Page 7 of A Mere Formality

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The comscreen behind her erupted in a series of beeps and almost immediately somebody hammered on her door. She ordered it open, and Robert burst into the room.

“Get dressed! The Vunta overbid us!’ “What?”

“The Vunta just offered Nagrad the thirty billion he wanted in a Brotherhood Pact. He gets exclusive rights to raiding on the fourth world of the Colchida Cluster. We must bid higher, but I have to get approval before I can commit. It will take the com launch at least twenty eight standard hours to reach us with the answer. We must stall until the Treasury approves the expense. We have eight hours until the sun rises to come up with a plan.”

Deirdre crossed her arms on her chest. “What do you mean stall?”

“He’ll want this matter concluded now, before the Vunta back off, but he can’t just back out of the marriage, so he’ll demand a higher amount and when we fail to deliver, he will claim to be gravely insulted.”

“She could pretend to be sick,” Nina said.

“No, then he’ll claim we’re insulting him by withholding her. It has to be something else, something he can’t weasel out of.”

An idea snapped together. So simple and so ironic. Deirdre smiled. “Robert?”

“What?”

“How much smut do we have in our databanks?”

Chapter 9

“I feel dirty.” Fatima laid her head back. “I don’t think I can take anymore.”

“Found another one,” Michel Rashvili announced. “The man on the back, legs bent, the woman holds his hands on the sides and squats onto his…”

“The amazon,” Deirdre and Nina said at the same time.

“Did that one,” Robert said.

“I thought the amazon was the one in a chair.” Michel yawned.

“No, that’s side-saddle.” Nina yawned too.

“Has anyone actually done the amazon? I mean like in real life?” Michel wondered.

“I have.” Duke of Rodkil yawned. “It’s overrated.”

Deirdre blinked her eyes, trying to stay awake. Whatever embarrassment she had possessed had fled hours ago.

Robert surveyed the room strewn in  p**n ography sheets and sex toys. “It looks like we had an orgy.” He stifled a yawn, gave up and yawned. “Now look what you’re started, Rashvili. Don’t you know yawning is contagious? We all need a nap.”

Nina put her head down and snored.

“Highly appropriate post-orgy, I would say,” His Grace murmured.

The comscreen flared and the face of the chief of security came into the view. Nina jerked awake.

“We have contact with the Reigh. They want the bride and they want her now.” Timur squinted. “What exactly have you all been doing?”

Chapter 10

The booster shot coursed through Deirdre’s veins, spreading a slightly cool sensation all the way from her toes to her scalp. She felt light as a feather. Twelve hour from now she would pay the price by passing out, but for now she felt fantastic.

The elation evaporated when she entered the meeting room. The Reigh guard had been doubled. Nagrad’s face promised a storm.

“Are you prepared to accept my terms?”

The question wasn’t aimed at her, but the harsh tone lanced her anyway.

“Of course, Lord Nagrad,” Jason smoothly said.

“Thirty billion?” The disbelief was plain on Nagrad’s face.

“Indeed. However, before the moneys and the lady can exchange hands, there is a small matter that requires your attention. A mere formality.”

“What matter?”

The Duke smiled. “In accordance with the formal union contract, the bride requests a full accounting of her duties.”

“I’ve delivered the full accounting during our first meeting.”

Not even a single glance in her direction. I am just an animal to be sold and bought.

“Yes, but the accounting states, and I quote, ‘…and to not shun the husband’s request in the bedroom, lest she sabotage the begetting of an heir.’ This fails to specify the exact nature of your attentions.”

“This was also covered in our first meeting.”

“But my lord,” she said, keeping her voice as sweet as she could. “That was but a very small part. The subject must be explored fully before I commit to you. I have a right to know what is required of me.”

“We’ve taken the liberty of preparing a short list of all ‘duties’ known to the bride.” With elegance of a dancer, Jason slid the reader card onto the table. “All that remains is for us to examine each entry and to determine whether or not it will enter into accounting. Should you require anything beyond what is detailed here, we will do our best to incorporate it into our list.”

Nagrad slid the card into his reader. It took him a good minute to scroll to the end of the list. His eyes blazed. “How many entries are here?”

“Five hundred and forty five.” The Duke’s voice couldn’t have been sweeter.

“I request all of them,” Nagrad said.

“In accordance to entry two hundred and three, will you then submit to having a cast of your anal canal so the dildo employed to penetrate your anus can be made to perfect proportions?”

The Reigh bodyguards froze.

Nagrad read the entry. “I won’t be requesting that one.”

Deirdre leaned forward. “With all due respect, my lord, I insist you review each one to avoid such misunderstandings.”

He finally turned to her. “I refuse to submit to this idiocy. The list could take days to review.”

“It’s my right under the law. You must review the list with the witnesses present. You have made an offer of a formal commitment. It cannot be withdrawn lightly.”

She could almost hear him grinding his teeth. “You are not a Reigh. You have no rights.”

“Yes, I do. You gave them to me when you delivered the statement of full accounting of my duties and requested a dowry. You have followed the law up to this point as if I was a Reigh bride. Does the doctrine exist only until it suits you, my Lord?”

For a moment she thought he’d reach across the table and strangle her. Instead he sat back. His face relaxed it must’ve taken a monumental effort of will on his part and the Reigh lord picked up the reader. “Very well. The first section is titled ‘Terms and Devices’. I believe we can skip that one.”

“Would my lord care to define the term anal plug?” Deirdre asked. “How about the difference between the soft and a hard one?”


Tags: Ilona Andrews Science Fiction