***
Dormant emotions? Jude glanced over to Zieja again. That was...intriguing.
Jude winced as Rene slit the assassin’s throat. It was brutal and effective. At least it was quick, and would bring some good if it brought back the kid.
Or was Jude just rationalizing?
Jude grabbed the assassin’s body by the collar of his armor and dragged him along with them. He moved to the right door, following Max and the others to go confront Vigo the Fin and save Alex and Nadine.
Lights swirled, and there was a bright flash…
***
The lights swirled above Jude as he spun the beautiful brunette around the dance floor. What was her name? Mindy. The daughter of a lower level functionary, but someone still placed higher than Jude, someone who could be a potential benefactor.
And Jude needed a patron to remain at court. He could afford to schmooze with a beautiful daughter while he kept his eye out for a greater prize.
The music ended and Mindy laughed. Jude smiled and brushed back a lock of her hair.
“I am going to steal a kiss now,” he told her.
“Are you?” she asked coyly at the young functionary.
Jude just smiled and leaned in.
Then he froze, his eyes staring beyond her.
Mindy frowned.
“Jude?” When he didn’t respond, she turned her head and huffed.
A tall, broad man in a Navy uniform had entered. He was big, and seemed fit enough, though his white hair, moustache, and mutton chop sideburns showed his age nearer to seventy. He was hale and hearty, though, and his chest was covered in decorations.
But that wasn’t who Jude was staring at. At the old officer’s side was a woman of exquisite beauty. Red-gold ringlets of silken hair glistened in the lights of the dance floor, framing a face of pale, flawless skin, emerald eyes, and full, red lips. She shape of her face was perfection itself. Her gown was of a shimmering scarlet silk that matched her hair, the bodice enticing, provocative, but not showing too much, an emerald on a gold chain nestled between those perfect, creamy pale breasts, the dress hugging the curve of her body down the full skirt, flaring at her trim hips, slits all the way up the sides of the skirt, revealing long, lean legs ending in elegant stiletto heels.
“Jude!” Mindy gave him a slap.
Jude blinked, rubbing his cheek and glaring at her.
“What was that for?” he snapped at her.
“For staring at that French hussy!”
“French?” Jude asked, his eyes instinctively going to the woman again. She was talking with the old man, quiet, demure.
The music started again, and Mindy tugged Jude to her.
“Sorry, love,” Jude apologized, disentangling from his partner.
“Why don’t you go...powder your nose,” he said, leaving her alone on the dance floor.
Mindy stamped her foot in disgust and anger. Her heel snapped, sending her tumbling to the dance floor.
Jude didn’t even notice. He followed the man he now knew was Governor-General Alphonse Beauregard into the room off the ballroom where tables for friendly gaming had been set. The return of the retired admiral from Baton Rouge and head of the Coalition Navy to Chicago to take up a position on the Emperor’s War Council had been the talk of the court for months. This was his first public appearance. So who was the exquisite angel in his retinue?
Jude scanned the tables in the gambling suite. He saw the Governor-General taking a seat at one, the woman taking a seat on the couch behind him, and other functionaries standing nearby. Jude hurried over, grabbing the mint julep from a tray held by the imperial servant on his way to bring the Governor-General his favorite drink. When the young man protested, Jude hip-checked him into another table, forcing him to have to deal with irate courtiers with spilled chips and cards.
“Governor-General! Welcome to Chi-Town!” Jude said, putting the man’s drink down with a flourish.
“I believe mint julep is your prefered cocktail.”
Alphonse harrumphed. He picked up the drink and sipped it, then raised a bushy white eyebrow and looked up at the young man.
“May I?” Jude asked, gesturing to an empty chair at the table.
“Do you have the stakes?” one man asked.
“And what are the stakes?”
Jude paled only slightly at the answer. He looked past the Governor-General to the beautiful woman on the couch. She had pulled out a small book. She could read? Amazing! Jude’s estimation for the woman rose.
“I have the stake,” Jude assured them, pulling out a credstick. It held his entire savings, all the credits he had ever owned in his life. It would just make the amount.
The Governor-General gestured to the seat.
“Thank you, sir!” Jude slid into the seat with the group of much older men, and one older woman. He flashed her his most winning smile. Her lips curled up a bit in amusement.
Someone put a glass of scotch at Jude’s elbow. He sipped it. Exquisite. Certainly better than anything he could afford in his life.
“Game is seven card Lonestar Hold ‘Em,” the man to Jude’s left said, shuffling the card.
“Gentlemen’s rules.”
Jude nodded, focusing himself. It was difficult, though, with the red beauty over the Governor-General’s shoulder.
The cards, the credits, and the scotch flowed freely. Jude didn’t decently. These men weren’t the professionals that Jude was. He almost didn’t have to look at his hole cards to read their bluffs. He didn’t even need to cheat. But it wouldn’t do to fleece one of the most powerful men in the Coalition.
The deck came around to Jude again. He showed off his remarkable card shuffling skills.
“Governor-General, would care to make this even more interesting?”
The bushy white eyebrow went up again.
“How do ya mean, Mr. Maverick?”
“Please, call me Jude,” the young man said with that winning smile. He cut open one of the fine cigars on the table and lit it before handing it to the Governor-General.
“I find myself in need of a position at court. You have just arrived, and likely will need someone who knows their way around. I think we can have a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
The Governor-General’s blue eyes narrowed.
“How old are you, young man? Eighteen?”
“Nineteen, sir,” Jude said confidently.
“Graduated in the top ten in my cadet class, sir.”
“And why are you in the bureaucratic corps and not the military?”
Jude never lost a beat.
“I couldn’t do the pull ups, sir.”
Laughter echoed around the table, and even Beauregard’s moustache lifted a bit.
“But fear not, sir! My parents have done right by the Coalition. My sister looks to be graduating top of her class in the military cadets. She is aiming to be a SAMAS pilot.” Jude started dealing the cards, just between them.
“Alas, someone needs to push the papers, sir. I suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous paper cuts in the service of our great Coalition and the campaign against the noxious D-Bees that infect this planet.”
“It is more likely that Mr. Maverick's reputation among the eligible ladies of court had something to do with his lack of position,” the woman at the table said.
One of the men laughed.
“So more a situation of getting into bed with the wrong people?”
More guffaws of laughter.
“I will admit I have a weakness for the fairer sex,” Jude countered smoothly.
“But behind every powerful man, is a powerful woman who aids him.” His eyes flicked to the woman in scarlet, and her lips actually turned up slightly in a smile.
Elated, Jude flashed a smile to the woman at the table, causing the matron to flush and call for drinks.
Alphonse harrumphed again and peeked at his hole cards.
Jude smiled, and his eyes darted over the Governor-General’s shoulder to the lady in red. Her book was in her lap, and she seemed to be paying attention with interest. Jude raised an eyebrow. That was unexpected. This whole time she had been engrossed in her book, seemingly bored with the goings on of old men at cards.
“I bet five thousand.”
Jude swallowed a bit. He needed to focus. This might be the most important game of his life. If he failed here, he risked getting banished to the outer reaches of Coalition power to languish in obscurity. So he made a bold play.
“I won’t look at my cards.”
Alphonse harrumphed and lifted his bushy eyebrows.
“Excuse me.”
“I think I can beat you without knowing what my hole cards are.” Jude stacked his two unseen cards and slid them across the table.
“Perhaps your...assistant can hold them?”
Beauregard glanced over at the lady in red. She lifted a perfect, red eyebrow and studied Jude. Then she leaned forward to retrieve the cards.
Jude tried not to stare at her decolletage. This close, he could see the small smattering of cute freckles that dusted across the pale skin of her nose and breasts.
The Governor-General chuckled and looked at his hole cards again, and then studied the cards on the table.
“It is still your bet, young suh.”
Jude swallowed.
“All in,” he said. He tossed back the last of his scotch. He might as well go into obscurity destitute and creditless.
“Those are some serious stakes, suh.”
“That just shows how serious I am, sir.”
“Bold. I like boldness.”
“I know, sir.”
Another arched, bushy brow.
“Like I said, I know the court, movers, shakers, ins and outs, what gets people to do what you want, buttons to push, levers to pull, and favors to trade. I just need the proper patron to utilize my gifts.”
Beauregard pulled a credstick out of his vest pocket and tossed it on the table.
“And how do you expect to beat me without knowing your cards?”
“I just have to know you don’t have anything,” Jude said with a grin.
“And I don’t think you do.”
Beauregard’s eyes narrowed. He reached out and slowly flipped his cards.
“Jacks and Eights.”
Jude nodded, his fingers tapping a staccato out on the table. He looked up as the scarlet woman rose. She leaned over, flipping the first card.
“King of Diamonds. Possible royal flush, ya lucky bastard.” Beauregard chuckled.
“But only if ya can score the Queen.”
Jude smiled, his heart racing.
“Don’t worry, sir. I never have a problem with the ladies.”
Alphonse nodded to the scarlet woman. She turned over the last card. A Queen!
“Of Hearts!” the Governor-General laughed, slapping the table.
“So close, lad!”
Jude nodded. He stood up and tugged his jacket straight.
“Thank you for your consideration, sir.” Jude extended his hand, and Beauregard shook it with a mighty grip.
Jude leaned over and picked up the Queen of Hearts.
“As I said, I never have a problem getting the ladies.” He smiled, his eyes darting to the woman in scarlet as he tucked the Queen carefully into his breast pocket before turning and walking away. He kept his shoulders straight. He wouldn’t show just how defeated he was.
“I will take ‘im.” A delicate, accented voice cut through the chatter of stuffy aristocracy.
Jude’s step slowed until he stopped, turning around. He met the emerald eyes of the scarlet woman as she stared directly at him.
“What?” Beauregard harrumphed.
“I will take ‘im. On my staff.” Her eyes pulled away from Jude, and he felt as if the sun had gone out.
“‘e eez right. I am new to zhe court. I do not know eets ways. I weesh ‘im to advise me.”
Beauregard looked between them and shrugged his broad shoulders.
“Do what you wish,” he said, sitting down again.
The woman nodded. She walked toward Jude with a sharp clip. He drank in every sinuous movement of her body, the shimmer of the dress over her curves. He felt as if his knees would no longer support him, but would only bend so he could kneel before this goddess in worship.
“Michelle Saint-Germaine,” the woman said, holding out her hand, encased in scarlet silk.
Jude blinked, staring at her, tongue stumbling for words.
She lifted a delicate red eyebrow.
Jude swallowed and took the hand, bending over it, kissing it.
“It is my honor.”
She smiled, pleased.
“Come. We retire for evening. I grow bored.”
Jude stared as Michelle Saint-Germaine turned sharply for the door. Several of the functionaries behind the Governor-General came off the wall and fell in behind her. Jude hurried after, falling into line with them, very conscious of every movement of Michelle in that dress. Jude didn’t think he ever touched the floor the entire trip back to the Governor-General’s quarters.
***
Jude’s steps weren’t so light as he stumbled out into the darkened air of Gloom. He staggered, falling to his knees. His face was wet. Why was his face wet? He reached up, touching tears on his cheeks.
“Michelle…” he murmured.
***
Conditions: