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“Your fault, not ours,” Geoff quipped
“Touché. Allow a girl her romantic notions of what being King is all about.”
“Do go on. I really must hear this.”
“Well, first, a King defines and defends the limits of his Kingdom. Inherent within that is the understanding of what isdefensible. Second, he takes stock of all the resources available to him within his realm; real and personal, animal, vegetable, mineral, and so on. Once he has compiled his ‘Domesday Book’, he lends order to it, organizing his resources to The Realm’s best advantage. He leads by example, not decree. He consults with his Ministers, yet allows them to do their jobs. He is friend to kings and commoners alike. Most importantly, he is an inspiration to his people, making them proud of whom they are, yet determined to make themselves better still, in his image.”
Geoff did his best to stifle a smile.
“Well, youdid warn me you were ‘out of the loop’; a good three to four hundred years out, or thereabouts. I rather liked the ‘inspiration’ part. And weare expected to set an example. Living up to that, under constant scrutiny, is the most difficult part. As for the rest, I wish it were like that. You make it all sound so romantic. Well, Milady, this ‘soon-to-be-King’ considers himself blessed to share your company.”
“Thank you, Milord. This ‘lady’ feels twice-blessed, to share your company and to count you as my Champion.”
“I suspect it is more the other way ‘round, but thank you,” he offered. “So, this part-time job of yours. Does it pay well?”
“It keeps a roof over my head and the utilities on,” was her response.
She didn’t tell him about the series of ‘individual retirement accounts’ she had established under different identities, funded through creative expense reporting - another proud ‘tradition’ in weapons development and spycraft. In reality, she would never have to work again if she chose not to.
“Where would that be?” Geoff inquired.
She smiled alluringly, unclipped her hair and shook it out. The thick, wavy hair draped past her shoulder blades.
“Los Angeles. I’m a ‘California Girl’. Couldn’t you tell?”
“I should have guessed; the ubiquitous ‘six-foot blonde from Tinseltown’.”
They both laughed again. The laughter subsided, and they just gazed at one another. He broke the silence first.
“Would you be willing to consider other…opportunities?”
Giselle just stared at him for a moment. He thought he had overstepped his bounds. Then, she smiled.
“I might – if thepackage was attractive enough.”
Geoff gazed at her lips, within inches of his own.
“What would that ‘package’ have to include?”
She pressed her body against his and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Oh, I think we have most of the basics covered. We’ll just have to… hammer out the details. Hopefully, the mission won’t go to shit during the negotiations.”
*****
She soared silently through the night sky, high above the terrain. A gentle breeze provided most of the lift. She had only to flap her white-tipped wings occasionally to provide forward momentum. She extended her senses, wary of Night Stalkers or any other nocturnal threat she might not yet be aware of. If need be, she was willing to match up her beak and talons to theirs any day. Sharp eyes in her white-crested head scanned the ground below, searching for signs of Golganthan activity or anything else that might seem out-of-place. The stand of forest, starkly illuminated in the amber-tinged light, definitely fit that definition. She noted its position, vowing to return the next day. After a bit more exploration, she gracefully wheeled about and returned to the cave – and her slumbering companion.
