Her mind set upon a confrontation with Korvane, Bridle turned her thoughts to her father's ongoing talks with the Imperial Commander, Luneberg. Part of her was still furious that Luneberg had attempted to turn the Arcadius into lowly gunrunners. Yet, she was no longer so disposed towards undermining the deal entirely. Her perspective had shifted, and she now considered herself in a far more favourable position. She had made powerful friends, Naal being a far more influential man than she had supposed, at first. With his aid, she might redefine the terms of the deal entirely, if she could convince her father that Naal and his associates offered a greater opportunity than did the Imperial Commander.

Associates? She started walking once more, but slower, her footsteps less sure. Her frustration grew more intense as she tried to remember the details of her conversation with Naal. He had made it clear, she was sure, that he had some power over Luneberg, and could influence him to change the terms of the deal, so long as it had not yet been finalised. She realised that this implied she must act soon, sooner than she might like, sooner perhaps than she was ready for.

She quickened her pace as she reached a resolution. It was clear to her that she must stymie the talks, ensuring that her father and Luneberg did not reach a final conclusion that would lead to the Arcadius submitting entirely to his service, and destroying themselves in the process. Korvane, she knew, would attempt to block her in this, and so she must time her intervention carefully, since it would inevitably lead to a confrontation with him. She knew that she must manage all this without falling so completely out of favour with her father that he would never again place his trust in her, or consider her a worthy inheritor of his mande.

She briefly wished for the oblivion of the previous night, or even the relative simplicity of ship-to-ship combat.

Brielle swept into the apartment, to find Korvane waiting for her, a typically supercilious expression on his face. 'Where is he? she demanded, slamming the door behind her and striding into the chamber. She was not in the mood for formalities.

'I'd ask where you have been, but I can see it's not a subject for polite conversation' Korvane rejoined.

Little fool, thought Brielle, her hackles rising. 'This isn't the Court of Nankirk, Korvane, and you have no right to judge me. 'Where is Father?

Korvane visibly bristled at Brielle's mention of his mother's court. 'It certainly is not. he said, making a show of surveying his surroundings, 'and neither is it the annual tribal gathering' He made a further show of looking her up and down, exaggerated disgust on his smirking face. 'Although you certainly appear to have attended it'

Hatred flared in Brielle. She had always known that Korvane considered himself vastly superior to her in more ways than the order of inheritance. He had cast a slur upon the culture from which her mother came, that of the feral world of Chogoris. The world formed a large part of her own identity, despite not having been afforded much time amongst her mother's people.

Brielle stepped towards her brother, barely resisting the urge to forcibly remove the smug expression he wore across his stupid face. 'I'll ask you once more and then I won't be quite so polite' she snarled. 'Where is Father?

Korvane stood his ground, but indicated, with a nod, the door to the private conference room. 'He's in closed session with Luneberg. You'll have to wait until they have concluded business'

Damn them, she thought, they're in there now, closing the deal. She would have to take drastic action and worry about the fallout later.

'Get out of my way' Brielle said as she pushed past her brother. She caught him off balance and he stumbled to one side before catching himself and spinning round. He grabbed her at the elbow.

'I'm not going to let you mess this up, Brielle, so don't even think it. Don't get involved in matters that are beyond you'

Brielle snapped. Without thinking, she lashed out, feeling her fist strike her stepbrother's face and something brittle break beneath the impact. Korvane cried out and stumbled backwards, affording her a clear path to the door. She forged on, flinging the door wide without pause for thought.

Beyond, a wooden, oval table dominated the wide conference room, the back wall made entirely of glass, with a mighty eagle, symbol of the Imperium, mounted upon its outer face. Luneberg sat at the far side of the table, courtesans arranged demurely around him. Seated at either side were a dozen or so hooded scribes, feathered quills scratching across dry parchment in unison.

Her father sat, alone, on the other side of the table, his back towards her.

Luneberg had been speaking, but stopped as she entered, his mouth flapping in outrage. The quills halted too, and the scribes looked up, their faces barely visible beneath the deep hoods they wore. The courtesans whispered furtively, covering mouths with bejewelled hands.

'Father' she said, suddenly unsure what to do.

Her father's head turned, and he looked straight at her, confusion in his eyes. 'Brielle, what are you doing here?

'I need to speak to you, Father, we need to-

The door behind Brielle flew open even further, slamming against the wall with a crash. Korvane burst through it, blood pouring from his ruined nose. 'Father, don't listen to her, she's gone mad! She's trying to rain everything!

Bridle's father opened his mouth to speak, but Luneberg pre-empted him, bellowing in rage, 'What, by all that is holy, is the meaning of this? He turned on Lucian, pointing a finger at him, 'This upstart girl has interrupted us twice, Gerrit, twice she has perpetrated such breaches of protocol as would ordinarily earn a flogging. Well, I tell you this, you may have sought to wriggle out of our deal' Bridle's mouth fell open at this, 'but I am inclined to throw you all in my dungeons!

'Wriggle out of the deal'?

Brielle looked to her father, who was addressing Luneberg.

'My lord' said Lucian, 'please forgive my daughter. I will speak with her presently, but please, may we conclude matters?

'"Conclude matters"? If by that you mean will I allow you to run out on me without a shred of compensation, then absolutely not. You will find the terms of our original contract quite specific in this regard'

'"Specific"? Lucian surged to his feet. 'We had no such deal Luneberg. We can leave whenever we please!

'How little you know of life, you who consider yourself so well-travelled. I require neither contract nor treaty Lucian, for I am master of this world and may do as I choose. I deem you beholden to me and you may not back out of our arrangement. Not without substantial penalty.

'You're mad' said Brielle, interrupting Luneberg's tirade. Every head in the chamber turned towards her, a stunned silence descending.

Luneberg stood, straightening out his uniform as he did so. 'Lucian, you will punish your daughter, or I will. If you refuse to, I will have every one of you arrested. Do you understand?

Lucian stood facing the other man across the wide table. He leant forward. 'I will not punish my daughter, Luneberg, for she speaks the truth'

The collective intake of breath from around the chamber would have sounded comical were it not for the tension of the situation. Brielle watched as her father's knuckles turned white, a sure sign, she knew, of his anger.

'Then you are condemned by your own words. Naal, have them arrested'

Brielle had not seen Naal standing behind his master, but was grateful for his presence, as he stepped forwards. Their eyes met, and she recalled the promise he had made the previous night. She had only to indicate she needed, and wanted his help, and it would be hers. She nodded, the slightest movement, so that only he would see. He did likewise.