Octavia Girl

Vol. II Ch. 17 - Fall For Fallcet?



Chapter 17

Fall for Fallcet?

When Fallcet arrived, Jenna saw the problem Ixy identified as soon as she saw him. He was powerfully attractive, everything she’d trained herself to want in a man back when she still lived on Earth.

Somehow, he was the personification of something Jenna had always wanted but didn’t know how to ask for. The best way to describe him was to compare him to Ryatt as he was standing next to him, and as he had suggested.

Ryatt’s hair was obviously an unnatural collection of colors. The front was dyed blond and the back was dark ash. Whether the back was dyed or not was a mystery. It was spiked in the front and mostly shaved in the back, but it worked on him. He looked the part for bare-knuckle boxing. The clothes Misha put him in were almost a military uniform. He wore a black coat with tungsten buttons, fitted trousers, and sixteen-hole black army boots. Most telling were the partial gloves he wore over the exposed bones on his knuckles. Everything about his face and the shape of his body spoke of sharpness. His muscles were hidden under his bones and he didn’t have enough body fat to hide the shape of his bones. He was the very picture of a hard man.

When she looked at him like that, she felt her insides get dizzy. She’d crush the feeling instantly, but she’d still go for another look.

Fallcet looked very natural. His hair curved in chestnut curls that made little rings that just begged to have fingers slid into them while picnicking in the sunshine.

What the hell was she thinking about? Picnicking in the sunshine?

Jenna straightened, accepted Fallcet’s handshake, and welcomed him to the Dahlia Palace. Once they were walking, her voice ran on autopilot as she explained different points of interest. While doing so, she found she was able to think more analytically.

Fallcet was wearing a light brown suit. It had a shorter leg length than the one Ryatt was wearing and a strip of his bare ankle was visible before his buff loafer began. He was not wearing socks, which was completely reasonable for where they were. Jenna was not even wearing shoes.

He wore no tie and his white shirt was open to expose his throat, which Jenna thought was unnecessarily provocative even though she wore a floral gown with a slit up to the thigh.

His reddish brown hair was tousled and long, an inch away from brushing his shoulder. And his dazzling white teeth allowed his smile to be of a higher wattage than anything Jenna had ever seen. His face was round everywhere Ryatt had angles. He had a round chin, round cheeks, and unless Jenna was completely crazy, they were a little rosy. He looked healthy.

In short, his charm was something completely different from Ryatt's. A man wearing Fallcet’s suit would never get in a fistfight and if he did, he was going to lose. Not only that, but putting him in a ring with Ryatt would have been nothing shy of a blood bath, but then… Jenna thought Ryatt wouldn’t lower himself to fight Fallcet. He didn’t fight babies with big cheeks.

Jenna glanced over her shoulder. Ryatt looked overdressed. She was about to whisper something to him about how he could change into something less formal when she realized he’d dressed himself that morning. What he was wearing was his choice.

Inside, Jenna did not treat Fallcet to a full tour of the palaces. She showed him where they would be having dinner. “This is my formal dining hall. Tonight, you’ll dine with two members of the Octavian council, Favel, Rossi, and me.”

Fallcet tucked his curls behind an ear. “I was hoping we could have a private conversation before that.”

“Oh? What about?” she asked, fingering the slit in her skirt to make sure the slit stayed shut.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Jenna put up a hand to silence him.

“Before you say anything I have to tell you that absolutely all audio is being recorded during your visit. If you sing in the shower, we’ll get the transcript.”

“Why so stiff?” he asked with a smooth chuckle. “We don’t record everything on Magma Prime.”

“It has become the standard policy since the AAMC attack on my palace that we record all verbalizations. You’re being filmed as well, though we will not take any film of you that will be aired on any of Celestina’s networks. Your visit will remain confidential, but not completely private. My bodyguard must remain in the room and a PA is monitoring you at all times.”

He sniggered uncomfortably. “That seems like overkill.”

“Your opinion is noted. Do you still wish to speak to me? As I said, it will be confidential though not completely private.”

“Indeed,” he said, pausing to clear his throat. “Could we sit down and make ourselves comfortable?”

Jenna nodded and put them in two chairs in a space that was useful in that the cameras pointed at them got great angles.

“I have to tell you at once that I’m here on false pretenses,” Fallcet said, showering her in charm.

Jenna narrowed her eyes at him. Suddenly, he looked like a groomsman on the wedding day admitting he’d brought something for everyone to smoke before the ceremony. It didn’t make him look charming, even though he hoped that it did.

“Go on,” she said, refraining from showing her annoyance.

Ryatt took a position one step behind her and towered over the two of them like a disapproving totem.

Fallcet glanced at the other man. He clearly did not like saying what he had to say in front of Ryatt, but Jenna enjoyed his discomfort as he threw out the script he had planned and rearranged his words into something he could say in front of Ryatt.

“I’m here to talk to you about your relationship with the AAMC,” Fallcet admitted.

“It was noted in your file that you have close ties to them. Your father is a general and your uncle is an admiral?” Jenna said, proving she’d done her homework.

Fallcet looked like the last man to serve in the military, but his file wasn’t lying about the pride his family had regarding their military service. Jenna suddenly thought Fallcet’s clothes and appearance were carefully chosen to make him look soft. The whole thing was very effective. Under the buff suit, even if he was flabby, under his skin and bones, he was a hard man, like every other man he was related to.

“Yes,” he said brightly, dropping a hand briefly on Jenna’s knee in a motion that felt studied. How long had he been waiting to touch her?

“Please refrain from touching me. My bodyguard might get a little overzealous and none of us want that,” she said, brushing his fingers away before Ryatt got angry.

“Please excuse me,” Fallcet said as an apology. “I’m sorry, but I need to ask you how close you think the Octavians and Adamis are to starting a war.”

“A war with the Octavians would be a foolish thing indeed. They have ten ships for every Adamis piloted ship. Most Adamis people travel with Octavians whenever they traverse the stars.”

“Their fees are extortion,” Fallcet said tightly.

Jenna’s expression was tight right back at him. “Did you know that at least two Octavians stay awake during every voyage? They alternate, but depending on the length of the voyage, years are shaved off their lives. Just to pilot that ship. Just that one time. The Adamis passengers are all asleep, but the Octavians are not. Space travel should not be treated as a trivial matter. Because of the crew that remains awake, incidents are rare aboard their ships. I’m sure you know how often Adamis ships require rescue teams—which are most often piloted by Octavians. When my ship was shot down, I was rescued by Octavians, not the AAMC.”

“That was not their fault. They didn’t know you were traveling in a separate pod from your husband,” Fallcet interrupted.

“Regardless, they still haven’t hunted down the ship that shot mine down. That event seems like it ought to have been overlooked since they retrieved Lucy and Armen. It seems like the AAMC did everything right, but after the attack on my palace, I feel like the event ought to be revisited. Perhaps they did know who they were rescuing and it would have served their purposes better if I had died.”

Fallcet did not become flustered over Jenna’s accusations. Unlike Lou Denver, he kept his cool heroically and said, “It’s good that you didn’t die. Losing your beauty would have been like losing a star in the night sky.”

Jenna wanted to shoot him. He was an AAMC soldier in boho rags, and the way he spoke to her made her feel like he thought her only purpose was to be his eye candy. She wished she’d worn the female version of what Ryatt had on instead of flowers. She was sure she had something like that in her closet.

“I’m still not clear what you’re doing here if you’re not interested in a post as a diplomat,” Jenna said patiently. “I am working on my relationship with the AAMC. I begin interviewing their recommendations after you leave. I’m perfectly willing to crown a handful of them. Thus, I don’t see why I need you to help me with my relationship with them.”

“I’m here to ask you to marry me,” he said smoothly.

Her gaze became skeptical. “As we have only just met, you’ll do me the courtesy of not acting like you’re in love with me and explain what it is you hope to gain and what you plan to give me.” It was not a question. It was a command.

“We were matched by the universal matching algorithm. You must have felt something when we met out on the dock.”

Jenna gritted her teeth before snapping. “I’ll kick your ass myself if you try to pretend that your desires are not politically driven. Ixy, how many new ships have the AAMC commissioned in the last year?”

“Seventeen thousand, two hundred and forty-five,” Ixy said over the loudspeaker.

Jenna leveled her gaze at Fallcet. “Are they planning to go to war with the Octavians over shipping rights?”

“The AAMC wants to break their monopoly,” Fallcet explained, rushing over his words. “They need to ensure that the shift in the market is handled smoothly, so the Octavians expect the smaller workload and don’t see the expanding AAMC fleet as a hostile act.”

“Is it a hostile act?” Jenna asked firmly.

“It’s a shift in power that doesn’t need to lead to war,” Fallcet answered, trying to match Jenna’s intensity.

“Fine. If you’re so interested in maintaining peace, then why aren’t you interested in becoming a diplomat?”

“That isn’t the role I have decided to play,” he replied.

“A lifetime appointment with a black beak sticking out of your head isn’t high on your to-do list?” she asked coldly.

“Look, I think I could serve my people better by providing a bridge between you and the AAMC,” he replied defiantly.

“What’s different from last year?” Jenna asked abruptly.

He was confused. “What do you mean?”

“You were approached last year and offered the position of my husband which you rejected. What’s different?”

“Nothing is different. They offered me the position of your third husband, which no self-respecting man would take. I’m asking to be your first husband.”

“Hmm,” Jenna hummed. “All right. I appreciate your candidness. If you’ve nothing left to add, I’ll think it over.”

“There is something else I want to add,” he said, keeping his eyes off Ryatt and planting his gaze firmly on Jenna. “I wasn’t kidding about the sparks I felt when I saw you on the docks.”

Jenna put up a hand. “Please stop. Regardless of whether or not you’re telling the truth, I have a slow warm-up time. You’re going to need to prove yourself. I’m going to cancel our guests for dinner since you have no diplomatic ambitions. We’ll talk more then. For now, Vash will escort you to the Sand Palace where you can rest until dinner.”

Vash appeared at the door and led him out.

Jenna could only exhale a solid thirty seconds after she’d seen his back retreat through the front door.

Who had she been when she lived on Earth that both Armen and Fallcet were the men of her dreams?

“Is everything okay, Jenna?” Ryatt asked.

“I feel like I can’t even. Though I did not enjoy that meeting, he gave me an idea. Ixy, we need to get a few non-military pilots from the Adamis Alliance to interview for diplomatic positions, pronto. Get me a list of potentials. Maybe look among the disreputable ones particularly? See if you can find at least one person who was canned from their position as a pilot because they sided with an Octavian.”

“You’re getting juicy in your old age,” Ixy said over Jenna’s headset.

Jenna got up and as she did, a joiner from her barefoot sandals caught on the hem of her dress.

RIP!

Jenna sat back down and looked at the damage. Both were damaged. The hem of the dress was torn out and the links in the sandal were broken.

“What do you think?” Ryatt said, getting on one knee to look at the breakage.

“I bet Misha can fix the dress. She can probably fix the sandals too. I’d be able to fix them myself if I had a beading kit, which I have in my apartment on Earth.” Jenna didn’t like to think about what had happened to her apartment on Earth and all the things she’d liked inside it. But suddenly looking at the sandal, she felt far worse about the sandals than the life she left behind. She was wearing the expensive barefoot sandals that Sardius had chosen for her. She looked at the broken metal that spilled over her foot in all the wrong ways like a broken arm twisted the wrong way. “These were my favorite.”

“Why?” Ryatt asked, finding the clasp behind her ankle and pulling it loose before gently unhooking it from around her middle toe.

“It was the closest thing I ever got to a love gift.”

“What about Moonbeam?”

Jenna screwed up her face at him. “I still don’t understand why it has to sleep in my room.”

“It’s a gift from your fiance,” Ryatt replied patiently, as he moved to unclasp the other sandal. “It would please Favel to have Moonbeam in your room.”

The voice in Jenna’s ear asked, “How does his hand feel on your foot? Is it smooth or rough?”

“Shut up, Ixy,” Jenna fumed.

Ryatt laughed under his breath.

“Thank you,” Jenna said, getting to her feet. “I have to change. I wasn’t planning on changing into a new outfit for Mr. Brown Suit, but I can’t wear a raggedy dress to dinner.”

Ryatt cupped the broken jewelry in his hand and followed Jenna down the hall. “What did you think of him?”

“He said the letters AAMC too many times for me to find him lovable,” Jenna replied callously.

Ryatt shut the bedroom door behind Jenna and followed her to her dressing room, where she stood in front of a rack of clothing, trying to decide what to wear instead.

“What are you doing in here?” she asked drolly.

“I’m waiting for you to take your dress off so I can take it and the broken sandal to Misha,” he explained.

“Do you have to watch me?”

“I’ll turn my back while you change, but I’m also here if you want to run your second choice of dress by me. What you wear could become a security hazard if it’s too racy,” he said with a knowing smile.

Jenna almost snorted. “Fine. For once, I agree. I shouldn’t wear anything too exciting. What would you choose for me to wear to dinner with Fallcet?”

Ryatt stood beside her and fingered through her dresses. Picking something black, he handed it to her. Jenna held the dress. It was sleeveless and had a neckline so high it touched her jaw. It was fitted until the waist, where it transformed into a magnificent skirt with wave upon midnight wave of black satin. It was especially impressive because it had a royal blue lining in the skirt. If any of the black fabric flipped up, there was a mass of blue.

Jenna realized in a flash that it was the feminine equivalent of what Ryatt was wearing, and exactly what she had longed to wear when she realized who she was dealing with when she had been speaking to Fallcet.

Her gray eyes darted upward to meet Ryatt’s.

“I’m going to end up killing you. You know that right?” Jenna said, letting her voice sound like marbles banging into rocks.

He smiled back at her, his lips taking a shape that matched his cut jaw. “I look forward to the privilege,” he said before he turned his back on her and left the dressing room.


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