The Gemman women were allowed to see them off as the rest of the household women began trickling into the dining room to quietly clear dishes. None of the praetorians looked worse for the wear, and Justin reminded himself that there was some truth to Atticus’s earlier words: a little domestic work was nothing compared to the type of warfare they normally engaged in, even if they preferred the latter.
“Did you make the pancakes?” Justin asked Mae softly when she came up to him.
“I was in charge of putting jam into those little individual serving dishes everyone had,” she returned. “Did you notice those?”
“Oh yeah,” he said, as Lucian strolled over to them. “We were just having a big discussion about how artful they were, weren’t we?”
Lucian favored her with a grin. “Absolutely. Never seen anything like it. Is it selfish of me to hope you’ll be out touring with us, even though it’s probably better you go with Justin to the temple?”
Mae’s amusement faded. “Do we know anything more about that?”
“No,” said Justin. “Atticus is still looking into it and will let you know after we—”
A cracking sound jolted the three of them out of conversation, and they turned to stare as Carl’s second oldest son, Jasper, stood over one of the household women. Running through yesterday’s introductions (or lack thereof), Justin was pretty sure she was one of the concubines, the youngest of the lot. She sprawled back on the floor, and an angry red mark on her face indicated she’d just been hit. Carl stormed over.
“What’s going on?” he demanded.
Jasper pointed an accusing finger. “That whore was brandishing her legs for them!”
Carl’s face turned even redder than hers, and she cowered under his scowl. “The strap on my shoe got caught in my skirt, and I had to push it up to fix it so that I wouldn’t trip,” she said meekly.
“Next time, you trip and break your ankle,” growled Carl. Then, to Justin’s complete and utter horror, Carl struck the girl too.
Beside Justin, Mae jerked, and he held her hand, pulling her back. Anger filled her teal eyes as she fixed her gaze on him.
“It’s not our fight,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “Let it go.”
”It’s savage,” she hissed back. “Someone should do something.”
He tightened his hold, knowing if she truly wanted to get away, she could. “Not us. Not this time.”
Mae looked as though she might still act and then finally gave a reluctant nod. Justin nearly relaxed, and then, suddenly, Jasper lunged for the girl without warning. He was fast—but not nearly as fast as Val, who put herself between him and his victim, catching hold of his wrist as it came down for another blow. Jasper’s eyes widened, his jaw dropping as he struggled to form words.
“What,” he gasped, “do you think you’re doing?”
In the few seconds that passed, Justin could read the story unfolding. He was about to turn his fury on Val, and if he did, there’d be no stopping her from tearing him to pieces. Gone was the normally lighthearted woman Justin saw. There was a predator in her place, one who didn’t take well to seeing innocents abused.
“Val!” boomed Lucian. “Step away immediately!” He managed to sound as outraged as any good Arcadian man would in such a situation, but Justin suspected fear was actually the senator’s dominant emotion at the moment.
It was Mae who resolved things, however, by abruptly pulling Val away. From the look in Val’s eyes, she was probably the only one who could have.
Atticus hurried forward and immediately began uttering apologies. Carl didn’t look too happy about the turn of events, but he was too sensitive to the political balance at stake. His son, however, had no such qualms.
“Father,” he exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at where Mae still held Val. “Are you going to let her get away with that?”
“They will deal with that,” Carl said. He turned toward one of the older women. “And we will deal with her. Make sure this doesn’t happen again.” The older woman gave a curt nod and dragged the girl on the floor from the room. When they were gone, he turned a stiff smile on his guests. “Embarrassing. It’s what I get for saving money and going to one of the country salons. Don’t worry—Harriet’ll take care of things. Let’s go.”
“Father—” Jasper tried again. “Enough,” warned Carl.
Lucian wisely sent the praetorian women away as well. They went without protest, but Justin could see the anger in their eyes as they left.
This is what sets them off, he thought. Not painstakingly filling little cups with jam. They’re trained to be the strongest and the best, to fight their enemies and defend those weaker themselves. We’re asking them to stand aside.
Will following orders trump their instincts? asked Horatio.
That was a question for later, Justin supposed. For now, he had to continue on with the public relations game and their day of touring. Carl led the Gemmans out cheerfully, as though the incident hadn’t happened, but a slight cloud hung over Justin and his colleagues. No one was naïve enough to think domestic violence didn’t happen in the RUNA, but it certainly wasn’t openly accepted—especially over the baring of an ankle.
Everyone did their best to have their social masks back in place when they reached downtown Divinia, which displayed the same mix of affluence that Justin had observed on the bus ride. Government and religious buildings were well maintained, but more common dwellings and businesses reflected Arcadia’s patchy economy. Justin was happy to see the original capital building still stood and had been restored after the chaos and destruction that had swept Arcadia following the Decline. A number of less elaborate buildings flanked it, modern establishments that had been added on to carry the administrative burden of running an entire country. The original building made a prettier backdrop, though, and that was where they focused a lot of photo ops before going inside. Justin also finally got to see what passed as the Arcadian press. Considering that the government censored its media, he supposed it shouldn’t be a surprise that they got by on a handful of journalists, rather than the RUNA’s horde.
The Arcadian president, Enoch Campbell, had earned his office through a fixed election and looked pretty much like every other politician Justin had ever met. Apparently that was something universal across cultures. President Campbell and Lucian smiled and simpered at each other as they toured the capital building and made grandiose claims for the futures of their country. Some of those claims were even lightly touched upon at a pre-lunch reception, when the two leaders— with assistance from economic expert Phil—brought up the potential export of Arcadian oil to the RUNA. Considering Arcadia’s oil-rich southwestern borderlands were those the RUNA was constantly encroaching on, Justin supposed trade over invasion could be another promising outcome on this trip.
No one expected him to participate in that negotiation, however. He worked the room of government officials and made small talk, complimenting the country’s food and beauty. More of the same came when he was seated for lunch later that afternoon. They served cordials with lunch, and his tablemates were particularly fascinated to hear about his trips to various provinces. Tensions between their own countries might be taboo, but the provinces provided a safe third party that Gemmans and Arcadians alike could mock. All the while, Lucian and Campbell stayed thick as thieves, supposedly doing great things to usher in peace.
He needs more than pictures, Justin told the ravens. He needs those too, but he also needs to walk away from this trip with one concrete souvenir in place, whether it’s a trade agreement or something else.