XXX

Kickoff to the Queen's Jubilee

The hall clock chimed nine as Rathbone sat quietly in his room. Standing, he fastened the breast buttons of his uniform and stepped to his bed. His belt and saber lay ready. Unsheathing the blade, he overlooked it one last time. He'd sharpened it only once since its last ceremonial use… and that time was three hours ago. Turning his eyes to the mantel clock, he sighed, counting the three hours he had left. Gripping the saber in hand, he tested its weight before raising the blade and pressed it flat to his forehead.

Sheathing it, he clasped the belt around his waist and adjusted the crimson sash over his left shoulder. Try as he might to comb his hair to a respectable flatness, it refused. Finally he tossed the comb down and rolled his eyes. He was fiddling with pointless things in an effort to pass the torturous moments of waiting.

He paced the floor, boots muffled as he meditated, luring himself to a place where miracles happened. The clock chimed again.

By the eighth chime he was tearing down the hall, a convincing smile upon his face as he met with the maid downstairs.

"Your carriage is ready, sir." She curtsied.

Nodding shortly, he moved to the door, where Miles opened it for him, following him out to properly see him to the carriage. Stepping into the carriage, he called back to his butler, "Enjoy the firework display Miles. There's much effort to be appreciated there."

Miles smiled in return and nodded, "I shall sir! Have a splendid evening!" The driver's whip snapped over the horses' heads. They started off, and Rathbone sank into the pit of the carriage, tucking himself into the shadow for a last moment of silence. He would meet Victoria and join her in her carriage, accompany her on the way to the Thames… he would be face to face with the very woman he was betraying most of all, and he prayed she would not see through his guise.

Buckingham Palace was alive with foreign members of high esteem coming to pay the Queen their respects and admiration. Stepping from his coach, he walked into the palace, announced and shown into a crowd full of glimmering gowns and decorated uniforms. So many faces, some new, some familiar… his head was swimming, and he paid them all an equal amount of polite time before he was finally called away.

The Scottish coach waited, drawn by six plumed horses. The gown inside waited patiently for his arrival. During a steadying breath he politely crawled inside, sitting across from the occupant. The Queen herself smiled, eager to see her favorite cousin once more.

He smiled in return, and the door closed them inside.

"Nelson, I hear you've had much trouble as of late."

The smile pasted to his face was even beginning to fool him. "I regret to admit any truth in that."

"Well," She said with suppressed interest, "Tell me about it on the way."

Bowing his dark head to her, "As you wish, Ma'am."

The carriage glided from the palace among a sea of others, everyone wanting to get a front row view of the fireworks to kick start the Queen's Jubilee. Rathbone relayed the events of Lin's attack quite vaguely, stretching out the tale as long as he could until he was forced to continue it to the Jubilee Ball fiasco. Still, she quietly chuckled and gave a show of mild surprise as much as her status could afford to show. Although she had always been well informed, she always did prefer to listen to it first hand.

"We shall discuss this later in detail. I'm quite eager to ask you a few things." The carriage gently stopped, barely bobbing as the footman hopped off to open the door for the pair of them. The Queen exited first, her peacock gown swishing over the carpet as she turned to pay her adoring Londoners a kind smile.

Rathbone held his breath and stepped out into the warm summer night. He nodded respectfully to the passersby's, esteemed members making their way to the balcony. Smiling nervously as he followed the flow of the crowd, struggling to keep the smile pasted to his face.

His eyes trailed upward, catching the clock tower, a spire above into the night sky. Its face glowed a sickening yellow over the vertical flags that billowed in the night breeze. Turning with the crowd, the tower was lost behind the striped canopy that tented the balcony.

Rows of tall chairs lined against the decorated balcony. A canopy, matching the barges across the water, swayed in the gentle breeze over the Thames. Rathbone lurked behind the seats, noting who sat where. Sure as fate would have it, all nine of the royal members had arrived. Princes and Princesses all mingling politely to one another, content among their Black Watch who stood so protectively at the back wall.

Rathbone felt ill as he looked from their faces to the barges over the river. All the canvases remained closed…he knew they would not open until the fireworks would start. Slowly he turned his eyes skyward, knowing somewhere beyond the curtain, beyond the jagged edges of Parliament there was the face of the London clock tower…and it would chime soon enough.

Lin's eyes were wide. She'd been shaking since they set her down inside the ship. Gagged and bound, she remained helpless, a boxer always at her back to guard her. Wu Chow stepped inside, stalking close beside her as he walked to stand before her. A finger brushed against her cheek as he reconsidered his deal with Rathbone.

"You have grown up." He noted in their native tongue.

She pulled her face from him and glared.

Wu Chow grinned again before he turned his attention to Lieu, "When the fireworks start, slit her throat and leave her by the gun."

Lin's breaths quickened through the sash over her mouth. She could no longer think of anything else…waiting for the sound of chiming, the cue.