Meeting with the Council of Lords and Elders
Clark was given little time to see all the wonders the central government building had to offer. Within minutes of exiting the hovercraft, he as well as the rest of the entourage, with the exception of Alura and Kara, were taken inside a spacious, heavily carpeted room. It was outfitted with comfortable chairs and a table that held refreshments of colorful fruits and carafes of juices and wine. Seated at the table were two men, both of whom appeared to be in their late sixties. But remembering his conversation with Zara, Clark suspected appearances were deceiving, and that they were much older. Both men stood when the group entered the room. They approached Lady Polara.
She greeted them with a bow of her head and turned to Clark. “Kal-El, allow me to introduce Mur-En. He is one of our most innovative architects. He and many others created several of the buildings and principal streets that you see in the city of Kandor II and most of the government buildings outside the city.” She touched the arm of the tall, thickset, broad-shouldered man. His grey eyes sparkled as she introduced him, belying the age suggested by his longish white hair. He wore a white toga-like garment edged in the scarlet that marked him as an Elder of the Provinces.
Mur-En’s voice boomed very much like Perry’s as he bowed and said, “It does me good to see you in the flesh at last! One knows our ways must seem strange to you, but we hope the adjustment shall be swift. Please Polara, finish the formal introductions and let Lord Kal-El and the others sit down. They shall need their strength to meet the others.”
The older woman’s eyebrows rose together in wry amusement and gave Mur-En the faintest of nods. “True, my friend, let me be quick.”
She indicated the man standing next to Mur-En. He was of medium build and slender with a bald head and a youthful expression. He also wore the robes of the council, edged in scarlet.
“Kal-El, this is Cla-Le, our family healer. He has personally cared for your Uncle Zor-El during his terrible affliction. I strongly believe without his support and diligence; your uncle might have perished long ago. These men are among some of our staunchest allies on the Council of Lords and Elders.”
The healer gently brushed the compliment aside. “Your uncle Zor-El is determined to live the best life imaginable under his current physical limitations. I helped wherever possible. I believe New Krypton must move forward as a people to survive in this world and sometimes change is a little painful. Yet it must be done for the good of all.”
Clark bowed and said, “Thank you Elder Cla-Le. I have not yet met my uncle Zor-El, but look forward to it immensely. Also, thank you for standing with my grandmother and the rest of the El family. Change is important if this …Splinter War is to end.”
The group made themselves comfortable and sat down at the table, eating honeyed fruit and spice water. The fare was light, pleasant, and yet strangely filling. Clark had not eaten for hours so the respite was welcome. On this world with a red sun, he had to constantly remind himself of his limitations. Going for hours and sometimes days without eating as he had done on Earth was not only unhealthy, but dangerous. His body still needed to adjust to all the metabolically different ways it now needed to be refueled rather than absorbing the rays of what his fellow Kryptonians referred to as Terra or Sol III.
Once everyone had eaten their fill Polara spoke. “As Cla-Le alluded to changes earlier. I shall initiate the first with the Council today, to ensure that they do not insist you marry Zara as soon as you enter the Convoca.”
“How?” Clark asked, hopefully. Wasn’t the final joining of bondmates one of the reasons Zara, Ching, and Trey had traveled to Earth, in order to retrieve him? He had been told it was a necessary step in placing the rightful ruler in power.
Polara said, “The Convoca shall be told you are still new to our ways and will require an adjustment period before exchanging vows with Zara.”
Clark shook his head and said, “There might be objections, saying we shared a month on the ship together. That would be adjustment enough for some.”
Polara laid her hands on the table’s metallic surface, took a slow breath, and then looked up at him. It was an outward display of months of pent-up frustration. She said wearily, “Preventing this bonding ceremony from taking place will be my last official function as provisional ruler. Any hint that you do not support me on this will have severe repercussions.”
A quietness fell over the room. Everyone, with the exception of Clark, was aware of the constant meetings Polara had been conducting since taking on this role to placate counselors both official and other persons of great influence. All of this behind the scenes work was done to keep Nor’s poisonous influence at bay, to prohibit him from splintering the Council of Lords and Elders further.
Polara did not want her grandson forced into a politically arranged marriage with a relative stranger, the results of which might lead to unhappiness for them and more pain for New Krypton. True, as tradition dictated, they had been bonded as infants. But Kal-El had been raised on another world with traditions and customs of its own. He had reluctantly accepted this role, but being forced to marry less than a day after arriving was both unkind and unreasonable. To the public, allowing the young people this adjustment period would permit time for friendship and, hopefully, attraction to grow.
Clearing his throat, Mur-En said, “Polara, perhaps we can add another layer to your argument.”
“Yes?” she asked.
Turning to Zara he said, “You were … are an unmarried pilot on active duty with our Air Squadron?”
She nodded gravely, “Temporarily detached. But I think I see where you are going with this.”
“Just so. Every available experienced pilot is desperately needed in defense against Nor’s attacks. Here is where we will use some of these outdated laws to best advantage.” Polara said with a gleam of mischief in her violet eyes, the once overpowering exhaustion pushed aside.
“Excuse me, what is Mur-En suggesting?” Clark asked in bewilderment.
“A married woman of the noble line cannot join the military or go into combat unless she is a firstborn, which Zara is not.” Mur-En said.
Rubbing his chin, Healer Cla-Le said, “After Kal-El greets his people, the announcement will be made that the formal bonding between he and Lady Zara will not take place at this time.”
“If carefully worded, it can be seen as a gesture of goodwill and sacrifice that these young people are making.” Mur-En said.
Clark asked, “How many noblewomen are in the military?”
Zara hesitated and then answered, “Hundreds, and the number grows with each day. Sadly, it took the Splinter War for the Council to allow them to step out of the background and prove their worth. I know for a fact some of these women have hidden their relationships. If they marry and it becomes public knowledge, it would mean giving up their career and returning home. Losing highly trained aviation personnel at this time would be disastrous. If Nor wins, women and even men of the middle and lower classes will be returned to a feudal state.”
Clark stood up and laid his hand on Zara’s shoulder. “Then that announcement to the Council of Lords and Elders must come from both of us. Statecraft or no, why should we be permitted to wed when others cannot? It will prove my heart is with the people of New Krypton. A bonding ceremony should be a time of celebration, not done swiftly and under a cloud.”
Lady Polara nodded in approval and then her lips quirked into a tiny smile. “You learn quickly, Kal-El.”
Trey spoke. “Agreed my Lord! Once Nor is defeated, your bonding to the Lady Zara shall be a lavish, yet… tastefully restrained occasion.”
While the discussion of marriage, bonding, and political intrigue swirled about, none had taken notice of Commander Ching of the family Hia. Since arriving at the Cosmodrome he seemed to have faded into the background, speaking even less than normal. Upon entering the government buildings, he remained by Zara’s side, as befitted his role of bodyguard. Nonetheless, as the group discussed delaying the bonding ceremony, Clark noticed that he had moved to stand in a corner, away from the others, his body and facial features as tight as a closed fist.
He remembered aboard ship sensing the link of attraction between Ching and Zara, as well as Lois’ suspicions about the depth of their relationship. It would explain why Ching rebuffed all attempts at friendship and why their sword and ordnance training sessions were fractious at best.
As soon as possible, he needed to personally reassure the Commander he had no intention of carrying out the Council’s intentions for himself and Zara.
Clark looked at the group of people gathered in the room. His grandmother’s rebuff had stiffened his resolve. Now was the time to make who he was perfectly clear. “Coming to New Krypton required no small amount of sacrifice on my part as well.” He touched the ring beneath the fabric of his robes and continued, “Leaving my adopted home, family, friends, and the woman I love …”
Cla-Le and Mur-En exchanged puzzled glances and then stared at the young Prince. Before Clark could explain, Trey hastily cut in, “Perhaps now is not the time to mention the Lady Lois.”
“Excuse me,” Cla-Le said ignoring Trey and looking at Clark. “Whom are you speaking of my lord prince?”
Red-faced, Trey interrupted again, “Ah… the lady in question is a minor person on Sol III. She worked at the same employment situation as Prince Kal-El. She is no one for us to concern ourselves with.”
Clark was appalled at Trey’s blunt dismissal of Lois. Only he, Ching and Zara had ever met his fiancée, and what he just said in this room about her would have far-reaching consequences. But before he could speak, Commander Ching stood back from the wall and there was the unmistakable tone of anger in his normally modulated voice.
“My lord Cla-Le, Prince Kal-El has forsaken any happiness with Lady Lois when he came to New Krypton. He has given his heart to her and she to him. Engaged persons of the noble class on New Krypton wear bracelets to indicate they are affianced; she wears a special ring indicating the same. To refer to her as a ‘minor’ person disrespects her own sacrifice as well.” He said this while glaring daggers at Trey.
“Commander Ching …” Trey said tightly.
In some circles, such words indicated treason, yet heedless of what anyone thought, Ching continued, “Others who are not of the aristocracy have given up their heart’s desire to put an end to this conflict. Such actions may not be visible to you or the Council of Lords and Elders, but they are just as valuable and …deeply felt.”
The room’s occupants again became silent. They were thinking of the disruption to all their personal lives since this conflict had brought about. Cla-Le wanted to return to pure medical research rather than caring for the wounded from the interminable raids and skirmishes brought against the holdings, estates, and collectives in the outer provinces.
Mur-En desired to continue designing buildings that utilized native materials in combination with Kryptonian growth crystals. He wanted to expand the provinces’ boundaries and build new cities with hybrid designs. With the state of the war, such construction projects were impossible.
Lady Polara wanted to have done with life as a political person and retire to her own lands. But before that could happen, she wanted rulership of New Krypton to be firmly held in competent hands.
Clark understood the anguish in the guardian’s voice. It was the voice of a man fighting for the woman he loved. He had heard it in his own voice countless times when Lois was in danger from Intergang, the Prankster, and many others. He looked at Zara’s sad expression, her large brown eyes downcast. She knew sacrifice of the heart all too well, he suspected.
The timing of Ching’s words could have been better, but nonetheless they reminded them of all that for which they were truly fighting.
Elder Trey may have been a stickler for tradition and following the rules, but he also knew the importance of conceding a point. Bowing respectfully to first Kal-El and then to Ching he said, “Please accept my apologies. Commander Hia speaks well. Lois Lane is a gentlewoman of the truest sense. Perhaps, it is time I started to recognized that fact.”
Clark nodded, unknowingly falling into his Superman stance and tone were clearly in evidence when he said, “Accepted, Elder Trey. Understand this; I am here to help; you came to me on Earth. Respect the man that I have grown to be there and the people who helped shape me. Be they of Earth or Krypton.”
Polara studied her grandson, eyes shining with familial pride. Kal-El had stood up to Trey as his father had stood up to her late husband, Tral-Ax, when objections were made regarding his marrying Lara. This young man could hold his own ground, requiring only a little guidance from her. “We are coming to realize that Kal-El.” She said courteously while looking at Trey. “Those of us in this chamber shall respect Lady Lois.”
A loud knock was heard on the antechamber door. All turned to Kal-El, tacitly recognizing he was the one to grant permission, not Lady Polara.
“Enter.” Clark said in a clear, strong voice.
Lord Jen-Mai appeared, having changed into the ceremonial robes of the Council of Lords and Elders, white robes bordered with scarlet. Wearing a bland expression, he gave a short bow and said, “Lady Polara and my lord Prince Kal-El, all await you in the Convoca Hall.”
Standing up from the couch in an act of respect, Clark stepped aside to make way for his grandmother, but she demurred and bowing low at the waist said softly, “Putting Trey in his place was a good start. That must continue. Jen-Mai should always say your name first rather than mine. Enter with Zara into Convoca Hall. I shall present you with the Circlet of Rulership and henceforth we shall follow your lead. Always remember there will be those who think you are not worthy. Know in your heart that you are of the House of El. Speak as you did just now to Trey and they will come to respect First Lord Kal-El.”
If Clark was surprised by what she said, it did not appear on his face. Now he understood her words from moments before. Carrying the burden of rulership, even a provisional one, was an honor and yet a terrible duty. Ideally, the bearer of such a position wanted to hand the government to its rightful ruler without lingering troubles. Polara acknowledged she was tossing her untried grandson into a hornet’s nest of both political and cultural challenges and felt she should have handled matters better.
Even with their short acquaintance he was certain with his grandmother’s able assistance and that of others, they would overcome these challenges and extinguish Nor’s rebellion. Over the next few days there was much for him to learn. Yet for now, it was time for him to make his first appearance with the Council and establish his rulership.
He beckoned Zara, taking her hand and holding it high, and exited the antechamber with her. The others followed in order of rank, a silent Ching bringing up the rear. The young couple walked down the brightly illuminated corridor with grace, concealing the maelstrom of emotions they were both feeling.
On either side of the corridor, twenty life-size holographic images of the past First Lords were displayed. Each wore the flowing white robes of office. Clark stopped abruptly when seeing the image of Jor-El. With his shock of white hair and piercing dark blue eyes his countenance was so serious and purposeful. As he stared, he wondered if he would ever grow into such strength and maturity. Besides the hologram that held Jor-El's image were three additional plaques, but without holograms. One read: Lord Zor-El, the second, Lady Polara Lo, First Lady (Provisional) The third: Lord Kal-El.
He swallowed and whispered to Zara, “Why are those spaces empty?”
“They are only to be filled when the person has died or abdicated.”
Clark touched the ring around his neck and thought of Lois.
“Lord Kal-El? Jen-Mai enquired with a peevish tone. “The Council of Lords and Elders…?”
The group started walking again until they reached a set of massive high double doors painted in crimson, and with decorative mullion in the form of a sun inset made of a large red gemstone. Automatically the doors swung open to reveal a large circular room with a high domed ceiling painted in vermilion.
It reminded Clark that such a color harkened back to the Renaissance when painters used powdered mineral cinnabar to create the brilliant red-orange hues. The process was expensive and time consuming, so only the most prosperous of merchants and royalty could afford such richness. That very sense of artisan skill, wealth, and privilege was conveyed by this space.
A large round table that looked like it was made of burnished copper and was surrounded by comfortable high-backed chairs commanded attention. Seated in those chairs were thirty-eight men. Twenty-eight represented the high noble families and the remaining twelve represented the provinces. Clark noticed two chairs were still vacant. One was more ornate than the others. According to his studies of government, New Krypton’s First Lord must be seated there.
Standing by the door was Mar-Ur, the Convoca Speaker who with somber tones, announced Kal-El’s presence, “All rise for Prince Kal of the house of El.”
The men stood and as one bowed at the waist while Clark led Zara to the smaller chair and indicated that she be seated. A look of uncertainty shadowed her face for an instant, and then she made herself comfortable in the chair. Murmurs of surprise, delight and dismay echoed throughout the chamber. He ignored them and instead turned to Lady Polara who walked towards him holding a gold circlet with vertical lines deeply etched into its surface.
“My lord Prince Kal-El, only issue of Jor and Lara, I hereby relinquish my duties as provisional leader and cede them to you. Carry this charge with the honor which befits the son of so many noble rulers.”
“I accept this position and shall carry it with dignity and respect towards all inhabitants of New Krypton.” Kal-El repeated the words taught to him by Trey and knelt. Slowly his grandmother placed the symbol of rulership upon his head.
Again Mar-Ur’s voice was heard, ringing out loudly and joyfully, “Hail the First Lord, Kal, son of Jor, late of the House of El! All hail the Lady Zara, future wife, and mother of his heir!”
The Lords of New Krypton stood again, shouting the announcement, and filling the enormous space with a myriad of voices, as if wishing all within the provinces to hear: The rightful ruler was at last here!
Kal-El stood impassively waiting for the tumult to die down. The first words spoken by him to this body were going to be unpopular, but they needed to be said. Kal-El was going to set the tone of his sovereignty now as a vehicle for change on New Krypton.
Before the last voice died down, Kal-El took Zara’s hand and coaxed her to stand. When everyone realized the First Lord and his lady wanted to speak, silence fell, and they took their seats.
“Thank you, my lords, and elders of the provinces. Lady Zara and I will remain betrothed but shall not wed soon. As a valued and desperately needed member of our Air Service she cannot bond with me and continue in that position.”
Zara then said, “We wish to honor that tradition as well as respect the rights for others to make the same decision. I can best serve our people as one of the protectors in the sky.”
Kal-El added, “While I shall serve here in the Convoca by working with the Council and leading our troops against Nor’s forces.” That last sentence came as a surprise to Polara and the others. Wisely, they remained silent.
A low grumble of dismay and anger filled the room. Some turned to their companion and asked if they had heard correctly. Elder Trey, ever the historian shook a gray head, sighed, and marked on a tablet the negative reaction as well as the positive one that was heard only seconds before. Polara could not help but look across the room and notice Jen-Mai in his seat, with a smug smile of triumph cross over his face.
She thought darkly, someday, you miserable excuse for a counselor, that self-assured look on your face shall be wiped clean.
An immensely old man wearing an equally antiquated council garment carefully climbed to his feet, and pounded a heavy metallic staff onto the intricately tiled mosaic floor. He pointed a stubby finger first at Polara and then Kal-El and in a raspy voice growled out, “The words may come out of his mouth, but your hands are in this trickery, Lo! He’ll not wed Lady Zara? Blackwater! We approved of this scheme to use a badly needed space vessel for the journey to Terra and retrieve Jor’s son. Now he announces they are to merely remain betrothed. What form of chicanery is this?”
Polara, standing behind Kal-El, stiffened at the ancient one’s words. It took an effort to restrain herself from speaking out, much as it pained her to do so. Either the new First Lord would prove himself by handling Akar-Ar and his ilk now or their perception of him would be that of her puppet.
“My lord,” Kal-El said firmly, “Lady Zara and I came to this decision together after consulting with Elder Trey and my grandmother just as any leader of state should listen to those of greater experience. Unlike others who traitorous actions led to their removal from this body.”
Murmurs of agreement could be heard among the council.
Zara said, “There will be a bonding ceremony, but not now. My Lord Kal-El and I request a time of adjustment to our future roles. During this Splinter War, we must work together and not replicate the insouciance of those who came before.”
Akar-Ar turned a jaundiced eye to Zara and said in slightly more respectful tone said, “No one takes this matter lightly my lady, least of all me. I am one of the last of the council remaining from our destroyed home. With all that has happened, it is time to see the line of succession settled. Our people require it. Nay, they demand it!” He pounded the staff again as if to punctate his words.
Polara felt now was the time to ask permission to speak. “My Lord Mar-Ur?”
Mar-Ur said, “The Convoca recognizes the House of Lo.”
“Lord Akar-Ar. Your words are of ‘decided’ relevance, and all here are aware of your nearly one century of service to our people. But that is twice you have spoken without requesting permission. Even one with your years of service must abide by rules created to keep order. My own grandson informed me moments ago that he is no one’s puppet. As I yield to him, please do the same.”
The old man looked at Polara, then at those assembled. There was tension in the great hall, as they awaited Akar-Ar’s next move. He leaned on the cane and spoke, his voice still rasping, and heavy with great age. “I beg apology to this august body. It was wrong of me to speak so. This war has strained us all. I wish to hear what the son of Jor has to say.” With those terse words he sat down.
A tall man, with thick auburn hair that was just starting to gray, named Ken-Ja of the Dakor Province requested permission to speak from Mar-Ur.
Mar-Ur’s voice boomed from his position at the head of the great table and said, “The Convoca recognizes Dakor Province.”
Opening his hands palms up, Ken-Ja asked, “My Lord Kal-El, Lady Zara, your reasoning is sound. Perhaps a compromise is in order?”
Kal-El, Zara and the rest of their group leaned forward, anxious to hear what this younger man had to say.
“Neither of you is wearing affianced bracelets, rather than a bonding ceremony, perhaps an official exchange of bonding tokens can take place? The occasion can be broadcast through the information outlets to all the provinces. Such a ceremony will be seen as a positive event for all New Krypton.”
Kal-El and Zara exchanged looks and then agreed. Glancing over to where Ching stood by the entryway, neither of them could miss the expression on his face, which couldn’t be described as anything other than relief.
Within an hour, wearing flowing gray ceremonial tunics edged in black, Zara and Kal-El stood before Trey. In a brief ceremony, they exchanged ornately carved silver and gold-colored bracelets. Again shouts of joy and acclamation filled the hall.
***
The day had been long and tiring. All Kal-El wanted was to leave the swirl of people surrounding him, crawl into bed, and sleep. Aching muscles, tired eyes, and jaw-cracking yawns informed him of the toll the day had taken on his now normal body. After so many years of wishing to be Earth normal, how he missed his superpowers!
With two members of the Sapphire Guardians* by his side, First Lord Kal-El walked down a long, burgundy carpeted corridor that, connected the government buildings with the Royal residence.
As they neared the residence, they passed through a beautiful archway made of a wood-like substance, sparkling with glittering metallic accents. He could see Dever and several others, no doubt the residence’s household staff waiting for him.
Surprised, Kal-El approached the older man and said not unkindly, “Please, why is everyone awake? It is late. All of you should be asleep.”
Dever bowed deeply and said with utmost dignity. “No my lord. Lady Polara’s assistant Vitta informed me of the betrothal ceremony. This is the first night in many a moon-round that a male member of the House of El shall sleep in the Royal Residence. Those of us who knew your father are gathered here to honor that fact. If we did not greet you as a body, such a breach of protocol would be highly disrespectful. The day has been demanding. Could we offer my lord a small repast before retiring?”
Kal-El sighed inwardly, every inch of him wanted nothing more than to lay down and sleep for hours. But seeing how eager – despite the lateness of the hour – the staff, some of whom were quite elderly, was to please him; he could not disappoint them.
“Please lead on.” He said in a voice that masked how exhausted he was.
Dever smiled and with a brisk clap of his hands the other servants scattered to their places. The Sapphire Guardians returned to the Royal residence entrance while Dever and Kal-El walked into a dining room. It was a little larger than his mother’s kitchen, and the size was the only similarity between the two rooms. A rectangular metallic table suitable for six held a place setting for one. A bowl filled with brightly colored fruit in the center caught his eye. He realized that with the exception of eating in the antechamber before meeting the Council of Elders and Lords he had eaten very little.
Unbidden, a low growl emanated from his stomach. He caught a gentle smile appear on Dever’s lips.
“Many was the night that your father arrived from either his laboratory or the Convoca ravenously hungry. I had some of his and your mother’s favorite dishes prepared. I hope they meet with your approval.”
Kal-El made his way to the table’s head and sat down. Immediately, a footman appeared and poured him a cup of warm amber liquid, which smelled oddly like Oolong tea. Taking it in his hands, Kal-El took a tentative sip and was pleasantly surprised that it tasted like his favorite beverage! Dever placed a teal and orange bowl containing a golden liquid in front of him. The mouthwatering aroma that touched his nostrils reminded him of carrots and asparagus. Protesting growls came from within again. Swiftly, a footman placed a wide white cloth with the texture and feel of silk on his lap and then stepped back.
Gingerly, Kal-El picked up the spoon and tucked in. The soup was warm, flavorful and most of all filling. Once the soup was finished, a plate with vegetables and meat smothered in a creamy pink sauce was next.
Dever said, “My lord, please try this dish with the cream sauce, it was your mother’s favorite.”
Next, a dish which reminded him of calamari, orzo and mushrooms swimming in a rich spicy green sauce was placed in front of Kal-El. The mélange of earthy aromas swirled around his nose. With a renewed zest, he consumed this course as well.
Dever, pleased that the new First Lord approved, beamed with pleasure each time the First Lord cleared his plate. When the meal was finished Kal-El wiped his mouth and stood. Rapidly, a footman sprang forward to clear the remnants of the meal away.
Kal-El, now very grateful to have eaten such an excellent repast said, “Thank you, Dever. The chef did a splendid job. The meal was far superior to anything I have eaten in a long time.”
With a low bow Dever said, “We, all of us on staff, are honored. Now, the hour is late. Permit me to take you to your private apartments.”
As the two men departed the dining room, Kal-El had the distinct impression the staff were both excited to have someone to serve and relieved that he appreciated their staying up late to take care of him. Later on he would have to thank them individually for such diligent care.
They entered a corridor and walked up a broad circular staircase with a flowing arc that gave their ascent a dramatic flair. As they reached the top of the staircase, Dever opened the first door to the right, which led to a spacious apartment. The main living area was filled with comfortable seats surrounding a white marble table in front of a console that Kal-El suspected was a communications center. Perhaps this was where he would record his holographic messages to Lois? He would ask Dever in the morning.
“My lord, this is your private sleeping chamber. Lights!”
At that single word, Kal-El had to blink from the explosion of light and the sight that greeted him. He hadn’t been able to see the details of the apartment in the half-light from the corridor. Such stateliness and unapologetic luxury of the private chambers was unlike any Kal-El had ever seen.
A large, scarlet, metallic, geometric latticework hung mid-air behind the king-sized bed, which was covered with plush sleeping silks and thick pillows. The bedding shone in the colors of sun gold and taupe, and the pillows were decorated with a gentle wave pattern. The lighting was dramatic. Clear pendants were suspended from the ceiling. There were other layers of understated décor. A matching set of plush chairs and tables on each side of the bed transformed what might have been an otherwise industrial style bedroom into a sophisticated retreat. The lights, that had bothered his eyes when they snapped on previously now gave off a soothing illumination, welcoming him to rest.
At the foot of the bed was an upholstered bench with a set of dark green sleeping garments. He was eager to get out of the gray robes of betrothal and change into them.
With a bow, Dever said, “May your slumber be deep and restorative my lord. Should you have need of me, my room is down the hall.”
“Please… thank the staff for all their hard work. I … I plan on getting to know them all during my time here. Right now it is time for me to sleep. It has been a very long and eventful day…”
“That it has, my lord.” With a quiet smile, Dever again bowed and departed.
Kal-El wanted to tell him it was very unlikely he would be calling him tonight. He didn’t think it was right to demand so much of the elderly gentleman. He looked forward to learning more about him and the others who resided and cared for the royal residence.
The day had been exhausting and all he wanted was to crawl into bed. Aching muscles, tired eyes and jaw-cracking yawns informed him it was time for sleep. He changed into the clothes that were laid out, got into the bed, which was even more comfortable than it looked. He called for the lights to shut off. Within minutes, he was sound asleep.
Last edited by Morgana; 11/13/24 03:58 PM.
