In this scene from Surrender Love, Luc is doing a favor for the Empress, a fellow immortal, but his heart isn't in it.
Unwanted Meetings
With breakfast behind him, Luc tapped a vid-link. "Good morning, James. We'll use the party hoversine today. Since we're representing the Empress, replace the Lucsondis flags with hers."
"Right away, sir." The android shot him a salute and signed off.
If the Empress expected Luc to impress the governor of Notidisia, the holographic disguise should help. Flying royal flags meant his long black party hoversine would appear as a light armored Tyssen Battle Hover. From outside, no one would realize it wasn't what it looked like: a green-and-brown camouflaged troop carrier with the cargo capacity of a thimble. Because his vehicle carried her personal approval within its codes, every security barrier at the starport would accept him, including the Praetorian cohort guarding the royal gate.
In the breaking dawn, Luc strolled along the pool on his penthouse roof. He took advantage of the rooftop's shields and swam every day he could, all year long. The cool morning air helped him focus and offered calm before the storm of his day. The pool's still water reflected the vivid orange and crimson gleaming in the sunrise. He paused beside it, allowing the quiet to infuse his senses.
As he reached down to touch the water, a vibration sent a shiver across the surface, announcing the hoversine.
Luc headed back toward the wide landing platform on the other side. He arrived as the camouflaged vehicle rose above the edge of the building. Black flags emblazoned with Destoiya's clenched white fist snapped in the wind, even though the air was calm. No one seeing this would realize it wasn't what it resembled.
The vehicle settled onto the ground and James exited, sharp as always in his black chauffeur's uniform. He opened the rear door. "Good morning, sir."
"James." Luc ducked into the roomy interior with its spacious, reclining seats and the full bar of a party hoversine. He settled back, stretching his legs, but upon recalling what his empress required, he sat up, ramrod straight.
Intimidate a woman.
How revolting.
Most times, his stature and solid black eyes intimidated on their own. He stood a head taller than the average person.
Owing loyalty to both the Empress of Tarth and the Sempervian king plunked Luc right in the middle of their power struggle. This time, they both wanted the same thing. He could not play one against the other or use his considerable leverage with either to do things his way.
Earlier in this lifetime, he'd earned a name for ruthlessness as the Harbinger. People feared him. The Harbinger would not think twice about intimidating anyone.
Did people fear Luc Saint-Cyr? Only in business.
They envied more than feared his shrewd business acumen, knack for buying at the right moment, multiple trusts and charitable foundations.
His people guided humanity to keep them safe. Sempervians used their accumulated wealth and combined talents to protect the weak. To stand in solidarity with an ally.
So why not use diplomacy for this?
Perhaps Pietas was right. He'd grown soft. This was the longest life he'd ever lived. Living forever did not mean you got old.
Sempervians were warriors.
Warriors died young.
Luc pressed fingertips against brow, fighting the onset of a headache. He might have to obey, but he didn't have to like it.
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