The Last Praetorian (27 page)

“Ok, you win!”  Jon admitted. “So you win the bet, what do
you want?” Jon asked curious to know what she was going to demand.

“A night out.  Dinner, followed by dancing!” Sofia exclaimed
excitedly.  “You
do
know how to dance don’t you?” Sofia asked
suspiciously, she had never actually seen Jon dance.

As a matter of a fact, Jon did know how to dance; as an
officer in the Imperial Navy he was also expected to represent the Empire on
formal occasions of state, hence dancing lessons had been mandatory at the
Military Academy.  Desperately Jon tried to think of some excuse, some reason
before suddenly hitting on the perfect one.  “I would love to, but we don’t
have anything to wear.”  Jon motioned towards their sweats and T-shirts. 
“Unfortunately seeing as I just disobeyed direct orders, stole a shuttle,
including taking hostage the Imperial Princess on the aforementioned shuttle I
think pay-day is…unlikely this month!”  Jon smiled triumphantly, with the
perfect excuse.

Sofia just gave him another predatory smile, before
breathing into his ear and whispering, “Jon, dear, honey, snookum’s, do you
remember what I am?”

Staring into her bright green eyes that were dancing in
merriment, with her breasts firmly pressed against his chest and their groins
joined, all Jon could manage in his strangled response was “
Very hot…
”       

Surprised, as that had not been the response she was expecting,
Sofia released her elbow from the poor boy’s neck in case he was starting to
suffer from oxygen deprivation, before explaining. “I am an Imperial Princess,
daughter of the Emperor and very, very, extremely, fabulously,
rich.
Could I interest you in a new ship, as I understand that our current one has
some problems, or a planet perhaps, maybe just a small moon…
”

Jon just lay back on the ground, staring into the darkened
sky.
Oh yeah, I had forgotten about that. Damn.  Looks like dinner and
dancing it is.
  

*****

Jon pulled at his collar once again, while waiting for Sofia
to get ready for dinner and dancing, Jon had strenuously refused to use the
‘date’ word.

“Stop pulling at it, or you’ll end up twisting it,” his
father complained.

“It’s not my fault, the damn thing is too tight, it’s like a
noose!”  However, his father just gave him an amused look.

“Now don’t forget, I want you both home by midnight, and no
necking in the cab,” his father warned him seriously, which was rather spoilt
by the grin that was threatening to split his face in half.

“You are having far too much fun with this,” Jon warned his
father.

His father gave the accusation careful consideration before
he replied, “Yep.” 

Sighing at his unrepentant father, Jon had to confess – only
in private - that the suit that he wore was not that bad.  While very similar
to his usual navy uniform this was a charcoal grey, unlike his usual navy
whites.  Jon idly wondered if it was this similarity that prompted Sofia to
purchase it earlier in the day, when Sofia and his mother went out for
some…shopping.  The fact that they were gone most of the day did not phase Jon
in the slightest, and if he continually checked the chronometer every five
minutes, well…that was just because he was
really
interested in the
time.  Jon had been waiting for over thirty minutes for Sofia to get ready, and
for the thirtieth time wondered what
she
would be wearing.  A sharply
in-drawn breath from his father standing by his side seemed to answer that
question and steeling himself, Jon turned around and the breath caught in his
own throat.

He had seen Sofia dressed up for many formal occasions,
wearing many different dresses but at that moment in time Jon could not for the
life of him ever remember Sofia look so beautiful.  With her stunning red hair,
combed back so that it almost reached her shoulder, deeply offset by a lacy
emerald green blouse that matched her eye colour perfectly, she was wearing a
maroon coloured skirt that barely reached her knees, showing off her perfect,
and endlessly long legs that concluded in a pair of strappy wrap-around
sandals.  Jon knew that he should say something but could only gape, with his
mouth open as she descended down the stairs.

“Close your mouth Commander,” she uttered on the way past,
“otherwise you will catch flies.”  With a pat on the back from his father and
best wishes from his mother he followed the Princess out of the house to the
waiting cab.  The cab had also been waiting for the past thirty minutes and it
was only the promise of a truly astronomical tip, that had mollified the
driver, after all it was Sofia’s money, and Jon had heard that the Aurelius
ship-yards had been doing good business for the past, oh, five centuries…

They arrived soon after at the restaurant Jon had chosen for
dinner.  Jon did not actually know any expensive restaurants on Altair - he was
fairly sure that the definition of an expensive restaurant on Altair was an
oxymoron - but a quick search on the planetary data-net confirmed that they did
exist.  Booking a table had not been a problem as Jon doubted that there were
more than a dozen potential customers on the entire planet that could afford
the astronomical prices.

Offering his hand to the Princess - after all anyone looking
so stunning could hardly have been anything but - he escorted her into the
restaurant.  The maître d’ scanned the list of names before them and,
confirming their reservation escorted them to a table next to the windows, open
to allow in the still warm evening air, with the stars glistening beautifully
outside.  Seated, Jon found that he could not tear his gaze away from Sofia,
completely enamoured.

Finally Sofia broke the silence, by glancing down at the
menu. “Shall we order?” She proposed.  Tentatively, Jon reached for the menu,
handling it much like one would a poisonous snake.  With a certain degree of
dread Jon read down the list of items, not recognising any of them.  Slightly
more urgently he flipped to the next page with the same result.  Jon glanced at
some of the prices listed next to the items, and then adverted his eyes. 
Possibly he could afford some of the smaller items on his navy salary, for
example the Tartare Salad, was priced at just under his monthly salary. 

As he slowly closed the menu, Sofia looked up in surprise
and inquired, “You have decided what to order, already?  That was quick.”  Jon
nodded in acknowledgement and watched as Sofia motioned for their server to
come over to take their order.  When their server arrived, with real pen and
paper, to take their order Sofia motioned to Jon to order first.  “I’m still
trying to decide… darling,” she explained.  As Jon observed Sofia peering over
the top of the menu, paying absolutely no attention to its contents he knew he
was being set up. 
The Witch!

“I’ll have the Lobster Newberry, arugula and goat cheese
salad,” Jon ordered promptly, gazing deeply into Sofia’s eyes, not for an
instant missing the flash of surprise in her eyes.

“And what about madam?”  The server inquired, turning to
Sofia after jotting down the order.

“Ugh,” she replied with a slight flush, having been far more
interested in what Jon was ordering than actually reading the menu. “I’ll have
the same as him,” she finally stated.

“Excellent,” the server responded completely missing the
non-verbal byplay that was taking place across the table.  “Can I get sir or
madam any drinks?  We have an excellent wine selection,” he motioned towards
the menu lying on the table.

“Why don’t you order…dear,” Sofia suggested with an
enigmatic smile.  “You know me, no idea about wines.”  The server shifted his
gaze to Jon expectantly.

“A bottle of 2712 Haut-Brion Blanc,” Jon did not even glance
at the menu, keeping his gaze intently focused on Sofia.

“A particularly inspired choice, sir,” the server said
approvingly. “I’ll be back with your wine in just a moment.”

As the server disappeared, probably into the deepest darkest
depths of the wine cellar to look for a 75-year-old bottle of wine, Sofia’s
gaze fell to the tablecloth.  What had initially started off as a little light
teasing of Jon had quickly lost its allure when it became obvious that Jon was
exceptionally familiar with the menu.  Sofia, wondered how many other women Jon
had wined and dined at this restaurant, perhaps this very table.

Noticing Sofia’s sad gaze fall to the tablecloth, as she
started to draw random shapes on the table, Jon cursed himself.  After the
terrible lies that he had said about her family, Jon swore to himself that he
would never hurt this woman again, that she had already gone through enough
pain in her life.  Now here he was barely thirty minutes into their date, and
already he had hurt her again.  This time it was different though, whatever he
had done to hurt her, he was going to correct it.  Jon had already spent a week
living with the painful distance between themselves and he would not, could not,
go through that again.  Hence he did something that even a few weeks ago he
would never have contemplated.  Without permission he reached across the table,
enfolding the finger drawing shapes on the table with one hand, and with the
other deftly lifted her chin until she was looking him in the eye. 

“Please tell me what I said or did to upset you?” He asked
softly, continuing to hold her hand and touch her cheek delicately.

Looking at the tablecloth again, she commented. “I guess
that you must come here often?”  Noticing the surprised look on Jon’s face she
hurriedly added. “As you seem to know the menu so well.  Do you bring many
women here for dinner?”

Jon continued to gaze into Sofia’s eyes fondly, without
responding.  Only when finally, waiting for a response did she look him in the
eye, he replied.  “I’ve never been to this restaurant before, I found it on the
data-net while you were out shopping.  As for other women, there have been
terribly few, ever since I found myself keeping company with a real life Princess.”

Sofia just blushed at his gentle words, but that did not
explain how come he knew the menu so intimately!  “So how did you know what to
order?”  Sofia asked puzzled.

Leaning forward so only Sofia could hear his whispered
response he replied.  “I have absolutely no idea what I just ordered.  I simply
chose the most expensive item on each page.”  The sound of Sofia’s crystal
clear laugh turned more than one male head in the restaurant.

*****

All in all, Jon enjoyed dinner far more than he was
expecting.  The food was… interesting, after Sofia had explained to him what he
had actually ordered.  The wine was crisp and clear, surprising seeing that it
was almost 75 years old…and the bill?  Well Jon just decided not to even think
about that.  It was still fairly early when they left the restaurant, and the
evening still pleasantly warm after the daytime heat.

“So what would you like to do now Princess?”  Jon accentuated
his point by smoothing back behind her ear one of her strands of hair that had
escaped.

“I believe that you still owe me a dance, Commander,” Sofia
replied archly.

“So I do,” Jon replied, looking around and taking his
bearings.  He remembered a club, not far from here, which he frequented
occasionally when attending the Academy on Altair.  Unlike most of the clubs
that he knew, this one was more of an open-air patio, hence was not stifling
and deafening – at the same time. 

Taking her hand in his, the couple walked hand-in hand in
the direction of the club.  Frequently Jon pointed out sights, scenes and
buildings from his childhood on Altair.  There was a short queue already
forming outside the club, and they had to wait several minutes for the queue to
disperse.  Idly Jon wondered if Sofia had ever had to queue for anything in her
life, but quickly dismissed the question, as she seemed to be taking it in good
humour. 

In actual fact Sofia spent most of her time observing the
other patrons in the queue waiting to enter the club.  Jon felt a stab of
jealously for a moment before he realised that she was just naturally curious. 
Sofia had grown up on the
Imperial Star
, surrounded either by Imperial
Navy personnel or the politicians and their families on rotation.  She had
never seen the riot of colours, styles, tattoos, and piercings that was on show
by the youths queuing for the club. 

Jon
did
observe a number of the youths eying Sofia
lustfully; those he met each of their gazes for a few moments before they
averted their eyes.  Most of the young men also got a sharp elbow in the
stomach from their partners, encouraging them to pay attention.  Jon noticed
one or two envious glances from the partners as well!  Sighing to himself that
this was probably not a good idea, but too late now as Sofia would never agree
to leave, Jon promised himself to keep very, very close to her inside the club.

Sofia meanwhile, was drowning in a sea of colours and cultures,
and loving every minute of it.  She had not realised how sterile her life
aboard the
Imperial Star
had been until so many different people
surrounded her.  She stared in amazement at the different people, some with
green and orange hair, others covered in tattoos, and the clothes that the
women wore!  Some of them hid almost nothing!  She quickly glanced at Jon to
make sure that he was not ogling at any of then, but instead Jon was giving an
angry stare at one of the young men ahead of them in the queue who was staring
openly at them; a few moments later he looked away. 

Jon meanwhile just seemed to ooze… menace, even without his
immaculate white uniform, with the Praetorian insignia and his sword, dressed
in a charcoal grey suit, which now matched his darkened eye colour.  The suit
did nothing to hide the broad shoulders and strong biceps, and the frown that
he wore was enough to scare anybody.  While she had always noticed that Jon was
very handsome, this was a new side to him that she had never seen before.  Far
from being repelled, Sofia found the dark, heated look extremely attractive,
knowing that it was Jon’s way of warning any potential men away.  Taking a page
from Jon’s book she reached up and touched his cheek, drawing his gaze to her. 
As Jon’s face focused on her once again his eyes lightened to their usual misty
grey and his face relaxed.