Sitting quietly as she ate her meal, Thisbe realised she was probably the only person happy about the late arrival. No one was giving her suspicious looks as all eyes were upon the elephant in the room... or perhaps shark in the water was the better analogy. Next to an actual Zuumult in the imperial palace, Thisbe’s status as also a supernatural being of the night was down right ordinary and unremarkable.

As such she generally focused on enjoying her meal, only taking a few moments now and then to chit chat with either Plynx (who was seated beside her) or trying to get to know O’myinis a bit better. The currently armour form AI was rather quiet, however. Like Svetlana and O’tmyil, though, Thisbe and O’myinis now had something of a mental bond which meant that Thisbe could tell there was no fear or distrust from O’myinis about her vampiric nature. The AI woman was merely naturally quiet.

Which left most of Thisbe’s focus on the food and drink she was offered. Some of it was terrestrial food she knew, possibly imported or possibly thrown together in some sort of culinary lab. Most seemed to be Lanthonean cooking, though. She could tell that much by how blue it was. Which was... interesting when it came to the meat. 

Another interesting thing was her drink, which was what was providing her actual sustenance. She was being served proper nourishing blood. None of that animal blood that could technically prevent starvation but tasted foul and offered no significant energy; which was what was usually served to vampires by the living. However, the truly interesting thing about the blood she’d been given was that she tasted no emotions whatsoever in it. 

It was simply plasma and cells.

They must have grown it in a vat. She had tried vat grown blood before, but Earth science wasn’t good enough to make it actually pass muster, however much various groups tried to help vampires with integration. It seemed that contact with the galaxy was going to change all that.

After the meal ended tables began to part further, opening up a space to mingle and converse. A small band stepped out to play some soft music. Not anything one could really dance to, but apparently it wasn’t that sort of party. A shame. Thisbe liked dancing with the others. Well, apart from Augusta who was still repressing herself any time she wasn’t throwing herself at Svetlana in an effort to drown out her self disdain with physical pleasure. Considering she had accept her interest in women it was unclear just what Augusta was still beating herself up over, but it gave her a bad aura for anyone that could read emotions the way a vampire could.

Thisbe had chalked it up to Catholic guilt.

Watching the various guests and dignitaries at the party from the head table, however, Thisbe realised that it also wasn’t seeming like the sort of party where one got up to mingle. Not while everyone was whispering fearfully about Empere Ouzzhen (the name had been provided to Thisbe as one of the few things she’d gotten out of O’myinis). 

Glancing over, Thisbe could tell Svetlana was severely disappointed. It didn’t take an empath to work that out, so being an empath it was more that Thisbe couldn’t help but tell. The mood was radiating from her with impressive intensity.

After another minute or two of everyone sitting around, Svetlana stood up, her hovering chair flinging off and bouncing off the wall with enough noise to make sure everyone’s eyes were on Svetlana. She then marched around the table and up to the band.

“Play something more lively... something with a beat,” she said. “Please.”

The musicians (a collection of different species playing a similarly diverse range of instruments) seemed confused for a moment. Then one lit up and began playing something that sounded downright jazzy. 

Svetlana smiled then walked up to the table where her partners (minus O’tmyil, whom she was still wearing) were sitting, starting at the end closest to the band and furthest from Thisbe. Holding a hand out, she offered it to Augusta. The other woman looked surprised, but then stood up and accepted, heading onto what was now the dancefloor. 

It being Augusta she slid to a formal dance, despite the music. The results were something close to salsa, but it managed to fit. And draw fascinated eyes from the galactic audience. 

Once the first song finished Augusta headed to stand beside the band while Svetlana then took Bokarza’s hand. Having a Kobaroian to play for the band shifted songs to something a bit slower and deeper. Not only was there a bit of a size mismatch as the pair danced, but Bokarza allowed Svetlana to lead, making the difference even more obvious.

The next song she danced with Vivian, and the quiet whispers from the rest of the guests were pushing something closer to conversations one might expect from a party. A few guests had even tentatively stood up and begun to chat with Augusta or Bokarza.

When Plynx and Svetlana were dancing (to a hyper and higher pitched sort of tune) Plynx’s father took his wife up to join them, followed by Mynx (specificall M’gnyz) dancing on her own near the band.

And then the music went back to the pseudo-jazzy style as Svetlana held her hand out for Thisbe. What amazed her was, despite having seen Svetlana just dance with each of her wives for the past few minutes (and showing clear loving intimacy with each)... despite currently being clad in O’tmyil’s armour form... the look in Svetlana’s eyes as she waited for Thisbe to join her allowed Thisbe to feel like she was the only woman in the world at that moment. It was amazing just how much love Svetlana’s heart held.

Of course Thisbe accepted, heading onto the dance floor and happily matching the mood of the music with some dance moves she hadn’t pulled out in decades. To her joy Svetlana was able to keep up well enough (perhaps O’tmyil was helping just a little). They even had some playful back and forths, Thisbe showing some of the fancier moves she’d learned and letting Svetlana do her best to copy them. When Svetlana managed to quite thoroughly mess up and nearly tripped Thisbe caught her and the two descended into giggles. 

Only as the music slowed a little and Svetlana began to hold her close did Thisbe realise the dance floor had filled up. Vivian and Plynx were dancing for the moment, as were Bokarza and Augusta (the former leading as she showed Augusta a Kobaroian dance). It was quite the shift in mood. Svetlana’s joy was truly contagious.

The taller woman then leaned in, offering a small kiss to Thisbe’s forehead. 

“You certainly know how to cheer everyone up,” Thisbe said softly.

“It seems I do... though my main goal was cheering you all up... especially you,” Svetlana said. “You deserve so much better than things have been.”

The absolute love and kindness in her eyes left Thisbe flustered. It was so--

Someone was approaching them. Svetlana hadn’t noticed. No one else had noticed. Then again, no one else had Thisbe’s long history of prowling in the shadows, hunting and being hunted by other whispers in the night.

Her eyes lifted over Svetlana’s shoulders to spot Empere Ouzzhen sliding through the crowd. Only a fellow supernatural could manage such a feat while as large as Ouzzhen was. As large and as feared.

Those dark eyes met Thisbe’s and their face flashed with slight surprise. Surprise followed by a smile as they strode the last few paces to reach Svetlana’s side. There was some genuine joy to that smile, but beyond that... a Zuumult was apparently too alien for Thisbe to read all the emotions of.

“Excuse me...” they said in a surprisingly soft tone, though they still surprised Svetlana with their presence. “I believe the Earth custom is to ask ‘may I have this dance’?”

With that they held a hand out towards Svetlana.

“It seems such fun,” Ouzzhen added with another amicable smile.

“I...” Svetlana began, before glancing to Thisbe.

Having seen the wonders Svetlana had worked on Bokarza all Thisbe could do was shrug. Perhaps it was worth a chance to let Svetlana’s charms end another galactic conflict?

Not certain what to do with herself, Thisbe drifted towards the edge of the dancefloor where M’gnyz was swaying happily to the music beside her sister who was slowly making her way through a drink. Reaching their side, Thisbe kept her eyes on the empere while out of the way of others dancers.

“Thisbe, you’re... wait, Svetlana’s dancing with Ouzzhen now?” Plynx said, staring in horror.

“For the moment,” Thisbe said. “There wasn’t really a polite way to turn down their request to dance.”

“B-but still... they’re a Zuumult. They might have been alive since the days of the first dynasty, when their people ruled the galaxy with an iron fist,” Plynx protested.

“That is incorrect,” Agent Lee said, suddenly at their side and making Thisbe jump.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed someone approaching, it was simply that she hadn’t noticed that someone was him. Considering there were rather few Humans present at the moment it was significantly more impressive than his usual ability to blend in. It seemed almost magical... though he was definitely Human who knew what friends he’d made and blessings he’d gained.

“Pardon?” Plynx asked.

“The Americans have long had close ties to the Corporate Alliance, who in turn have kept close ties with the Exiled Empire,” Agent Lee said. “The current Empere is relatively young by Zuumult standards.”

“Still, they’ve been running their rump empire, that gets your hands dirty,” Plynx protested.

“For only about 1.8 galactic standard years,” Agent Lee replied. “The previous empere died quite recently... unpleasant man. Or, perhaps he had merely been passing himself off as male due to terrestrial society’s patriarchal tendencies. That does seem probable, though I believe it is best to continue using the last pronoun set I was aware of him using.”

The question of what was correct protocol in such a situation seemed to cause Agent Lee to become rather lost in thought.

“W--wait, there was a Zuumult empere on Earth recently? You met them?” Plynx asked.

“That is classified,” Agent Lee replied, glancing towards Thisbe.

She remembered the little visit that she, Vivian, Svetlana, and O’tmyil had made with Agent Lee when they’d been in Halifax. The only reason O’tmyil had been allowed to know any of that was her bond to Svetlana. Otherwise only the Canadians in the royal family were informed, and only they were allowed to know what had happened. Having experience with past secrets Thisbe had no issue keeping quiet.

Thinking of O’tmyil, however, Thisbe realised something. “If it were really such a bad idea to dance with them surely O’tmyil would have prevented it?”

“I... I suppose,” Plynx said, shaking her head slowly before finishing her drink.

“One must just go with the flow, sister-Plynx,” M’gnyz replied with a smile on her face. “Svetlana-sister-in-law is good with people. She-empress shall handle this well, I-M’gnyz think.”

“I wish I had your confidence, sister-M’gnyz,” Plynx said, before waving a server drone over to refill her drink.

-

Dancing with someone that much taller than her had proven tricky, but Empere Ouzzhen had seemed patient as they learned how Earthling dances worked. All along they had worn a smile and Svetlana got the impression they found the style amusing.

“If we meet up again I can probably show you something more formal,” Svetlana said as the song ended. “Well, maybe... the height difference may be too much for that.”

“Whatever the case, I hope there shall be a next time,” Ouzzhen said, watching Svetlana with those pitch black eyes. “This was quite lovely. Though I suspect that your people will place a ‘not for resale’ marker on invitations sent out in future, which may make returning tricky.”

That was followed by a laugh that showed off those mystifyingly sharp teeth. Seeing them, the only question on Svetlana’s mind was if it was technically gay feelings she was getting, considering the other person’s genderless nature.

Whatever the case those long and well toned limbs built to a whole other scale and the sharp carnivorous features were leaving Svetlana more than a bit flustered. (Maybe she was a touch hopeless.)

“Well, I’m sure they can’t stop the empress from sending out personal invitations to her own home,” Svetlana said with a grin of her own.

“No, I doubt they could... that would be a touch too far even for the ministers of the Galactic Commonwealth,” Ouzzhen replied, before running a finger along Svetlana’s upper arm. “I should leave before I overstay my limited welcome, but I will await your invitation.”

The touch had sent a shiver of excitement down Svetlana’s spine... one of very different meaning from the shiver she felt running up O’tmyil’s. Their emotions mixed in the bond between them, the result of which left Svetlana’s heart in a very confused place.

Ouzzhen then tapped their forehead as a galactic bow, much to Svetlana’s surprise. In fact she nearly forgot to mirror the gesture, and then found O’tmyil somewhat reluctant to allow her too. Still, it was done in the end, a gesture of respect between theoretical equals.

“You can’t marry her, you know,” O’tmyil whispered in Svetlana’s ear.

“I can’t marry you or Thisbe either,” Svetlana replied just as quietly.

“Yes, but in this case it means there’s no legal basis for any political followup on your actions, unlike the union you have helped forge between the Kobaroic and Issiod’rian royal families.”

“It’d mean something on the Zuumult’s side, though,” Svetlana replied as she left the dancefloor to go check on Thisbe. “They’re an absolute monarchy, aren’t they? What the empere says is policy is policy.”

“Which also means that everything the empere does is politics. Everything.”

That was a somewhat unwelcome reminder. There was no denying the logic of it, however. While Svetlana’s actions could be used by politicians as a way to pounce on public opinion to help push through changes they could just as easily be denounced and ignored. The galactic council could even deny her a marriage licence... they had denied her one with Thisbe, despite her protests. Sure, that had technically been against the laws of the Galactic Commonwealth, but still. 

Meanwhile, when it came to the ruler of the Zuumults the old line of ‘I am the state’ was firmly applicable.

-

After Ouzzhen had left the post coronation party had gone smoothly, Svetlana doing an acceptable job of rubbing elbows with various dignitaries. Still, it had been a long day, resulting in Svetlana and her wives passing out roughly as soon as they were brought to the imperial apartment within the palace. 

O’tmyil, however, had no need to sleep. From time to time she needed to power down or restart for maintenance, but her general sleep cycle was a matter of courtesy to the others. And so she stood in the now dark rooms, somewhat surprised to see that nothing had changed. Every piece of furniture. Every work of art. It was all exactly where it had been three hundred years ago when she had last been in these rooms. 

Wiggling her fingers, needing some time to adjust to no longer being armour for Svetlana, she vaguely wondered if it showed a healthy mindset from those who had maintained the palace. The Second Dynasty deserved respect, but had that crossed the line into worship at some point? 

Or was it her that was being unhealthy, clung to fears of the past that were no longer relevant? Perhaps not every aspect of the First Dynasty needed to be feared... perhaps even the Zuumults themselves could be allowed to rejoin Galactic society. If Ouzzhen’s statements were true. After all, how long had they been fighting a doomed war from the edge of the galaxy?

“You know, I do kind of like a planet without a proper sun. Whoever picked this place had taste.”

Blinking, O’tmyil turned to find Thisbe seated in one of the large armchairs, looking out a grand window. Because, of course she would also be awake. Vampires needed far less sleep than humans.

The view she was looking up at, the sight of the sky above Throne World was breathtaking. It was a sign of being home again to O’tmyil. She had not been built here, but she had spent centuries looking up at those skies and they had grown comfortable.

“Most supernaturals have a disdain for bright light, even if vampires may be outliers who are best excluded from the data set,” O’tmyil replied, offering Thisbe a smile.

“Hey now, I’m pretty sure I handle the sun about as well as your average redhead does,” Thisbe replied with her own smile, before standing up and walking over to take O’tmyil’s hands.

That came as a surprise. They both had many shared loves, but she and Thisbe had not spent much time together alone. Especially not with physical contact.

“It must have been quite the day for you... so many memories,” Thisbe said, the soft smile and kind look in her eyes showing that she understood.

Perhaps she was only two hundred years old, so the full time scales that O’tmyil had experienced were beyond her, but she had also started human. Started with a ticking clock of mortality that she had long ago escaped. So she grasped at least the greater shape of it all.

“Being in my armour form added an extra layer of surrealism to it all,” O’tmyil said, shaking her head a little.

Her siblings kept that way far more than her, but she was the head of the family. She had to act for herself more... but it made her true form seem so strange sometimes. Handing over control so totally... there was a thrill to it, but that faded as minutes turned to hours.

Ah, but that was a foolish thing to complain about and so she shook her head. It was not for an artificial being such as herself to complain about serving their intended function.

Her motion was stopped, however, by Thisbe reaching up and placing her hands on O’tmyil’s cheeks. The smaller woman looked at her softly, before raising onto her toes. It still wasn’t quite enough for her to reach O’tmyil’s face, but bending to meet her felt so natural in the moment. 

And the kiss itself felt so right. Androids. Supernaturals. They were both created by organics to fill roles, even if one was on purpose and the other accidental. Both were left as outsiders in the galaxy as a result. Both were set against one another so often. O’tmyil had been built to fight Zuumults. In a way, she was an embodiment of the Second Dynasty’s first act against supernaturals.

So it made so much sense that Thisbe needed to have O’tmyil on her side when they faced the institutions and biases that built up since... and, on some level, O’tmyil felt the need to apologise to her. Against her normal standards of decorum she found herself leading Thisbe to a nearby settee, them both awash with complex emotions and needs for someone who was both alike and opposites as clothes were shed. Neither had much experience taking the lead, but O’tmyil was able enough to replicate things Svetlana or Vivian had done.

To her surprise Thisbe’s fangs were soon in her shoulder, though there was no pain involved, only a moment of passion.

“Mmmph... I’m glad you two are getting... getting along so well,” Svetlana said, stumbling out of her bedroom, knees weak, “but I’ll admit it’s a little hard to sleep well I’m feeling... this.”

The last part was said with a general gesture towards the two of them.

“Apologies,” O’tmyil replied.

Thisbe withdrew her fangs to speak. “Sorry, Svetlana.”

“Would you care to join us?” O’tmyil offered.

“Uh... between our mental bond and Thisbe’s psychic empathy vampire powers that sounds... actually, that sounds amazing, and I hope I’ll survive,” she replied, with a nod.

“I will monitor your vitals,” O’tmyil replied, while Thisbe waved her over.