Image by Gabriele M. Reinhardt from Pixabay

Kuen swallowed the bile that rose into his throat as the servant helping him popped open the cologne bottle. “My lord, does this scent please you?” the adolescent asked, waving the fragile crystal container under Kuen’s nose. The smell was a combination of some kind of musk and months old piles of trash left to rot in the sun.

“It does not matter if it pleases him or not,” a childlike voice said from the doorway. “I wish him to wear it. So he will. Only two spritzes from the bottle though. You have a tendency to wish to bathe him in it and I dislike the questions about what my son is hiding due to the amount of cologne he drowns himself in.”

“As you command, my lady,” the servant said. He sprayed the foul-smelling liquid on Kuen twice before stepping back.

Kuen looked at his mother’s reflection in the mirror. Michi Nakano stood poised in the doorway as if she’d been stopped on her way to some important meeting. The elegant cocktail dress that was her usual attire for these early evening parties had been replaced by a gray business suit. Her mask-like face was not painted as it normally was but only a hint of crimson and black brought attention to lips and eyes.

“Kuen, stand up,” Michi said. Kuen did as he was told. Michi made a spinning motion with her finger. Kuen turned slowly with his hands out at waist height so she could get a good look at him.

“Do I meet with your approval, Mother?” Kuen asked. The black leather and silk fit him like a second skin, and the subtle blue embroidered highlights in the jacket caught the light just as they were supposed to.

“Where is your jewelry?” Michi asked.

Kuen pointed to the black velvet cases still sitting on top of his dressing table. “I was waiting until I was certain my clothing fit properly before adding any further adornment.”

“You will draw quite a bit of attention tonight,” Michi said, her voice dropping to a more normal tone. There was a triumphant little smirk on her face. “I trust you will, of course, behave far better than most young men of your age?”

Kuen knew what she was referring to. Everyone did. There were always stories in the newsbytes about a “young man of quality” taking advantage of intoxicated women at parties, or of their tendencies towards seducing the underage sisters of the women who were in their own age group. Michi saw it as ammunition against those young men’s families, as all of her status did. Kuen was sickened by the young men and by the reaction of those who should be attempting to guide them to a better path in life.

It also didn’t help that the men were often forced to pay a fine, perhaps spent at most thirty days in the detention center, and then were freed to do it all over again. Kuen found that the most disturbing thing of all.

He noticed his mother watching him intently. “I have no desire to see the Nakano name smeared across the newsbytes for something so trivial as an inability to control myself around a pretty girl,” Kuen said. “I am more capable than most of ignoring the body’s physical reaction to such a situation and will not bring shame or disgrace to our family’s name, Mother.”

You already did that, though I don’t think you’re aware I know that particular story, Kuen added to himself silently.

“I am very glad to hear that,” Michi said. “Now, put on the jewelry. I wish to see the finished product before I leave this evening.”

“Do you have a meeting tonight, Mother?” Kuen asked as he started opening the cases. He fastened the platinum and sapphire jewelry into place.

“Lakshmi and I have been called off world to address some inconsistencies in the business records from the mining operations on Obiea,” Michi said. “I do not think it will take long to set them to rights. However, I will still be aware of your actions while we are away.”

“I would expect you to keep watch over me regardless of your location,” Kuen said.

Michi smiled at him. It was the fatuous quirk of the lips that one would give an especially obedient pet and not the maternal look of approval you’d expect from a mother to her grown son. “Lakshmi is waiting for me, so I am leaving now. I have placed your keys on the table by the door. Do not make me take them away again, Kuen. Or you will lose them for good.” With that, Michi was gone.

“Lord Kuen, is there anything else you wish?” the servant asked, reaching for the cologne. “Perhaps more of this since you can barely smell it?”

“My mother gave her orders. Do you wish me to tell her you disobeyed?” Kuen growled. The servant paled and all but ran from the room, leaving Kuen with a few minutes of blissful peace and quiet. Kuen stared out the door at the picture on the wall directly across from his room.

Kuen moved forward and leaned against the door frame. He often studied the painting when his mother and Lakshmi weren’t around. The background of the image was just a generic forest, like every tree-filled backdrop in the artwork he’d seen since arriving on Bouarus. The figure – a man – was different.

He was stocky, with gray eyes that almost seemed alive as they stared out from under a tangled mop of cherry red hair. His chest was broad, and his smile would have weakened the knees of anyone who saw him as attractive. It was the oddly colored hair that drew the eye first. Then you noticed the man was only wearing a pair of tight pants that showcased yet another significant feature.

In one hand was a picnic basket. The other casually balanced two wine glasses. The gleam of gold at throat and wrists at first seemed to be jewelry. A closer inspection revealed it was a collar and pair of metal bands linked by a golden chain. A longer chain dangled down his chest and was looped over his arm so he wouldn’t trip over it.

The title card for the painting was smashed so the display could not be read, and the name of the artist was missing. There was no way to tell what the painting was originally called. His mother had placed a note beath it. The Face of a Traitor, it said.

Kuen straightened, gave his jacket a final tug, and called it good. He strode down the hall and took the stairs two at a time. He scooped his keys out of the small crystal bowl they’d been set in before heading to the garage.

His car was in its usual spot, and it didn’t take long before he was off heading towards the first of tonight’s parties. “KLPI, what is the first stop on my itinerary?” Kuen asked.

There was a faint set of three beeps in his ear as his voice activated virtual assistant consulted a schedule. “The gathering at Lady Sosie Ghazarian’s estate,” the soft feminine voice said. A map of the streets and the most efficient path for him to take appeared helpfully on the screen in the dashboard. “Do you wish to go full automatic?”

“No, just tell me at minimum half a mile before I need to turn if I haven’t already moved into the correct lane,” Kuen said. The KLPI beeped and went silent.

The temptation to drive to the port and take the first liner as far away from his mother as possible rose up in him yet again. Civilian life was quite possibly the worst punishment the High Command had ever given him, second only to forcing him to execute one of his closest friends. There was no structure to civilian life, even when he had a schedule. Answering the tyrannical whims of a delusional woman who believed she was the center of the universe was also more aggravating than training raw recruits with chips on their shoulders.

To run now would not be a retreat, Kuen told himself for the thousandth time. It would be cowardice. I am not a coward. To know when to withdraw, when to hold, and when to advance is the truest test of an officer’s training and I am the consummate officer.

Every day he repeated this, along with several passages from The Art of War. The ancient military text from an archaic society where war was a way of life was required reading for junior officers. Kuen loved it and could recite most of the manuscript from memory.

The author’s name was long since lost to time. For a text dedicated to warfare, it offered an interesting philosophy on how to handle all aspects of life. Kuen relied on it to help him get through his day.

He supposed it worked for him as prayer and religious verses worked for some others. Kuen mentally recited different passages as he drove through the heavily patrolled streets near the homes of the wealthy elite. His KLPI helpfully informed him that the garish yellow manor house on his left was Lady Ghazarian’s and he turned into the shrub lined drive.

A valet was waiting for him as he pulled up to their station. The androgynous youth held out their hand for the keys. “Thank you, my lord,” they said when Kuen dropped them into the outstretched palm. Even the voice didn’t give Kuen an idea whether they presented as male or female when they were off the clock. He shrugged it off, took the proffered tag, and went inside.

“Now that is a profile I remember,” an extremely familiar male voice said. Kuen paused as Gaspare and the circle of young people with him surrounded and then swallowed Kuen. “Ladies, of course you know Kuen Nakano.”

“Oh yes,” one of the ladies said with a derisive snort. “The Heir of the Nakano woman. What is he to you?”

“My best friend,” Gaspare said. “We went to school together, though he left a few months before I did.”

“I was under the impression you would be remaining at school for a while yet,” Kuen said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“That was my intention,” Gaspare said. “However, when parents demand something other than what we might wish, who are we to disobey their orders?”

Kuen snorted. That was Gaspare’s veiled way of saying High Admiral Benoit had pulled his son out of the Academy for some purpose. “You look very well for someone who has been forced to eat something other than the high cuisine of our private academy,” he said.

Gaspare chuckled. “You know my mother, always trying to ensure we eat well and live the best lives we can.”

“What are you doing here, Kuen?” a young woman sneered. It was Sibeal Mondadori, daughter to the First Councilor of Bouarus. She was a soft blonde girl who wore too much makeup, bathed infrequently and thus hid her stench with far too much perfume, and had no concept of personal space. Too much of her flesh was being squeezed out of the circular cutouts in her far too small neon green gown, though judging by how she was moving she thought it was an attractive look. “I thought you were only fond of those gatherings where you could have your mother on your arm.”

“I attended parties with my mother at her request,” Kuen said. “She wanted to be certain to show me off in her own way. She is pleased with my accomplishments, so why would I not allow her to showcase her pride in such a manner?”

“I was under the impression that it was your prowess in certain other areas that pleased her so much,” Sibeal said, smirking.

Gaspare, who’d had her on his arm up until that point, let her go. “Lady Sibeal, I find such aspersions being cast on Kuen to be very distasteful,” he said coldly.

“You have not been here, Gaspare. You have not seen the way Michi Nakano positively fawns over her son,” Sibeal said. “It is sickening.”

“A mother may be proud of her son without it leading to the kind of disgusting actions you are suggesting happens between my friend and his mother,” Gaspare said.

“Not to mention you just put yourself and your mother in Michi Nakano’s line of fire, if Kuen chooses to tell her what you said,” Cyprienne Bellamy, youngest daughter of Second Councilor Jourdain Bellamy of Celaria, said. “My father was one of her more recent targets. Right now my mother and brothers are in exile with him on Celaria while I have been fortunate enough to escape to my cousin’s estate here.” She grimaced. “My father is a tyrant and is horrifically abusive to them all. We are hoping Lady Nakano will find another target soon in order to give my family a chance to escape my father.”

“How can one woman – someone who is not even a member of the Assembly – have such power?” another young man asked. “You say her name and people immediately silence you, saying she is something akin to the vengeful spirits from the tales we were told as children to scare us into behaving.”

“Lady Nakano does not need to be on the Assembly to have that kind of power over the lives of those around her,” a fairly pretty young woman with mouse brown hair and a sweet smile said. “She has more wealth than most planetary governments at her disposal. Money speaks louder than words in our society.”

“What does a stupid little Pleasure Seeker like you know about the dealings of your social superiors?” the young man asked with a sneer.

“The Pleasure Seekers are the first to notice when and where money is going,” Gaspare said. “For their livelihood often depends on the financial support of those of us in this caste. They know more about us than we do about them, for all you might think of us as their superiors.” He slid his arm around the shoulders of the young courtesan. “Come along, Aoi. Kuen, you should go pay your respects to Lady Ghazarian. Aoi and I will accompany you.”

When they were well away from the company of the other young men and women, Kuen looked at his friend. “Why do you keep the company of that creature?” he asked.

“I hope you are not referring to Aoi,” Gaspare said.

“No,” Kuen said. “I was meaning the soft thing attempting to ooze out of its green cocoon thinking it will become a creature of great beauty if only it bathes in enough perfume and anoints itself with enough face paint.”

Gaspare bit back a laugh. “You know that saying such things will get you into trouble with First Councilor Mondadori.”

“Yes, and my mother is very displeased with the councilors of Bouarus so it makes little difference if they are unhappy with me or not,” Kuen said. They reached the hostess of the fete and Gaspare fell silent. Kuen bowed over the diminutive matron’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “Lady Ghazarian, it is a pleasure to see you this evening.”

Lady Sosie Ghazarian dimpled up like a girl and patted him on the cheek. “You are always welcome at my estate, Kuen,” she said, her voice raspy with age. “Gaspare, have you finally managed to relieve yourself of that obstreperous leech?”

“If you mean Sibeal, yes. She is over pouting that I was not effusive enough in my praises of her charms, as well as seething over my protection of my companion for the evening,” Gaspare said.

“I do not understand Jaynie. I knew her father well, and Aiden would never have wanted Jaynie or Sibeal to turn out the way they did,” Sosie said.

“My mother once said the death of First Councilor Aiden Mondadori was one of the worst crimes in the history of the Assembly,” Kuen said. “I do believe she meant it too.”

“She probably did, since Aiden was one of her early mentors. I think if he had been allowed to continue to guide both women, Jaynie and Michi would never have turned out the way they did,” Sosie said. She grinned at Kuen. “Now kindly do not go repeating that to your mother, young man.”

“My lips are sealed, Lady Ghazarian,” Kuen said with his most winning smile.

Sosie laughed. “Off you three go then,” she said. “I have other guests to greet.”

Gaspare led Kuen over to the tables where food and wine were being served. “She spares no expense when it comes to feeding her guests,” Gaspare said. “This is the third party of hers I have attended, and I am always thrilled with what she seems to be able to find.”

“I would avoid the drinks until she gets them replaced,” Aoi said softly. She gestured to several unappetizing bowls of foul-smelling brown liquid. “It looks like someone tried to spike them.”

“What in the name of all the stars made it do that?” Kuen asked.

“A harmless chemical that normally remains inert until it reacts with something not in the original recipe for the drinks,” Aoi said. “I heard one of the cooks talking about it. It’s very expensive but it has saved more than one person from a horrible fate at these parties.”

“More people should use this technique,” Gaspare said grimly. “It might save many an innocent from being harmed by those who are so unscrupulous as to prey on the defenseless.”

“What angers me is it is only the men who are named as the assailants in all of the cases,” Kuen said. “Surely there are women who are just as predatory as the men.”

“Several, but because women have never really been seen as strong enough to take on a man that could easily outweigh her by several kilograms, it makes no sense to the newsbytes to showcase what they think is a rare situation.” Kuen looked over to where the speaker was standing, along with her very unhappy companion. “Then again, I don’t think anyone should be victimized under any circumstance, so I am possibly not the best person to ask that of.”

“Fiera, I don’t think your client is happy with you,” Aoi said.

The woman who’d spoken, another Pleasure Seeker by the way Gaspare’s companion talked to her, just snorted. “He’s not happy because he’s the one who spiked the punch and has had his parents called away from another party to come retrieve him,” she said. “I suppose I’ll have to find another way back to my House.”

“Are the two of you not at the same House then?” Kuen asked.

“No,” Aoi said. “I am at the House of the Spring Flowers. Fiera is at the House of the Midnight Song.”

“How is it that you know each other then?” Kuen asked.

“We started training at the same time,” Fiera said. “We just ended up being acquired by two different House Masters.”

“Ah,” Kuen said, dismissing them both from his mind.

“Kuen Nakano,” Fiera said, causing him to turn to look at her again. “I was trying to figure out which one you were. There are very few young men of your social caste who don’t generally come to parties without someone on their arm. I was trying to place where I had seen you before. I have been at a few parties where you and Lady Nakano attended. Your mother is a striking woman. I’m quite envious of how she can pull off wearing yellow. It’s one of my favorite colors and yet I tend to look like an anemic slug. She looks like a sparkling gem.”

“My mother does enjoy wearing the shades of spring, as she puts it,” Kuen said.

“I am more into the colors of winter,” Fiera said. She touched one of her cherry red ringlets and Kuen was startled to realize it matched the shade of hair of the man in the painting across from his room. “Though my hair would make you think I’d be more into the colors of spring or fall, I just love all shades of blue.”

“You are stunning in that color, Fiera,” Aoi said. “Especially in teal or a deep sapphire blue.”

Fiera smiled. “Blue is, and always has been, my favorite color.”

Just then a very unhappy couple arrived. They pushed Fiera to the side and dragged her companion out, swearing at him in at least two different languages as they went. “Will you have to take an autocab home?” Aoi asked. Fiera sighed and nodded. Aoi winced. “That’s going to set back your plans, isn’t it?”

“Something always does. It doesn’t matter. I’ll get there in the end. If you’ll excuse me, I have to see if Lady Ghazarian is in the mood to let me use her comm unit.” Fiera glided off and the scent of Himostava spice cookies lingered in her wake.

“She is stunning,” Gaspare said.

“She is,” Aoi said with a smile. “She’s also far cleverer than I will ever be.”

“She must be a shrewd businesswoman if she is as successful as she seems,” Kuen said.

“I know that her stylists are some of the top in their field,” Aoi said. “Yet even the best stylists cannot work with what isn’t there. There’s always been something about Fiera that sticks with you. She’s very hard to forget.”

Hm,” Kuen said. It only took another few minutes before the servants replaced all the tainted drinks. Gaspare and Kuen filled their cups, and Gaspare filled one for Aoi. The trio settled down to chat for a bit before Kuen excused himself to circulate. It wouldn’t do for his mother to believe he wasn’t doing his job properly as her heir.

He stayed for a few hours before moving on to the next party. Gaspare and Aoi turned up at this one as well. The final party wasn’t nearly as enjoyable, but he suffered through it as his mother required. At the end of the night Kuen returned home alone.

The incessant buzzing of his comm woke him from troubled dreams. He grabbed it from the bedside table where he’d tossed it the night before and stuck it in his ear. “This is Kuen,” he mumbled.

“Why are you still in bed, lazy?” Gaspare’s voice cut through the usual morning fog.

“Because it is 0530, I found my bed only three hours ago, and since I do not have to roust unwilling cadets from their bunks I do not usually rise before 0700,” Kuen said. “Also, my mother was…most insistent I change my habits to suit her whims.”

“Is she as bad as my mother says?” Gaspare asked.

“Your mother’s information, while accurate, will most likely pale in comparison to what the reality is like,” Kuen said.

“Are you free this morning?” Gaspare asked. “I want to talk to you.”

“One moment,” Kuen said. He grabbed the tablet that was never far from his bedside and checked his daily schedule. “Nothing has been altered so I am free until 1300, when I must meet with someone at my mother’s request.”

“There is a small café outside our district,” Gaspare said. “It is called the Green Goddess Café. Meet me there at 0830 for breakfast.” The line went silent as he ended the call.

Kuen took a few deep breaths before rolling out of bed. A casual breakfast with an old friend wasn’t on the list of forbidden things, which meant it was a valid enough reason for leaving the district. Kuen showered and dressed casually, opting to leave off the most ostentatious jewelry and resorting to a simple platinum band around his wrist and in his hair.

He told the servants that he was having breakfast with a friend and that he would be back in time for the scheduled meeting. “We will have to inform your mother of your departure, Lord Kuen,” one of the servants said in a flat voice.

“She did not forbid me from doing so, only insisted that I had to follow the guidelines set out by her for the meetings she scheduled before her departure,” Kuen said. “If she is displeased by my actions, she can call me. I have my comm.” With that, he scooped up his keys from where he’d dropped them the night before and was out the door before another word could be said.

The Green Goddess was a small hole in the wall café filled to the brim with plants and office workers trying desperately to catch a few moments of pseudo privacy as they closed deals. Gaspare was sitting with his back against the wall, watching everyone, when Kuen entered the establishment.

Kuen joined him. “You’re right on time,” Gaspare said as soon as he was within ear shot, dropping the formal speech patterns.

Kuen nodded. “Did you expect anything else?” he asked, shifting his chair around so he could be comfortable and still watch his back.

“I wasn’t expecting much given what I’ve heard of your reputation,” Gaspare said.

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Kuen said. “I’m playing my mother’s game. The rules of engagement are far different from what I’m used to.”

Gaspare snorted. “How long were you at that Academy? Fifteen years?”

“Twenty,” Kuen said. “They dumped me there when I was five because I was a burden. She only called me home because she needed to show off an heir. People were beginning to ask questions she didn’t want to answer.”

“I don’t see why that means you have to have her on your arm at every party you attend,” Gaspare said.

“Her decision, not mine,” Kuen said. The waitress arrived and both men ordered coffee and breakfast. Kuen was amused to see they both chose the same thing without even consulting each other – creamed chipped beef on toast with two poached eggs and a side of fried potatoes with extra bacon. “I take it you’ve missed military food as much as I do?”

Gaspare groaned. “My mother insists on carb loaded meals. I keep telling her that’s not good for any of us, but she’s insistent that I just don’t know what good food is due to being stuck at the Academy for so long.”

“My mother hates anything that reminds her of a heavyworlder’s diet so of course our meals are full of empty carbohydrates, fruit that is there more for flavor than for actual nutritional value, and what meat there is has a low protein index,” Kuen said. “I’m not allowed to fix my own meals, nor am I allowed to order anything in without her express permission. So when I do go anywhere I’m free to eat what I please, I gravitate towards the high protein options.”

“Don’t they understand that our bodies need the protein? Especially with how active we have to be,” Gaspare said.

“Does your mother allow you to keep up on your training?” Kuen asked as the coffee was delivered.

“Doesn’t yours?” Gaspare asked. Kuen shook his head. “What do you do with yourself?”

“Read,” Kuen said. “Play politics at my mother’s command. Do the little exercise she allows me. Try not to make her angry with me again. I’m very tired of the kinds of torment she comes up with.”

“What do you mean?” Gaspare asked. Kuen outlined the nightmarish horror of the last six months of his life on Bouarus. Gaspare’s expression grew grim. “Can’t you turn her into the authorities for any of that?”

“With the weight of the Nakano fortune behind her? I’d be lucky if they considered sticking her in a psychiatric facility for a week-long vacation.” Kuen snorted. “I’d dearly love to see her pay for the things I’ve witnessed, and the things that – while I haven’t seen them – I know of them because of Lakshmi and my mother boasting about them.”

“How do you stand living with her?” Gaspare asked.

“I keep my head down, my mouth shut, and don’t cause any unnecessary issues for her,” Kuen said. “That’s how I survive.”

“Kuen, you are twenty five. You don’t have to rely on her for everything. Get a job. Move out on your own. Get away from her,” Gaspare said.

“Tell me, Gaspare. With the High Command refusing to reverse my discharge, no verifiable skills or education – since I’m not allowed to discuss my education at the Academy with any non-military personnel – and a mother who literally controls my every movement, how would you suggest I go about that?” Kuen asked. He kept his voice low, but the anger was there.

“Find ways to make contacts while you’re at the parties. Someone will want to help you to spite her,” Gaspare said.

“You have no idea just how frightened of her people actually are, Gaspare,” Kuen said. “Ask your father some time about why he almost lost his post on the High Command. My mother was directly responsible for that one, since he was among those who opposed her in the first place.”

“I didn’t realize she was behind that.”

“Most don’t realize their downfall is my mother’s handiwork until it’s too late. Your father did and was able to move to stop her from making an even bigger mess of things than she already had,” Kuen said. He sipped the coffee. “If I could leave the house, be free of her, I would.”

“I still think you’re not taking control of your life as often as you should,” Gaspare said.

Kuen heard an insistent chiming in his ear. He put his finger to his lips. Gaspare nodded. Kuen used the filter controls to silence the background noise and activated his comm so Gaspare could hear the call. “Hello Mother,” Kuen said. “I trust your business is going well?”

“The servants tell me you are out with a woman, Kuen,” Michi said in a cold voice.

“Actually, I’m out having breakfast with Gaspare Benoit, an old friend from school,” Kuen said. “I don’t know where they got the impression I was with a woman.”

“Juno said you were dressed in one of your nicest outfits and smelled of that wonderful cologne from last night,” Michi said.

“Hold on a moment, Mother,” Kuen said. He pulled out his tablet and snapped an image of himself. He sent it to her tablet. “Does that look like I am in my finest outfit? Not to mention you know I only wear cologne because it pleases you. I am not fond of it for my own sake.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. “Kuen, when you return to the house, please tell Juno I am very displeased with him and will deal with his lies when I return home. Unless you wish to?” Michi asked.

“I will deal with it personally, Mother. So long as I have your permission to do as I please?” Kuen asked.

“Make sure it is an unpleasant punishment,” Michi said. “Do not leave any blood lying around, and I do not wish to see him when I return if you are dealing with it.”

“Of course, Mother,” Kuen said. “Do you have any difficulty with my having breakfast with a friend so long as it does not impede my other meetings?”

“Not at all, Kuen. I would not even mind if you included a young lady or two in your breakfasts, so long as they are properly chaperoned and I do not hear of you taking one home at night,” Michi said.

“I would never even consider doing such a thing, Mother. I am well aware of your rules regarding that, as I am every other requirement you have for me,” Kuen said.

“Excellent. Now, this seems to be a far more involved situation than Lakshmi and I expected so I doubt we will be back on Bouarus for at least three months. Possibly longer. If the food starts to run low put in a restock order with the suppliers. I will allow you one indulgence on this next purchase, so make certain you put your request in before the restock order is sent.”

“I appreciate your generosity greatly, Mother,” Kuen said.

“I knew you were a good boy,” Michi said in that sickeningly sweet voice. “Now, finish your breakfast and deal with Juno.” The call ended.

Gaspare looked at Kuen. “Your mother is a nightmare. What will you do with that person she was talking about?”

“Juno?” Kuen asked. He pulled up the household expenses list and found Juno’s tag. He promptly raised Juno’s debt over the threshold and contacted the ISRS. “He’ll be dealt with by the Indentured Servant Registration Service. I don’t really want to resort to the kinds of things my mother would do. While this still most likely ends in his death, at least it’ll be far quicker than if I did it by my mother’s methods.”

Gaspare raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Their food arrived and Kuen waited for the waitress to leave before continuing the conversation. “There is a reason why my mother asked me to be certain there was no blood left. That isn’t because she expected me to do something so ordinary as slit his throat or shoot him. Her idea of suitable punishment is death by the most excruciating torture possible.”

Gaspare took a bite of food. “Your mother is a bloody awful ketch, Kuen.”

“Imagine that kind of threat hanging over your head daily.” Kuen swallowed his mouthful of potatoes. “Only you’re not the one to be punished in that manner. You know that every action you take that upsets her will lead to someone else’s maiming or violent death.”

Gaspare shook his head. “That’s a brutal way to live.”

Kuen sipped his coffee. “That is my daily existence. And has been ever since I had the misfortune of being called home.”

Gaspare took a drink of his own coffee. “Where’s your mother right now? It sounded like she was off planet.”

Kuen chewed and swallowed before answering. “Dealing with an issue on Obiea. I have no doubt she’ll be there for a while.”

“Why is that?” Gaspare drained his coffee and waved the waitress over.

“Because I know what ‘issue’ she’s dealing with even if she doesn’t think I do.” Kuen sipped his coffee and took another mouthful of his breakfast. “The miners went on strike due to poor working conditions, a lack of decent healthcare, and no time off for the past twenty-seven months. There are also several miners listed on the books that aren’t still working, which means my mother is getting tax credits for people who do not even exist. The Assembly was calling for an audit of all businesses on Obiea. We shall have to wait and see what happens. How are you managing with all your sisters underfoot?”

The conversation turned to lighter topics and the two friends departed with a promise to meet the next morning. Kuen got home to a veritable firestorm. The retrieval team was attempting to collect Juno, but the servants were refusing to give him up. “Lord Kuen, these men say Juno’s over this threshold,” a boy no older than twelve said. “But Juno was close to paying off his debt. I saw his armband last night.”

“He might have been close to achieving his freedom last night, but by lying to Lady Nakano this morning he lost more than just his chance to pay off his debt,” Kuen said coldly.

“What lies were those, Lord Kuen?” Juno asked from where he was being sheltered by the other servants. He smirked. “I notice you’re not wearing your jacket.”

“I was not wearing a jacket when I left, Juno,” Kuen said. “Nor was I meeting a young lady. My breakfast was with Lord Gaspare Benoit, a former classmate and good friend of mine. My mother called me, and I was able to prove to her satisfaction that you were the one causing problems. She entrusted me with your punishment. Now, you can either go with these gentlemen or you can wait for my mother and Lakshmi to return from their business trip, and they can deal with you.”

“Do you wish us to leave him in your service until Lady Nakano returns?” one of the retrieval officers asked.

Juno’s smirk was gone. “I would rather go with them, Lord Kuen,” he said, his voice shaking.

“Now I am not certain that is the best way for this to be handled,” Kuen said. He let everyone stand there for several moments. “Very well. Please remove him from the Nakano estate as he is no longer a servant of this house.”

“At once, Lord Nakano,” the retrieval agents said. They collected Juno and stuffed him in the back of their vehicle before slowly trundling off.

“How could you let them take Juno?” the twelve-year-old asked with a wail.

One of the other servants slapped him on the back of the head. “At least the ISRS will kill him quickly, if they decide to go that route. Lady Nakano and Mistress Lakshmi wouldn’t be so nice.”

“But Juno, he was the only one who cared about me,” the boy whimpered.

“He didn’t care about you. You were just another piece of pre-recycled organ trash to him,” one of the other servants said. “He only showed you affection because it meant you’d do the work he didn’t want to. Let’s go. Lord Kuen has things to do and we’re in his way.” The boy was dragged off by the other servants.

Kuen went to his rooms. “I despise doing things like that,” he muttered to no one but himself. He stripped out of his casual clothing and filled his own bath. He didn’t bother using scented oils or anything that his mother would consider normal. He did tie his hair up so it wouldn’t get wet. He climbed in and let the scalding water burn away his guilt. It didn’t work, but he tried.

When he was finished soaking, Kuen dressed in the elegant suit set out for him and allowed his servant to dab a touch of cologne onto his wrists. Then he made his way down to his mother’s informal office. It was only informal in the fact that her formal one was never seen by anyone but Lakshmi, Michi, and their unfortunate victims. Kuen was intimately familiar with the room as he had been a recipient of their “special attentions” and was only too glad not to have to take his mother’s guest in there.

Third Councilor Zakhar Sorokin of Tzenketh was shown into the office. “I was under the impression I was meeting with Lady Nakano, not some space brained playboy,” Zakhar said coldly.

Kuen sized him up out of habit. He was almost equal in height to the young former officer, with a lean build. Eyes, fingers, and ears were just far enough off from average human sizes that Kuen understood his heritage – probably far better than the Third Councilor did.

“Councilor Sorokin, two things. I am no playboy, and my mother was called away without warning. You were informed that I was taking her place. Ms. Khurana sent the message shortly before they left,” Kuen said. “I am aware of this since she also sent the same message to me. As my mother’s heir I have the ability to make decisions on her behalf. Shall we dispense with the unpleasantness?”

“What does the Nakano woman want with me?” Zakhar asked.

Kuen sat down behind the desk and indicated the chair on the opposite side of the ornately carved wooden barrier. Kuen knew very well he looked every bit the powerful lord his mother expected him to be in this chair. The Councilor glared at him before slowly sitting on the edge of the comfortable chair.

Kuen picked up the tablet and accessed the file his mother left for him. “Lady Nakano is prepared to offer you the rather substantial resources of our family in securing your position as Second Councilor in the next election cycle on Tzenketh if you will guarantee you can secure an affirmative vote for Assembly Motion 24-17, which is coming up for a vote at the end of this week,” he said.

Zakhar stared at him. “How does Lady Nakano propose to secure my victory? Second Councilor Ksenia Gurin is well liked among my people. She will not be easy to unseat, and I have other opponents to concern myself with as well.”

Kuen consulted his notes. “According to several news sources from your own homeworld, five of the seven opponents you would have faced have already withdrawn not only their own candidacies but their support for Councilor Gurin.”

Zakhar scowled. “That does not mean Lady Nakano can make good on her promise.”

“Councilor Sorokin, Lady Nakano does not make promises she has no ability to keep. It would be a waste of time and resources, and both of those are always in finite supply.” Kuen set down the pad. “So, will you accept the offer? Or do I approach Second Councilor Gurin with the same offer?”

Zakhar huffed. “I will think about it.”

“The offer is off the table as of midnight tonight, Councilor Sorokin. I would not take too long if I were you.” Kuen leaned forward, his eyes boring into Zakhar’s. “Please do not take all night.”

Zakhar froze as if he were prey in the gaze of a predator. In many ways he was. Kuen was not near the creature of death and destruction that his mother was, but he was dangerous. Zakhar swallowed hard. “Very well then, Lord Nakano. Please inform your mother that I will accept her offer. I am certain I can sway the First Councilor to my way of thinking, especially if I am allowed to remove the Second Councilor from the delegation for the duration of the vote.”

Kuen held up his hand. “You cannot have her killed, or permanently harmed in any way. On that Lady Nakano was very clear. She has plans for Councilor Gurin’s downfall and it does not include having to cover up actions taken by you.”

“I can easily slip something into her food that she’s allergic to,” Zakhar said. “It won’t permanently harm her, but it will inconvenience her until after the vote.”

“Do you have a list of those items?” Kuen asked.

“I do,” Zakhar said.

Kuen nodded. “If you would forward that list to Ms. Khurana as well with the explanation that this information might be of some use to her at a later date, I am certain she will be very interested in it.” Zakhar nodded and took his leave.

Two hours later his mother called him. “Kuen, why did Lakshmi get a list of foods that Councilor Gurin is allergic to, up to and including lethal reactions from Councilor Sorokin?” Michi asked irritably.

Kuen sighed. “It was something I did to make him feel he was more a part of the scheming than he would be. Not to mention I was not certain if this would be considered vital intelligence that could be used against her or not. He has agreed to your terms and will make certain the vote from Tzenketh goes in your favor.”

“Ah,” Michi said. “We were aware of most of these allergies, though the one to strawberries is new to us both. Thank you for your help in this. What are your plans for this evening?”

Kuen shrugged. “The same as they always are, Mother. Attend the parties I have been approved to attend, converse with the attendees, and sleep when I finally return home.”

“I have heard that people find it distasteful to see you without a woman on your arm. Call one of the Pleasure Houses and request an escort. I do not care the price, only that the woman you choose is beautiful and has at least some intelligence,” Michi said.

“Of course, Mother.” Kuen grimaced. He did not want a courtesan on his arm all night.

“I would also prefer if you wore the green and black tonight. Also I want you to use the black bottle of cologne instead of the crystal one,” Michi said.

Kuen gritted his teeth. “As you wish, Mother.” “You are such a good boy, Kuen.” The singsong, childish tone was back before she ended the call. Kuen slammed the comm down on his side table before changing again.