In Service of the Queen

In Service of the Queen

by Davina Lee

An alternative future of women and their adventures

*

Author's Note

When we last checked in with Friend Adelaide, she had experienced a disturbingly inappropriate and sexually charged interview with her supervisor while the queen herself looked on behind one-way mirrored glass. As strange as the experience was for her, Adelaide persevered and even seemed a little joyful when she found out she landed such a high-profile job.

This chapter picks up later that evening.

As a refresher, Rebecca Brandt is the Empyrea City librarian who helped Adelaide find books about sign language (to communicate with Friend Beatrice) and the rules of football (to help her understand one of Tiara and Cosette's favorite pastimes.) These days, Rebecca is also a key lieutenant in Empyrea's growing resistance movement.

* * *

Chapter 19: The Upper Decks

Beatrice's Secret Girls' Cave

Adelaide sat cross-legged and barefoot on the floor in front of the sofa, with her suit coat laid across her lap and her head lolling forward. Adelaide's hair was hanging over her face and fluttered as she blew out a contented sigh. Beatrice sat behind her, perched forward on the cushion, with her fingertips digging into the muscles of Adelaide's shoulders.

"Friend Beatrice," said Adelaide, "You have magic fingers."

Beatrice said nothing, but continued massaging.

Adelaide chewed her lip for a moment and then reached up with her right hand to brush her hair out of her face. She tilted her head back and locked onto Beatrice's eyes. "You have magic fingers," repeated Adelaide.

Beatrice smiled. "Thank you," she said, as she continued kneading and rubbing.

Adelaide took a deep breath and let it out as she let her head roll forward again.

"

Pas de sommeil!

" chastised Cosette, as she rounded the corner with a second woman in tow.

"What?" said Adelaide, jerking her head up. "Wait. Friend Cosette. Why can't I, um...

sommeil?

"

"It means no sleeping," said the woman behind Cosette.

"Oh," said Adelaide, shifting her gaze. "Yeah. Figures you'd know that. Being a librarian and all. I bet you know all sorts of stuff."

The woman behind Cosette flashed a tight smile.

"So, Friend Rebecca," said Adelaide. "Are you here about that overdue book? Because I promise I'll return it just as soon as--"

"No," said Rebecca, her smile straightening out again.

"Oh," said Adelaide, hanging her head again. "A little to the right, please," she whispered, while shifting her body under Beatrice's rubbing.

"We need to talk," said Rebecca.

"Can we talk after I'm done with my massage?" said Adelaide. "Friend Beatrice is on a roll here. She's gotten all the tension of of my neck and now she's working my shoulders halfway back to normal."

"Friend Adelaide," said Cosette. "This is about La Résistance."

"I figured as much when I saw you two together," mumbled Adelaide. "I hardly ever see you anymore, Cosette, and when I do... I'm sorry. I shouldn't complain."

"You had a stressful interview," said Rebecca.

"You could say that," said Adelaide. "My tits are still sore."

Behind Adelaide, Beatrice made a

tisk-tisk

sound while staring at the top of Adelaide's shoulders and shaking her head. She moved her fingers back to a spot she had already visited and began digging in again.

"See?" said Adelaide. "You're interfering with Friend Beatrice's good--"

"Tell us what you saw," interrupted Rebecca.

Adelaide let out a huff. "While I was humiliating myself for that messed up interview? Or in general?"

"Let's start from the beginning. Your time working onboard Elysium."

"Right now?" whined Adelaide.

"Right now," replied Rebecca.

"Well," said Adelaide. "Everyday we go to the airfield and line up. Me and the other girls in the office pool. There's a tender dirigible that takes us up to Elysium. Just the girls who get picked for that day.

"My sister's one of the tender pilots. So that's kind of cool. I didn't know that at first, but then there was this problem with the ballast system and who should pop up from the gondola asking us to move sides, but good old Cordelia. A bunch of the office girls have the hots for her. It's kind of... Sorry, you probably don't care about that."

"Friend Adelaide," offered Cosette, "please tell us everything about your work so far. Even if you think it is inconsequential. There are often important details hidden in that which seems mundane."

"So your sister is part of the Self Defense Force?" asked Rebecca.

"Mm-hmm," said Adelaide, as she shifted her position to encourage Beatrice to spend more time rubbing in a particular spot. "She wanted to be an angel pilot, but she kept crashing during training. So I guess this is her backup plan."

"Would you say she's happy in her position as a dirigible pilot?"

"Last time we had dinner..." Adelaide chewed at her lip for a moment. "It's been a while, but... well, she wasn't overjoyed, but she seemed like she accepted it. Like it was a good opportunity. Why?"

"Would you say the experience of not being selected as an angel pilot has left her disgruntled at all?"

Adelaide looked up. "What? Why?"

It was Cosette who spoke next. "Friend Adelaide, have you shared any of your experiences with Cordelia?"

Adelaide shook her head. "I haven't really seen her for more than a few minutes since all this military mobilization business got wound up. She's pretty busy. I guess I'm just happy she's not on the front lines."

Adelaide shuddered, causing Beatrice to pause her kneading a moment and switch to gentle caresses of Adelaide's shoulders.

"I'm sorry, friend," said Cosette.

"So you don't know your sister's feelings about her involvement in the military these days?" continued Rebecca.

"No," said Adelaide, hanging her head and staring at her lap. "I suppose I could ask her next time--"

Rebecca Brandt shook her head. "Better to just watch and listen."

Adelaide jerked her head up and shot a glare. "Wait. You want me to spy on my sister? Is that what you're getting at?" Adelaide moved her gaze to Cosette and bored into her eyes. "You want me to spy on my own family? For La Résistance?"

Cosette frowned. Behind Adelaide, Beatrice mumbled another

tisk-tisk

and returned to work on a spot she had already massaged a minute earlier.

"If you hear anything that could help," offered Cosette.

"Spying on my sister?" Adelaide shook her head. "I suppose it figures. Not any less messed up than anything else going on around here, anyway."

"Friend Adelaide," said Rebecca. "This is not some schoolyard gossip. We're asking you to--"

"And I'm not some schoolgirl who needs coddling," Adelaide shot back. "I know what's going on. With Empyrea. With the queen. I get it. It's messed up. It needs to stop. I'm willing to help, but I refuse to believe Cordelia would be... She was a girl scout for friend's sake."

"She's in a position where she might have information," said Rebecca. "That's all I'm saying. You're in a position where she might share that information. Knowingly of not, she might reveal something that could help the cause."

"We're just asking you to listen for hints," added Cosette.

Behind Adelaide, Beatrice frowned and returned to a spot she had massaged twice already.

"Don't you want to know what I do up on Elysium? With the other office pool girls? If there's good information to be had, don't you think it's up there?"

Rebecca Brandt took a deep breath and let it out. "Yes, please tell us about what you do onboard Elysium, friend."

"Nothing," said Adelaide. "Absolutely nothing."

Rebecca turned to Cosette and frowned. Cosette shook her head in return.

"We type up reports. Transcription. Except the reports aren't handwritten, they're already typed up. We just type them again. It's pointless."

Rebecca and Cosette exchanged another glance.

"They come out as gibberish and then we file them away. Total busywork and a waste of time."

Rebecca raised an eyebrow just as she and Cosette turned to lock eyes on Adelaide.

"I'm pretty sure all the queen is interested in is having a pool of hot office girls she can pick from to stand up in front of a one-way mirror while her supervisors tell them to do..."

Rebecca held her lower lip in her teeth as she waited.

"What?" said Adelaide.

"Friend Adelaide," said Cosette. "Do you remember what any of the reports say? Before they are encrypted? Do you recall--?"

"Encrypted?" mused Adelaide.

"You say they are given to you already typed up and you can read them." said Cosette.

Adelaide nodded.

"And when you retype them, the letters are all jumbled?" asked Cosette.

"Encrypted communication," added Rebecca.

"You said that before," said Adelaide. "What does that mean?"

"It's a code," said Rebecca. "Designed to hide important information so it can't be read if its intercepted."

"Why would anybody--?"

"What does the typewriter look like?" asked Rebecca. "Is it like a normal office machine?"

Adelaide nodded, looked upward for a moment, and then shook her head. "There's extra wheels and gears. We were told very clearly not to touch them, so I sort of forgot. They're not always in the same position from one day to the next. Set by the supervisors, I guess."

"Would you be able to get one of those typewriters to us?" asked Rebecca. "You or one of the other office girls?"

Cosette shot Rebecca a glare.

"Are you kidding?" replied Adelaide. Look at what I'm wearing. Most of the girls wear a lot less. Just where did you think--?"

"How is your memory?" asked Rebecca. "Would you say you have good recall?"

Adelaide shrugged. Behind her, Beatrice blew out a sigh and let her hands drop. She flopped backward to settle into the couch cushion.

"You mean for what's on the original reports? Before they're... encrypted?"

Rebecca nodded.

"Invoices and stuff like that. Purchases and deliveries to and from outside Empyrea that's for sure, because they all involve an amount of currency. Pounds, Marks, Lira. I remember that from accounting school."

"Is there anything you've noticed?" asked Cosette. "Any trends that stand out?"

"Well..." Adelaide chewed her lip for a moment. "Mostly the numbers. Since I studied accounting, I tend to notice the numbers. The queen's trading away a lot of Empyrean grain for lithium ore. I remember that number was a big one."

Rebecca turned to Cosette. "Lithium for batteries?" she asked.

"

Peut-être,

" said Cosette. "Perhaps."

"Our contact in energy research?" responded Rebecca, her gaze focused solely on Cosette.

Cosette nodded. Behind Adelaide, Beatrice pulled her legs up under herself and rolled to the side. Getting her feet under her again, Beatrice stood up and walked to the countertop that served as her kitchenette.

"Lithium batteries?" mused Adelaide. "Who's in energy research, anyway? Anyone I know?"

"It's best you don't know," said Rebecca. "Safer for everyone to remain anonymous. Please forget I mentioned anything. It was careless of me."

"Um, okay." said Adelaide.

"What else can you tell us about your job on Elysium?"

"Well," said Adelaide. "I won't be typing up any more reports. I can tell you that. I got a promotion. You know, after that weird-ass interview. I'll be working directly for the queen as far as I know. Hopefully less typing and more accounting, since that's what I went to school for."

As Rebecca turned her eyes to Cosette, Beatrice returned from the kitchenette with a plate and Adelaide moved her eyes to the carrot sticks stacked on top of it.

"I can tell you this though," said Adelaide, reaching toward the plate. "It's probably going to be pervy. From what I can tell, the queen has a thing for the office pool girls. She likes them young and scantily clad. And, if my interview is any indication, she prefers us in compromising positions. I'll probably be recording ledgers in my underwear."

"Friend Adelaide," said Cosette. "If you think this will be too much for you to--"

"You all treat me like a little kid sometimes. I can do this." Adelaide picked up a carrot stick from the plate Beatrice offered and waved it as she spoke. "La Résistance," said Adelaide, "I'm in. All the way. Just tell me what you need me to do."

She chomped down on the end of the carrot.

* * *

On board Elysium, the next day

As soon as Adelaide put her foot down on the last step to Elysium's deck, the supervisor hustled over to take her by the elbow.

"This isn't a follow-up interview, is it?" cracked Adelaide, "Because I don't know if my nipples can take any more--"

"This way," said the supervisor, pulling Adelaide aside. She stepped smartly to a descending stairwell with Adelaide in tow.

"Well, at least there are windows," said Adelaide as they walked down. "The regular office is so dreary in comparison. I think it's the natural light here by the gondola that makes--"

"Your running commentary is not required," replied the supervisor.

Adelaide opened her mouth briefly, then closed it again without uttering a word.

"Wait here," said the supervisor, and then disappeared back up the stairway.

Adelaide stood in front of a closed door. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other and then back. Finally, shrugging her shoulders, she mumbled, "Wait for what?"

No sooner had the words left Adelaide's mouth than the door was opened by a young woman. She was a few centimeters shorter than Adelaide and wearing significantly less in the way of clothing. In fact, her outfit seemed to consist only of a pair of satin panties in bright white, and a cream colored sketchpad she held clutched to her bare chest.

"Well, don't just stand there," said the woman. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" asked Adelaide.

"You'll see," said the young woman, retreating back through the doorway. Turning her head for a quick glance, she continued, "Nice suit, by the way."

"Um..." replied Adelaide, as she followed along.

"Doubt you'll be keeping it on for long, but you never know."

"Keeping...?" Adelaide stopped short when she and the young woman came into the next room to stand in front of a woman dressed in jodhpurs, a tailored jacket over a form-fitting white blouse, and an amused smile on her lips. Adelaide's gaze never made it past the woman's shiny, knee-high leather boots.

"Your majesty," said Adelaide, dipping her head.

"This is the one, Claire?" said the queen to the young woman clutching the sketchpad. "The accountant?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Claire, while the queen paced out a tight circle around Adelaide.

"Friend Adelaide," said the queen, reaching out to grasp the lapel of Adelaide's suit coat between her thumb and fingers.

"Your majesty?"

"You know who I am, then?"

"Yes, ma'am. You're the... the..."

"Come on, you can do it."

"You're the queen."

"Yes," said the queen, running her hand down the length of Adelaide's jacket until she reached waist level. "I'm the queen. And you're overdressed."

Adelaide shivered but said nothing.

The queen did little to hide her smirk as she reached inside the gap just under where Adelaide's suit coat was buttoned. "Help me with this."

Adelaide let her gaze float upward for a moment. "Ma'am?"

"The button."

Adelaide lowered her eyes again and stood frozen.

"Oh for friend's sake, girl. Unbutton your jacket."

"My, um..."

"Rather dim, this one," muttered the queen, as she shifted her gaze to Claire, who had moved to a writing desk where she picked up a short piece of charcoal pencil.

"It's alright, dear Adelaide," said the queen, dropping Adelaide's suit coat from her grasp. "Take your time. Let it all sink in."

Without raising her gaze, Adelaide watched the queen making her way toward the center of the room, her boots clacking on the deck, until she stopped beside an ornate chaise.

"Stay there," said the queen.

"Ma'am?"

"Don't move, Adelaide. Stand still. I want Claire to record this moment. Your first day working for me. Hopefully not your last as well, but that remains to be seen."

Adelaide furrowed her brow for a moment and finally looked up. She briefly took in the queen, where she now lay lounging, one boot on the chaise and the other resting on the floor. Adelaide quickly moved her gaze to Claire who was perched on the corner of the writing desk, with pencil in hand and her sketchpad now held at arms length.

Claire's breasts were on full display as she studied her sketch, and Adelaide blushed slightly as she let her eyes linger on Claire's nipples, standing proud and crinkled.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" said the queen.

"Uh..." was all Adelaide could manage.

"I like to surround myself with beautiful things," said the queen. "This chaise, for example. Louis the Sixteenth. From Versailles. A rare find from what I'm told."

Adelaide shivered slightly.

"Can you imagine it, friend?" mused the queen. "A man as the head of a nation? A man with wealth? A man existing in our world?" The queen snickered. "I'm rather glad I missed out on those days, aren't you? But the furniture is not at fault in all that. So I keep it."

Adelaide let her gaze wander to Claire, who was moving her charcoal pencil over her sketchpad in tiny, rapid strokes near the center.

"Not much for words?" said the queen.

Adelaide said nothing.

Claire continued sketching.

"The desk where Claire has decided to rest her lovely bottom was made in Copenhagen. Family heirloom," said the queen. "Nowhere near as old as the chaise. It was my mother's. Not really my style, but I'm beginning to appreciate it."

Adelaide glanced at the writing desk where Claire was still perched with her satin panties gracing one corner of the polished wood top. Adelaide dropped her gaze to Claire's bare toes.

"The rug is from Isfahan, of course," mused the queen. "Is there any other place one would find such a treasure?"

"Very ornate," continued the queen, while Adelaide stood with the corner of her lip stuck between her teeth.

After a few minutes, Adelaide looked up from Claire's feet to the sketchpad that was cradled in her arm. Claire offered a tight smile and a slight chuckle that made her breasts jiggle as Adelaide looked on.

"I suppose one could draw parallels between the simplicity of the desk and the ornateness of the rug that I've chosen to decorate with, and the pretty young things I've invited to occupy this space today.

"I'm speaking of you and Claire, of course. Claire, with her lovely curves. Full hips and voluptuous breasts offset by that slim waist of hers. Very ornate, wouldn't you say?

"And then there's you, Friend Adelaide. Much like the design of this desk of my mother's. Clean lines, nothing ostentatious. Simple, but no less beautiful."

Adelaide moved her eyes once again to Claire's sketchpad as the queen related this. Her gaze remained unfocused, but unmoving.

"But alas, dear Adelaide," the queen slid her leg that was laid across the chaise until her boot heel clacked on the deck below. "You're still covered up."

Adelaide moved her gaze back to the queen's boots as the queen scooted to the edge of the chaise and stood up.

"I'd very much like to see you shrugging off that jacket, friend."

The queen's boots clacked on the deck as she made her way to where Adelaide stood and took up position behind her.

"Won't you give us another peek?"

With the queen closing the distance to mere millimeters, Adelaide swallowed hard.

"Honestly, girl," said the queen. "Do you have any idea what you look like right now?"

Adelaide said nothing.

"A frightened kitten," said the queen. "That's what you look like." And then turning to Claire, the queen said, "Are you fully capturing the distress in Friend Adelaide's face in your sketch?"