a lot about this."
Bartley seemed pleased by the statement. "Prince Clovis does rely on me for a great many matters when his attention is elsewhere.
"You see, Sakuradite stock is some of the most expensive there is. It is an industry that is growing and in demand. As a result, it is guaranteed to make a profit.
"Thus, anyone who is anyone in Britannia has Sakuradite stock. If you have it, you are guaranteed a considerable income. This has led to what you might call Sakuradite clubs. Areas where owners of the stock meet to talk about business. Usually, they dabble in other businesses and transfer wealth, arrange cooperation.
"Sometimes, they have larger, overarching goals. The Purebloods, for instance, are being funded by several of these Sakuradite clubs. In fact, that was how Clovis came to gain control of them. Though now, of course, Lord Gottwald is in charge of them, so they are more or less loyal to him."
"The Purebloods don't seem to have a very high opinion of you," noted Kallen. "Why is that? It doesn't seem deserved."
"Well, I am of African descent and only a quarter full Britannian," said Bartley. "Racial slavery might have been abolished after the Northern Rising. But a man of my color is not supposed to rise high in social circles. Prince Clovis was gracious enough to find a use for me, and I serve him to the best of my ability.
"Lord Gottwald is a traditionalist. While more progressive than some other Pureblood's, he is not fond of me."
"In that case, why doesn't he discriminate against Villetta?" asked Kallen.
"It's not really about race in this situation, Kallen," said Villetta. "Lord Gottwald respects people who exhibit the traditional Britannian virtues."
"Of which I have very little," admitted Bartley. "I'm a decent administrator, and I like to think I know a great deal that other people don't. But I prefer not to have a confrontation, and I am not one for a fight. Lord Gottwald does not like that I technically have a higher rank them him."
"Okay, so why is Babel Tower necessary for these Sakuradite clubs? There are plenty of clubs," said Kallen. "Couldn't they meet there?"
"That would be true," said Bartley. "Unfortunately, no true Britannian would ever socialize with a European or a Chinaman. Not unless they had diplomatic status. While not technically against the rules, prejudices make it difficult. Certainly, they'd never allow them into a club whose entire basis is being of superior breeding.
"In fact, the last time members of the upper classes were allowed into a club; it was a disaster. They ended up as a front for EU sabotage, costing us billions and setting our attacks back by months. The Emperor stripped several people of their rank, and quite a few were shot.
"But, every nation on Earth has its hand in Sakuradite. You can't internalize the industry because there are so few sources. And if we were to shut the other countries out, they might unite to get it.
"The resource is simply too important, and anyone who has the money will buy, especially since it gives them leverage here. And you need to negotiate with them somewhere since shutting them out would cause us all.
"Babel Tower and places like it thus serve as a middle ground of sorts.
"Many people who go there are already behaving in a way they don't want reported. So the ones' who have a genuine business can use that as cover. That allows Britannia to negotiate over Sakuradite without anyone being shot for treason.
"Once we conquer the world, these games will no longer be necessary. But until such a time as the Britannian flag stretches across every nation, we will have to put up with it.
"I assure you, a great many of the nobility find the place just a deplorable as you do." He looked up. "Ah, I'm being waved off. Prince Clovis doesn't want me sticking around too long; you ought to go over to him. They'll all have a good laugh at your expense, you can feel ridiculous, and all will be forgiven."
Kallen. "... You're a very smart man, Mr. Bartley.
"Thank you," said Bartley before moving off.
Kallen walked over to the crowd and saw Clovis speaking with a number of reporters. They fawned and hung on his every word and never made any suggestions or did anything he might not like. No wonder Clovis was so inept politically; no one was telling him what the problem was.
"So, did you enjoy your history lecture, Kallen?" asked Ms. Stadtfeld, tone slightly mocking.
"I do hope Bartley didn't bore you," said Clovis. "He's indispensable in many ways but can carry on."
"Not at all," said Kallen. "He's very well informed; you have excellent taste in subordinates Prince Clovis. I learned a lot."
This seemed to please Clovis far more than any of the praise he'd been given so far. Several of the sycophants shared a glance as Clovis came forward. "Well, yes, one in my position often has to seek the best help, even from unlikely places.
"Meritocracy is one of the principal reasons Britannia is successful."
"I'll be sure to reassure my friends," said Kallen, looking to build on this. "They were very worried about what the commoners might do, but you have it all in hand."
This seemed to disturb Clovis somewhat. The sycophants seemed to view it as an opportunity. But before they could move forward, he motioned to them. "...And what were you afraid of, Ms. Stadtfeld?"
"Well, they saw Babel Tower being rebuilt. And we saw some sketchy people trying to stir people up," said Kallen. "They kept trying to tell people that you'd abandoned them, though not in so horrible a words.
"Nobody was really listening to them, but a lot of commoners aren't thinking clearly at all. We were afraid that someone might whip them into a riot. My friends were trying to talk them down, but there isn't really much we could do.
"That's why I came here; I didn't even know I'd been invited. We were hoping to understand the reconstruction plan so we could pitch in."
"Hmm, I see," Clovis paused. "I remember Leila decided she ought to tour the settlement against my advice. Bartley."
Bartley came hurrying like a servant. But at least he was a servant and not a hanger-on. The other people were turning up their noses at him as he walked. Except, he was actually doing something; he was an expert. Kallen somehow doubted many of these people could say the same.
It was interesting how a servant could be much more important than a high noble.
"Yes, Prince Clovis?" asked Bartley.
"I want you to relocate some of the construction crews from Babel Tower," said Clovis. "Get running water and electricity back online; I think perhaps we can wait a bit longer to play chess."
"Of course, I'll see to it at once," said Bartley.
But Clovis was on a roll now and seemed to be considering things as Bartley turned away. "Also, what efforts are underway to assist in the settlement?"
"At present, Milner is in charge of the order. Though his police have been retasked to a number of other areas," said Bartley. "The uh... crisis in the South China Sea warrants attention."
"We have actually have taken action here," said Villetta. "A relief operation was started in the Shinjuku Ghetto by an Honorary Britannian. He was under Milner's command but was separated from contact during the storm.
"We've dispatched a number of emergency supplies to make his job easier. It should help make clear to the elevens that we remain in command,"
"And what of the Britannian settlement? What is being done there?" asked Clovis. "Ms. Stadtfeld, I believe you came from there."
Kallen decided to drop the meek act and stand to attention. "The Ashford Academy Student Council is providing food and supplies. Although, once we began operations, a lot of people started to gather. Our leader was afraid of possible violence if the crowd remained idle, so we retasked them.
"Since the police were unavailable, we had them fill in.
"Lelouch posted gun-owners in costume on the border with the ghettos. Under the command of retired police officers. Their orders are simply to look menacing and disarm anyone who wants to go through. We've also been coming off dangerous areas and clearing debris to help with operations."
"All done by commoners?" asked Clovis, sounding impressed. Mr. and Ms. Stadtfeld looked horrified, an expression that was shared by many others.
"Britannians are the superior race, your highness," said Kallen.
"Well, I'm pleased to hear I'm practically irrelevant," joked Clovis, getting a laugh that Kallen didn't share. "A pity Lord Gottwald is in the north; I'm sure he'd be pleased to see his theories verified so."
"They hardly needed to, Prince Clovis," said Ms. Stadtfeld, trying to share some of the light.
"Tell me, Bartley, what would you say we ought to do next in this situation?" asked Clovis. "I fear this wine is a bit too good for my senses."
"At present?" asked Bartley. "Making your presence known to the people would be more than sufficient, your highness. We have your channels nearly on; you can announce yourself. Declare that construction crews are being retasked. Congratulate them on their operations, and explain why help has been delayed.
"It might also be wise to acknowledge that errors have been made if only to reassure them. A bit of context should be more than sufficient to deal with any doubts."
"Yes," said Clovis. "Let's get to that at once. The sooner, the better."
And he walked up a flight of stairs to stand before a screen. A backdrop lowered behind him, and a reporter standing by opened a channel. "And now, his highness Prince Clovis will address the nation."
"To all my imperial subjects," said Clovis, voice serious. "A series have storms have caused major disruption to our industrial base. Communications and transport capabilities have been severely limited. In addition, several major errors have been made in the allocation of resources. However, these are being corrected as we speak.
"I congratulate all the citizens of Area 11 in their exemplary service in this time of need. I ask that you pardon the police. Recent events have drawn them away to numerous crisis points. While this is a source of hardship, the priority of these acts cannot be overstated. We face threats from without, as well as within.
"For now, each and every one of us must do all that is within our power to recover from this disaster. Our personal desires must be put aside in favor of aiding those around us. For the battle we fight is a righteous one. If Area 11 is not restored to full functionality, the glorious mission of Britannia may well be set back.
"Indeed, this is a moment of crisis for us all. It is one that shall end to either our eternal glory or our perpetual shame. I ask now that you endure what hardship you must, until the day we have restored this land to strength."
Oh my God, Clovis was actually a good ruler.
His decision so far had been completely rational and made perfect sense. The problem was the people who surrounded him. All these contemptible parasites vying for favor had created a delusional fantasyland—one which phased out the reality outside of this bubble.
The problem wasn't that Clovis was making bad decisions.
The problem was that he was making good decisions which only worked for a parallel universe. If a disaster happened because of him, everyone would underplay it. Then the successes would be overplayed. It made sense; Clovis had inherited a devastated economy within a nation in ruins. He had rebuilt in less than a decade; you would have to have some skill to do that.
He obviously had a good eye for talent. And he'd successfully gained control and even convinced Kyoto to play ball. That took diplomatic flair. So the parasites had changed strategies. Unable to stop or destroy him, they had created an alternate reality. To make him destroy himself as he gradually succumbed to flattery and vice.
"You were magnificent, your highness," said one.
"One would never guess you were attending a party while doing so," said a woman. She might have well have been a succubus; she was showing nearly as much leg. Feeding his pride while reminding him he was still a bad person and might as well enjoy it.
"It's all in the performance," said Clovis as he came down. "Since they want a charismatic Prince, I give them one."
"Untrue," said a fat reporter with a mustache. "Our sole purpose in life is to assist your rule in any way we can."
Clovis ignored him and warded off someone offering him a new cloak. "Still, the matter of the Chinese fleet is problematic. Are you sure all is being done that can be done?"
"Knightmare forces have already been dispatched to likely invasion points," said Bartley. "Our engineers are working around the clock to restore our existing frames. If the Chinese do attack, we should be able to delay them long enough for the rest to come back on.
"We have a defensive position after all, and naval invasions of Japan are difficult."
"Wouldn't it be better to not have them invade at all, though?" asked Kallen. She needed to destroy the grip these parasites held over him. If she didn't, this slew of good decisions wouldn't last.
"Ms. Stadtfeld, I'm sure we can all agree on that," said Clovis. "But I'm not sure we can control what the Chinese do. Even we are not gods just yet."
What to do? Just say something, anything. Keep him focused on her. "But can't we control what they see?"
Clovis paused. "What do you mean by that?"
"Well, the Chinese are cowards," said Kallen, remembering her Pureblood persona. "They would never dare attack a Britannian army. Not unless they were sure they had overwhelming force. The only reason they might attack us is that they think we're defenseless.
"The Japanese invasion into China only stopped because of us.
"So what if we did what is being done here on a larger scale?"
"Wine and dine all the Knightmare pilots?" asked Ms. Stadtfeld. "You're ridiculous, Kallen."
"No, I mean..." Kallen paused. "We can just send out the knightmares we have here to some of the areas in need of aid. Then we send some journalists to talk about the humanitarian efforts. One overseen by the heroic Knightmare pilots or something.
"If we broadcast it all over the net and the airwaves..."
"The Chinese will think we have knightmares to throw away," realized Villetta. "We already have a Knightmare garrison here, Prince Clovis. If the Chinese became a threat, it would be no inconvenience to relocate them. Tokyo is a very unlikely attack point anyway."
"So we create a great media spectacle to make the Chinese dragon cower back into its hole," mused Clovis. "No Saint George required.
"I think I like the idea. Lady Villetta, see to this at once. And... there are reporters here; I'd like to ask for some volunteers. Some of you will have to get your hands dirty, but I'm sure such enterprising reporters will be only too eager."
Now, if the reporters had been career-minded, ambitious people, they'd have jumped at the chance. But if they were career-minded, ambitious people, they wouldn't have been in this part, would they? Yes, it was the smart move to accept, but their reflexes were off. Their first thought was probably contemplating getting all the muck on them.
They didn't want to cover real news. They wanted to fawn over a charismatic Prince, get drunk, and sneer at the lower-class scrubs. And so all of them hesitated, and because none of them had any courage at all, they hesitated again. Why was everyone else refusing? Was there some risk? Gradually it dawned on them, but none of them wanted to go, so eventually, one of them decided to come up with an excuse.
"We would not dream of leaving your exploits unreported, Prince Clovis," said the fat man.
This seemed to irritate Clovis, and he was perfectly right to be irritated. When a Royal asked you for volunteers, it was traditional for there to be some. "...Very well, where is Mr. Reid?"
"I don't believe he attended. I do not think Mr. Reid enjoys covering these parties very much," said Bartley. "He has never been one for socializing."
"So we have a room full of reporters. And not one of them wants to do any reporting when the fate of Area 11 rests on it," said Clovis in disgust.
Now they realized their danger. They had been asked to perform a service for Royalty. Failing to rise to the occasion had earned Clovis' displasure. "We were merely stunned. I'm sure we can-"
"Prince Clovis, I think we may actually have some people on site who can fill in for them," said Kallen. "I don't think we need inconvenience them."
Clovis looked up. "Oh really? Do tell."
"Ashford Academy has a camera club, and a lot of people in it dabble in amateur reporting," said Kallen. "One of our early projects was spreading awareness about the reconstruction. To try and assist your reign.
"If you'll allow me to make a call, we might be able to get some cameras and cover things directly. Milly is very good at this sort of thing."
"Carry on then," said Clovis.
Kallen drew out a phone and dialed it. Putting it to her ear, she listened as it picked up. "Milly?"
"Kallen, are you alright?" asked Milly. "Rolo says you got invited to a party."
"Sorry I'm late, Milly," said Kallen. "Prince Clovis's relief effort is underway. They should be retasking some construction crews to running water and electricity. Make sure you tell people that so we don't have any incidents."
"Right, got it," said Milly, though she was doubtful. "Did you have anything to do with that? We heard the announcement."
"Apparently, there was a communication issue or two," said Kallen. "It's been fixed, I think.
"Right now, though, there will be knightmare frames coming toward most relief efforts. They aren't going to interfere; they are there for show."
"I'm not sure heavy weaponry is going to help the situation, Kallen," said Milly.
"It's not this situation. It's helping Milly. We're bluffing the Chinese," said Kallen. "We want to have the media flaring with pictures of Knightmare frames. If the Chinese see we've got enough knightmares to waste on that kind of thing, they'll assume we have a surplus.
"Our basic problem right now is making sure there isn't an incident. With tensions the way they are, somebody might be stupid enough to fire a shot. So you need to get in contact with anyone you know with a camera and get ready to write up articles and post footage."
"Right, I uh... you really shouldn't send anyone to the ghettos," said Milly.
Kallen thought she was completely right. "Duly noted. I'll tell him.
"Just be sure to tell Lelouch."
She hung up and breathed a sigh of relief. Okay, things were getting better; now they had to press their advantage.
"Is everything well?" asked Clovis, putting down his wine glass.
"Milly is concerned. She's afraid sending knightmares to the ghettos could cause problems," said Kallen. "She's afraid the resistance groups might see it as an opportunity to cause problems. I've read they've been hijacking food shipments, so it wouldn't be beneath some of them."
"Well, I'm certain the Honorary Britannians know their own lands better than us," said Clovis. "We'll focus on the main settlement and leave things to them.
"Bartley, I want you to call up all the Honorary Britannians you can, send them to Shinjuku. Put them under the command of this Suzaku Kururugi, at least for the moment. It'll ensure they can't get into any trouble in the settlement and should fix things."
"Prince Clovis, why are you putting Honorary Britannians in command of one of their own?" asked Villetta in shock. "They could turn on us!"
"Yes, they might march on the Viceroy's Palace and be instantly mowed down by the auto turrets," noted Clovis. "They don't even have guns, Villetta. And they are by definition more trustworthy than the normal elevens.
"If we can't trust them to make a rescue effort on their own people, we may as well abandon the Honorary Britannian system. And that would be a lot of work and political maneuvering for nothing, wouldn't it?"
"Perhaps we should put them under the Command of Milner," said Bartley. "He is the normal authority on them."
"Yes, where is Captain Milner?" asked Clovis. "I give him a position as Police Chief, and yet he seems to be the only person in the entire Area who hasn't pitched in." But as he said it, his eyes moved just slightly toward the journalists, who had gone back to wine drinking.
As far as they were concerned, the crisis had passed, and now they could go back to enjoying themselves. They were screwed. If they'd thought about things rationally, they'd realize Clovis could get rid of them and lose nothing. But they weren't thinking rationally.
Their belly was their god.
"...Prince Clovis, there is one other matter which is not of immediate concern," said Bartley. "I had intended to tell you of it once the situation was stable and we had more information."
Clovis sighed. "Very well then, one thing after another. To one side then."
And he moved to one side. As he did, Bartley spoke with obvious concern, and Prince Clovis' expression changed. "You fool! Why didn't you tell me about this at first?! If that material gets into the wrong hands..."
"We have a tracker on the truck," said Bartley. "It's underwater in a submerged neighborhood, Prince Clovis. As far as we can tell, the truck was overtaken by the storm, fell into a sinkhole, and was drowned. Anyone who could have seen it happen is either dead or miles away.
"And even if they did see it, they couldn't possibly have known it to be anything but a food truck.
"We know where it is. It could take weeks for the waters to recede; Captain Milner is merely trying to find the exact location. Everything is in hand, and we didn't have people to spare."
Clovis sighed. "I see.
"Very well, fortune has smiled on us then."
And he walked back.
"Is something wrong, your highness?" asked Villetta.
"It's nothing," said Clovis. "Poison gas captured from enemies of Britannia. We've been trying to find a way to dispose of it safely for some time. If it were released in a populated area, it could cause a bloodbath." Kallen would have to report that Naoto probably would have seen the truck leave.
And Milner was vulnerable. But she couldn't make that kind of call here; she'd have to wait.
"Still, there is no point in panicking until we have something to panic about," said Clovis. "Everything that can be done is being done." Then he paused. "Although I said that a moment ago.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I must ask your pardon. I would not forsake your company for the world, but the situation requires monitoring. I'm afraid I must retire and ensure all is being done well.
"The burdens of rule.
"To all my honored guests, I bid you enjoy the rest of the festivities. As for the layabout's journalists..." And he looked at them with steel that Kallen had only ever seen on Lelouch. It was the kind of expression you saw on someone who had killed people, if only directly. "Get out of my sight."
He waited for all of them to be escorted out before he walked out with Kallen, Villetta, and Bartley. "Ms. Stadtfeld, I'm told you are a pureblood in training, and we are short of manpower. If your superiors judge you worthy, would you care to take part in the knightmare exercises?"
Opportunity knocked. "I would be honored, Prince Clovis."
"Excellent," said Clovis. "Villetta Nu, please make sure she gets a knightmare."
"As you wish," said Villetta.
Villetta and Kallen retreated to the changing room from before. Stripping down, Kallen looked to where Villetta was stark naked. The dark-skinned woman slid one of her white leggings up one long leg while bent over. Pulling on the other, she stood. She was uh... really fit, wasn't she?
Looking up from where she was bet over, Villetta smiled. "Do you know what you've done, Kallen?"
"No, why don't you tell me?" said Kallen, outfit dropping from her hand. She was going red in the face.
"You've ingratiated yourself to Bartley, impressed Prince Clovis, fixed the relief effort. You've sidelined the media and replaced them with a faction loyal to you," said Villetta. "We've gotten more done today than we have in years." Standing up, Villetta moved in close and cupped Kallen's cheek. "If you're not dead in ten years, Kallen, you'll probably be running this place."
Kallen found herself becoming red and trying to keep her eyes on Villeta's face. They were standing here, naked except Villetta's leggings and inches apart. "Erm.. thank you."
"Let's get you a knightmare," said Villetta with a smile. It was just a bit predatory, and Kallen felt like she was being hunted.
She kind of liked it.
Kallen threw on her clothes and tried to focus on the job. But her thoughts kept drifting.