04-10-2018, 06:03 PM
Evelyn's proposal was better written than Nikolai anticipated. Her hand in the composition was obvious. None but a channeler could accurately depict the nature of the power as it was described within. Interestingly, she captured the essence of the dueling natures of their powers. Fingers flipped idly through the pages, he wondered whose wording was whose - Trano or Evelyn.
His eyes floated beyond the opacity of the screen, landing in a haze into the background. Evelyn was ... distracting. He had to use his emotions carefully. A sliver shown to Evie; another to the public; a final to his councils. Until the world was his, control was mandatory.
If Evelyn was the key, then the lock to be turned began with the ball. They would use it to fracture the political landscape in the States. One by one, he would watch them crumble. Until it all fell in his lap.
He waved the screen minimized and sent it off to his advisers for analysis. From the little he read, it was sufficient. Unless advised otherwise, he would sign it and announce the declaration at the ball itself.
Meanwhile, every detail of that night had to be perfect. The show of prosperity, opulence, luxury and peace was of the utmost importance. From the flowers to the speeches, Nikolai had the final say over every decision. While his best speech-writers conjured their magic, Nik went back to thinking over what show of the power would be best. The city - nay, the world - was already awed by the creation of the Arch. They knew the might of the Ascendancy. They have seen his immortality. What emotion to play next? Fear? He hesitated to use such forces of darkness too often. Majesty? Perhaps.. Perhaps. The guests were his aristocracy. They would welcome a kingly embrace.
He scrolled through the day's reports next. Each Consulate's executive summary only took a few minutes to read. When he came to Marcus', the shadow of a smile touched his lips. The boy was growing well into his new position. He read of Ms. Northbrook's new accommodations, and he momentarily turned upon the memory of speaking with the girl.
Which led to thoughts of the ascendants. He'd visited briefly with Michael and two of his best that morning over breakfast. A not-so-subtle show of force for the Secretary and the two Congresswomen.
Trano was building a similar empire of channelers. Nikolai guaranteed it, even if he lacked official proof of the campaign. The Americans would be stupid not to be doing so. Although stubborn fools, stupid Dawson was not. And Nikolai did not underestimate the younger Trano. They thirst for Custody blood, and they called Nik the tyrant.
Perhaps there was one among them whom could answer freely.
He straightened his suit jacket across his shoulders, tugged the cuffs straight, touched his hair a moment and aimed for the path below.
"Tell Al'Shaddis I will be there in five minutes. Have the men ready."
His eyes floated beyond the opacity of the screen, landing in a haze into the background. Evelyn was ... distracting. He had to use his emotions carefully. A sliver shown to Evie; another to the public; a final to his councils. Until the world was his, control was mandatory.
If Evelyn was the key, then the lock to be turned began with the ball. They would use it to fracture the political landscape in the States. One by one, he would watch them crumble. Until it all fell in his lap.
He waved the screen minimized and sent it off to his advisers for analysis. From the little he read, it was sufficient. Unless advised otherwise, he would sign it and announce the declaration at the ball itself.
Meanwhile, every detail of that night had to be perfect. The show of prosperity, opulence, luxury and peace was of the utmost importance. From the flowers to the speeches, Nikolai had the final say over every decision. While his best speech-writers conjured their magic, Nik went back to thinking over what show of the power would be best. The city - nay, the world - was already awed by the creation of the Arch. They knew the might of the Ascendancy. They have seen his immortality. What emotion to play next? Fear? He hesitated to use such forces of darkness too often. Majesty? Perhaps.. Perhaps. The guests were his aristocracy. They would welcome a kingly embrace.
He scrolled through the day's reports next. Each Consulate's executive summary only took a few minutes to read. When he came to Marcus', the shadow of a smile touched his lips. The boy was growing well into his new position. He read of Ms. Northbrook's new accommodations, and he momentarily turned upon the memory of speaking with the girl.
Which led to thoughts of the ascendants. He'd visited briefly with Michael and two of his best that morning over breakfast. A not-so-subtle show of force for the Secretary and the two Congresswomen.
Trano was building a similar empire of channelers. Nikolai guaranteed it, even if he lacked official proof of the campaign. The Americans would be stupid not to be doing so. Although stubborn fools, stupid Dawson was not. And Nikolai did not underestimate the younger Trano. They thirst for Custody blood, and they called Nik the tyrant.
Perhaps there was one among them whom could answer freely.
He straightened his suit jacket across his shoulders, tugged the cuffs straight, touched his hair a moment and aimed for the path below.
"Tell Al'Shaddis I will be there in five minutes. Have the men ready."