Char awakened on the morning of February 10 with the obligatory post-stag
hangover. Images of strippers and he didn't know how many beers still
danced in his head. Fortunately, he wasn't due at the Supreme Court until
the afternoon. He'd stored up bottles of sports drinks, knowing that he
was going to feel rotten on the morning of his wedding.
His personal belongings were already boxed up and would be transported to the palace around noon. He sat in his living room in his underwear, sucking back sports drinks from the bottle, his toes wrapped around the edge of the coffee table. The morning light, warm and blue as it was, didn't seem very friendly. He'd always believed he was ready to do anything to forward the goals of his father, but this seemed beyond the pale. He didn't love Kishiria, he loved Lalla Sun. True, marriage to Lalla was completely impossible due to her being, well, dead, but to marry so soon after her death seemed wrong.
On the other hand, there had been that dream where she and his father had told him to do this. Char took a few painkillers and wondered if that had been only a dream, not a New Type experience.
He sighed. Too late now. Char went out for breakfast and drowned his sorrows in eggs and bacon.
At noon, Char dressed in his most formal uniform, a variant on his usual red-and-black with a longer cape and more gold embroidery. At 1:00, he gave a grim goodbye to his friends, who hadn't recovered from their drinking as well as he had. They livened up somewhat when he delivered his not- inconsiderable porn collection into their hands. He then got into a Zabi family limousine and rode to the Supreme Court.
Ostensibly, the wedding was being held privately at the Supreme Court due to the death of the king a mere six weeks before. The fact was that Kishiria was an agnostic and felt a religious wedding would be hypocritical. Char was an atheist, so that suited him perfectly well.
The Supreme Courtroom was of the same neo-Gothic style as Parliament. The mahogany bench for the nine Law Lords dominated the room. The Law Lords themselves, resplendant in their red velvet robes trimmed with white ermine, sat as witnesses. Justice Prem, who was a municipal judge from Zum City, descended from the bench to conduct the ceremony.
Kishiria had also opted for her most formal uniform and was attended as always by the faithful Maria and Margaret. Not that they were needed for anything but moral support; Kishiria didn't have so much as a bouquet, much less a veil to keep track of. The ceremony was mercifully short. A few minutes of encouragement from Justice Prem, then the vows. Char's vows were to "love, honour, and obey". Kishiria's were not. They exchanged plain gold rings and kissed.
My fate is sealed, Char thought to himself. No more film stars. No more groupies. And in about five months, no more sleeping all night, either.
In the car afterwards, Kishiria broke the silence by saying, "Where do you want your belongings? Since my family is all dead, there are four empty apartments for you to choose from."
"Thank you."
"Unless you'd like to move into mine. I've taken my father's old suite. It has four bedrooms, and I figured that with a baby on the way it'd be good to have a nursery, and a playroom, and a room for Maria of course. But if you wanted to take one of those rooms, that'd be all right."
Char placed a hand on the violet silk of her skirt, feeling the warmth of her knee beneath. He did something he ordinarily would have considered the height of unethical behaviour and touched her emotions. Her earlier parable about the snake and the old woman had left him feeling more than a little paranoid.
Kishiria was afraid. It wasn't the fear of a queen who wanted to keep an eye on her volatile consort, or of who wanted him for extra security, but the simple fear of a young woman who was pregnant and almost alone.
Some snake, he thought, and then reminded himself that Kishiria wouldn't be pregnant forever.
"I think I should be in your quarters," he said. "If I have my own apartment, the public will find out and wonder why."
"Your plant wants a bigger pot," she commented out of nowhere. "If you don't know how to do it, I do. You can put it in the solarium next to my palm tree."
"Go ahead. Thanks."
An hour later, he sat in the solarium watching Kishiria transfer Harold from one pot into another. She wore jeans and a man's shirt and shunned gardening gloves. She obviously didn't mind getting her hands dirty, literally.
"That was easy," she said, brushing black soil from her hands. "Nice, grounding thing to do. I should garden more." She caught sight of her reflection in one of the big windows and turned sideways, stroking the shirt against her belly. "Prime Minister Darcia and my cabinet have advised me to get my fanny onto the throne as quickly as I can, to stablize the politics here. The Master of Etiquette says he can prepare everything in two months. He'd better; I want to get through this coronation in one piece." She prodded gingerly at her much-expanded breasts. "Think I should explore a second career as a pin-up model?"
"Let's see if there's a market. I read the press release about our wedding and saw that the PR office is finally confirming that there's an heir on the way."
"It was going to become obvious soon. The political cartoons tomorrow should be hilarious." She walked over to him and sat down by his side. "The Federation is not going to be happy about this at all. We should wake up tomorrow to hints of their next move."
"Good. The sooner we can anticipate their moves, the better."
"We'll be bringing up the remaining troops and armaments from Earth. You must feel out-of-place without a mobile suit around you. I'll order one and have it painted red."
"Add the crest of Jion," he said. "I'm Prince Consort, after all."
Kishiria smiled at him. "Done."
*****
Sayla Mass sat in her room with a cup of coffee on her lap. Amuro was doing all right and there wasn't anything to go out for. She had a bar fridge and a coffee maker in her room, and it was rather nice to have breakfast by herself with her own thoughts for once.
So of course there was a knock on the door. She pulled a robe over her nightgown and opened the door to Kai.
"Morning, Sayla."
"Morning, Kai. Come in. Coffee?"
"Sure, thanks. One cream, one sugar." When Sayla had given him the cup, he began, "I gotta tell you, this isn't a social call. There's news from Jion. I thought you should hear this from a friend, not off tv or something."
He handed her a printout from JBC's web site. Sayla took it and read the headline. She looked at the picture. "Kai...my brother...he married her."
Kai nodded. "It gets worse. Remember a couple of nights ago, I said I thought Kishiria looked pregnant? Check it out. It's official from Zabi House. She's four months along. You're going to be an aunt."
Sayla sank down into the one chair. "What's the reaction from the Federation?"
"None yet, but Bright got called in to a breakfast meeting with the brass this morning."
"We should keep ourselves ready. Thanks for bringing this to me, Kai."
"Like I said, I figured it should come from a friend."
"It did." She stood up and gave him a hug. "I wonder if this means Casval's going to come looking for me. At the very least, he could do something embarrassing like mentioning my existence to the press."
"Let's cross that bridge when we come to it. Listen, Hayato and I are going bowling after lunch. I know it might not appeal to a classy gal like you, but you're welcome to join us."
"I've never bowled. It could be fun. I need fun."
"We'll meet you for lunch." Kai left her, and walked down the hall muttering, "Need fun? Yes you do, girly-girl, yes you certainly do."
*****
"You want us to go where?"
Bright Noah gaped incomprehendingly at the Federation officers present for this meeting. The Federation officers and the Federation Secretary of State, no less.
"The Government of Jion has of course invited a delegation from Earth to the coronation of General Zabi," the Secretary was saying. "It's the decision of our government that the prominent members of White Base should be part of that delegation."
"We're the people who brought down A Bao A Qu. Don't you think it's a bit of an insult to send us?"
"Oh, of course," said one General Malarny. "We want to see how the new monarch will react. The Jions have been remarkably silent, with the exception of pulling their remaining forces off Earth. That could be an act of peace, but in doing so, they're recovering their last remaining mobile suits as well. We're trying to sound them out." After a few moments of silence from Bright, he went on, "As a British citizen, Captain Noah, I'd expect you to have a fondness for royal scenes."
"We're not all monarchists," Bright responded, concealing indignation. "And even if I am, the fondness is for our own royals, not those of some upstart dynasty. Not that it matters. We have our orders, and I will pass them along to my crew. I'm sure it will be no different from our other encounters with the Jions." Bright paused for a moment. "Except with champagne, this time."
*****
For all that Degin Zabi's old bedroom was large and airy, Kishiria felt oppressed in it. She climbed into bed that night with a sense of general unease. It was the whole New Type thing again, she supposed as she lay back with a book. Her father must not have slept easily in this room, burdened down by the weight of the nation, then depression after the death of his youngest son, then the knowledge that Giren was utterly out of control. It was reasonable that Degin's trouble would have suffused into the walls.
She read for a while, then turned out the light and snuggled under the covers. As she did every night, Kishiria pressed a hand against her abdomen, sensing the growing presence of her child in there and radiating love to it in return. They lulled each other to sleep.
Kishiria awakened with a scream half in her throat. She snapped half- upright, yelped when her hair was caught under her elbow. She didn't know what she had been dreaming, but whatever it was, the terror was still with her. She swung her feet to the floor and ran down the hall, tossing her dressing gown around her shoulders.
She'd hoped Char would be awake, but he wasn't. Kishiria closed the door quietly behind her and sought out the relative safety of her consort's bed. It was warm under the covers with him, and he didn't panic on finding her there.
"Hm?" he asked.
"Nightmare," she answered. "I felt scared." She cuddled against him, feeling the lines of his muscular body against her back.
"You can always sleep here with me," Char said with gentle sarcasm, seeing as she'd already decided to do just that. He brushed strands of her hair away from his nose and draped an arm over her. She was still shivering a little. He got comfortable and closed his eyes.
An explosion sent them both flying to the right of the bed. Char landed on the floor while Kishiria was merely bounced to the edge. He grabbed her arm and pulled her down on top of him.
"Wait. There might be another one," he whispered to her. There wasn't, and they began to hear footsteps in the corridor. The door of the bedroom was flung open and Maria appeared, in her nightgown and ready to give in to hysteria if needed. "Kishiria! Are you in here?"
"I'm right here," Kishiria said, raising a hand. "I'm fine."
Maria swept over to her. If she noticed Char's nudity, she didn't show it. "I heard that noise, and I looked into your room, and the wall, the bed, everything, was gone and burning, and I thought, Señor, let her be in here."
Char was on his feet, fastening his trousers and pulling on a t-shirt. He slid his feet into boots and his arms into the sleeves of his red tunic. "I'll go see what's going on. Here." He handed Kishiria his sidearm and ran from the room.
In that short amount of time, every police car in Zum City had descended on the scene. "How did it happen?" Char demanded of the captain of the royal guard.
"Incendiary device from outside. Probably launched from somewhere. My guess is that the attacker figured you and Her Majesty would be in that bedroom, it being your wedding night at all."
"We made other plans."
"We got something!" A municipal constable and one of the royal guard came over with a tattered piece of fabric. Char leaned over it as one of the guards shone a light down on it.
"It's the old Republican flag," the captain of the guard said. "There's something on the back."
The captain of the guard turned the cloth over with tweezers, assisted by the two constables. Written there in white ink was a simple question:
"WHERE IS ARTESIA?"
"Who's Artesia?" asked a constable who looked about Char's age.
"My sister," Char answered, sadly.
His personal belongings were already boxed up and would be transported to the palace around noon. He sat in his living room in his underwear, sucking back sports drinks from the bottle, his toes wrapped around the edge of the coffee table. The morning light, warm and blue as it was, didn't seem very friendly. He'd always believed he was ready to do anything to forward the goals of his father, but this seemed beyond the pale. He didn't love Kishiria, he loved Lalla Sun. True, marriage to Lalla was completely impossible due to her being, well, dead, but to marry so soon after her death seemed wrong.
On the other hand, there had been that dream where she and his father had told him to do this. Char took a few painkillers and wondered if that had been only a dream, not a New Type experience.
He sighed. Too late now. Char went out for breakfast and drowned his sorrows in eggs and bacon.
At noon, Char dressed in his most formal uniform, a variant on his usual red-and-black with a longer cape and more gold embroidery. At 1:00, he gave a grim goodbye to his friends, who hadn't recovered from their drinking as well as he had. They livened up somewhat when he delivered his not- inconsiderable porn collection into their hands. He then got into a Zabi family limousine and rode to the Supreme Court.
Ostensibly, the wedding was being held privately at the Supreme Court due to the death of the king a mere six weeks before. The fact was that Kishiria was an agnostic and felt a religious wedding would be hypocritical. Char was an atheist, so that suited him perfectly well.
The Supreme Courtroom was of the same neo-Gothic style as Parliament. The mahogany bench for the nine Law Lords dominated the room. The Law Lords themselves, resplendant in their red velvet robes trimmed with white ermine, sat as witnesses. Justice Prem, who was a municipal judge from Zum City, descended from the bench to conduct the ceremony.
Kishiria had also opted for her most formal uniform and was attended as always by the faithful Maria and Margaret. Not that they were needed for anything but moral support; Kishiria didn't have so much as a bouquet, much less a veil to keep track of. The ceremony was mercifully short. A few minutes of encouragement from Justice Prem, then the vows. Char's vows were to "love, honour, and obey". Kishiria's were not. They exchanged plain gold rings and kissed.
My fate is sealed, Char thought to himself. No more film stars. No more groupies. And in about five months, no more sleeping all night, either.
In the car afterwards, Kishiria broke the silence by saying, "Where do you want your belongings? Since my family is all dead, there are four empty apartments for you to choose from."
"Thank you."
"Unless you'd like to move into mine. I've taken my father's old suite. It has four bedrooms, and I figured that with a baby on the way it'd be good to have a nursery, and a playroom, and a room for Maria of course. But if you wanted to take one of those rooms, that'd be all right."
Char placed a hand on the violet silk of her skirt, feeling the warmth of her knee beneath. He did something he ordinarily would have considered the height of unethical behaviour and touched her emotions. Her earlier parable about the snake and the old woman had left him feeling more than a little paranoid.
Kishiria was afraid. It wasn't the fear of a queen who wanted to keep an eye on her volatile consort, or of who wanted him for extra security, but the simple fear of a young woman who was pregnant and almost alone.
Some snake, he thought, and then reminded himself that Kishiria wouldn't be pregnant forever.
"I think I should be in your quarters," he said. "If I have my own apartment, the public will find out and wonder why."
"Your plant wants a bigger pot," she commented out of nowhere. "If you don't know how to do it, I do. You can put it in the solarium next to my palm tree."
"Go ahead. Thanks."
An hour later, he sat in the solarium watching Kishiria transfer Harold from one pot into another. She wore jeans and a man's shirt and shunned gardening gloves. She obviously didn't mind getting her hands dirty, literally.
"That was easy," she said, brushing black soil from her hands. "Nice, grounding thing to do. I should garden more." She caught sight of her reflection in one of the big windows and turned sideways, stroking the shirt against her belly. "Prime Minister Darcia and my cabinet have advised me to get my fanny onto the throne as quickly as I can, to stablize the politics here. The Master of Etiquette says he can prepare everything in two months. He'd better; I want to get through this coronation in one piece." She prodded gingerly at her much-expanded breasts. "Think I should explore a second career as a pin-up model?"
"Let's see if there's a market. I read the press release about our wedding and saw that the PR office is finally confirming that there's an heir on the way."
"It was going to become obvious soon. The political cartoons tomorrow should be hilarious." She walked over to him and sat down by his side. "The Federation is not going to be happy about this at all. We should wake up tomorrow to hints of their next move."
"Good. The sooner we can anticipate their moves, the better."
"We'll be bringing up the remaining troops and armaments from Earth. You must feel out-of-place without a mobile suit around you. I'll order one and have it painted red."
"Add the crest of Jion," he said. "I'm Prince Consort, after all."
Kishiria smiled at him. "Done."
*****
Sayla Mass sat in her room with a cup of coffee on her lap. Amuro was doing all right and there wasn't anything to go out for. She had a bar fridge and a coffee maker in her room, and it was rather nice to have breakfast by herself with her own thoughts for once.
So of course there was a knock on the door. She pulled a robe over her nightgown and opened the door to Kai.
"Morning, Sayla."
"Morning, Kai. Come in. Coffee?"
"Sure, thanks. One cream, one sugar." When Sayla had given him the cup, he began, "I gotta tell you, this isn't a social call. There's news from Jion. I thought you should hear this from a friend, not off tv or something."
He handed her a printout from JBC's web site. Sayla took it and read the headline. She looked at the picture. "Kai...my brother...he married her."
Kai nodded. "It gets worse. Remember a couple of nights ago, I said I thought Kishiria looked pregnant? Check it out. It's official from Zabi House. She's four months along. You're going to be an aunt."
Sayla sank down into the one chair. "What's the reaction from the Federation?"
"None yet, but Bright got called in to a breakfast meeting with the brass this morning."
"We should keep ourselves ready. Thanks for bringing this to me, Kai."
"Like I said, I figured it should come from a friend."
"It did." She stood up and gave him a hug. "I wonder if this means Casval's going to come looking for me. At the very least, he could do something embarrassing like mentioning my existence to the press."
"Let's cross that bridge when we come to it. Listen, Hayato and I are going bowling after lunch. I know it might not appeal to a classy gal like you, but you're welcome to join us."
"I've never bowled. It could be fun. I need fun."
"We'll meet you for lunch." Kai left her, and walked down the hall muttering, "Need fun? Yes you do, girly-girl, yes you certainly do."
*****
"You want us to go where?"
Bright Noah gaped incomprehendingly at the Federation officers present for this meeting. The Federation officers and the Federation Secretary of State, no less.
"The Government of Jion has of course invited a delegation from Earth to the coronation of General Zabi," the Secretary was saying. "It's the decision of our government that the prominent members of White Base should be part of that delegation."
"We're the people who brought down A Bao A Qu. Don't you think it's a bit of an insult to send us?"
"Oh, of course," said one General Malarny. "We want to see how the new monarch will react. The Jions have been remarkably silent, with the exception of pulling their remaining forces off Earth. That could be an act of peace, but in doing so, they're recovering their last remaining mobile suits as well. We're trying to sound them out." After a few moments of silence from Bright, he went on, "As a British citizen, Captain Noah, I'd expect you to have a fondness for royal scenes."
"We're not all monarchists," Bright responded, concealing indignation. "And even if I am, the fondness is for our own royals, not those of some upstart dynasty. Not that it matters. We have our orders, and I will pass them along to my crew. I'm sure it will be no different from our other encounters with the Jions." Bright paused for a moment. "Except with champagne, this time."
*****
For all that Degin Zabi's old bedroom was large and airy, Kishiria felt oppressed in it. She climbed into bed that night with a sense of general unease. It was the whole New Type thing again, she supposed as she lay back with a book. Her father must not have slept easily in this room, burdened down by the weight of the nation, then depression after the death of his youngest son, then the knowledge that Giren was utterly out of control. It was reasonable that Degin's trouble would have suffused into the walls.
She read for a while, then turned out the light and snuggled under the covers. As she did every night, Kishiria pressed a hand against her abdomen, sensing the growing presence of her child in there and radiating love to it in return. They lulled each other to sleep.
Kishiria awakened with a scream half in her throat. She snapped half- upright, yelped when her hair was caught under her elbow. She didn't know what she had been dreaming, but whatever it was, the terror was still with her. She swung her feet to the floor and ran down the hall, tossing her dressing gown around her shoulders.
She'd hoped Char would be awake, but he wasn't. Kishiria closed the door quietly behind her and sought out the relative safety of her consort's bed. It was warm under the covers with him, and he didn't panic on finding her there.
"Hm?" he asked.
"Nightmare," she answered. "I felt scared." She cuddled against him, feeling the lines of his muscular body against her back.
"You can always sleep here with me," Char said with gentle sarcasm, seeing as she'd already decided to do just that. He brushed strands of her hair away from his nose and draped an arm over her. She was still shivering a little. He got comfortable and closed his eyes.
An explosion sent them both flying to the right of the bed. Char landed on the floor while Kishiria was merely bounced to the edge. He grabbed her arm and pulled her down on top of him.
"Wait. There might be another one," he whispered to her. There wasn't, and they began to hear footsteps in the corridor. The door of the bedroom was flung open and Maria appeared, in her nightgown and ready to give in to hysteria if needed. "Kishiria! Are you in here?"
"I'm right here," Kishiria said, raising a hand. "I'm fine."
Maria swept over to her. If she noticed Char's nudity, she didn't show it. "I heard that noise, and I looked into your room, and the wall, the bed, everything, was gone and burning, and I thought, Señor, let her be in here."
Char was on his feet, fastening his trousers and pulling on a t-shirt. He slid his feet into boots and his arms into the sleeves of his red tunic. "I'll go see what's going on. Here." He handed Kishiria his sidearm and ran from the room.
In that short amount of time, every police car in Zum City had descended on the scene. "How did it happen?" Char demanded of the captain of the royal guard.
"Incendiary device from outside. Probably launched from somewhere. My guess is that the attacker figured you and Her Majesty would be in that bedroom, it being your wedding night at all."
"We made other plans."
"We got something!" A municipal constable and one of the royal guard came over with a tattered piece of fabric. Char leaned over it as one of the guards shone a light down on it.
"It's the old Republican flag," the captain of the guard said. "There's something on the back."
The captain of the guard turned the cloth over with tweezers, assisted by the two constables. Written there in white ink was a simple question:
"WHERE IS ARTESIA?"
"Who's Artesia?" asked a constable who looked about Char's age.
"My sister," Char answered, sadly.