The Prime's voice halted with another coughing fit. When he recovered, he gestured for me to take over the tale of what had happened when the Prince returned early from his mission. This is the story of those last hours when the House fell around me.
I was loitering in the palace corridors when I first heard the news of the Lady's son sudden homecoming, his arrival throwing the palace into turmoil.
"He was not supposed to be back for another month", said the Keeper of the Court, his frown wavering as he scurried towards the Prime's East wing.
"What will the Prime do?" the retinue of courtiers murmured among themselves, rubbing their hands at the prospect of strife between father and son.
"We are not ready", cried the scullery maids when I ventured into the kitchens in chase of left-overs.
Belly full, I returned to the Lady's quarters, eager to tell her of the rumours about her son. I had but said two words when the Prince's voice bellowed as he made his way into the West wing, throwing doors open and tossing aside all who stood in his path. He rushed into the Lady's chamber and threw me in a corner of the room where I cowered, petrified by his fury. Six of his soldiers turned on their heels, facing the long corridor, their back straight and arms at the ready.
"Who was he?" the young man roared.
The Lady had no fear of her son. She walked to him, her heavy brocade dress brushing the floor. She had been awaiting the House Prime that afternoon, and her maid had already helped her get into the clothes he liked her to wear. That's how I remember the Lady after all those years, regal and beautiful, her grey hair flowing down her back, her lashes long, her eyes blue like pools at low tide where one sees the reflection of the sky.
"Use the voice I now know you have, Mother. Tell me who he was."
She said nothing of course, and simply put her hand on his chest armour, her face questioning his words.
"Tell me how you could abandon him and become a whore to that man." Her son pointed to the East wing looming over the garden trees.
She slapped him, her eyes darkening so fast it felt like a thundercloud had wrapped itself over the house.
As quick as she was, she was no match for the sharpened reflexes of a soldier. The Prince snatched her wrist and pulled her closer to him. I held my breath, sure he was going to kill her on the spot. I wished to come between them, but my heart has never held much courage and I was but a small and skinny child.
His voice dropped. "Let me tell you a story then, if you will not answer me. I met a man drinking his woes away in one of those sordid outposts that pepper the border. A blotchy little man with whiskers and yellow eyes, full of tales and drink."
The Lady tried to take a step back, but the young man held her fast. "He spoke of a ship once white and powerful, flying under the light of a thousand stars and bound for a very long journey home. A ship with a woman at its helm, a captain with hair of sunset and a voice like the deeps of the sea. And always at her side was her first officer, tall and strong, hair as black as night and markings on the side of his forehead."
The Prince tensed his jaw. "That little man spoke of the alien ship, wounded beyond repair, which had crossed the border two decades prior, while venting plasma and precious air. Its captain was gone, its first officer dead, its senior officers decimated. The surviving crew mourned them, before selling the ship to scrap traders. They scattered among the nearby systems. The man said he never saw any of them again as he took up his old trading habits and roamed the border."
The Lady's face had lost all colour. If it had not been for his grip on her, she would have collapsed at his feet.
"He said he knew who I was the minute I set foot in the inn. That I was taller maybe and had a lighter skin, but I had my father's eyes and the same smile. I hit that puny excuse of a man square on the mouth and told him I was the Prime's beloved son, Prince of the realm, heir to the House. The hairy man just chuckled, as if we were sharing a joke. Hasn't your mother told you about him? he smiled. He even drew the markings he had talked about, a tattoo he called it."
Even from where I huddled, I could see great shudders going through the Lady as the young man ripped her long sleeve, thrusting thin pale scars on the inside of her left wrist into the blades of light rushing through the window louvres.
The young man loomed over the Lady, his face in shadows as he tore at her dress. "How long before you had forsaken your ship, your crew and your first officer for a life of wealth and riches?" Buttons, pearls and ribbons fell like snow around her. "How long, Mother, before you bent over for another's pleasure and sold him your body and soul," her son continued, ripping through her.
Layer by layer, her clothes dropped at her feet, leaving her bare. "How long before you forgot your one-time lover and pushed the name of my father into oblivion?" the Lady's son snarled, his hand to her neck.
"Chakotay," she said, and it was like hearing waves crushing over jagged rocks. "Your father's name was Chakotay, and he was my husband."
Her voice held hints of a foreign tongue that was unknown among the palace crowd, and I knew that instant she was indeed whom her son claimed her to be. I gasped but neither of them heard my pitiful cry of surprise.
The Prince released his grip and watched her, his eyes wide. "Chakotay," he whispered, and then he was gone, soldiers rallying his small company behind him as he stormed out.
The Lady dropped to the floor not bothering to hide her naked body from me. I threw my arms around her neck, and she held me while I sobbed, not knowing what drew those tears out of me. Or maybe, as young as I was then, my heart foresaw what was to come.
After a few minutes, she got up and slid the heavy dress back on her shoulders.
Bruises and cuts adorned her skin where the Prince had wrenched the tight clothing from her, but she ignored them. Instead, she quickly gathered sparkling necklaces and heavy brooches from the top of the vanity and rummaged the drawers for precious stones. She put it all into a purse which she secured to her belt. Sliding her fingers underneath the vanity top, she picked a phaser from a secret compartment and checked its charge before hiding it into a fold of her dress.
Shots and explosions erupted from the East wing, and the garden soon filled with lost and bewildered palace servants. The Lady showed them the entrance to an underground passage which weaved its way under the palace walls. She freed them from their lifetime contracts in the House service with a few kind words which left them dumbstruck, and gave her jewellery away as compensation for the abrupt end of their indenture. The Prime's loyal servants hurried in the tunnel towards a future as dark and murky, leaving us alone.