The Far Bank of the Rubicon (The Pax Imperium Wars: Volume 1) (8 page)

Despite her attire and the confidence she displayed, Sophia Malek stayed relatively close to her mother. To his trained eye, she seemed somewhat overawed by the palace, glancing up at it from time to time.

The way she carried herself, and her simple light blue dress, gave Jonas the impression she still felt more comfortable navigating the world as an adolescent, rather than as an adult. He found this intriguing, as it stood in contrast to so many of the eighteen-year-old courtiers he was forced to deal with on a regular basis. “The regulars,” as he and his brother referred to them, irritated him. They wanted something from him, and they pushed. He had little patience for that.

As Sophia followed her family through the receiving line, he found himself looking at a complex person not easy to categorize. Her body may not have fully matured, but her manner and expressions exuded liquid grace. This was no petty noble’s daughter, who practiced curtsies in the mirror of her middle-class home. Here was someone else who had spent her life at court. She smiled when she should and spoke on her own. She reminded him of himself, poised at the precipice of adulthood, already plunging ahead in many ways, and in others, still in the frost of childhood. For once Jonas felt the tables turn. He waited in anticipation for his introduction.

In a moment or two, Jonas greeted Duke Malek, his wife, and their middle son Mark. Finally, Sophia stood before him. Lithe and beautiful, Sophia curtsied and bowed her head as she was introduced by her father. Jonas tipped his head slightly in return—a perfect ritual to please the Duke and the King and, more importantly, the assembled media.

The introductions continued with the Crown Prince and finally the King himself. Once completed, they were scheduled to process into the palace where drinks and hors d'oeuvres would be served in front of the cameras.

The King took the Duchess by the arm, and the procession began. Dorothea followed, walking next to the Duke. The Crown Prince came next with Mark, then Jonas and Sophia. Jonas held out his arm, which Sophia took with a smile. He was somewhat surprised to feel her trembling. Although most of the young women he escorted trembled, he hadn't anticipated that from Sophia.

Usually, Jonas didn't give it a second thought. He would do exactly what all his family did in similar situations. He would work hard to put his escort at ease without investing anything of himself in the effort. By the age of sixteen, Jonas had a whole realm of banal conversation at his disposal meant to humanize him and relax his charge. None of it required any commitment or effort. However, tonight was different. He found himself a little disappointed by Sophia’s nervousness. He had hoped that for once he might have a companion who could see him as just another kid.

Pretending to point out a portrait of
Ephriam Papadros
, one of his ancestors, he leaned close and said, “I understand. I used to get so nervous when I had to do one of those receiving lines.” Sophia didn't speak but simply continued to smile, and while her hand seemed to tremble somewhat less on Jonas' arm, her grip tightened considerably.

Jonas realized she was too terrified to speak, and he began to worry that she might pass out in front of the court. He had seen it happen a couple of times. It was frightening to watch, as the body convulsed slightly. Then there was the aftermath. The media loved nothing better than to show members of the court or royal house in compromising positions. For his part, he had wished that some of his previous escorts had passed out. It would have been poetic justice for their fawning behavior, but not tonight. He didn't want that to happen this evening.

Jonas kept up a steady stream of his own conversation while they paraded to their destination. Once there, he quietly found them chairs in a far corner of the room, buried near the large mantel of the fireplace. The media gathered behind the red velvet ropes at the other end and holographed every smile and gesture they could. The room was intentionally small for the 150 members of the court who had been invited, and the air space was restricted for media cameras. The density and camera restrictions allowed Jonas and Sophia to hide for a moment.

Once she got seated, Sophia started to relax. A moment later she finally was able to speak. “I’m sorry. I’m so embarrassed.”

Jonas tried to be reassuring. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not so unusual. Most people can’t hide it like you did. No one will know.”

She tried to smile through cheeks the color of a beet. “Could I impose on you to get me a glass of water?” The look she gave Jonas hinted that he had been remiss in not thinking of this first.

Jonas was shocked. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had asked him to do something for them. He felt like a cad for not offering. “Of course.”

He walked away, surprised to realize how much he appreciated someone who didn’t kowtow to his title.

Jonas returned momentarily with two glasses of mineral water and lemon.

After sitting for a moment and taking a few sips, Sophia was finally able to say “Thank you.”

“Don't mention it. I don’t think anyone ever gets completely used to court life, and you really have to watch what you say. The microphones on the press cameras are powerful, but it does get better.”

Sophia took a deep, calming breath. “I know. It’s the same where I come from. I just didn't expect the palace to be so large. We have nothing like this on my home planet.”

“Yes, it’s a bit ridiculous, isn’t it? Most of it never gets used and there are parts of it which I have never seen. But it serves its purpose—to impress people and display the King's power to the Empire. I tell you what, why don't we have a look around after dinner? I can take you on a tour of the palace. Does that sound interesting?”

“Yes, I would like that,” Sophia responded firmly, and then a sudden twinkle came into her eye. She asked, “Can we see the room with the wooden desk from old Earth that the ancient American presidents used to use?”

Jonas laughed. “Yes, of course. Though we save that for the tourists. My father doesn’t use it that often, usually only when the cameras are watching.”

Sophia blushed lightly. “Oh… I thought… well, I just completed a unit on ancient history and thought it might be fun to see. I guess I am a bit of a tourist on this trip.”

“That’s all right. I’d be asking to see a Sadarian fort on Mt. Gauss, if I came to your home. I’d be happy to show you.”

He stood and nodded his head in the direction of the media. Holding out his hand, he said, “ They will go away soon, and then we can both be more ourselves. Until then, we ought to mingle, or we are going to attract unwanted attention. We wouldn't want Laura Boyle writing tomorrow about how you failed your palace debut. Can you stand?”

Sophia nodded. “Yes, I can.”

For the next twenty minutes, Jonas guided his charge around the room, leading her through one banal conversation after another. All the while Sophia relaxed, even making him laugh once or twice. Jonas found himself believing, in spite of himself, that his weekend might end up being enjoyable.

Eventually, he brought her to Aunt Dora and Charles Howard, the King's Prime Minister. They all had a polite conversation about Sophia’s music lessons. Jonas noticed that the Chancellor had been spending a great deal of time with Auntie Dora, and he made a mental note to tease her mercilessly.

Sophia handled herself well throughout it all, without any trembling, but she continued to stay quite close to Jonas and, on a couple of occasions, used his arm to steady herself. It was expertly done and the media were none the wiser. Dora made eye contact with Jonas momentarily. He nodded ever so slightly to the cameras and the lights in the corner. The Princess excused herself and spoke to the King's private secretary Hughes. Five long minutes later, the media were escorted from the room.

Sophia visibly relaxed when the door closed, and she became noticeably more talkative. She and the King had a long conversation about their shared preferences for the Samoan Camel, instead of the traditional Earth horse used by the aristocracy. Jonas' trained eye saw that the King took a genuine interest. Sophia gracefully exited, and the King gave Jonas a quick smile of approval. Jonas let his eyes sparkle just for a moment, so only his father could see.

A few minutes later, Jonas' father welcomed Duke Malek and his family with a short speech that served as the cue for the beginning of dinner. Without hesitation or thought, Jonas offered Sophia his arm and began to edge through the crowded room toward the King. Leaning over, he whispered, “We are supposed to be near the front when we go to dinner.” With a sheepish grin, he continued, “Besides, you will miss some of what is coming if you are at the back.”

When finished, the King led the party into the nearby throne room to a set of ornately carved doors inlaid with silver. As he approached, two attendants pulled the doors inward. Instantly, the smells of growth and a warm spring evening entered. Standing close behind the King, Jonas breathed the cooling air and then absorbed the delicate splashing sounds of water on pebbles.

Following the King, they stepped out onto a small terrace of stone with a half-flight of stairs on the right. A waterfall cascaded from the upper garden a story above. It fell in a clear, thin sheet, surrounding the guests in a veil of water and screening their view of Grandfather's Terrace. The King's traditional ritual upon entering the rooftop garden gave little time for his guests to enjoy the water’s music. He walked briskly down the half flight of stairs which descended behind it to the garden below. Jonas, Sophia, and other dignitaries followed him. Finally, at the bottom of the stairs, the visitors emerged from behind the thin sheet of water, and Grandfather's Terrace revealed its glory to the King's guests. The King stopped on the dais at the bottom of the stairs, turned toward the garden, and took three or four loud, ritual breaths of the evening air.

Standing close by the King, Sophia and Jonas were able to take in the garden, while those further behind were screened by the waterfall. Sophia whispered, “Oh, my. Wow! It actually lives up to its descriptions.”

Jonas smiled.

Considered one of the wonders of the human universe, the beauty of the garden had led to its declaration as an Imperial Legacy Point by the Empire. On most days, the garden overflowed with tourists, but when he could, Jonas spent his free time contemplating the orange and lemon trees which surrounded the center of the garden. He loved to watch each tree develop new branches and growth in the Spring. Even today, the late Spring-early Summer breeze brought the delicate scent of orange blossoms and growing earth, combined with the soft wetness of the waterfall. It was a smell which always produced a sense of promise and hope in Jonas. Yet, despite the orange blossom's solicitation, tonight Jonas only had eyes for the masterpiece, a two-hundred-year-old olive tree in full bloom with tables spread out underneath. Here the King's party would receive their dinner.

Mercifully, the four adolescents were not seated at the main table. Stephen led their party to a smaller terrace below on the other side of the olive tree. Here there was a table set for the four of them. The adults soon engrossed themselves in conversation, leaving Jonas and the others to entertain each other. Half-way through the second course, Jonas had laughed more than he had at any other state meal. Toward the end of dessert, he caught his father looking down at them, smiling.

When the meal finished, Stephen piped up, “This is about the only free time we’ll have together this whole weekend, so we ought to use it well. I was going to take Mark out to the archery range. Are you two interested in joining us?

Sophia looked at Jonas with a decidedly noncommittal look.

Jonas intervened. “I was going to give Sophia a tour of the palace.”

Jonas saw Stephen’s eyes narrow ever so slightly and sparkle with amusement. His brother would make his life hell for this later, but Jonas refused to be deterred.

Stephen turned to Sophia and spoke to her. “It’s quite all right if you would like to do that. My brother knows this palace better than anyone. Ask him about getting dusted with flour in one of the larders when he was eight.” Stephen winked at her.

Sophia laughed. “I will do that. I would like to look around if it’s not a problem with His Highness.”

Stephen shrugged and smiled. “Suit yourself.” He and Mark stood and left the table.

Jonas turned to Sophia, “Let's get one thing straight. Unless we are in an 'on stage' kind of place, you don't ever have to call me 'Your Highness' again. Please call me Jonas. It’s much better. Now where do you want to start?”

She looked out over the gardens which lay two stories below Grandfather's Terrace. “The sun is just setting. There is such a beautiful light on this planet. It is like the sky is blushing. I hate to go inside until it is gone. Would you show me the gardens?”

The suggestion pleased Jonas so much. It was exactly what he would have said in her place. Jonas smiled, took Sophia by the arm, and led her down the stairs.

Late that evening, Jonas found himself yawning as he laid his dress uniform on a chair in the dressing room he shared with Stephen. The room, which lay between their two bedrooms, allowed the staff to lay out the clothing which had been chosen for them. By morning, the clothing he removed would be cleaned, pressed, and neatly placed back in his closet. The door to his brother's room swung open, and Stephen entered. He was unbuttoning the collar on his shirt, which was only half tucked in at this point. “Well, little brother, you seemed to enjoy yourself this evening. Did you kiss her?” Stephen asked with a smirk.

Jonas' cheeks instantly turned a deep shade of maroon, partly from irritation and partly from embarrassment. “You know the answer to that,” he shot back calmly as he continued to undress. Jonas was determined not to let Stephen needle him. It wasn't as if Stephen hadn't asked him this question before. He always asked when Jonas escorted one of the annoying flirts from the court. Yet, tonight it bothered Jonas. Jonas figured that a flirt deserved what she got, but Sophia was different, not a flirt.