What Goes Around...

It’s after noon, and I’m standing on the second floor balcony of our station. Below me, in the courtyard, old man Patrick and that guy with the scar across his face are in a sparring match, wearing protective gear, pummeling eachother. There’s a small crowd of my men surrounding them, shouting, egging them on.

I take a sip of coffee. Patrick lands a nasty hit to the gut onto “Scarface”, and he drops to his knees. He surrenders. The men erupt into cheers and swarm the old geezer, high-fiving him. They all gather up and walk back into the building.

It’s nearly time for second shift. I land myself back into my office chair and scan my paperwork. The investigations into Uragas and that cultist are proceeding smoothly. We’ve identified a number of their members, where they live, and some additional crimes. Racketeering, robbery, assault, extortion. The rap sheet grows by the day.

I’m set upon by the ever-unnerving ringing of a call from Hue, in my brain.

“John, Leia is here to see you. Also, that blonde elf, Beatrix is with her, with two assistants.”

As always, I hear the knock at my office door before I can even respond. Every time, this happens.

“Enter!”

Leia and Beatrix shuffle in, holding letters. Beatrix’s two male elven assistants stand behind her. Her form, as it was the first time I met her, is seriously impressive and… well-endowed. Her dress leaves little to the imagination, flanked by her long, flowing golden blonde hair.

“How can I help you two ladies today?”

They glance at eachother. Beatrix goes first.

“John, I’m here to inform you that you’ve been invited to the Royal Gala, a yearly dance put on by the Ducal Houses. Princess Arianne has required your presence there. You’re to dress appropriately and comingle with the guests, and there will be an important meeting afterwards.”

Huh?

“Excuse me?”

“Need I repeat myself? Here is the invitation”, she glares at me, handing me the fancy royal letter.

I sink back in my chair. I hate stuff like this, but it’s even worse when it’s royalty. Well, as they say, happy wife, happy life, or rather, happy princess, long life.

I glance at Leia.

“Here’s two letters from the College. They’re not urgent, so don’t worry about them. We need to head out and get you dressed up.”

One is from the Engineering department, and one is from the Medical wing.

I haul myself up from my chair with a groan. Alright. Let’s go. I wave at Fredericus on my way out, he looks stressed out as ever, feverishly writing away at the front desk.

Leia, Beatrix and I hop into a carriage, with the two assistants riding up front. We’re driven into the city center, with its luxurious glass storefronts and perfectly manicured roads. We stop in front of a very fancy tailor’s store. Two beefy looking guards stand at the front, blocking the doorway.

The instant they see Beatrix, they bow and step aside. In we go.

This is not just a luxury store. It’s a small palace. Beautiful, spotless black marble tiling, and countless tuxedos, sport coats, and long coats dominate the room. My shoes ring, almost musically, on the tile. A wall of intricately designed ties, belts, and some luxurious shoes lit by the gentle glow of display lights jump out at me. A frail old man is behind the counter. This place is on a completely different level than where we got our uniforms.

He looks at us, but doesn’t speak. Beatrix hands him a letter that’s solid gold, not like the gold-trimmed paper one Leia had used back then. He shows no emotion, then shuffles to the back. A team of three very pretty girls come out, in maid uniforms, giggling and smiling. They zero in on me and beckon me into another room to get measurements.

For the next half hour I am barraged with the most personal, invasive questions, interrupted by giggling, along with comments about how “big” I am and how “strong” my arms are. They ask me if I’ll put them in handcuffs. I’m not usually a shy guy, but something about this caused me deep psychological embarrassment. They’re hanging all over me. What kind of guy gets used to this?

Oh… royalty. That’s who. Yuck.

After what seems like an eternity, Beatrix and Leia come in, with a range of very fancy tuxedos and long coats. They look like what an orchestra conductor would wear, a tailcoat, a beautiful textured dark blue with trimmed accents, complemented by a matching ascot tie. The maids again carry on their routine of smothering me, until Leia gives them the most intense, bloodthirsty glare I have ever seen her fire off. They instantly take it down a notch. Thank you, Leia. Thank you. I have absolutely no say in what to wear – it’s Beatrix’s decision. This was made very clear to me the first time I tried to point out a preference.

An outfit was agreed upon, and I finally got to leave this especially strange, posh store. Unlike the last tailor, this one uses magic to form-fit clothes, and he’ll work through the night just for us. I decided to take the rest of the day off and prepare myself for this upcoming nightmare. When I arrived home, Leia and Beatrix stepped off the carriage with me, to my surprise, and followed me into my house.

“We’re going to go over etiquette, now. Do exactly as I say and don’t mess up.”, Beatrix commands.

I try my best to stifle my sigh of disappointment. A few hours of intensive nitpicking over how I stand, how I walk, how to bow, how to shake hands, how to greet, how to say goodbye, then table manners, drinking etiquette, and finally an intensive class session on each of the Royal Family, what they’re like, and who to look out for.

I’m exhausted beyond belief. Eventually, they stop, and Beatrix decides to stay with us in a guest bedroom. A few smokes from my tobacco-substitute, the closest thing I could find in this new world, and some drinks later, and I’m ready for bed. I’m out cold almost as quickly as I lay down.

Leia walks down the hall and stands in front of my room, dressed in her elegant white house robe. She stares pensively at my door, reaches up as if to knock, then decides against it. I’m audibly snoring.

The night proceeds uneventfully. I’m awoken before dawn by the sound of a carriage arriving outside my house. Beatrix goes out and greets them – it’s my outfit for today. She stages it in the living room for me. I get a precious few more hours of sleep before I’m roused by a rapping knock at my door.

I barely get a chance to gulp down my coffee before Leia orders me to strip down and begins dressing me up like a mannequin. There’s so many layers. Undershirt, tuxedo shirt, waistcoat, ascot tie, and tailcoat. A fancy set of trousers, with a special pouch for my badge on the belt. Leia, from her bag, produces a small revolver and puts it into an inner pocket of my coat. It’s not the same Chief’s Special, but a compact version, no doubt designed just for this occasion.

She’s doting on me, making sure every detail is right. It’s times like this I realize how much I dislike my ex-wife. Beatrix stands there, watching me menacingly.

The event begins at noon, but doesn’t kick off until evening, hence the white-tie formal dress. With some fanfare, and a very fancy carriage, we load up and head off towards the Central Palace.

The carriage arrives at what appears to be a dead-end street, flanked on both sides by a row of knights in plate armor. As the carriage passes them, they come to attention, clanking their polearms against the ground. I poke my head out of the window. The carriage is ambling towards what appears to be a solid brick walled archway. Leia grabs my shoulder and forces me back inside. A safety measure.

A gentle wall of white light phases through the cabin of the carriage. The scene outside changes immediately, through the window. We’re on a vast, beautiful, manor road with manicured trees and fountains beside it. I once again, bravely, take a look at our surroundings.

Arianne’s palace was breathtaking. This is just ridiculous. It’s as if the entire world were a castle’s grounds. If one were to grow up here, I can only imagine their disappointment on stepping into the real world for the first time. It’s magical.

The carriage arrives in the middle of a vast, central courtyard, far away from the main palace. We all disembark. I take Leia’s hand to help her out of the carriage.

“We’re going to go get ready, we’ll come find you later. Try not to get in trouble. Go with him.”, she says, sweetly.

I turn around to see Calyx, that fiery-eyed demihuman assistant of Prince Alexander, and the Butler who saved my life when I was first brought to this world. He grins at me.

“Sir John, it’s good to see you again.”

I give him a warm embrace. I really missed this guy.

Calyx stares at me with her typical, distrustful, piercing eyes. I see her ears twitch beneath her veiled scarf. I give her a polite nod.

“Time for a tour!”, the Butler cheers. Off we go, into this vast, endless garden.