pad.
Antoni's father saw him looking. “Magnificent, isn't it?”
“Yes,” he sighed, hypnotized by the way the lines flashed when they reached the tip of the crystals. “How do you think it developed?”
“I don't know. Might have something to do with the planets stunted tectonic activity. What I do know is that when I was younger I used to take your mother out here and we'd have lunch in the old houses up there.”
“Really? What are they like?” he questioned.
“Simple holes, but when you walk in the light reflects off your skin and your body looks like it's glowing.”
“Wow.”
They walked up the cobblestone path, lined by a grove of trees, and up to the front steps where two men dressed in white robes were waiting to announce their arrival. They opened the doors and watched as the crowd parted so they could walk up to the center of the room where Arturo Varossi was waiting with his wife, Jaquelyn.
“Your Highness,” he said as he ran up to shake the Emperor's hand. “Welcome to my home. I didn't know you'd be coming.”
“It was a spur of the moment decision. This is my son Antoni.” The man bowed and the prince gave him a jovial smile. He wasn't sure what to make of the Varossis. The man was always a little too nice, but was said to be a shrewd businessman. The house was beautiful, small by imperial standards, but it offered the finest amenities, and suited the tastes of the upper class.
“I'd like to have a meeting with you upstairs if possible.”
“Business or pleasure?” the man asked.
“It's a bit of both, actually. Antoni,” Victor turned towards his son who was looking around the room trying to find a nice cocktail. “I'll call for you when I need you. Stay close to Magnus.”
“Yes, father.”
The two disappeared upstairs and the wife left after offering a respectful bow. Antoni followed Magnus who seemed to have an intuitive sense as to where the alcohol would be located.
There was a small bar at the back of the room where a crowd of men were gathered. They were laughing at something, but they stopped and stepped aside when they saw Antoni. He was used to the effect he had on people, but he didn't like it. Just once he'd like to sit down with somebody and have an open, honest conversation, but it was completely impossible because they would always treat him differently. Those who were dissatisfied with the state of the Empire would scold him. Ambitious men and women would try to gain his favor. Rafael mocked him. Nobody took him for who he was, because all they saw was his title. It wasn't fair. He wanted to be like everyone else.
Instead, he walked up to the bar, over to where the bartender was waiting for him. “Your highness!” He was beaming at the chance to serve the prince. It was sickening. “What can I get you?”
“I'd like a glass of red wine, please.”
“Oh, sure. Anything in particular?”
“I just want to get drunk.”
A young woman leaning against the bar laughed and looked over at him, “Probably not the best place to do that.”
“Oh. Why not?”
“You don't want to embarrass yourself in front of all of these important people, do you?”
“In that case,” he turned to the bartender, “hand me that bottle of whiskey.” He pointed at a gallon of whiskey sitting on the top shelf. “Give me two shot glasses and a bottle of bourbon for my guard.”
“Sure.” The man did as he was told.
“Do I have to put sleeping powder in this thing, Magnus, or will you fuck off like you're supposed to?”
Magnus grabbed the bottle as soon as the bartender set it down on the bar then walked over to a table in the back corner.
“Have a shot,” the prince turned to the young woman who was watching the entire affair with a huge grin on her face.
“Sure,” he poured the shots and handed her a glass, “to getting shitfaced.”
“To getting shitfaced.” They clinked their glasses together, and he poured the burning liquid down his throat, trying to
Antoni's father saw him looking. “Magnificent, isn't it?”
“Yes,” he sighed, hypnotized by the way the lines flashed when they reached the tip of the crystals. “How do you think it developed?”
“I don't know. Might have something to do with the planets stunted tectonic activity. What I do know is that when I was younger I used to take your mother out here and we'd have lunch in the old houses up there.”
“Really? What are they like?” he questioned.
“Simple holes, but when you walk in the light reflects off your skin and your body looks like it's glowing.”
“Wow.”
They walked up the cobblestone path, lined by a grove of trees, and up to the front steps where two men dressed in white robes were waiting to announce their arrival. They opened the doors and watched as the crowd parted so they could walk up to the center of the room where Arturo Varossi was waiting with his wife, Jaquelyn.
“Your Highness,” he said as he ran up to shake the Emperor's hand. “Welcome to my home. I didn't know you'd be coming.”
“It was a spur of the moment decision. This is my son Antoni.” The man bowed and the prince gave him a jovial smile. He wasn't sure what to make of the Varossis. The man was always a little too nice, but was said to be a shrewd businessman. The house was beautiful, small by imperial standards, but it offered the finest amenities, and suited the tastes of the upper class.
“I'd like to have a meeting with you upstairs if possible.”
“Business or pleasure?” the man asked.
“It's a bit of both, actually. Antoni,” Victor turned towards his son who was looking around the room trying to find a nice cocktail. “I'll call for you when I need you. Stay close to Magnus.”
“Yes, father.”
The two disappeared upstairs and the wife left after offering a respectful bow. Antoni followed Magnus who seemed to have an intuitive sense as to where the alcohol would be located.
There was a small bar at the back of the room where a crowd of men were gathered. They were laughing at something, but they stopped and stepped aside when they saw Antoni. He was used to the effect he had on people, but he didn't like it. Just once he'd like to sit down with somebody and have an open, honest conversation, but it was completely impossible because they would always treat him differently. Those who were dissatisfied with the state of the Empire would scold him. Ambitious men and women would try to gain his favor. Rafael mocked him. Nobody took him for who he was, because all they saw was his title. It wasn't fair. He wanted to be like everyone else.
Instead, he walked up to the bar, over to where the bartender was waiting for him. “Your highness!” He was beaming at the chance to serve the prince. It was sickening. “What can I get you?”
“I'd like a glass of red wine, please.”
“Oh, sure. Anything in particular?”
“I just want to get drunk.”
A young woman leaning against the bar laughed and looked over at him, “Probably not the best place to do that.”
“Oh. Why not?”
“You don't want to embarrass yourself in front of all of these important people, do you?”
“In that case,” he turned to the bartender, “hand me that bottle of whiskey.” He pointed at a gallon of whiskey sitting on the top shelf. “Give me two shot glasses and a bottle of bourbon for my guard.”
“Sure.” The man did as he was told.
“Do I have to put sleeping powder in this thing, Magnus, or will you fuck off like you're supposed to?”
Magnus grabbed the bottle as soon as the bartender set it down on the bar then walked over to a table in the back corner.
“Have a shot,” the prince turned to the young woman who was watching the entire affair with a huge grin on her face.
“Sure,” he poured the shots and handed her a glass, “to getting shitfaced.”
“To getting shitfaced.” They clinked their glasses together, and he poured the burning liquid down his throat, trying to
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