Guarded (#2 Post-Order 66 Series)

Guarded - Part 8

The black dress tunic itched. It was a beautiful garment, but impractical with all of its gold trim and dark green accenting, and not something Tech would have ever chosen to wear willingly. He supposed he should be grateful that it wasn't a floor length garment like some of the clothing that the diplomats he'd watched over the past few weeks had worn. Their robes seemed heavy and hot as he'd noted a number of them trying to inconspicuously wipe sweat from their brows, although he supposed some of that perspiration could always be attributed to Kestia. She could be very intimidating when she was in her regalia, her voice deep and authoritative as she inhabited her queen persona. He'd struggled to hide his grin when a young male politician had tried to flirtatiously manipulate her into giving him what he wanted. She'd masterfully dismembered him with her wit, sliding in one or two subtle jabs that sent him exiting the throne room with his tail between his legs.

He turned in the mirror one last time, feeling even more self-conscious as he slipped his goggles off of his face. He'd been supplied with a "less tactical" looking pair of spectacles by Kestia's stylist, and he wasn't keen on how they slipped loosely over his ears. He knew he'd likely spend twice as long pushing them back up the bridge of his nose throughout the night, but it was all part of the role he'd been asked to play. Heaving one last sigh, he stepped to the door of he and Echo's room. "Best to get this over with then," he muttered to himself, stepping out into the hall.

The whistles and catcalls from Wrecker and Echo were merciless. Even Hunter gave a whoop as he sauntered out into the sitting area. Crosshair just rolled his eyes. At least that much is normal, I suppose, Tech thought. Holding out his arms, he humored them with a spin, which only stoked their fervor.

There was a soft knock at the door. "Enter," Hunter called over his shoulder. When the door hissed open, it was as if it took all of the oxygen out of the room with it, and they all fell silent.

Kestia stood in the doorway in a dark green gown, her hair neatly braided into pleats that met in an intricate bun on the back of her head. A simple gold diadem framed her face with gold earrings to match, emeralds hanging from the end of them. Rather than the traditional red and white makeup, she only wore the Scar of Remembrance in a darker shade of lipstick than the red she normally wore, her eyes lined simply with dark shadow accenting the outer corners. The dress itself had gold embroidery on the bodice, and the deep green fabric hugged her form far more than the traditional gowns and robes that she normally wore. The sleeves and neck of the gown were a black sheer fabric, ending tightly at her wrists with a few gold rings accenting her fingers. Without her white makeup, she was unable to hide the flush in her cheeks as her eyes met Tech's. "Well, shall we...Marten?"

Tech nodded at the fake name they'd chosen for him. "If you're ready, m'lady."

"One last thing," Hunter said, stepping between them. He handed them both earpieces. Tech popped his in his ear without hesitation while Kestia rolled her eyes. "As a precaution only, m'lady. Should you see something out of sorts or if you and Tech get separated for any reason, we want to be in contact with you."

"You are all far too paranoid," she muttered.

"That's what you've hired us for, m'lady."

"No, that's what he hired you for," she said, tossing a glance back over her shoulder at Gregar, who was standing out in the hallway. "I had no say in the matter."

"Compromises, m'lady," Captain Typho said, a smirk tugging at his lips and a light scolding tone in his voice. Kestia rolled her eyes one more time before pressing the earpiece into her ear.

Tech crooked his elbow, allowing Kestia to slip her hand through, lightly resting her fingertips against his arm, and the two of them swept out into the hall with Typho and Hunter following at a distance.