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22 September 2015 @ 08:10 am
Scrap 3  

Chapter Seven

3 Emre 1410

Paris, One World

Ebsa had started a list, and wasn't happy with the results. It was election year. The War Party and the Isolationists hogged all the news time. Even the tiny political parties, the Pacifists, the Nativists, the Strong Federalists, and the Multitude Supreme parties were getting more news time than the Modernists.

President Orde has been in office for over fourteen years. Reelected twice. Is everyone bored with him? Ready for something new, despite all the changes Orde has ushered in? Permanent gates, corridors. Diplomacy among all the dimension traveling worlds.

Of course . . . Comet Fall's successful genetic attack was a serious setback, but everyone knows it was retaliation for our attack on them, one raid too many, after all the trouble we've caused them. And we're back at peace, and anyone who wants their genes back can get them back. The Conclave was a bit of a disappointment. They just confirmed the current standards, while saying no direct victims of the attack would be reclassified. And they're still arguing.

Ebsa scowled at his list. Orde needs to get his name mentioned, he needs to hold attention more often. But not a government scandal. Not a personal scandal. He got up and paced the floor. Would it be a scandal? To be quietly done and over with? Or would it be a year long social extravaganza? AKA torture.

"Only one way to find out." He paced over to the new suit, laid out on the bed. "Montevideo does the latest Paris fashions, and makes them look better. I think." He finished dressing. Dithered. Slipped the ring into the inside pocket.

"All I need is courage. And brashness. And the guts to make sure this gets a lot of publicity. And the grit to see it through." He carried coat and tie out to his car, and placed them carefully within reach. Dry swallowed. "Courage."

He parked in the "known, trusted" area. Combed his hair, tied the tie just right. At least it was a garden party, any men in tuxes would be guards. Ebsa got out and put on the suit coat. Checked the ring.

The shuttle swung by and picked him up. Black Horse Trooper driving, of course. He stopped for two other party goers and dropped them all at the main entrance.

Even the casual party attendees expect to go up these well known steps.

He was early, purposefully, and sought out Koil.

The Newsie eyed him. "Ebsa, what are you up to this time?'

He tried his best innocent look, and got cynicism in return.

"I'm going to arrange something I'd like to have a recording of. And yes, I do realize that if it's newsworthy, everyone will see it. So . . . see that little niche over at the far end of the dance floor? Scope out how to record unobtrusively, and be there at . . . " He pulled out his dance card to check . . . because of nerves. "Three dances from the end. Scheduled for twenty-two fifteen. Something might happen during the dance."

Koil peeked at it. "I just love these casual parties where you have to reserve a dance a week ahead of time. How many dances did you manage with Paer? Only four? And practically nothing else. Tsk! Poor woman is being beseiged by . . . "

"Everyone." With money, position, or power. Or all three.

"Dirty old men."

"Ambitious men. See you then."

It was a good party. Izzo and Xiat were there, Rael of course. Both women danced with him, and a few others he'd met. And Paer. Their fourth dance was the third from the end and he steered her steps to the far end of the dance floor and off the floor halfway through.

Paer sighed in relief. "My feet are starting to hurt."

He handed her down to the bench. Dry swallowed.

Knelt.

"Paer . . . will you marry me?"

 
 
 
shana: pic#26226061shana on September 22nd, 2015 08:31 pm (UTC)
Ooh, nice, juicy scandal. Ebsa had better work on his swordplay; he's going to be fighting a lot of duels.
Bretbretw on September 22nd, 2015 10:25 pm (UTC)
Only if she says yes.
matapampamuphoff on September 22nd, 2015 11:20 pm (UTC)
Making the catch of the decade doesn't rise to the level of a dueling offense. Although Evdu may try to find sufficient excuse. Especially if he behaves badly enough for Ebsa to start referring to him as DooDoo. I haven't written that yet.

I really don't want the story problem to be "getting married." I'd much rather have something else going on while the wedding preps are driving them crazy.
shanashana on September 22nd, 2015 11:58 pm (UTC)
I don't know how many Game players will be offended by the Clostuone not only daring to try but succeeding where they failed. But I'm sure that some of the stupider or more arrogant ones will try to cause trouble. Which I am sure will backfire on them, because not only is Ebsa better than them, so is Paer.

I see more fencing lessons in Ebsa's future. Ra'd and Isakson will insist.
matapampamuphoff on September 23rd, 2015 01:19 am (UTC)
Ohhh. That just gave me the most evil idea . . .
matapampamuphoff on September 23rd, 2015 04:31 pm (UTC)
Yesss... that came off well. Evdu and his father the Minister of Health decided to help Paer escape from what she must realize was a horrible decision.