Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 75260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“First Minister,” I managed, my voice steadier than I expected. “I am honored by your welcome.”
Something flickered in Havelorn’s eyes—amusement, perhaps, or satisfaction. “The honor is ours, Viola. Your presence here represents a significant moment in our relationship with the Magisterian Federation.”
I noticed then that slightly behind the row of men stood several women, each dressed in modest gowns of pale blue. Their eyes were downcast, their postures perfect—shoulders back, hands clasped demurely before them. None wore collars like mine, but their subservience was unmistakable. These were the wives of the Euporian elite, and though clothed, they seemed no less owned than I was.
“Your advance staff has prepared accommodations at the new Magisterian embassy,” Havelorn continued, addressing Prince Hendren. “Tonight’s reception will formally inaugurate the diplomatic mission and celebrate our mutual commitment to rebuilding proper social order across the systems.”
Prince Hendren placed his hand on the small of my back, the touch sending an unwelcome shiver up my spine. “Excellent. Viola represents the centerpiece of our demonstration, of course.”
Centerpiece. The word made my stomach clench. My presence, naked, would show everyone exactly how much dominance the Magisterians intended to exercise throughout this quadrant of the galaxy.
“Of course,” Havelorn agreed, his gaze traveling over my naked body once more. “The Academy Mistresses are particularly interested in examining your methods. They’ve never had the opportunity to observe the reconditioning of a woman who held such… inappropriate power.”
I swallowed hard, keeping my expression neutral despite the horror creeping through me. Academy Mistresses—the women who presumably trained Euporian girls in submission. They would be studying me, analyzing my responses, perhaps even incorporating my humiliation into their curriculum.
“Shall we proceed to the embassy?” Prince Hendren suggested.
We were escorted to a sleek hover-transport waiting at the edge of the landing pad. I followed Prince Hendren inside, keenly aware of my bare skin against the plush seating. The Euporian officials joined us, arranging themselves with practiced formality. Their wives entered last, sitting beside their husbands with perfect, silent grace.
As the transport glided through the streets of Euporia Central, I kept my eyes lowered, but couldn’t resist occasional glances at the city passing by. The orderliness I’d observed from above was even more striking at ground level. Every building, every garden, every public space adhered to a precise aesthetic. Citizens moved with purpose, men in tailored suits with clean lines, women in modest dresses of varying pastel hues. The transport’s windows were transparent from the inside, but opaque from the outside, sparing me the additional humiliation of being seen by the general population—at least for now.
“Remarkable, isn’t it?” First Minister Havelorn said, noticing my furtive glances. “The Good Way provides structure that benefits everyone. Men lead, women support. Each understands their natural role.”
“Indeed,” Prince Hendren agreed. “The chaos that consumed other systems during the Vionian revolt never touched Euporia.”
“Because we maintained proper order,” Havelorn replied. “When women attempt to usurp male authority—” his gaze flicked meaningfully to me “—society inevitably collapses.”
I kept my face carefully blank, though inside I seethed. Artemisia had prospered under my leadership. Our economic indicators had risen steadily, our social welfare programs had been the envy of neighboring systems. It wasn’t equality that had destroyed us, but the Magisterian invasion that followed the revolt.
“Your thoughts, Viola?” Prince Hendren prompted, his tone deceptively casual. “You seem… contemplative.”
I recognized the trap immediately. Any defense of Artemisia’s former government would be seen as defiance, earning me punishment later. But complete agreement would be a betrayal of everything I had once stood for.
“I’m… processing the differences between Euporian society and what I knew before, Your Highness,” I answered carefully.
“And?” he pressed.
I swallowed hard. “I’m learning that… perhaps there is wisdom in the natural order that I failed to recognize.”
The words tasted like ash in my mouth, but they seemed to satisfy both men. Prince Hendren’s hand squeezed my thigh in approval, while Havelorn nodded sagely.
“The Federation’s re-education methods are impressively effective,” Havelorn observed. “How long has she been under your… instruction?”
“Barely a week,” Prince Hendren replied, his pride evident. “Viola was quite resistant initially. But the body knows what the mind denies.”
One of the Euporian wives shifted slightly at this, her eyes darting up briefly before returning to her lap. I caught her gaze in that fleeting moment—something like sympathy, or perhaps recognition, passed between us.
The transport slowed as we approached a striking edifice of white stone and blue glass—the new Magisterian embassy. Unlike the rigid symmetry of the surrounding Euporian architecture, the building incorporated subtle curves and organic elements that marked it as distinctly Magisterian. The contrast was deliberate, I realized—a visual reminder of Magisterian dominance, even here.
“Your staff has prepared the Grand Hall for tonight’s reception,” Havelorn said as the transport came to a stop. “Two hundred of Euporia’s most influential citizens will attend.”
CHAPTER 4
Hendren
I had expected only a moderate level of hospitality from the staff of this brand new embassy, but, as often, the resources of the Federation surprised even me. The sheer opulence of the reception exceeded even my royal standards. Two hundred of the Euporian elite mingled throughout the gorgeous Grand Hall, in groups that somehow looked like military formations, men in formal attire on one side of the aisle, their wives in modest blue gowns on the other—a living tableau of their fascinating ‘Good Way.’