Vanessa opened the door to find an empty hallway. Rimush followed her out.

  “Where did the Chief Minister go?”

  “Thomas must have gone to announce our engagement to the court. We should give him a toq or two so as not to embarrass the old man.”

  “But how would he know?”

  Vanessa gave Rimush an impatient look. “He was listening through the door, you dullard.”

  So much for privacy, Rimush thought. “Would her highness care to lead me along the scenic route back to the court?”

  “I have a better idea.”

  -

  Rimush and Vanessa stood in the darkened balcony looking over the great hall. King Alexander and Emperor Dren now arguing over a scroll with several notes written over it.

  “What sort of ceasefire would permit continued raids?”

  “Raids are not a military action. My people expect to be able to make their living.”

  “Then let them farm!”

  “You can have a small number of state sanctioned raids in your protectorates, or we will both have piracy.”

  “What could possibly make up for this…legalized robbery you would have me agree to?”

  Dren scribbled some notes of a piece of paper. “Visthan and nomadic freighters with clearance to sell in Raleighan territory, protected…at a twenty five percent tariff.”

  “Twenty five percent!?”

  Vanessa whispered to Rimush without turning to face him. “It seems they’ve made some progress. We moved on from chairs to taxes.”

  Rimush turned to Vanessa. “Shouldn’t we go down there, princess?”

  “Yes, I suppose the old elf has had time enough. Let us head down.”

  The two left the balcony.

  Dren continued the negotiation. Waving away the king’s concerns with a gesture of his arms. “The people on Hattusa and the other inner worlds will pay it. They have the credits.”

  “This is madness! I will sanction no raids of any kind in Visthan space, protectorate space, anywhere!”

  “How many raids do any of those protectorate worlds even get from Raleigh?”

  “Even once is too many times. My ships will shoot on site in neutral space if it spots a raiding party.”

  “Then we’re back to war.”

  Thomas slowly approached the table. “Your majesty, your eminence. I beg your pardons. There is news.”

  The two leaders turned to the old elf and yelled in unison. “What!?”

  “Oh…we really should have the Lord Steward announce this.” Thomas waved at the elf. “Come! Come!”

  Alexander, heart rate already elevated, grew even more impatient. “Thomas, I would know the meaning of this interruption quickly.”

  Thomas whispered into the Lord Steward’s ear before walking off the side of the great hall to stand at attention. The Lord Steward made a complicated gesture with his arms to the court musicians, as if conducting an orchestra. He took a spot just in front of the bottom step of the throne. “The crown princess of Vistha, Vanessa Varygoff, has accepted a proposal for marriage. Her highness is to be wed to Rimush, prince of Raleigh.”

  The trumpets blared the Visthan national anthem just as Vanessa and Rimush arrived at the bottom of the staircase in the great hall.

  Rimush winced at the loud trumpets. “This is…”

  “Mortifying, yes. Stiff upper snout. Follow me.”

  The two walked toward the negotiating table as the court’s applause cut through the trumpets. They stood at the side of the table as their fathers rose.

  Dren gave his son a look of bemused approval but remained silent. The king, however, did not. “It’s hardly been any time at all. You’ve agreed already?”

  “Your majesty, my final decision will come at the conclusion of our courtship, but I am satisfied enough for now to accept the proposal.” Vanessa gave a small curtsy. “The prince may serve well as my king.”

  “That remains to be seen.” Alexander turned to Dren. “Whatever show the young prince here put on today may have been enough to impress my daughter, but the marriage is not finalized until the wedding. At any point during the next half nanoquad, the crown princess may reject the proposal.”

  “As may the prince.” Dren starred down the king. “But let’s not spoil this day for our children. We should be celebrating.”

  “And the treaty?”

  “As you said, we have half a nanoquad before the wedding is finalized. Let my Magi and your,” Dren gestured, “old elf negotiate the particulars. Our time is too valuable to argue any longer.”

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  “Well I never…” Thomas muttered to himself.

  “Lord Steward,” Vanessa turned to the statuesque elf, “have a feast prepared for tonight. With a broadcast crew.”

  “Immediately, your highness.” The Lord Stewart moved quickly toward the great hall’s entrance and disappeared down the hall.

  “Well your majesty,” Dren grabbed Rimush by the shoulder, “I think it’s as good a time as any for us to step out. We will return for the banquet in my son’s honor.”

  “You would do well to stay within the garden walls, Dren. My people may need some time to adjust to…your son.”

  “Understood, we will return in half a pico or whenever we smell food.” Dren began walking, hand still firmly gripping Rimush’s shoulder and dragging him along.

  Once they were out of earshot and scent of any guard elves in the garden, Dren finally released his son’s shoulder. “Alright son, you have to tell me. How’d a pup with no real experience manage to woo a Visthan in record time?”

  Rimush mumbled, “I have some experience.” His tail drooped.

  “You’re not fooling anyone kid, I already had my first litter of pups at your age. Had to make your first mother an honest bitch in a hurry when we found out, too. Now, how did you do it.”

  Rimush shrugged. “We mostly talked politics. Argued a bit. I think she just needs an excuse to leave Palid.”

  “So what, anyone would do?”

  “Well, no. She vetted me a bit. I guess she finds me agreeable enough.”

  “‘Agreeable enough.’ My boy, modesty does not suit a king. You’ve exceeded my expectations!”

  “So the treaty talks?”

  “Completely inconsequential. The Magi will figure it out.”

  Rimush felt a bit of pity for Taru, which instantly evaporated after remembering his last conversation with the Magi. “So, what now?”

  “Now? We eat, get just shy of belligerently drunk, and set off on our ways.”

  “Ways? Plural?”

  Dren sighed. “You know what we came here to do, Rimush. You belong to that elf now. After the feast, you two will be off on that courtship for half a nanoquad.”

  “Starting tonight?”

  “A bit rushed, yes. But better to start sooner than give them time to have second thoughts. From then on, it all rides on you to keep the girl captivated.”

  “Well, I suppose the princess will be happy to leave sooner than later. She’s bent on some expedition to find something, but won’t tell me what.”

  “Well, then you know what to do, at least. A lot easier than what your mothers put me through.”

  The two walked the gardens

  “So these elves. They eat meat, right?”

  “At least some do. But I think it might be a lower class thing. I didn’t think to ask.”

  “Concerning…” Dren muttered. “I suppose I’ll have to settle for more drinks then.”

  -

  A large set of tables were set across the castle’s rear gardens. On a large elevated platform nearest the castle sat the royal family, Dren, and Rimush. Rimush and Vanessa sat in the center, Dren on Rimush’s right, Alexander on Vanessa’s left, and the twelve Varygoff princes split evenly at the ends of the table.

  All save Alexander served large horns of wine. The elves were served diced frits drizzled with honey and sugar for their appetizer. Dren’s mood immediately improved when two cloches arrived, and opened to reveal small roast birds. The eldest Varygoff prince, sat to Dren’s right, immediately regretted the accommodation as Dren inadvertently elbowed him with the ends of his bronze vambraces as he ate.

  Sat beneath the royalty were all members of the court with their families, administrators, and well connected business elves. Rimush could immediately see the stratification of elf society by seeing the see of tattooed blue skin cutting down the middle of the crowd with little mixing between the three groups. At the far end were broadcast crews with cameras, permitted a passive audience to the festivities.

  Vanessa whispered into Rimushe’s ear. “When the time comes, speak deliberately, and face the broadcast crew without turning your head. They won’t be able to record you otherwise.”

  “I have to speak?”

  “Just a short statement. Try not to embarrass the court. They will understand if you stick to galactic trade language.”

  “As opposed to?”

  “This is Palid. We speak elvish.”

  “Oh…” Rimush felt a bit self conscious. He hadn’t even thought to pick up any language beyond galactic trade.

  The main courses were served. Elves received well oiled and seasoned roasted squash, eggplant, and potatoes. The two Raleighans were served heavily salted smoked mutton, reconstituted with generous portions of oil in a stew with carrots and potatoes. Rimush found it too salty, but continued to eat at the prodding of his now marginally inebriated father.

  “The wine helps it go down, boy. Now don’t be rude.”

  Rimush turned to the princess. “I can’t help but notice the difference between our meals.”

  “Meat isn’t very popular among the nobility, but the commoners enjoy it. We get the preserved mutton from the nomads. I’m told it’s an…acquired taste.”

  “So, I’m eating like the common folk?”

  “While the rest of us eat like nobility, yes. Would you prefer the squash?”

  “Not…particularly…”

  “Wait, that gives me an idea.” Vanessa forked a slice of potato and shoved it into Rimush’s mouth without warning while smiling for the cameras. “To give the commoners something to chew on, so to speak.”

  Rimush coughed a bit trying to swallow. “Some warning, princess, would have been nice.”

  “But not spontaneous. Now be the big friendly commoner’s dog and enjoy your commoner’s meal.”

  Rimush took a long swig of his horn before continuing into his stew.

  After the conclusion of the main course, the plates were taken away. Vanessa stood at the table to wave at the crowd. A well practiced smile on her face. She turned her head to face the camera. And spoke in elvish.

  “Today, I have accepted a proposal for marriage from Prince Rimush of Raleigh. After our many correspondences over subspace communications the last three nanoquads, I am happy to report that all of our mutual feelings have only magnified as we met in person. Rimush could not contain himself, and proposed right on the spot. I of course accepted.” She grabbed Rimush’s hand.

  Dren stifled a laugh.

  “Your eminence, do you understand elvish?”

  “Yes, but there’s no need. It’s all a load of smeg, and it’s frankly impressive how she doesn’t choke on it. Smile and wave, boy.”

  Rimush waved to the cameras. Vanessa switched to perfect Raleighan. “And to all my future Raleighan friends and allies in the inner radius of the quadrant. I hope our love can be an example for you all. Proof that our peoples can unite in a peaceful coexistence. We have much to learn from each other.”

  Vanessa finished in galactic trade. “Our courtship will last half a nanoquad. After which we will return to celebrate my thirtieth nanoquad of age, and the coronation of myself and our new king. Prince Rimush, if you would be so kind as to speak to our peoples.”

  Vanessa guided Rimush up by his hand and subtly nodded her head at the broadcast crew. Rimush spoke. “I, uh, came to finally meet Princess Varygoff in person. And her grace and, uh, beauty struck me. I proposed and she said yes. Thank you.” Rimush sat back down.

  Vanessa waved to the crowd, triggering an applause. She sat. The broadcast crew packed up and left as dessert was served. Fresh berries for the elves. A tray of devilled eggs made its way to the head table, which Dren inhaled immediately.

  Rimush sat in silence with his drink, contemplating the next day.