Mr. Barlow has been gone for almost three hours now. After serving his purpose, providing the Moreno family with an upsetting update on Sebastian’s who-knows-whereabouts and ruining the extravagant brunch that the Archer’s had arranged, he excused himself quietly. He offered to answer any more questions the family had, for which there were multitudes to be asked and a general drought of confidence that he could (or would) answer any of them. Barlow vacated the premises expeditiously, leaving the mourning family and their estranged hosts alone with a private cellar filled with decades worth of small-batch vinification. Varietals of every shade are ready to be served by paid hands.

…

The party has moved from the dining room to the living room; a large space occupied by tall marble columns, three dark brown leather couches, a lit fireplace, and a glossy black piano which is currently playing itself. A slow jazzy tune fills the room.

Elisia and Flavius sit next to one another, slumped over and providing mutual support. They each hold a glass of red wine of which they sip without hesitation, staring distantly into the flames of the fireplace. Genevieve lays face down on one of the shorter couches.

‘Thanks for the help, sis.’ Berkeley thinks.

He sits upright, slightly buzzed, but he has been carefully pacing himself. He is way behind the rest of the room. In the center of the living room, there is a large maroon rug and a coffee table without legs. Rather, it’s a coffee platform that hovers above the ground, carrying a half-empty bottle of pinot noir and several glasses. Helena snaps her fingers, summoning the coffee platform to her. It floats over gently, stopping within arm’s reach. She immediately fills a glass for herself. Out of everyone in the room, she is the most alert—her tolerance out-paces her present company by a mile. However, slouched next to her, Jasper is doing his best to maintain appearances. But he is faltering.

"Shall I order another round of hors d'oeuvres?" Helena asks with a smile.

"Oh, we’ve already had so much—" Elisia begins.

"No! No! It’s no bother at all! Really, I am just loving the company. It’s been ages since I’ve seen the family." Helena chirps. She snaps her fingers twice and the sommelier appears.

"Are we ready for our next pour?" he scans the room nervously.

"No, no. We will need a plate of appetizers." She explains.

"Ah. Of course. I can bring a plate of lamb chops to pair with the Cabernet I unbottled twenty minutes ago—"

"No, no. We’ve taken a detour towards the heel of a splendid twenty-one seventy-one pinot noir."

"Crimson Crescent?" The sommelier deduces.

"Oh, you are good! I have a perfect pairing in mind, follow me to the kitchen!" Helena gets up and leads the sommelier out of the room, leaving Jasper alone on the couch.

An opportunity.

Berkeley moves over to the edge of the couch, getting close to Jasper.

"So hey, man. Congrats on the engagement." Berkeley says.

"Hm? Oh! Thank you." Jasper perks up as soon as Berkeley engages with him. "So um… Berkeley. What’s it like to serve in the Royal Guard?

"It’s been a rewarding experience. I’ve met a lot of really good people on the job and I’ve been compensated well for my work. The officers’ living quarters have been an amazing upgrade. It’s good to be out of the barracks."

Jasper laughs. "I bet. I’ve been there before. Nothing beats the feeling of finally being free from those cramped bunks. How often do you see the Halcyons?"

"I’ve only seen the royal family a few times. Though, one time, my unit escorted Cressidia to her flight."

"That is excellent! Quite an experience it must be…" Jasper’s words sink into his glass as he raises it to his lips.

"So… how about you? You mentioned that you’ve been in the barracks before." Berkeley moves the conversation forward.

"Ah, yes." Jasper adjusts his posture so that he is sitting upright. "I work for Starsieg corporate as a defense contractor. I can’t really go into detail about that. All I can say is business has been good." He laughs. "Maybe that’s what caught Helena’s eye. Her being a member of the founding family may seem like a conflict of interest, but I think she’s more attracted to seeing success in her legacy."

Jasper’s rambling echoes into his wine glass as he finishes it off. His eyes light up as he opens up about himself.

"But before that, I was an officer in the Vanguard for five years. The exact division, I cannot divulge… however, I can say that I’ve seen my fair share of orbital deployments during my service." He continues.

"Orbital deployment? You were boots on the ground?" Berkeley becomes genuinely interested in the conversation.

"That’s right. North American reconnaissance. They dropped our pods from the stratosphere during nightfall. Though, again, I can’t get into the details… this was back when Knights were still active in the theatre…" He looks around as if someone is listening.

"Whoa! You got to see Knights in action?"

"I did." Jasper laughs again.

Flavius snaps his fingers, and the coffee platform floats towards him, bringing the almost empty bottle to the other side of the room. He splits the little that remains between his and Elisia’s glasses. Jasper opens the armrest that he has been leaning on to reveal a small cooler built underneath. There is a bottle of champagne stored inside. He picks it up, shrugs, and removes the muselet from its cork.

"Seeing those machines in the battlefield… it’s nothing like what you’d see in a museum. Watching those colossal warriors stride across the plains… it was magnificent." He continues.

Jasper is suddenly holding a thin silver object that with a flick of his finger, becomes an unfolded knife. Berkeley is startled by the speed at which Jasper produced the weapon—it’s as if the blade apparated from out of his palm. It’s a bit unsettling.

Holding the bottle at an angle, Jasper takes the back of the blade and swiftly runs it along the bottle’s neck, removing the annulus and cork in one lightning-fast motion. Foam pours out from the top of the bottle and splashes on the floor. Elisia and Flavius look over at the commotion for a moment.

"Nicely done." Flavius nods.

"Why, thank you." Jasper says.

He fills his glass before offering the bottle to Berkeley, to which he declines. The parents return their attention to the flames. Jasper summons the coffee platform and places the opened champagne atop.

He takes a long sip. "The conflict on the jewel was very different back then. We were still fighting the Earth Restoration. They were nothing like these pirates we’re dealing with now. The rebels would have never taken your brother hostage."

There it is.

Sebastian was taken by pirates.

Foam continues to bubble over the top of the decapitated champagne bottle. Jasper takes another sip.

"You know, the rebels hardly ever took hostages. Their resources were always too thin to feed another mouth. A lot of good people were killed without hesitation. A lot of sacrifices were made." He says.

Jasper’s eyes wander towards the flames. They too become distant. Berkeley hopes that he’ll continue to ramble, but Jasper has become silent, lost in his memories. Berkeley will need to pull the information out somehow. But he isn’t even sure what it is he’s looking for.

Maybe a name?

Would that be enough to go on?

To go on what?

‘What am I doing here?’

Berkeley begins to have second thoughts. But something drives him forward. He doesn’t know what it is, but something inside him needs to know more. Berkeley decides to pull a bit more on Jasper’s ego.

"You know… hearing that just reminds me how easy I have it up here. Earth sounds dangerous." He says.

Jasper laughs. "Maybe so. Maybe so. But life is, as you say, easy for me these days. Though the jewel remains treacherous. It always has been. And that rebellion… no matter how many times we’ve crushed it… it still lingers…"

He shakes his head while attempting to speak under his breath. But whether it’s the wine or the distracting trauma on his mind, Jasper says the final bit of his monologue loud enough for Berkeley to hear:

"…the Dead Tyrants," He scoffs. "They’ll never learn, will they?"

The Dead Tyrants.

Is that a name? Is this what he’s been looking for? For Berkeley’s sake, hopefully so. Because as Jasper continues to shake his head, he seems to wake from a drunken daze. He gives Berkeley a subtle side eye—as if he’s said too much. The bubbles from the champagne have subsided.