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 Post subject: Re: A Maid's Duty *UPDATED: CHAPTER FIVE*
PostPosted: Sun August 23rd, 7:00 pm 
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Fora Novice
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Gender: Melini (Brunette)
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Chapter Six

Taylor stood half-blind in the sunlight, watching her new planet fill up. Two blondes strolled up the street opposite her, hand in hand and giggling. A few blocks up a brunette pushing a pram walked along with her head back and a look of insufferable smugness printed on her face. Another brunette on a small stepladder was putting up a poster. Several small groups stood in front of shop windows, talking too low to hear. Walking seemed to be common, though few cars eeled slowly down the street.

It was difficult to adjust to thinking of the women on the street as two different sexes. She tried to observe them and find some outstanding difference that wasn't hair and gave it up quickly. Brunettes seemed to walk on the outside of the sidewalk, and blondes seemed to laugh a touch more often, but that didn't seem like enough.

She watched the brunette with the pram get stopped by one of the groups, who fell into fits of cooing and championship-level baby passing. No one seemed to wear that look of discomfort and fear that marked the male role in conversations about infants. The brunette- who had to be the mother- only puffed her chest out farther and looked like she was trying to graciously accept an award and failing.

“They always behave as though they're the first maids to discover nappies, don't they?” A voice said, and Taylor jumped.

Beside her on the path leading to the hat shop stood a brunette. She looked around Lady Pratchett's age, if Taylor's guess was any good.

“Um,” Taylor said. “I have no idea.”

The brunette, tall and cheerful looking, blinked and made reverence. Taylor copied her. The movement still felt awkward, and Taylor tensed, waiting for comment on it and her.

“I suppose I can't fault your honesty,” the brunette said merely. “Rayati, Miss. I am Captain Vittoria Ranaldi.”

“Er. Rayati. Taylor Sapar.”

“Are you lost, dear?” Captain Ranaldi said. “You look a little bewildered.”

“No, no. I'm waiting on someone.” She waved her hand behind her towards the door. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure, Miss-” The door creaked open, and Captain Ranaldi stopped. There was a silent moment.

“Horatia,” the strange brunette said.

“Captain,” Lady Pratchett said. Her hand came down on Taylor's shoulder.

“Oh, forgive me,” Captain Ranaldi said, and laid her gloved fingers on her heart with a languid motion. “You're a Commodore these days.” She dropped her hand. “I guess I'll always remember you as that sweet Kadorian girl we went to school with.”

“Some things are hard to change,” Lady Pratchett murmured. “I still think of the Reliant as my ship. I see you've met my ward?” Captain Ranaldi's hand clenched on the bag she was carrying.

“Indeed.” Her eyes flicked over Lady Pratchett's shoulder. “Do you know why my cousin has closed up shop in the middle of the day, Commodore Pratchett?”

“Has she? Perhaps she's taken a late lunch,” Lady Pratchett said. “I'm sure it's none of my affair.”

“No, it really isn't,” Captain Ranaldi said. “Yet- how strange- she seems to take so many late lunches when you come around.”

“Mysterious,” Lady Pratchett agreed. She smiled. “Perhaps next time I'll bring a picnic basket. Thank you for the suggestion. Rayati, Captain Ranaldi. Come along, Miss Taylor.”

“Rayati,” the other brunette said.

Taylor hurried after Lady Pratchett, who was striding away with the bags balanced on her forearm. She glanced over her shoulder in time to see Captain Ranaldi rattle the locked door of the shop.

“She didn't recognize me. I mean, she didn't know I'm an alien, did she?”

“I doubt it,” Lady Pratchett said. “Ranaldi was never one for gossip.”

Taylor felt oddly put-out by the lack of reaction to her species. “She called you Horatia.”

“So she did.”

“Huh,” Taylor said. “So was that familiarity, or an intense desire to offend you?” Taylor looked up at the side of Lady Pratchett's face, curious enough to ignore the shops they passed.

“Some of both,” the Lady said.

“Why?”

“Sweet child,” Lady Pratchett said. “Have I been so nice you can't imagine disliking me?”

“Well, when you put it that way,” Taylor said, and adjusted her hat. “Where are we going?”

They had stopped on a street corner while Lady Pratchett consulted a pocketwatch and let a group of brunettes pass by. Several flickered glances over Taylor, and one smiled, but no one seemed aware she wasn't a native.

“I believe the pippsies call it 'going for a kinnie',” Lady Pratchett said, stuffing her watch back in her pocket.

“What?”

“The moving-picture show, do you have them out there? Yes? Well, there's a showing of Daughter of the Sun at the Grand Nancy.” At Taylor's look of blank incomprehension, she explained, “It's a fictionalized version of the founding of the Empire. It will help you understand us a little better, and you were so good at the hat-shop, I think you deserve a little indulgence before your lessons start up tomorrow.”

Taylor wasn't sure how she felt about being “good”, but she was curious enough not to snarl. “On my planet they call this sort of thing 'carrot and stick',” she said only.

“Concise,” Lady Pratchett said, and nodded to a passer-by. “And accurate. I do like a girl who learns quickly.”

Taylor huffed and followed her.

The Grand Nancy was a huge building of yellow-toned bricks, incongruously shoved between a garden and a seamstress's repair shop, but the most fascinating thing was the posters. Taylor looked at them while Lady Pratchett purchased tickets. Unfamiliar curling writing scrolled across two aliens dancing in ballgowns; a brunette brandishing a broken sword; a stunning blonde leaning over a ivy-climbed balcony with her hand extended; another blonde, bookish looking, held a magnifying glass to her eye; a storm tossed ship with a-

Taylor stared. “Commodore, that poster-”

The ticket maid started coughing into her hand.

“Let's go,” Lady Pratchett said, and fit action to word. Taylor trailed after, looking over her shoulder.

“She looks just like-”

“Here's our theater. Tell the usherette to seat us away from other people so I can answer any questions you have.”

“But that girl-”

“I'm going to go get some refreshments.”

* * *

Taylor stumbled blinking into the lobby. The sun was significantly higher in the sky.

“Well?”

Taylor rubbed her eyes, considering. “Don't think this means I like it here,” Taylor warned.

“Duly noted,” was the dry answer.

“I mean, it's still totally wrong that there are no guys.”

“Go on.”

“But that was maybe a little bit awesome,” Taylor said. “Not that the Federation couldn't have done it better.”

“Of course.”

“I mean... we have better fog machines.”

“To be sure,” Lady Pratchett said. “I'm going to collect our bags from the counter and visit the powder room, you just contemplate those... fog machines.”

Taylor found herself humming the theme song, and cut off, scowling. Okay, so maybe the scene with the blonde archers had been well choreographed. Possibly, possibly she had gasped a little when the sword of Caran had broken. And when the Daughter-Knights of Caere had ridden forth to battle crying Rayanna, Rayanna-

It was still silly. Taylor made herself stop humming, again.

“You don't have to stop,” a voice said behind her. “You have great pitch.” She turned.

The speaker was a blonde, who looked about her age, and she was dabbing her eyes. “It's such a sad song, isn't it? Thrilling, too, of course. I'm a music student,” she said. “Well, I mean, not yet, but I'm practically one already, I've been planning on going to the Cape Meredith Conservatory practically since birth. I've already planned my audition piece and everything...”

Taylor didn't hear a word. She was staring at the blonde's companion, who was the most beautiful thing she'd seen in days: a girl with hair not yellow or brown, but shining brilliant copper.

Taylor reached out and touched her arm. “Are you an alien too?” she said in wonder.

The chattering blonde fell silent. The coppery girl blinked once, slowly. Then she burst into tears.

The blonde girl threw her arms around the other girl and glared horribly at Taylor. “How dare you!” she raged, mood changed as quickly as a coin flipping over. “You are just awful, I don't care if you have better pitch than Kiki lia Caerelinde!” Taylor flinched back. The blonde continued to glare. “It is only the slightest hormonal imbalance,” she hissed. “She's as proper a blonde as- as- well, better than you!”

By now another girl had joined them, drawn by the fuss. “Pull back a mome, Tiff,” the new brunette said. “Didn't she say- an alien, too?”

The copper-blonde's sobs hiccuped to a stop. She pulled her face from the other girl's shoulder to look at Taylor. “Y-You're Lady Pratchett's alien?”

“I'm an alien,” Taylor said.

“Oh!” exclaimed the original blonde, blushing. “I'm sorry, I thought you were being mean to Glory. You look just like a person,” she added.

Taylor bristled, and the brunette rolled her eyes. “She is a person, Tiff, honestly.”

“You know what I mean,” Tiff said. She let go of the copper-blonde and reverenced, and so did the other two. She continued in a solemn voice. “Rayati. Miss. Welcome to Sai Herthe. We hope your stay here is serene and beautiful. My name is Tiff Mishti.” Her serious tone wavered and shattered, and she hurried on. “Only really it's Tiffany- well, Theophania, but that is so dreffle old sounding, so just call me Tiff, please. That's Glory- Glorianna Finch- and Miss up-herself brunette here is my cousin Lena Madrigal.”

“Taylor Sapar,” she said. “Um, rayati to all of you. Sorry about...” she made a hand gesture that encompassed a lot of things, so presumably she could have been apologizing for offensive ceiling tiles, but they understood her.

“Glory is sensitive about her hair,” Lena said. “Silly creature thinks people don't think she's a proper blonde.”

“I am not silly,” protested Glory. “You don't know what it's like, looking different from everyone else.”

“Stuff. Your hair is lovely,” Tiff said, with an air of a government proclamation. She peered at Taylor. “So, er, Miss, if I may ask- are you a blonde or a brunette?”

“I don't think I'm either,” Taylor said. “My planet doesn't have them. I mean, we have hair, but it doesn't... mean anything.”

“That sounds confusing,” Lena remarked. “How do you know who to dance with?”

“I don't really dance.”

“My Aunt doesn't dance,” Glory volunteered. “She has that leg problem from when she went off her horse, says it makes her ache. Still, how do you tell who's who?”

“We don't have blondes and brunettes,” Taylor said. “Just men and women.” Her lips shaped masculi and femini.

Glory gasped. “Really! Schizomorphs!”

“What do they look like?” Lena said in an intrigued voice. "Masculi, I mean. We haven't studied them in school yet."

Taylor bit her lip. She shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. “They look like men. Tall, flat-chested-” Glory squeaked, and Tiff blushed. “Sort of... straight up and down. Facial hair.”

The three native girls exchanged fascinated looks.

“Like... another eyebrow?” Tiff said.

“Don't be silly,” Lena said. “Where would they put it?”

“On top of the other two?” Glory suggested.

Taylor was startled into giggling by this mental picture. “No, it's right here.” She drew a circle around her lips, marvelling at the idea of people who'd never seen men.

“Doesn't food get in it?” Lena said.

Taylor shrugged again. “Sometimes.”

“I see,” Tiff said, in a disbelieving voice. “Oh, look, there's the Commodore.” She waved over Taylor's shoulder.

Taylor looked over her shoulder, and quickly, before she could be hushed, she jabbed a finger towards one of the posters. “What does that say?”

“'The Wreck of the Fair Hermeline',” Glory said, glancing at it. “Why?” But the Lady Pratchett was already there, greeting the girls in her cool voice, making Glory giggle and Lena stand stiff as an iron bar. Tiff appeared undaunted.

“Oh, Raya,” she said, once greetings had been exchanged. “We're going for tea at Milly's, please say your alien can come with us!” She clasped her hands, and turned imploring big brown eyes up at Lady Pratchett. “We'll won't get into any trouble at all.”

“Oh, please,” Glory added. “We'll go straight there and straight home. Please say yes.”

“We'll be really good guides,” Tiff said.

Taylor bit her lip. She hadn't thought about it until now, but she realized she hadn't felt frightened of the wide unsecured spaces and darkened rooms she'd been in today. Somehow the stern Lady Pratchett filled the void where her bodyguards ought to be. A part of her wanted to go with such cheerful girls, but a wholly unexpected and shocking part of her felt shielded by her implacable alien guardian. Distressed and confused, she said nothing, and stared at the ground.

“Irrepressible Theophania,” Lady Pratchett said. “Someone ought to name a ship of the line after you. I'm afraid we have already made plans for this evening, but should you both wish, she may come visit you later in the week. Miss Taylor?”

“That would be nice,” Taylor said. She smiled hesitantly at Glory, who beamed back, slight forgotten.

“Oh, goody,” Tiff said. “I'll show you all the best places. I've lived here forever, I know all the good spots. “

“Feel free to call on us in a few days,” Lady Pratchett said. “Rayati, girls.”

“Rayati” came back in a ragged chorus, and all reverenced. Taylor followed a beat behind. The movement was coming easier.


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 Post subject: Re: A Maid's Duty *UPDATED: CHAPTER SIX*
PostPosted: Tue August 25th, 3:38 am 
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Dear Miss Leland,

Reading your story piece by piece is such a pleasurable experience. Brava dear lady - may I ask for more?

With best regards,
Miss Fairchild


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 Post subject: Re: A Maid's Duty *UPDATED: CHAPTER SIX*
PostPosted: Tue August 25th, 5:26 am 
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This is wonderful! So many splendid bits.

This made me laugh aloud:

Quote:
“They look like men. Tall, flat-chested-” Glory squeaked, and Tiff blushed. “Sort of... straight up and down. Facial hair.”

The three native girls exchanged fascinated looks.

“Like... another eyebrow?” Tiff said.

“Don't be silly,” Lena said. “Where would they put it?”

“On top of the other two?” Glory suggested.



I loved how Taylor realized she felt protected by Lady Pratchett only when it was suggested she go somewhere without her. So true to life!

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 Post subject: Re: A Maid's Duty *UPDATED: CHAPTER SIX*
PostPosted: Tue August 25th, 2:36 pm 
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Rayati Miss Leland! I started off reading this just this morning, and am now all caught up and wish there was more so I might keep reading it! Do keep up the excellent work, I am just dying to know what happens! (And the bit with the eyebrows really was most amusing!)

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 Post subject: Re: A Maid's Duty *UPDATED: CHAPTER SIX*
PostPosted: Wed September 9th, 5:55 am 
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Only a short chapter this time, but the next one will be twice as long!

Chapter Seven

Tiffany came to see the alien a week later.

She'd intended to come much earlier, but as soon as she got home from the Grand Nancy her mother had developed that look of demonic entertainment that heralded the onset of housecleaning, and there was three days up the chimney. Then Gloriana had one of her periodic crises of confidence because some army maid had frowned at her, causing her to swear off all soldiers forever, which was not a ledge to leave a girl standing on, not with a military outpost barely ten miles away. Then of course was her cousin's birthday, which she was not allowed to invite the alien to, because honestly Theophania I have enough to do without worrying if your little friend is going to have an allergic reaction to the punch!

It was all very unfair.

The first afternoon she had to herself, she grabbed a bag of pastries for a gift and popped over to the Commodore's house. Outside the door she stopped to straighten herself and make sure she looked respectable, so that the Commodore would let her kidnap her alien without too much fuss.

The wrist button on her new gloves had slipped loose. The cloth fingers were a little too stiff to grasp the tiny thing, so with a guilty glance around, she raised her hand to her mouth and used her teeth to pop it through. Mamala would never know.

The door blew open. Tiff spat out her glove immediately.

“Tiff!” the alien maid cried. She smacked her forehead. “Miss Tiff, Miss Tiff. Oh, Space Ladies, I can hear her in my head.” She was hatless and ungloved and she looked a bit wild around the eyes. There was a rattle from inside the house. Miss Taylor jumped and looked behind her.

“Hide me,” she pleaded. “I'm escaping, I can't take it.”

“Hide you where, in the shrubs?” Tiff asked. “I have a better plan.”

She threw her arms around Miss Taylor's neck and took a deep, gasping breath. The bag of pastry smacked against Taylor's back.

Ack-”

“Oh Miss Taylor,” Tiff sobbed loudly as a shadow filled the still open door. “Oh, you're so right, I'm much too good for her!”

“What?” Taylor said. “Er- yes! Yes, you are!”

Tiff wailed. “She was just so handsome in her uniform!”

“Miss Tiff,” Taylor declaimed, getting into it. She patted Tiff on the back firmly. “Those Navy girls are all the same, you know it.”

Tiff snuffled into Taylor's shoulder and tried not to giggle. “I'm so glad you're here to talk to,” she whimpered in her most miserable tone. “Oh, rayati, Commodore.”

There was a long moment of silence.

“Rayati, Miss Theophania. What seems to be the problem?”

Tiff raised red eyes. The Commodore stood in the door, arms crossed, fingers drumming. “She left me, Commodore,” she sniffed.

“Did she,” the Commodore said.

Tiff ducked her face again. “She said we were too, too young.”

“And so, in your sorrow, you went and bought a dozen mooncakes?”

“Comfort eating,” Tiff whimpered. The alien's shoulders shook. “And she said there was her career to think of-”

The Commodore stopped drumming her fingers and went completely still.

“I'm so sorry to trouble you, I just couldn't bear to be alone,” she went on. “If-”

“Take as much time as you like.”

The door closed. Tiff straightened and grabbed Taylor's hand. “Hurry hurry hurry!”

They ran.

“Tiff, that was amazing,” Taylor said, once Tiff judged them safely out of sight. “I almost thought- wait, you weren't really...?”

Tiff laughed. She'd brought them to a small park, nothing more than a house lot with a bench and a few shade trees. In the corner there was a half-finished water feature that looked like it'd be a small river rock fountain when it was done. The escaped girls took a seat on the bench. “No,” she said. “Secret blonde magic trick, only for emergencies. Brunettes hate the sight of a blonde in tears, and soldiers are ultra-brunette brunettes.”

“Huh,” Taylor said. “Thanks.”

There was a pause. “Now you reverence,” Tiff said helpfully. “Because I just did you a nice thing.”

Taylor groaned and complied. “Your culture is hard.”

Tiff shrugged. “Could be worse. You could've been adopted by a Novarian.”

“Is that harder?”

“Times, like, fifty. Mooncake?” The bag was only slightly crumpled from their exertions. The round pastry she extracted was pale brown and firm, with an indistinct pattern stamped on the top and a delicate smell.

“Thanks. -Do I bow again?”

“No, you're fine. You don't say it with your mouth full, though.”

They ate in silence for a moment. “So why were you escaping?”

“Because she's a tyrant!” yelped Taylor, throwing her arms out as if to appeal to the universe. A piece of mooncake filling wobbled and tried to fall, and she snatched her hands back to save it. “Up before dawn for Vikhelic tutoring, because exercise is good for both body and mind, Miss Taylor! Flashcards at breakfast! Then this horrible terrifying etiquette woman comes in and sniffs at me because I don't know how to write a thank you card to a Trentish recently-widowed ex-General, or whatever. Politeness lubricates society, Miss Taylor! Sit up straight, Miss Taylor! Where are your gloves, Miss Taylor? Then Geography, and geography is way, way, way harder on your planet than it is on mine, let me tell you. And that's just before lunch.” She took a big bite of her pastry and crunched it viciously. “She never gives me a moment's peace! I don't know where she finds the time. Doesn't she have work to do?”

“Not really,” Tiff said. “She got injured somehow, years and years ago, and now she doesn't go out with the ships anymore. Just sort of supervises, I think.”

“Needs a hobby,” Taylor said. She glared at the last bite and popped it into her mouth, presumably cowed.

Tiff handed her another one. “I think that's what you're supposed to be,” Tiff said apologetically.

“Argh,” Taylor said. “Do you know, I'm not even allowed to stay up past ten?”

Tiff felt a twinge of injustice, as this was an hour later than she was allowed to stay up. She changed the subject. “Do you miss your family very much? I think I would.”

Taylor shrugged. She traced the design on top of her cake with a finger. “My parents are diplomats. They're... I don't think you have them here. Something like duchesses. Anyway, they aren't home much. I've been going to boarding schools since I was little. They did tell me they'd ship me off-planet if I got in trouble again.” She was silent for a few minutes. “Kind of. Kind of hurtful they didn't come to see me off, though.” Taylor looked up and her eyes went wide. “Are you alright?”

“That is so mean,” Tiff said, and sniffed a little. She dabbed her eyes. “How could anyone do that?” She took the alien's hand in both her gloved ones, ignoring her startled flinch.

Clearly, the alien- Taylor- needed looking after. All brunettes and no blondes made for a cold house, her mamala always said, and the Commodore was a very brown sort of brunette. Her mothers didn't seem like they'd taken proper care of her when they'd had the chance, so it was hardly a shock if Taylor had caused trouble. It was practically her duty to ensure Taylor had a good blonde hand to show her the proper way of things with kindness. Not with flashcards. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed like a fine notion.

She came to a decision, wholly forgetting to ask what sort of trouble Taylor had gotten into in the first place.

“I am going to be your friend, Miss Taylor,” Tiff announced. “And I am going to help you.”

Taylor looked down at their clasped hands, and looked up with an unreadable expression. “I don't understand.”

Tiff patted her hand. “I know you're fundamentally good,” she explained, not that she really knew any such thing. “She shouldn't be so hard on you. So we're going to find out a way to distract her. Glory can help. Lena too.”

Taylor stared at her. Her face was dappled with leaf shadows. “But why? I haven't done anything for you. I made your friend cry and ate all your pastries.”

Tiff waved a hand, attempting to convey with the flapping gesture that what were pastries, really, in the grand scheme of life. “Can't you see? It's practically fate, the way we met. You humming, me being almost a music student, Glory being a rose blonde. I have a feeling that it's meant to be.”

“You're kind of strange,” Taylor said.

Tiff recoiled. She pulled her hands away.

“No! No, wait, that's not what I meant,” Taylor said. “I'm not good at this. I'm sorry. I like you. Really. Not just for pastry. I just didn't expect it.” Tentatively, she reached her hand out again.

Tiff took it. “See? You're learning already. Just don't say something like that again,” she scolded.

“Sorry.”

Tiff beamed. Taylor smiled back. It was a little smile, a touch confused, but it was progress. “Now to business,” Tiff said. “How do we distract the Commodore?”

“I don't know.”

Tiff sighed. “Well, what does she like?”

Taylor slumped. Tiff graciously overlooked it. “Flashcards.”

“I don't think that's going to do the trick,” Tiff said. “Just a feeling.”

Taylor ran a hand through her hair, with fell over her brow in feathery yellow strands. She could see why Taylor had been wearing that very Vintesque hat at the theater; there was something a little unsettling about the way she spoke, paired with a blonde's looks. “Sometimes she plays billiards in her study,” she offered. “And she reads books.”

“Young blondes don't know anything about billiards,” Tiff said. “Even when we do.”

“Hmm.”

“Do you remember anything else she liked?”

“When we were at the hat shop, she mentioned liking to fight when she was younger.” Taylor sat upright again. “Wait! The hat shop! She was smiling at the hat shop. She actually made a joke.”

“Which hat shop, the Bandbox or Pink Lady's?”

“I can't read your language. The building was pink, though.”

“Aha.” Tiff smiled. “The oldest and best distraction of all; blondes. Now,” she continued. “-Who do I know who likes soldiers?”


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 Post subject: Re: A Maid's Duty *UPDATED: CHAPTER SEVEN*
PostPosted: Wed September 9th, 2:36 pm 
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Thank you, Miss Leland - I can't wait for the promised next installment!


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 Post subject: Re: A Maid's Duty *UPDATED: CHAPTER SEVEN*
PostPosted: Wed September 9th, 4:06 pm 
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This chapter is splendid. Everyone I talk to is adoring the story.

By the way, Miss Taylor was (perhaps not surprisingly) wrong. We definitely have diplomats in the Motherland. In fact Ladyton is a hive of to-ing and fro-ing between diplomats from the different Nations and the Imperial Diplomatic Corps.

My brunette mother was a Novarian diplomat and was continually involved in the subtleties of counterbalancing the (vast) Trentish influence in Ladyton with a tacit alliance with Jenilow, while taking care not to upset Loveton too much (as Jenilow is, of course, a part of Arkadya).

The Archuchesses of Jenilow, for their part, who are in fact Princesses and rule a territory that could easily be a nation in its own right, have always aspired to a degree of autonomy (without foregoing the benefits of the Arkadyan umbrella) and have often found a tactical ally in Novarya. And so forth.

The whole Jenilow-link aspect of the Golden Arrow project, (in the complex negotiations for which my 'nettie was closely involved) was concerned with bringing Jenilow closer to Ladyton (via the Golden Arrow super-bullet hover-train, which traverses the central Novarian plains at supersonic speeds, Jenilow City is brought as close - in terms of time - to Ladyton as Trintitiana is), both diluting the Trentish influence a little more and making Jenilow dependent on Novarya in the matter of a vital transportation link.

The fact that we do not have wars certainly does not mean we do not have diplomacy!

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 Post subject: Re: A Maid's Duty *UPDATED: CHAPTER SEVEN*
PostPosted: Wed September 9th, 8:20 pm 
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Thank you, Sushuri-chei! That was very illuminating. I meant to imply, though, that the specific office Miss Taylor's parents occupy probably didn't exist in the Empire. Something similar to a Tellurian Vice-President.


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 Post subject: Re: A Maid's Duty *UPDATED: CHAPTER SEVEN*
PostPosted: Thu September 10th, 1:23 pm 
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Just wondering - does Miss Tiff know any blondies who don't like soldiers?

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You know - just a thought.


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 Post subject: Re: A Maid's Duty *UPDATED: CHAPTER SEVEN*
PostPosted: Thu September 10th, 6:17 pm 
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Nationality: Trentish
Miss Leland,

You have a real feeling for real girls, and it is really rather wonderful to be really reading it. Please go on. Soon. I yearn to hear of Miss Tiff's substitute for flashcards and billiards.

Miss Sakura,

A point well made.


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