Chapter Five
The council chambers of the Outer Zone, which monopolized the topmost portion of the highest tower in Central City Palace, rivaled even the Monarch's seat for its massive size and impressive architecture. The great oval space was cavernous, like a giant cathedral, and instead of pews, rows of oaken desks were arranged in a giant semi-circle, giving credence only to a raised platform where six seats sat reserved for an important few. The seat in the center of this group was the highest of them all, which was where the Queen sat when called upon. All others were saved for council leadership and their seconds, as well as one ceremonial seat for the high priestess of the Temple of Ozma, who was rarely, if ever at all, in attendance. Behind this select group, a trio of arched stained glass towered over the scene. The central mosaic was devoted to the crest of the OZ, which although shield-like in shape, was also a stylized representation of the outline of the country itself, and each of the four major counties were shown in their traditional colors of red, blue, green, and purple, with a center of emerald representing Central City itself. The other two central windows were much plainer than the central pane and were inlaid simply with the initials of the Outer Zone emblazoned in gold and seated in a field of green. These along with the other smaller windows along the other two sides of the long room completed the ovoid shape. These smaller windows, which spewed large swaths of natural light into the space, were all joined by equally massive columns of stark white marble, which when brought together overhead, formed a lattice of stone not unlike the facets of a gem. This sight was encased on three sides by a raised viewing gallery, where members of society might view the proceedings of their most revered institution since it was first established by Queen Dorothy I. In all, it truly was an awe-inspiring space, and nearly overwhelming too, when filled to the hilt as it was that first day of the special session, with over a hundred agents of the government, as well as another fifty or so of the commonwealth, all clambering to take part in the historical moment unfolding before them.
From DG's place in the gallery, she could see her mother clearly, seated on her dais and surrounded by the other council leadership. Ambrose sat to her right and was joined by another advisor judging by the woman's matching brown coat. To the Queen's left, two severe looking council members sat. Both were encased in court coats similar to Ambrose and his female cohort, except theirs were as black as midnight, and this shade was offset by silver buttons and scroll work, where Ambrose's was golden like the sun. To the left of this man and woman, a smaller woman sat, almost apart from them, if only for her manner, quiet and regal in her green cloak, like a mirror of the queen except for her much smaller stature. There was something so familiar about the woman, whose pale face and black hair seemed to work as a spotlight on her delicate face, placing her in an unnatural soft light. DG thought of what Cain had said about the Ozmanian priestesses before, and she wondered at this woman's involvement in today's proceedings; something important was sure to happen here that would affect not just the OZ, but her family as well, she decided quietly, and craned her neck a bit more to get a glimpse of the other players gathering on the stage below. It was a sea of brown and black, making the task of finding the Queen's cabinet all the more easy for their lack of uniform appearance. She'd only just found Wyatt, sitting below among the other cabinet members when the opening statements began, and only just glimpsed a twinkle of his eyes on hers before they both turned their attention to the dais.
A voice, without any amplification, could be easily heard in this place. Sound bounced so effectively from its stone that a whisper could even be heard, so when the council members raised their voices, it was like a cacophony on the ear. It had all started well enough though, with the Queen calling the opening of the special session, her voice pleasant and lilting like a choir leader. When the speaker arose, however, it was another matter altogether, for his large physical presence was only matched by his deep, rumbling voice when he began making opening remarks.
"I must remind you all, before we begin, why we are all here, when so many would be making their way home for the summer." The speaker began, his voice deep and booming like a thunderstorm as he spoke. "It is that very way of life that has just been restored to us all that may be in jeopardy once more if this body cannot come together. The events within Munchkin County – the mysterious illnesses, the raids to our farming community, and the longcoat sightings – if left unchecked, will not be isolated for long. Today, you will hear from several different voices who will tell you, in their own words, the challenges we are facing, and after which, the body will hear from several expert testimonies that will further shed light on what is being addressed by this special session. At the close of these testimonies, the body will allow for a number of motions to be brought to the floor for a vote."
The speaker leaned forward on the desk before him, and DG imagined that his knuckles were white from the strain of taking the man's weight when he spoke again, this time dangerous and serious as a grave. "I will remind you all now, that attendance of all the legislative representatives is compulsory, and you should all expect to remain until you have been dismissed by this body. With that I will open the floor to the representatives, and each will have the standard allotment of time to make their case. There will be additional time given for rebuttal and response for each speaker, at which time, the speaker will be asked to yield the floor. With that, this special session of the Ozian Council is called to order."
With that, the speaker slammed a massive, wooden mallet onto a stone plate sitting in the center of his desk, which sounded like a thunderclap for the way its smack cut the air. DG could not help but jump from the shock of such a sound, which was akin to a gunshot and made all in attendance sit up extra straight. First, the Central City representative had spoken, and at his most impassioned, he still sounded like a drowsy school-teacher, lecturing his students on the economics of the OZ. His concern was valid, however, and centered primarily on trade throughout the realms. The raids within Munchkin County had resulted in fewer products reaching market. This, in turn, had driven up prices for most other goods, and with it, apprehension amongst economists struggling to balance the delicate pocket-book of the people.
The next representative was a gruff-looking man that, while short in stature, loomed large for his personality. This was the counselor for the Mining Guild, and his booming voice seemed reminiscent of the dynamite used in the mines of the black hills to the south. He'd said little beyond heresy, claiming that there had been several mysterious disappearances of young men in the moratanium mines once used by the Sorceress. Despite his lack of evidence, his words were so carefully crafted that they painted a troubling picture for those in attendance, and even the Queen was visibly concerned by his claims. The rest of his tale seemed to betray him, however, and when he began spouting wild conspiracy theories about the return of the Sorceress, he was quickly reprimanded and asked to yield the floor.
It only became more interesting when the Gillikins both arose, hours into the session, demanding to be heard. These rugged types from the north were said to be as clear eyed as Cain but with a shade of lavender similar to the Queen's rather than crystalline blue, and as regal and imposing as the mountains they hailed from, in their towering and striking appearance. Their sharp, quick manner of speech was jarring too, and a few counselors seemed almost uncomfortable for their general proximity. They did not mince words, and they did not tell stories. Rather, a list of dates was quickly provided, and the lead representative; a tall, clear eyed man with broad shoulders and a sculpted beard, explained. This list represented appearances documented by the Munchkin County of men in long, black coats reminiscent of the Sorceress' Longcoats crossing the southern border between Munchkin and Gillikin Counties in the past annual. It was a remote region, just south of the Emerald Mines, and far removed from the farms of Munchkin County, and there were few settlements to warrant such appearances. Their sightings had been few in number, but enough to justify further investigation. The largest obstacle had been getting scouts into the area before they were gone again, with nary a trace beyond the Munchkin County's security service, which patrolled the other side of the border with an air of disdain for the rough Gillikin Royal Rangers assigned to the task. When description of this security service was mentioned by the Gillikin delegate, his tone was laced with insinuation, and even DG could see from her height that as he issued his speech, his eyes scanned the other delegates slowly and only stopped on Lord Palmeroy, where his gaze became particularly icy and hard.
"I am certain," the Gillikin man implied strongly, "that Lord Palmeroy's private security firm does an adequate job protecting the Lord on his travels, but I have to ask this council if the Lord expects the rest of us to accept their presence in lieu of Tin Men or her Majesty's army, whom we all know are uniformly trained and operate within a reasonable set of parameters consistent with the law. What assurances do we have that this security service employed throughout Munchkin County is not causing more harm than good, or that they aren't, in fact, the source of these reported sightings?"
There was a rumble of general disapproval from the other counselors, and indeed the gallery, and DG gazed downward at the form of Wyatt for some indication of his mindset one way or the other. By all outward appearances, Wyatt was as stoic as ever, but his steady gaze on the back of Lord Palmeroy's head spoke volumes, and DG was certain that he and the Gillikin delegate had a similar viewpoint on the matter. DG's study then moved to Lord Palmeroy, as she – like most others present within the session – expected some retort from the man, but he remained silent.
DG's curiosity was burning, and although she wanted more than anything to say something aloud to her sister, sitting beside her, doing so would potentially draw unwanted attention to the pair. Rather, using her light, she projected her thoughts to her sister, sounding hushed within the elder Gale's head. "Why isn't he saying anything to defend himself, Az? I mean, the Gillikin counselor is just about accusing him of harboring Longcoats, isn't he?"
Azkadellia's mouth twitched, and her eyes narrowed by a degree while she considered the potential strategy being played out by the young counselor. "He's letting Lord Runeford's time lapse. That way, he can't corner Lord Palmeroy into saying more than he wants to. This way, he can turn the narrative onto something what he wants to discuss."
DG hadn't honestly been paying much attention to the politics of the OZ, finding it all distasteful at best, but in all honesty, she wished she had now, because she felt almost completely in the dark. "And what would that be Az?" She asked silently, while still watching the young Lord sit smugly below.
"He wants more control, Deeg. This is what it's always been about. For his father, for him. His father wanted very much to marry mother before Daddy came along, and I'm willing to bet that his son would have wanted to court you as well, if it weren't for Wyatt getting in his way. As a matter of fact, I don't think he would have gotten approval for expanding his little security service county-wide if it weren't for Wyatt chasing after you to Kansas. It's a wonder he didn't orchestrate it all himself." Azkadellia answered wordlessly, an arched eyebrow being the only indicator of her general displeasure.
DG could feel the blood drain from her face and her eyes grow wide with the realization; he had orchestrated it all, and she'd fallen for it. Her brain raced through her first annual in the Outer Zone. She'd been green to politics back then, even more so than now, and made no secret of her disdain for court life. In many ways, she'd been ripe for manipulation, and it was a shear miracle that nothing worse had happened. DG's mouth dropped open with this sobering fact, and her eyes were wide on her sister. "You've got to be kidding me," she wordlessly mouthed at her sister, causing Azkadellia to glance in her direction briefly, her eyes sharp and warning.
That small glance was enough, and DG shut her mouth quickly, straightening her overall appearance simultaneously before she returned her sight to the floor below. Only a moment had passed, and still without a word from the lord, which seemed to baffle even the speaker, who leaned forward in his chair and eyed the man skeptically. "Does the senior Counselor from Munchkin County wish to issue a rebuttal to the Gillikin Counselor?" He asked in a suggestive manner.
Lord Palmeroy did not miss a beat, and stood from his chair to reply curtly, "No Speaker, I do not. The Munchkin County delegation will hold their comments for their own allotment of time on the floor."
"Very well," the speaker sighed heavily before turning then to Lord Runeford, "If there are no other rebuttals to be had, do you yield your time on the floor to the next representative, Lord Runeford?"
Lord Runeford was clearly incensed, and DG wondered how he managed to maintain his composure while Lord Palmeroy maintained an arrogant smile in his direction. "I will yield, Speaker," he answered roughly instead, and bowed slightly to the Queen before he resumed his place next to his companion counselor.
"The chair now recognizes the next counselor on the schedule, Lord Palmeroy of Munchkin County," the speaker grumbled with barely maintained composure.
There was a rumble again throughout the gallery and the counselors below, and DG noted her mother sitting a bit straighter for the mention of the Lord's name. Wyatt too seemed to straighten, and she spied other members of the cabinet around him gearing up to write notes, as they'd all retrieved their writing implements from their desks before sitting at the ready to begin their furious scribbling. Always the cop, Wyatt would not give Palmeroy the pleasure of appearing frantic or emotional in any way, so most of his note-taking was done mentally, and his homework done before he ever set foot within the council chambers. His face read of battle-readiness, and DG wondered with a slight smirk if the Lord had any clue that he was already in the General's sights.
"Here we go," Azkadellia sighed within DG's mind.
Having a fair idea of Wyatt's frame of mind, DG could no longer assume that these sessions were some mundane nod to tradition or bureaucratic procedure. Memories of many a chess game with her husband told her that this was in many ways, another form of warfare. Instead of blades, words were the chief method of delivering a blow, and strategy was not played out merely by position on the board but in the manner of one's response to their opponent's moves. DG's respect for Wyatt increased in that moment as a result, and she suddenly endeavored to take a page from his book. When the Lord arose then, and his dark eyes somehow managed to find her, his smile widened, and DG was certain that he was trying somehow to goad her. Instead of offering him the outraged reaction she imagined he desired, she maintained a cool expression not unlike her mother, and held her head high. From her height, this posture put the man at a disadvantage, and he was quick to turn away then, all while clearing his throat in a somewhat uncomfortable manner.
"Mr. Speaker, Your Majesty, members of the Ozian Counsel, I am greatly honored by your ear, and in fact, for this special session, which may have great effect upon my county and the Outer Zone as a whole," Lord Palmeroy began dramatically. "I want to first thank the counselor from the Gillikin delegation, for mention of the Longcoat sightings between our counties this past annual. Although I cannot say anything to his somewhat scurrilous claims, I chose to ignore them before because I understand the reason for them. They hail from the same concern that I have for this nation and for our individual constituents. Fortunately for the Gillikin representative, he has not had to face the challenges that we have experienced in Munchkin County, otherwise he might have also formed and expanded his own security within his borders."
An uncomfortable murmur swept through the crowd, and Lord Palmeroy paused briefly for effect, continuing only once it died down. "Three annuals ago, I approached this body with a request to expand my personal security into a force meant to assist the Tin Men within our county, who currently only patrol our metropolitan areas. Although these men and women do an excellent job elsewhere, and their royal army counterparts are to be commended for their likewise exceptional service, ours is a rural region, with the populace spread out over several leagues. As exceptional as both the Tin Men and Armed forces are, they could not defend my constituents from threats within, and so my own security service took up the call. Unfortunately, however, my own forces are still hampered by this body, and it has resulted in tremendous harm to my people." He then held up an unmarked report over his head, and he continued loudly, "Reports have shown that security continues to problematic in my region and is at least indirectly responsible for raids to the farming community and the related shortages in the supply chain to other counties dependent on our goods. To make matters worse, these raids and shortages have resulted in a healthcare crisis in the southern and northern lake regions of Munchkin County. The entire town of Rush Margins is suffering from lack of resources, and my sources indicate that many people have fallen ill. Neither the crown nor this body has lifted a finger to help them, might I add. Then, to the North, the hospital in Center Munch has reported an influx of confused and severely malnourished young men, deriving primarily from the farmlands just outside the forests of the Eastern Guild. Both of these cases represent a major failing in our infrastructure, and I demand that something be done soon. If not addressed soon, counselors, the lack of appropriate action could result in dire consequences for the entire OZ."
Where there had been an uncomfortable murmur before, there was now a growing rumble moving through the chamber, and this was accompanied by many an angry face. Lord Palmeroy had casually thrown out several accusations in that one sweeping monologue, not only attacking the monarchy, but every other established institution within the Outer Zone. Besides that, he had clearly patronized the proud Gillikin counselors, and suggested that the council itself was ineffective. It was a wonder that no one charged the man where he stood, but as it was, the smallest member of the council sprang from his seat and pointed his finger directly at Lord Palmeroy.
"This man's words are meant to deceive!" Red Hat proclaimed angrily, "these starving farmers he speaks of are nothing of the kind. Almost all were found wandering either within or just outside the Eastern Guild, and many appeared not long after a travel storm dissipated. Why does he not speak of this when so few can perform such trickery? I say he is hiding something!"
The low rumble turned into a roar, and several other council members jumped from their seats, each shouting with such equal fervor that none could truly be heard above the rancorous din. For all the commotion caused by the sudden outburst of the legislature, no one besides DG and Azkadellia seemed to notice that both the Queen and the Ozmanian Priestess visibly bristled at the mention of a travel storm, and DG felt suddenly on the spot when her mother's eyes seemed to bore through her. Her mother didn't need words to ask the question that was written on her face, and DG and Azkadellia both shook their head minutely, as if to indicate that they'd had nothing to do with the sightings. Meanwhile, the noise had become so booming that DG nearly covered her ears, except the sound of the gavel struck the air, and all were suddenly silent.
"Order," bellowed the speaker, himself now standing and red in face with anger, "we will have order here!"
When the other council members resumed their positions, leaving only Red Hat and Lord Palmeroy standing, the speaker sat down with a weary sigh. "I must warn you, Red Hat, to keep your rebuttal within acceptable terms. There will be no more heresy or inflammatory speech. Now, is there anything more you would like to add before Lord Palmeroy is allowed an answer?"
Although Red Hat wore the same garb as the other counselors, his face was still red with the face paint of the Eastern Guild, and his expression just as proud. It was understandable then that he would puff his chest out before he replied in a respectful, but haughty manner. "I apologize, Your Majesty, Lord Speaker, for my tone." He bowed in deference to both the Speaker and the Queen and added firmly, "but such omissions are a great insult to this body. What's more, I do have one further rebuttal."
"Very well, Red Hat, please continue, but make it brief," the speaker replied skeptically, waving the munchkin on with a weary expression on his face.
Red Hat nodded his head in appreciation briefly before he turned once more to his colleagues and took a sharp intake of air before he spoke. "Although I agree with Lord Palmeroy that security is a grave issue within Munchkin County, I cannot disagree with him more as to the cause. We have had more dealings with the Lord's security service of late, and none of these encounters have been friendly. Not once have we seen or heard of Longcoats near our borders, and never have we had any negative experiences with either the army or Tin Men when they have visited. The true threat seems to be from Munchkin County Security rather than any Longcoats."
Red Hat sat down, signaling that his rebuttal was at an end. The massive chambers were silent in that moment, and DG held her breath, feeling almost certain that she'd be heard the moment she resumed. Lord Palmeroy seemed almost frozen for a moment as well, except his expression was cool and calculating where others around him wore expressions ranging from apprehension to disdain.
"I am afraid," Lord Palmeroy replied quietly, "that I am at a loss for the words needed to express my apologies to Red Hat and the other members of the Eastern Guild." He paused to let his eyes search the faces in the gallery, and he continued in an almost casual way, "You see, as I've stated, Munchkin Security is still in its fledgling annuals, and without more funding from this body, training has been reduced to absolute necessity. I am afraid, Red Hat, that decorum seems to also have been lacking in the patrols your people have encountered. I would like to think that you might say the same to me, in the event that someone unsuspecting Munchkin resident other than your known friends wanders into your territory. Or have you stopped employing basket accommodations for your unexpected guests?"
There were a few snickers in the crowd and Lord Palmeroy allowed himself a satisfied smirk, which he flashed to DG momentarily before he returned to face the speaker. "But I do not wish to anger my dear colleague and neighbor any more than I already have, Lord Speaker, so I yield the floor."
The Speaker looked almost drained, and it was in that moment of his hesitation to speak that DG finally realized the time. Somehow, a whole day had nearly passed, and light was now streaming in just behind the speaker as he looked down on his notes, framing him in the brilliant shades of green, blue, red and purple that made up the window behind him. Almost as if this light had somehow bolstered the man, he took a long, deep breath, and looked up to face the legislature as a father might his children.
"As there are apparently no other speakers slated for today, I would like to give our panel of experts ample time to prepare for their testimonies tomorrow. I do then hereby call this session to recess. We will resume tomorrow morning at eight o'clock. Dismissed."
The gavel once again struck the air, and there was a collective sigh thereafter which was soon paused by the Queen, who stood from her chair and prepared to exit the chamber. Her eyes did not flicker from her path through the chamber, but her voice was clear within her daughter's minds as she swept out. "We will speak in the morning over breakfast. Six a.m. in the library. Please be sure to bring your husbands with you, as there will be much to discuss, and do not be late." she commanded her daughters, just as she disappeared through the massive doors at the back of the chamber.
Azkadellia and DG exchanged an apprehensive glance, and DG bit her lip in thought, almost uncertain of what could possibly warrant her mother's urgency. Lord Palmeroy had landed some blows, to be sure, but such barbs were hardly out of character for politicians, and DG was sure that he was not the true cause of her mother's call to arms. The mention of travel storms had been news to both her and the Ozmanian priestess, for certain, and had caused near panic in both women's expressions, however briefly it had appeared. Then DG looked down, only to find Wyatt looking up in her direction, his own eyes sharp and expectant. He too had much on his mind it seemed and had no need of magic to convey it. DG only needed to nod in his direction to indicate her understanding, and with that, the troubled man followed after the rest of the cabinet, exiting just after the Queen.
DG gave her sister's hand a squeeze and flashed her a weak smile. "I guess we've got a busy day ahead of us tomorrow, Az. Better get some rest while you can," DG projected wordlessly with her light.
Azkadellia expressed a long, audible sigh to this observation, and she returned DG's squeeze with one of her own before she replied vocally, "We'll see you tomorrow then."
With that, DG winked at her sister and departed; wanting to catch up to Wyatt before the crowd swallowed either of them up. It was fortunate for DG that Gates was not far behind her, and when the crowd exiting the gallery might have otherwise narrowed on either side of her, the crushing wave was broken by the giant man, whose arms were like massive road blocks keeping any from getting too close to the princess on either side. It was for that reason that Cain had little trouble finding her at the bottom of the stairs, and he silently saluted the giant behind her before he grasped her hand tightly in his and fell into step with her.
"Hey there, Princess," Wyatt greeted DG as his arm brushed hers, and a hint of a smile glimmered in his otherwise clouded eyes.
DG squeezed his hand and smiled, "Hey yourself, General." Cain seemed to relax somewhat, and pulled her hand up to kiss her knuckles before he placed it on his forearm, completing the move by placing his other hand over hers as they continued to make their way forward.
"Early night?" DG asked tentatively, her eyes searching his face for cues and finding only storm clouds forming.
Wyatt glanced over at his wife and smirked, "You read my mind Dorothy," he replied with a contented and tired sigh. This would be Wyatt's only verbal clue as to his state of mind until they were in a more private place, and the smile that had briefly appeared on his face was removed with that expression of fatigue, and brought on the return of the stony expression once more.
DG knew better than to say a word now, and honestly, she wouldn't have in any case, for there were storm clouds of her own making forming within her mind. To say that the events of the day had been enlightening was an understatement, and the flashes of lightening within her seemed to illuminate enemies and schemes around every turn. Lord Palmeroy had been a surprise, but somehow, she still couldn't believe that he was a real threat. There was something bigger and darker lingering behind this whole conundrum and it seemed like its poisonous tendrils were far-reaching enough to create havoc within even the council chambers. There was something they were missing, she was certain, and whatever it was, it had the Ozmanian priestess worried and her mother troubled enough to want to speak before another session began. That next session would require not only Wyatt's expertise, but Tutor's too, and something told her that the Queen was in want of special knowledge before the council was consulted, perhaps to confirm something she already suspected.
Whatever it was, however, DG knew it would have to wait. Entering their rooms and finding the sun nearly set outside their balcony doors confirmed that the day was nearly done, and another exhausted sigh from Wyatt as he removed his coat said the rest. As they both sat down on the couch, removing their shoes and groaning wearily, Ana rushed in, her arms laden with the small meal DG had ordered before their morning departure. As she bustled about, setting a table for the pair, DG continued to remove her footwear and stockings, and she leaned back on the cushions to eye her maid over the back of the couch.
"Ana," she addressed the young woman, causing Ana to stop and turn to face the princess, "we won't be having breakfast in the apartment tomorrow morning, we'll be meeting with mother instead."
Ana nodded in understanding, and she smoothed her apron as she came forward, and came to a stop just before the sitting area. "Will you just be wanting coffee then, Milady?"
DG nodded and replied with a sigh, "Yeah, I think I'll take an IV of it, if tomorrow will be anything like today." Wyatt scoffed, and Ana showed her lack of understanding with a slight frown, which DG dismissed with resigned shrug, and she added in explanation, "yes, plenty. Sorry. Mother wants us there by six, just so you know, and I don't think she plans on us coming back here before the next session."
Ana nodded her understanding, and while she curtsied and quickly departed, Wyatt let out another uncharacteristically labored groan. Clearly, the man was beat, and the concept of having a summit with his mother-in-law just before being put in the crosshairs of the council set his teeth on edge. DG could only offer him a sympathetic smile as they both continued to undress, and when Wyatt collapsed back onto the couch in only his boxer shorts and undershirt, DG was quick to move to the back side of the couch, where she began to rub his shoulders.
"Oh," Wyatt groaned, "you can keep doing that if you want."
DG only replied with a concentrated frown, knowing that he'd talk when he was ready without her having to say a word. It was only a minute or two more, and Wyatt placed a hand over hers, silently asking her to stop with a pat of his hand.
DG did as she was asked, and came around to sit with him, grumbling sweetly as she did. "I wasn't finished, you know."
Wyatt pulled her feet up into his lap, he explained with a sigh. "I'm sorry Deeg," he explained while he returned her kindness and rubbed the base of her foot with his thumb, "I'm just playing chess in my head."
"I figured," DG grumbled, "who's winning? You or Palmeroy?"
Wyatt sighed, and he rubbed a little harder. "He got in a few good moves when we were both out of the picture a few annuals ago, but I think he's getting cocky. If I'm right, he messed up today, and not just by picking a fight with you."
"You noticed that, huh?" DG scoffed.
Wyatt let out a low chuckle, and he smirked before replying, "Which part? The part where you told him you were watching him in the hallway, or where you put him quite literally in his place in council chambers?"
"You saw that?" DG asked, sounding impressed.
Wyatt grinned. "Yeah, lookin' pretty regal these days, Dorothy. You wear it well. I'm proud of you."
There was a certain kind of warmth in Wyatt's voice when he admitted his pride in DG's personal growth. She had in fact, done a fair amount of developing the past four annuals, and he'd been standing right next to her through it all. She could feel her face grow warm with his appraisal, and a shy smile formed on her face.
"Well, thanks Tin Man," she replied nonchalantly. "You're looking pretty good yourself these days too. I'm impressed that you didn't shoot that smug little demon today."
Wyatt's hands got a bit harder with that comment, and DG stopped to cry out in near-ecstatic bliss. Wyatt smiled with secret satisfaction, and he replied darkly, "Not like it hadn't occurred to me, but seein' that I'm pretty sure he's just a minor player, it wouldn't really serve my purposes."
DG scoffed a little when she replied, "I thought as much too, and I bet we'll find out a little more from Mother tomorrow morning." DG let out a massive yawn as she laid her head back on the cushion, and her eyes shut almost involuntarily.
Wyatt hummed in agreement, and soon found his own head nodding back to fall on the cushions. DG was completely unaware and did not even complain when Wyatt suddenly stopped. It seemed that, in usual form, where they did so much in waking together, so too did they act as one in sleep, and they both breathed deeply from their place on the couch, completely asleep.
When DG next awoke, jumping up into a seated position in bed where she'd somehow arrived while she was unconscious, she scanned the room in a somewhat startled state, uncertain what time it was, or where Wyatt had gone. It was dark and judging by the complete lack of light from the balcony curtains, DG was certain it was close to midnight. Besides this, a stillness hung in the air that seemed to whisper, "go to sleep," in the way it wafted through the room like a faint perfume. To DG, however, this was an invitation to steal some much-needed time from sleep, especially since Cain was nowhere to be found. When she'd fallen asleep, probably hours earlier, she remembered being stretched out on the couch, in nothing but her slip, and Wyatt had been lovingly rubbing her feet. It had been such a sweet release, to not only have his hands on her, pushing out the stiffness from the day, but to be alone with him. Although her intent had been to return the favor, fatigue and relief had done battle with her other urges, until she finally succumbed and fell into a deep slumber. Finding herself in bed later wasn't terribly shocking, knowing Wyatt, but his being absent could only mean one thing; he probably hadn't slept yet.
DG sat up in bed and frowned thoughtfully; she'd known, of course, that Wyatt was troubled when they entered their apartment. In truth, she had been nearly as preoccupied, and this had been why she'd hadn't pushed the issue. It had been a long day, after all, and they'd both had to endure a good deal of talking from the council, so it didn't seem fair to continue the trend into their evening. Clearly though, given the lateness of the hour, Wyatt had enough on his mind that he needed some kind of release, and DG quickly became convinced that she should help.
With this decided, the Princess slid out of bed and padded to the bathroom, wishing to freshen herself up before seeking out the missing Tin Man. After rinsing her mouth and giving herself a quick inspection in the mirror, she gave herself a sleepy smile. She was still wearing just the slip, and her hair was sufficiently tousled without being overly wild; she was just as Wyatt liked her most, and she was nearly certain it would be just what was needed to pull him away from his thoughts.
Knowing Wyatt as she did, locating him wasn't truly a problem. There was generally only one place he'd be so late, assuming he didn't sneak down to the workshop. Fortunately, he'd chosen the former, more convenient location of his office, and DG smirked at the light streaming from the cracked door when she poked her head out of their bedroom. Tip toeing certainly wasn't necessary, considering that the man's finely honed senses had probably already warned him of her arousal, but it hardly mattered to her, and she crept out in that fashion all the same. This made it impossible for her to sneak up on him, and even if she had tried, he'd have seen her the moment she pushed the door open, since his desk faced the door. When she did push it open, and leaned on the frame to inspect him then, a smirk was on her face, and her arms were folded in front of her as if she'd intended to scold him for staying up late.
"Hey there, General, what are you doing up?" She asked casually as she stepped inside.
Wyatt looked up from the report he'd been reading, grasped tightly in his hand, and he smiled ruefully at his wife as she padded in to greet him. Although he looked comfortable enough, in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt, there was a weary look in his eyes that belied his uptight frame of mind. Seeing DG as she was though, so alluringly dressed and with sleep tousled in her long, wild hair, was enough to unravel him somewhat, and he sighed as he dropped the report on the edge of the desk.
"Reviewing a report I issued to your mother and the council about a cycle ago about security issues within the Zone. Thought Palmeroy's reference was a bit too familiar. Seems I was right." Wyatt explained thoughtfully, a grateful smile widening on his face when DG stepped in between him and the large desktop between them.
DG sat herself on the edge of the solid, wooden surface and offered Wyatt a sultry smile in return when Wyatt turned his chair into her, and his hands automatically came to rest on her hips. There was a look of devotion in those eyes now, and she knew, if she just tried a little harder, she could ignite it into something much more searing. Her feet were the first part of her to move next, and she snaked them into place between his rear and the leather of the chair before she began to pull him closer. Wyatt growled then, and her smile only widened.
"I think you could use a break, General." DG replied suggestively, rumbling herself when his hands began to roam to the bare skin of her legs.
Wyatt's eyes were dark, and mischievousness glinted in them when his own smile widened devilishly. "You think so, huh?"
DG watched him closely as he toyed with her, asking her questions with such false innocence while his hands told a different story. She could not help but bite her lip when he smirked at her briefly then, knowing that his hands were on a route to spread her open. She could feel the anticipation building her groin, and she wondered absently if Wyatt could take her pulse there for the throbbing that increased with every stroke of his fingers on her skin. She could not hold her excitement, and it was impossible to stay still, so she let out the faintest of gasps when he silently ordered her to put her feet on the arms of his chair before he bowed his head to taste her. DG was already overcome with that first kiss, searing and hungry on her body like he was dying of thirst, and she laid back on the surface of the desk, panting already from the feelings washing over her.
Wyatt's hungry growl reverberated through her core, and his mouth and tongue sucking and lapping at her worked in concert with each other, bringing her closer to a breathtaking peak. Wyatt had to hold her hips to the desk to keep her from levitating and she was nearly senseless when Wyatt finally tasted her release that was both sweet and savory on his lips.
Wyatt sat back to watch DG now, panting and completely undone before him on the desk. Her legs were still spread, and nearly boneless for what he'd just done to her, and her body shook as she struggled to come down. It was a beautiful sight, really, that could only be outdone by a view of her body beneath the thin white silk that still covered her from the hips to her bosom. The hint of her puckered breasts under that thin fabric, heaving right now for want of air, was not enough for Wyatt, and with another hungry growl, he stood from his seat and pulled Dorothy up to a sitting position. Dorothy's blue eyes were hazed over and her lips were parted and gasping for breath when he pulled her up, and she hardly had a moment to breathe before Wyatt was pulling the slip over her head and bringing his mouth crashing down onto hers the moment the slip hit the floor.
Although there was no need to rush now, being wholly alone and with nowhere else to be, being given the opportunity to so fully abandon their cares made them both quicken their pace somewhat from shear excitement. Both were panting with adrenaline then when they parted to breathe and moved as if in a feverish trance to remove the last articles of fabric that separated them from being fully entwined with the other. DG nearly ripped the t-shirt from Wyatt's body, and it soon joined the slip in an ever-growing pile at Wyatt's feet. This was not enough, however, and DG wined nonverbally for Wyatt to remove his shorts as well, her hands sliding under the waistband and making him hiss when her nails on his sensitive region threatened to make him laugh. With DG's soft skin pressed against his, however, there was no reason to argue, and he longed to have her closer still, and drive all other thought from his mind, and tension from his body.
Removing his shorts was a seamless process and done so quickly that DG gasped in surprise when he suddenly pushed within her, stretching her out to a breaking point almost instantly. This sensation, both hot and aching made DG clutch Wyatt's body to hers even more tightly, as if she might come apart at any moment. Gasps were intermingled with hot kisses on the other, and both grunted and moaned like wild animals giving themselves over to the moon. The wildness of the sounds issuing from them was only matched by their movements, hard and fast, yet smooth and sensual in how each thrust seemed to make them both cry out in utter abandon.
DG could not hold on any longer, and she felt as if she was becoming separate from her body as Wyatt repeatedly struck that bundle of nerves with her core. The urge to lay back and submit to him was too strong, and she felt such utter bliss that she thought she could die there, watching Wyatt's muscular body thrust and flex above her while he brought her closer to some ethereal form of existence. When she did lay back on that desktop, Wyatt's hands ran down her chest almost as if he was marking her, and he only stopped his trip to anchor their bodies together at her hips, which allowed him thrust even harder so he might make her cry out once again. She did, and it was so bright and melodic that it brought her eyes open once more to look on him, holding him in a soft, loving gaze while he came ever closer to his own climax. Her eyes, hooded and warm on his, struck a chord deep within him making his chest feel suddenly larger, and he thrust forward once more with a hoarse shout escaping him, before he collapsed inside her with a relieved groan.
Despite his arms feeling heavy and tight, Wyatt still pulled his wife back up, and let one of his limbs drape lazily around her waist while he grasped her head in his other hand to bring her lips to his. When their lips met in a breathless kiss, they both hummed into each other as if they'd just had the most satisfying meal, and a soft smile played in the hazed blues of DG's eyes when they flashed on Wyatt's. Wyatt took no pains to hide his own happiness and grinned like a kid at DG while simultaneously grasping her damp body to his and leaving kisses on her neck and shoulder all the while.
"Did that help get your mind off things?" DG asked lazily while she stretched her neck out for the man, still feeding on her, but now playfully and absently in the warmth of their afterglow. "Maybe we can both get some rest now."
Wyatt only answered with a disapproving hum, sounding like "Uh-uh" on her neck, and he finished this vague vocalization by lifting his wife into his arms and marching them across the room.
"Wyatt!" DG gasped in surprise while her arms snaked around his neck to keep from falling, "where are you taking us?"
Wyatt was already walking them out the door, and there was a soft chuckle on his breath when DG gasped. "To bed, Princess," was all he said, and he pushed the bedroom door closed behind them with a firm push from his foot, while DG sighed in false and yet somehow hopeful resignation.