Sacrifice

Chapter 11 - The Invitation

Bhirdan impatiently tapped the edge of his datapad. He hadn't even changed from his Katara gear before flinging himself behind his desk. Unlike most players, his opponent this morning, the son of the Duke of Port Donavan, didn't care about his title and had made him work damned hard for his victory, slight as it may have been. Scrolling down the page, he inspected a number of new Katara racquets that had yet to be placed on the market. A silver and blue one tempted him for a moment, but then he scowled and tossed the entire document, order form and all, in the trash.

It wasn't the racquet that was the problem. It was the fact that he had spent most of his time on the court looking into the crowd to see if the young Kalli al Aratina had arrived. He'd been so distracted that he had scarcely noticed the position or the colour of the Katara ball.

The question circling his mind was why? He'd spent half of the debutant ball dancing with Kalli; any other young lady would be stuck to his side when he returned to the capital in the hopes that his momentary infatuation would lead to a hasty marriage.

Finally, he opened the message function of his datapad and with a grim smile began to dictate.

"To Lady Kallistrate al Aratina, Daughter of Lord Hummad dir Liran Chancellor of City Oversight. I would be most honoured if you would accompany me on an outing since I was not able to further make you acquaintance at the Katara match between myself and my honoured adversary ...

# # #

"... I await your reply. Crown Prince Bhirdan dir Hammir, Duke of Wessinton, Lord of the Southern Colonies and General of the Imperial Space Expedition."

Kalli waited for the recording to come to an end. Finally, she looked up at her father who paced her sitting room in short quick strides.

"What were you thinking being absent from the Crown Prince's match?" he demanded. "The Crown Prince is not the sort of man who appreciates a game of hard to catch. He has his pick of more beautiful and better connected young ladies than you. If you know what is best for this family, you'll make yourself a permanent fixture at his side."

"But-"

Kalli's father wheeled around at her slight protest and came a couple of steps closer to the settee where she sat.

"But what?" he demanded.

Kalli fiddled with the pleat in her dress and did her best to keep her father's gaze. "He's awfully boring ... and ... dull."

Kalli had meant to use a stronger set of adjectives. Egotistical playboy whose level of intelligence was similar to that of a sea slug came to mind, but the way her father had gone crimson at the word boring had made her change direction.

He leaned over her, placing one hand on either side of her so she had nowhere to go.

"I don't give a rat's ass if he's duller than a rag picker. You'll do your utmost to remain his favoured courtier. If that means he's looking for a wife, you press for marriage; if he's looking for a distraction at night instead of a cold bed, you'd best make sure you please him."

Kalli paled at the implication of her father's words. "I would rather rot in hell," she whispered back.

Her father didn't get angrier; he became dead calm.

"I haven't spent two decades trying to even the score between me and my family to have my greatest victory destroyed by your whims and wants."

Kalli had to look away.

"Look at me," her father barked.

Her eyes returned to his face without her consent.

"You're the reason I have no other daughters to forge alliances with or a son for an heir. You're the reason I've never dared to remarry. And by the gods, you will do as I tell you. Do you understand me?"