Fortuna

by E G Manetti

  Monsignor Angus is an amiable and attentive host. A short, blocky man, he has the appearance of a man in his thirties, not his fifties. The sandy brush of hair sticks out wildly in all directions above a round, pale face marked with freckles and lit by warm brown eyes that snap with energy and intelligence. As Lilian takes her seat behind milord’s left shoulder, Monsignor Angus flashes her a smile, the gesture a reflection of the more relaxed manners of the Fourth System.

  The chamber is full of chatter and movement as the Bright Star monsignors and seigneurs find their places at the table, the protégés and associates filling the chairs arrayed to one side. Monsignor Horatio appears as hard and uncompromising as he did at the consortium formation. Beneath the bronze dome of his shaved head, the strong leonine features hold a habitually severe expression intensified by the dark brown eyes and thick black brows that imply a frown of displeasure even when the face is relaxed. Seated next to him, his son and heir, Seigneur William, is deceptively charming. Fairer than his father, with more refined features, Seigneur William’s gray-flecked blue eyes and wavy chestnut hair are a maternal legacy. The shrewd, uncompromising ambition lurking behind the pleasant features has eliminated more than one rival foolish enough to believe the handsome man owes his place to his father’s indulgence and not commerce ability.

  The Bright Star financial review proceeds as Lilian expected. From the head of the conference table, milord leads the review, the discussion cordial but demanding as each partner positions for advantage. It was inevitable in such a massive and ambitious undertaking that adjustments would be necessary. There will be several rounds of negotiation during the summit, of which the introduction of the Bright Star code will be but one.

  When the review reaches the current and expected costs of SEV1 construction, Lilian carefully watches Monsignor Angus and his fellow Leonardo governor, Coyote Meterand. Ten years Angus’ senior, Monsignor Coyote of the Red Saber Cartouche has thick iron-gray hair held in a queue, broad features, black eyes, and a bulbous nose.

  A few months gone, Lilian determined that an alloy fabricator was overcharging the Bright Star Consortium by thirty percent with the connivance of his kinsman Coyote Meterand. In terms of SEV1 construction, the fraudulent amount is minor. As an addition to Monsignor Coyote’s personal wealth, it is considerable. Rather than confront Angus and Coyote, milord has held the information close, hoping for advantage. If Matahorn discovers the fraud, milord’s advantage is lost.

  Neither man shows the slightest discomfort as Seigneur William expresses disappointment in the increased SEV1 construction costs. For a moment, Lilian holds her breath. Has Matahorn discovered the fraud in the alloy costs? No, it is but part of the negotiations to disparage the other partner’s performance. The review moves to the next topic, and Lilian returns to her frantic notations of the conversation and the reactions of the principals. Unable to use her recording device due to security-privilege restrictions, she has never been more grateful for the apprentice notes form.

  In addition to those she knows, there are many new faces; the Matahorn and Leonardo teams are expanding as rapidly as Serengeti’s. The lovely Matahorn seigneur who attended the formation events is present, along with Seigneur Fenrir of Dark Axe, the Matahorn financials seigneur. Arrayed in the chairs are a dozen new additions, including Monsignor Horatio’s new protégé, Basil Vylasi, Seigneur Fenrir’s protégé, Mayling, and Monsignor Angus protégé, Declan Red-Eagle.

  »◊«

  The transit from the Leonardo Society to the Serenity passes in silence, as did the outbound trip. Even with Mr. George’s diligence, Lucius will not trust that the transport is secure. Only in Lucius’ suite, where Trevelyan’s operatives have designed its security-privilege, will they speak openly. Beyond the monitors in the Leonardo facilities, other venues are not secure, the monitors easily breached by others as they have been by Trevelyan’s operatives.

  “What think you, Lilian?” Lucius asks as they enter the suite.

  The past six bells have been mentally grueling. The subtle positioning was complex. There were too many variables to sift with ease. I am glad I slept with the thorn last night. Do not voice that.

  Following milord through the suite, Lilian replies, “Monsignor Angus is pleased with his progress and is eager for tomorrow’s demonstration. I believe he will be excited by the potential of the Bright Star code. Monsignor Horatio is not comfortable in second place and is still angered over losing shares to Serengeti in last year’s intrigue. Beyond that, milord, I must consider awhile. A great deal occurred in a very short span of time.”

  “Very good. Will you train?” Milord enters his chamber.

  “Yes, if it pleases milord.” Lilian follows milord into his chamber. “Discipline only, not sparring. I prefer the balcony.”

  Lilian waits by the door to her adjoining chamber as milord disrobes. Should he wish her to use the Serenity facilities, she will need to train unarmed. There are too many high-ranked warriors in the guesthouse for it to be wise to flash her thorn.

  “Good, I am to meet Nickolas.” Milord reaches for his training garb. “Be here when I return.”

  A period and a half later, relaxed from his exercise, Lucius enters Lilian’s chamber through their adjoining door to find her removing her training trousers. Her thorn is nowhere in evidence. At his arrival, Lilian comes to attention, one hand on the trouser fastening, awaiting Lucius’ will.

  “Finish disrobing and join me in the shower.”

  »◊«

  The short, dull-gold silk skirt hugs Lilian’s hips and swirls gracefully around her thighs as she turns before the trifold mirror, inspecting her appearance. The snug halter top in the same fabric has intricate beading along the daring V-neck that hints at much while revealing little. Trailing from a loose topknot, wavy dark red locks tickle between her bare shoulders. Riding her hips, the warbelt is a shining counterpoint to the duller color, the rubies, Vistrite, and Mercium glittering brightly next to her scarlet conservator’s seal.

  The design, more suitable for the dry season in Crevasse City than the chill of Fort Rimon, was the best option available. Even with gold popular, locating a frock in two pieces that was both formal and above the knee was not a simple matter. As it was, Lilian had the original, mid-calf design shortened to meet milord’s requirements. The scarlet satin pumps were not her first choice, but those she could afford in gold were either too flimsy or had impossible heels.

  Within the reception salon, milord is a dark shadow against the blue and green sunset beyond the windows. The soft, loosely cut jacket and trousers in midnight emphasize milord’s height and shoulders. Milord turns at the sound of her footfalls. His shadowed face appears all the darker in contrast with his cream silk tunic. At the motion of milord’s hand, Lilian pivots for inspection.

  As she completes her turn, milord steps out of the shadows, desire flaring in his eyes, a slight smile curving his mobile mouth. Hard, warm hands caress Lilian’s shoulders and travel her back, pulling her tight to his chest. Delicious heat thrums through Lilian and clenches delicate muscles in her pelvis. One of milord’s hands traces the outer edge of the top. A single finger works its way between Lilian’s skin and the snuggly tailored silk.

  Lucius confirms his suspicion. This once, his very proper apprentice has willingly omitted part of her lingerie. The hasty coupling in the shower has served its purpose. Lucius is able to repress the sharp pull of desire and release Lilian. They have duty to attend.

  »◊«

  Mayling Boreas could have been designed by the Shades to be the perfect Adelaide to Fletcher’s Socraide, at least that appears to be Fletcher’s opinion. To Lilian and Nickolas’ amusement, he has not left her side in a bell. That the long, lustrous black hair owes it curls to art rather than nature is unimportant. They complement her long face with its high cheekbones and large, black, almond-shaped eyes set in honey-hued skin. The deep rose of the full, soft mouth may have been enhanced by art, but the shape is natural and desi
gned for pleasure. Mayling is of Lilian’s height, her curvier figure displayed in fitted crimson silk frock.

  A dedicated fan of the Moon Races, Seigneur Fenrir’s lovely protégé is more than willing to give her full attention to Fletcher. In contrast to Lilian and Nickolas’ amusement, Monsignor Horatio’s protégé, Basil, is openly disgruntled.

  For the Bright Star reception, the Leonardo Society has engaged the Fort Rimon Art Museum. Filled to capacity, the elegant blue and white edifice is a third the size of its Crevasse City counterpart. The Bright Star members are but half of those in attendance. Almost every ranked member of the Leonardo Society is present, along with the most senior members of the local Matahorn and Serengeti interests. Another score of seigneurs from Fortuna’s most prominent commercial interests mingle eagerly with the Bright Star seigneurs. The SEV1 launch into the beaconless expanse is two years hence. Numerous commercial ventures have already approached the consortium for opportunity to participate in the development of the Thirteenth System.

  Released by milord soon after arrival, Lilian joined Fletcher and Nickolas to mingle. Abandoned by Fletcher and Mayling, Lilian and Nickolas join Declan Red-Eagle, Monsignor Angus’ protégé. No taller than Lilian and built along slender lines, Declan’s dark brown hair has distinctive red highlights that work well with hazel eyes in a burnished copper face. His broad features and blade of a nose could make the face harsh were it not for the wide mouth given to smiles. Commissioned as an SEV1 engineer, Declan is delighted with the opportunity to further his acquaintance with Nickolas.

  Easing her way out of the conversation, Lilian catches sight of a display of Ancients’ artifacts. It includes a small medallion similar in style to the one she discovered on Rimon deuce. The one in the case is a more modern find than hers, dated to two centuries before the Anarchy, rather than the millennium before the Anarchy of Lilian’s find. Most intriguingly, it is from Socraide Prime in the First System. For all Lilian’s ire with Andreas Chiang, she briefly regrets she cannot discuss the potential meaning of this find with him. As a master scholar of Ancients Studies on Mulan, she is certain that he will be aware of this artifact and have a theory as to why two such similar objects would have been used in both the First and Second Systems over a period of centuries.

  “Have you an interest in the Ancients, Mistress Lilian?” Basil Vylasi interrupts her pondering. Above average height, the protégé sports the broad shoulders and well-muscled build admired by the warrior class. His narrow, severe features are set with light brown eyes, and his close-cropped dark brown hair holds a slight wave. With an inward smile, Lilian determines that given any length it will be curly, ruining the serious impression the young man wishes to make.

  Horatio Margovian’s new protégé bears no physical resemblance to his last—Damien St. Gervais, once Lilian’s lover and later a man whose intrigue could have cost Lilian her life. Knowing it unreasonable to taint Basil by association, Lilian enters into a discussion of Ancients hunting, finding Basil surprisingly well versed in the topic.

  Accompanying Basil into one of the refreshment chambers, Lilian discovers Monsignor Angus and Master Associate Aidan, the Leonardo propulsion engineer designing the SEV1 engines. Lilian is delighted to renew her acquaintance with the brilliant engineer, who has always shown her the utmost courtesy. When the conversation veers into Vistrite configurations for the SEV1 propulsion systems, Basil politely retreats. The conversation does not last long; Lilian can reveal little in what is naught better than a public thoroughfare, compelling them to schedule further discussion when they can convene within the Leonardo Society.

  From there, the conversation moves to neutral topics, including the art museum’s collection, Lilian’s impressions of Fortuna, and even Adelaide’s Discipline. It is one of several conversations over the course of the evening focused on the martial arts of Lilian’s obscure sect. The festival brawl visuals have made their way to the Fourth System.

  In an area the size of the art museum, it is impossible to keep milord in sight for the entire time, nor is it expected. As the latest discussion of Adelaide’s Discipline reaches a natural pause, Lilian makes her excuses. Her goals are the freshening closet and then to locate milord. The first accomplished, the second goal proves more elusive. Eventually, Lilian locates milord near a rather garish example of Fortuna water art, immersed in conversation with Monsignor Horatio and a lovely blonde woman Lilian does not recognize. Dressed in a clingy silk knit, the woman’s provocative stance indicates she is more than willing to engage milord in matters other than commerce. Finding a position near the entryway, Lilian waits for milord’s will. She is well within milord’s sight. If milord does not acknowledge her in a few minutes, Lilian will rejoin the reception.

  “I will not have it.” Harsh, angry tones have Lilian turning toward the source, her hand reaching for the absent thorn. Seigneur Fenrir, a bulky man in his late seventies, stalks into the chamber with another man in tow. Ire written in the deepening grooves that run from the pronounced nose to the edges of the thin-lipped mouth, Fenrir’s small black eyes meet Lilian’s and a flash of something akin to hunger replaces the ire.

  The planet shifts beneath Lilian’s feet. There is something familiar and frightening about the Matahorn seigneur. I am the sum of my ancestors. Fenrir’s gaze shifts away. Milord. Lilian’s eyes lock on milord and the planet rights its course. Milord beckons. Eagerly, Lilian steps forward, moving in a wide arc as she realizes that Fenrir has joined Monsignor Horatio in a hushed conversation.

  With a great deal of relief, Lilian follows at milord’s left shoulder while milord bids polite farewell to Angus and hastens to the transport.

  Engaging the privacy screen, Lucius immediately pulls Lilian into his lap, plundering her mouth while his hands explore her exposed back and the shoulder blades that have tantalized him all evening. Nor has Lucius been alone in his fascination. He noted more than one man slip a hand into his pocket while engaged with his lovely conservator.

  It is not that Lilian’s attire is unusually enticing. There were a number of women wearing provocative and revealing knits, including the blonde seigneur from Matahorn and Serengeti’s Seigneur Gwyneth. It was seeing the reserved Raven free of her commercial armor that gave rise to interest. It is all Lucius can do to control his impatience as George checks the security of the private transport bay and escorts them into the riser. Ignoring the Blooded Dagger guard standing at attention outside his suite, Lucius all but drags Lilian within.

  As the door to his chamber slides open, Lucius pulls Lilian back into his arms, once again, taking her mouth with his. With one determined hand, he pushes the gold skirt up her hips to confirm what Lucius suspected. Lilian’s lingerie daring had extended only so far; silk and lace shield her sex.

  Propelling Lilian forward onto the bed, Lucius peels away the fragile silk barrier. In another moment, the skirt is sliding across her hips and discarded. It is the work of an instant to release the fasteners of the beaded top. A quick tug pulls it free.

  Lilian starts to move. Lucius puts one hand on the small of her back. Lilian is to stay as he placed her. Lucius widens her legs, opening her to his gaze while he disrobes. The elegant mounds of her ass part to reveal the dark and mysterious crease and the flushed cleft below. Sending questing fingers into that rosy and trembling crevasse, Lucius finds it slick and welcoming.

  Lilian bites her lips and holds her breath against the erotic contact as milord explores her swelling flesh. Milord releases her. Swallowing a protest, Lilian commands her breath to be even.

  Lilian hears the soft sounds of milord disrobing, then feels the shifting of the bed as milord joins her. Milord’s hands stroke along her thighs, molding her buttocks. One hand slips between her legs and finds her sex. Warm breath washes over her spine, followed by teeth that assault the mounds of her buttocks and linger on Socraide’s Kiss.

  Lilian’s discipline collapses under the sensual onslaught. Shifting beneath milord, Lilian widens her thighs an
d tilts her hips in invitation. Milord accepts the invitation with a guttural sound of pleasure. Milord’s nibbling teeth and teasing fingers contract muscles and tighten Lilian deep inside. With a soft whimper, Lilian shifts against the caresses that are bringing her nearly painful arousal.

  With a satisfied masculine sound, part growl and part chuckle, milord urges Lilian onto her back. Legs falling wide of their own volition, Lilian feels the tormenting lips and teeth grazing and taunting her sex before working their way up her body to breasts desperate for the attention.

  Her hands tangle in milord’s hair before they move lower to explore his shoulders and back. The hard tug of milord’s mouth on her breast drives Lilian to buck against milord’s body. Her thighs graze the hard length of milord’s erection. In response to her beseeching movements and small moans, two fingers enter her swollen chamber. A thumb works her jewel, dragging forth moans that quickly turn to entreaty. “Please, milord, please.”

  At the sound of Lilian’s desperation, Lucius ceases his play. He yields to his own surging desire, driving deep into her. Hot, warm, wet, tight, her sex clamps down on him as Lilian’s legs wrap about Lucius’ waist and she rises to meet his thrusts. At the incredible pleasure, Lucius’ vision turns red and his sack pulls tight to his groin.

  The hard length of milord inside her excites Lilian beyond thought, making her wild to take all milord has to give. Milord’s urgent rhythm increases in speed and power as milord reaches for his pleasure, pushing Lilian to shattering, shuddering completion.

  »◊«

  “Did you find aught of interest?” Lucius smiles down at Lilian, his question deliberately ambiguous. She appears delightfully bemused and sated, with swollen lips and slumberous eyes. Something wanton flickers in her eyes, quickly repressed. Whatever her naughty thought, she halted it before it left her lips. One day, she will slip. Lilian is always so unguarded and forthcoming after passion.