The Summer Palace
Cambridge
Victor had only ever been to the summer palace once in his life, it was may years ago when his brother, Alfred, had come to call on his friend the lord chamberlain, Victor had spent most of that day playing out in the vast royal gardens, he barely remembered that day as he never came back.
Now, with dark grey skies, he made his way through the various checkpoints. Security was understandably tight given that most if not all of the Queens court, including the Royal family themselves, now gathered at the summer palace to hold court. As the new Director of the SIS, Victor was allowed almost anywhere on the ground of security, he could, if he so wished, even request an audience with her majesty. But his business today hardly concerned the Queen. Thunder rolled overhead as the tall man clad in black trudged by himself towards the great palace, the gravel crunching under each step. He must have looked like an undertaker, gaunt and pale, on his way to act as death's representative, to tell some high born lord that death had claimed their son or daughter. Before he reached the main doors however, he took a left and wandered down another path, now that he was away from whatever prying eyes may have been watching him, he produced his pipe. True, he had been smoking far too much lately, but it was one of the few things he could still enjoy. He kept wandering through the gardens, weaving between the roses, daffodils and ivy. Soon he was on a path barely used, even the gardeners had given up trying to tend it, or perhaps they forgot it even existed. A smaller garden house soon came into view, a few figures moved behind it's windows. He extinguished his pipe, and checked to see if his pistol was still where he left it, just in case.
He walked up to the door, knocked on it three times before entering and checked to see if it was who he expected to see inside.
The door opened and the stern, serious face of Andrew Hayashi Dagon appeared. Seeing him in normal civilian clothes was unusual though. The image of him dressed in old kusarian style kimono is the image that Victor's mind associated to the face. His eyes looked up and down at Victor and nodded him to enter without ceremony.
Nodding back, with his jaw tensed, Victor took two steps and found himself in a glass garden world. Roses, lush and colorful everywhere, on vases in the ground, hanging from the ceiling, in massive supports. And in the middle of it, all, Lady Tara Nelson Reidman Dagon, wearing a tailored suit, was perfectly pouring a warm tea from a furo into traditional chawan bowls that were resting on a garden table. The image was, if nothing, the product of the very colorful past of the Dagon family. Bretonian protocol. Libertonian utilitarianism. Kusari tradition. As he approached the table, he slightly bowed to the woman who didn't even turned to look at Victor while she continued to pour the tea through out all the bowls. Her eyebrow rose ever so slightly, however.
Putting down the furo, she finally looked at Victor and sketched a smile at her husband and motioned for all of them to sit. Finally composing herself, she breathed in and looked at Victor, without a trace of friendliness or warmth. Like someone had done the proverbial mess. Looking away, she started to compose her chawan and placed both her hands on the bowl.
"Alexander. You stink of tobacco. If it was not for the local aroma of this place countering it, I dare say you would need a bath before entering the palace."
Andrew started to sip his tea, as if the conversation had nothing to do with him.
.
He bit his inner cheek, he had foolishly forgotten about Tara's barbed tongue. Apologies my lady, but I have neither time nor desire to enter the palace today. My business concerns you and master Andrew here, that is all. He sat opposite the pair, bringing his briefcase up to his lap and opening it producing a blank envelope that bore nothing but the Steiner family crest, he put it on the table and pulled out a folder. Before we begin, I don't think I need to reiterate the need for absolute secrecy regarding the matters we discuss today. I do not require your consent nor are you required to say anything. He opened the folder, drawings from both an engineering perspective and a archaeological perspective were present regarding a shipyard.
The first matter I need to discuss with you is of lesser importance and is probably of more interest to you, master Andrew. This is Aland shipyard, it's basic design, floor plan and it's expected capabilities. I have enclosed an expected damage report for when we take it, which should not be long if Kaze knows what she is doing. I give this to you because once it's over and done with, it will need to be repaired. As head of development, I thought you might appreciate a way or two in which it could be improved later on. He closed the folder and slid it to the man before he picked up the envelope. This is, if I am being perfectly honest, the real reason why I have come to see both of you today. Upon your honour, you will declare to me now that what we say to one another here and now will never be spoken again. Do I have your word?
Andrew nodded and moving away the bowl, he opened the envelope and started to look at the data in hand. He slightly leaned back, putting himself at ease, much like a Libertonian would, forgetting the situation at hand.
Tara however was silent and looking at Victor. Drinking some of the tea, she sighed slightly, and placed the bowl down.
"You do. Andrew is listening, even if he doesn't appear to."
She replied, with a small smirk in her mouth. Victor looked at Andrew's eyes, that were seemingly focused in the reports twitch to her side for half a second.
"What is the matter, Alexander? Is it about your uncle?"
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No. He said simply, making it clear that he did not wish to speak of his uncle for the time being. He opened the envelope and inside produced a single rose gold ring and placed it on the table in front of Tara. He was quite clearly nervous, he watched both Tara and Andrew like prey would watch a predator. He allowed the silence to linger for a time before he made it clear what the ring was intended for.
He spoke slowly and deliberately, careful to choose his words and ensuring that he spoke in only the most proper and formal language. I should of course make plain what is meant by this display. I have come, backed with considerable thought and conviction, to seek your permission in seeking the hand of your daughter.
While Tara's sight was fixed on the ring, Andrew slowly rose his eyes to met Victor's. They were both running the aftermath of this in their heads in a way or another, and none of them displayed in their faces what the result was. Tara was the obvious first to talk.
"No."
And before Victor could actually fabricate a word in his mind, she was quick with the follow-up, with Andrew looking away from Victor to Tara, like he was waiting for what she was about to say.
"She is third in line to throne. I know very well the game you are playing at, Victor Alexander Weber Steiner."
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He nodded while taking the ring and returning it to it's envelope. Thank you for your honesty he said standing You should know however, that while I respect your answers wholeheartedly, I cannot abide by them, and I believe it only right to inform you both that I will seek her approval regardless. Should I fail, then I will continue to try. He gathered his bag and began moving towards the door before turning around and speaking to Tara You have my apologies for the actions that I have have made that give you such a poor outlook of me. So much so that you think I seek only your blood. With that, he gave a curt bow and made to leave.
"Stop."
Andrew's voice carried more weight than one would expect. Victor slowly turned, expecting a blade or any other kusarian like honor event. All he found was Tara shooting daggers off her eyes to Andrew, visibly fuming at her husband. Without even bothering to even look at her wife, Andrew placed the reports onto the table and signaled with his hand for Victor to sit again.
"Sit."
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He did so, waiting to see what they had to say with intent curiosity. He was surprised they were against him, although he would wait for their explanations before jumping to conclusions.
"Andrew.."
Tara spoke, but was cut short by a short look from her husband, who still remained serious and stern. She composed herself slightly and looked at Victor, waiting for her husband to speak.
"I want my daughter to be happy. Because I know she'll never take the throne."
Her faced snapped to Andrew, ready to deploy whatever furious barrage was to come, and she did, without restraint in pitch and volume.
"Are you mad? You, of all people, know very well if Bretonia asks, if Bretonia requires it so, she will say yes. She will see it as her duty, not a bloody birthright!"
Victor flinched ever so slightly at the display. The serene, stern Andrew taking the full brunt of Tara's explosion. Just another confirmation that they were in fact, her parents. In the end, Andrew just breathed in and looked at his wife.
"If it comes to pass, yes. If. A very big if."
He calmly put his hands over hers, and looked at her and then again at Victor.
"My daughter.. is a rare thing. Her drive is nothing like I have ever seen. Her need for an objective surmounts any other need of her, and when it happens, she dedicates herself fully to it. Her mind sees very differently than ours. Works differently, to be honest."
His hands traveled to the envelope with the reports and started to stack them, cleanly, precise, as it second nature to him.
"And with you, she finally breathes. I can tell. She lets it go. For a moment or not, it doesn't matter. She seems herself with you."
The mother, breathed in, and seemed to accept the words he was speaking. She looked at Victor with an apologetic look that lasted not even a second, before resuming the stone look that she carried, always.
"So, yes. I don't care about one of many possible futures."
He looked at his wife again and smiled somewhat. She smiled back, calm once again. Her face, however, after a silent second, turned to Victor, serious.
"Yes. You have our blessing. But.. the succession issue will have to be dealt with, eventually. In these times, Alexander, the Crown must anticipate every situation. However, you have our allegiance in this. I will deal with the background noise of the court if it comes to it."
Andrew nodded, and both of them resumed their normal stance. Rising an eyebrow, not in the normal fashion, Tara squinted her other eye at Victor.
"I hope you are not planning to ask her.. now, are you?"
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