The Gamer Chapter 1393 – Tea Party 2 – Before the Tea (Patreon)

John and Hailey walked up to the large cube of a Roman-inspired building. The Ambrosia was one of the most expensive establishments in the Hudson Barrier, containing everything from a spa to a minigolf club at a level of posh sophistication. John had previously visited it with Maximillian and Magnus, during one of their nights out. That had been shortly before Lee had joined his harem. Time sure flew.

Today, neither of the two men would be present. Maximillian was an ocean away, and although Magnus probably could have made the time, having one of his friends there would have interfered with Nightingale’s intention for the evening. Besides, they were in the restaurant today, not the whiskey bar.

They passed through the marble white pillars. Two animated statues reached for the brass handles of the door and elegantly pulled the two halves open, for him and Hailey to pass through. The red carpet reduced their synchronized steps to little ‘thud’ sounds, as they advanced into the charmingly antique-inspired inside of the establishment. A statue of the goddess Aphrodite stood atop a fountain, pouring water from her vase - endlessly.

Behind a counter that was deliberately crafted in a rough fashion, truly resembling the style of ancient stonecutting, waited a receptionist. Upon spotting John, the woman in her toga simply gestured to the right, where an open pathway led into a large room. “Welcome to the Ambrosia, Mister President,” she greeted him, as they passed.

“Ain’t this place all kinds of fancy?” Hailey drawled, speaking at a regular volume that compromised the gentle atmosphere.

John didn’t mind. He had a great amount of respect for aesthetics; he also had a contrarian side to him. Still, he felt the need to warn her. “If you don’t lower your voice, people will look at you funny,” he whispered to her.

“Will that reflect badly on you?”

“Everything you do will reflect on me. Whether it’s bad that one of my girls doesn’t behave according to the standards of the elite is good or bad depending on who you ask. It’s going to endear me with those that themselves find the posh atmosphere too much and lower my standing with those that live in the soft-spoken world.” The corridor they followed soon opened up into a large, rectangular hall. “Although I am quite covered when it comes to high society.”

At the centre of the dinner hall, on an elevated platform of beige stone, stood Undine and Siena. The slime was in her human form, preferring to display that exterior whenever she put on a dress. Siena remained in her usual form. They wore identical dresses of wine red. Long, elegant ones, of silk make, whose skirts hid most of their legs. The sole point of difference between the two was the cut that had been made at the back of Siena’s to let her tail move freely.

Together, they made music. Voice and violin intertwined into a melody that meandered through the room, bounced off roman pillars and cedar wood tables. People filled the room with their soft-spoken conversations. The occasional glass sang in toast.

John crossed eyes with his elementals, and they winked at him in acknowledgement. That was the only compromise to their performance. Even as background music, they had professionalism. Besides, they were not alone on that platform. A drummer provided a gentle beat and a pianist played along where he saw an opening. Both were friends of John’s musically inclined elementals that he, himself, only knew in passing. They had helped Undine during the production of her first record.

Naturally, John’s eyes were drawn to the harpy that approached them. Nightingale had chosen a white dress for tonight, one that vaguely reminded of a white lily in the shape of its skirt and the green undertones to her midsection. The slender woman’s dark wings were gracefully folded. Her talons showed with each stride she took. The petals of the skirt whispered over the gleaming floor.

“Glad you arrived so early,” Nightingale told him, her pleasant voice almost reduced to a whisper. “John, Hailey.”

“Howdy,” the country gal responded, still speaking like she regularly would. Nightingale first raised an eyebrow, then the bow of her wing in front of her lips. Lowering her volume to an actual whisper, Hailey asked, “Do you mind if I just do my thing, or am I gonna jeopardize your intentions with my bein’ ‘ere?”

“I cannot gauge. Let the risk exist. You’re a sister, they’re allies,” Nightingale waved off.

“Sister, ey?” Hailey grinned broadly. “Didn’t think I’d get siblin’s this late’n live.”

“We have a bond closer than siblings,” Nightingale assured.

“Wouldn’t know it,” Hailey responded and executed an odd gesture in front of her forehead. Swiftly, John realized she was trying to adjust her absent hat. “Not gonna lie, it’s strange to think of women I share a man with as closer than siblings.”

“A perspective I cannot share,” Nightingale confessed with a shake of a head. “A difference in our nature. Although the gulf may not be that vast.” The harpy took a couple of steps and nuzzled against John’s left side, like a bird settling in on its nest. “We are both here, after all.”

“Hmm, gimme time and I’ll pro’lly see it your way,” Hailey agreed and put a kiss first on John’s neck, then Nightingale’s lips. “Still rearrangin’ my whole view on stuff, been not two months, ya know? Not sure if I’m supposed to say Lord or Lady these days.”

“Is that important?” John wondered.

“It kinda is,” Hailey responded. After a delay, she added, “To me.”

“You are capable. You will find answers,” Nightingale declared and spread a wing behind the two of them. As three, they moved towards the table closest to where the band was playing. John spotted the chair with his name card quickly. There were two seats next to his that were unmarked, reserved for haremettes that may or may not have attended spontaneously. “I’ll find someone to fill the empty seat,” the goddess of the night whispered.

“What can I expect for company?” John asked, before she left.

“I have seated you with the least influential members of the opposition for our stay at the restaurant,” she informed him. “It is important to understand the roots when studying a plant.”

“Right, this will signal that I’m aware that I can weaken their position by coaxing away their backers.”

Nightingale was displeased with what he said, pulling her eyebrows together into a chiding look. “Leave your political realism at the door. Tonight is for genuine conversations between parties, not for manoeuvring.”

“I tried to make a joke.” Nightingale did not seem happy with that explanation. “I promise I won’t soil the intentions you have for tonight by considering how it gets me ahead.”

To that, she nodded, “A nation is strong when it remains flexible and just.” She afforded him a lady’s smile. “Do continue to live up to my expectations, my patriarch.”

“See ya in a bit, sis’,” Hailey said to the harpy and sat down, bag over the backrest. John took the chair next to her and was swiftly used as a footstool by the country gal. Arm slung over the backrest of her expensive chair, the sexily dressed blonde smirked at him daringly. “Ya told me to behave like I want.”

“I wasn’t complaining.” John tugged at her laces and took her shoes off. He had to amend a previous observation. Hailey did have some more tan lines. The thin strips of the flip-flops she commonly wore had left their mark on her feet. John put her socks and shoes away and started to massage her soles.

“Ya sure ya should be doing that before eatin’?” Hailey drawled.

The pleased hum that followed those words was every motivation John would have ever needed. “You stayed in that bathtub for thirty minutes, I’m sure you’re clean,” he told her. “I would kiss these feet.”

“Would you?” Hailey raised up one of her feet to his lips and gave him a challenging stare. One that he met without wavering. His hand glided over her silky smooth leg until he arrived at her firm ankles. He held her foot up and pressed his lips just above the root of her big toe. All he smelled was the particularly sweet peppermint shampoo that Hailey shared with Rave. “Such a good man,” she cooed appreciatively.

“I have learned to live up to many expectations,” he said and put her foot back in his lap. “You all do bring out the best in me.”

They chatted about this and that until John felt the need to talk with the other attendants of the dinner. He left Hailey at the table on her own. Rather than tag along, the engineer decided to pull an e-reader out of her bag and continue her self-teaching on the laws of mana flow. She did not attract any attention.

Eventually, John returned to his seat with Nightingale. The dinner officially began at that point. Besides him and his haremettes, 23 people were present, distributed over four tables. They filled up about half of the room, giving it all a comfortable atmosphere. A servant per table was in motion, taking orders.

While that was going on, John caught the gaze of Emrik. The Speaker of Commons was present. His vote against joining the Divided Gates had been of interest to John. Neither surprising nor expected, just interesting. They did not have the opportunity yet to talk about it and wouldn’t until after they left the restaurant.

“Gimme the porkchop with the mashed potatoes… extra gravy, please,” Hailey gave her order last, pulling John’s attention back to this table. The tone of the country gal caused some raised eyebrows and chuckles, rarely both from the same person.

For the moment, that was the entire attention given to her. Instead, the six unknown people that John shared a table with were taken in by the Gamer when he smiled graciously at all of them. “It’s a pleasure to share an evening with you. I hope I’m not inconveniencing you by having a meeting three days before your daughter’s wedding, Roland?”

The thusly addressed man did not even shift uncomfortably at the personal question. John had played the all-knowing card so often at this point that those in the political realm simply expected it. A fact that was advantageous in its own way. It transformed such questions from an intimidation tactic into a simple continuation of his prestige. It also sometimes led people to confess things he had no idea about, purely because they anticipated he had heard about it already.

“Three days are plenty of time to sleep off a fancy dinner, John,” Roland responded with a smile. The two politicians gazed at each other for a few seconds. The president’s smile did not waver. “John is okay, I hope?” Roland finally folded.

“Absolutely.” John made a gracious gesture. “As one of my better parts told me…” he brushed through Nightingale’s hair, “…this is not a night for political grandstanding. I wish to stay in contact with those that have differing viewpoints. Who knows, you may convince me to change my stance in a few ways – maybe even entirely? I’m open to new knowledge.”

“If I may, then,” a woman on the table spoke up. “This meeting should have been held before you had the vote. All we can do now is lament a happenstance that has already passed.”

“That is not entirely true, although I understand the sentiment,” John said. “Parliament legitimized my wish to join the Divided Gates, but we have not yet become part of that loose pact. Even once we are, it will be my stance on it that defines our interactions.”

“Our colleagues were the ones that ultimately voted yes on the motion,” someone else on the table spoke up, while the plates of food were driven up to the table on handcarts. One after another, the people were presented with their meals. “We lost the vote not against the president but against the other interests in parliament. Even if he had the meeting with us beforehand, that wouldn’t have mattered. He doesn’t have a vote in parliament.”

“On the contrary, he has 24 votes,” the woman disagreed.

“I do not have any control over the Crowning Party,” John was swift to remind.

“Neither do you outlaw them,” the woman pointed out. “Are they not sufficiently against your republican ideals, publicly interested in making you king?”

“I cannot forbid parties because they are interested in fundamentally altering the system. What if, fifty years from now, the gradual changes of time make a sweeping reform necessary?” He raised a hand in a halting gesture to prevent any interruption. “I’m not saying I want the monarchist reforms or that monarchism will be the answer at that time. To forbid one ideology outright is to put a chilling effect on the ideas of all of them that deviate what we currently have. I can only dissolve parties if they have been proven to be tangled up in criminal acts.”

“Should you not do it out of principle, to respect the border between executive and legislative that you yourself erected?”

“Where does that end?” John asked. “Do I ban every party that happens to align with me? I’ll remind you that the Crowning Party has voted against my wishes before; particularly on matters of military and federal measures, they’re typically more extreme than me.”

Nightingale cleared her throat and attention quickly switched to her. “I remind of two facts. Tonight, is not on the matter of the Crowning Party and a member of that party is sitting on the table to your right.”

“I did want to remind you of that too,” the man that had originally defended John stated. “He has voted with us against the motion.”

“Which, if I may bring this back to the original topic, I’m interested in hearing why you did it.” John was cutting his steak as he said that. “You like your food?” he asked Hailey quietly.

Mouth full, the country gal just hummed affirmingly, before downing 50 Tokens worth of wine in one gulp. Gravy and red wine stained her lips for a second, then she wiped it away with a provided handkerchief. She wasn’t a slob; she just ate way faster than everyone else around.

“Personally, don’t believe it to be in Fusion’s interest to be involved with the rest of the world,” the supportive man was the first to explain his viewpoint. “Through your Guild Hall, Mister President, we have all the resources we’ll need to assure the basis of our economy. The rest can be acquired as we make use of the massive amount of land we have available. Frankly, I think the only parts beyond our borders that are worth our interest are those that we wish to add to our territory.”

“So, you wish for an isolationist stance?” John summarized.

“Indeed. We have no need to rely on the rest of the world, so we shouldn’t send signals that we’re interested in playing ball with other powers.”

“The Mandate of Heaven has been largely isolationist for hundreds of years,” John reminded. “And they’re the second strongest member in the Divided Gates, at least as far as common opinion is concerned. We’re even further geologically isolated than them.” He took a bite of his steak. “I don’t think we’ll be pulled into anything we don’t want to partake in.”

“I’d prefer if we didn’t even appear as if we were a party to be approached. The city on the hill approach, if you would.”

“Hey!” Hailey interrupted the conversation by loudly shouting into the soft talk of the restaurant. She snapped her fingers a couple of times, until the servant had made it to her chair. “Gimme another serving of that – extra, extra gravy.” She quickly licked the knife clean, before handing it and the plate off.

“Who – are – you?” the aggressive woman asked, offended by the display and the tone.

“Hailey Brooklyn Brooks,” the country gal responded in a half sung drawl and moved her chair a little closer to John. “I’m the new gal of this purrdy man right ‘ere.”

“Any reason you decided to show off your new… woman…” A less flattering word was clearly bit back. A layer of the background music faded away. “…tonight, Mister President?”

“She wanted to tag along,” John responded simply.

“And that’s enough?”

“Yes,” John answered dismissively. ‘Siena, don’t.’ The claw, invisible to almost everyone else, stopped inches away from the woman’s face. The midnight elemental clicked her tongue and was back on the platform before anyone could ask any questions, back to fiddling along to Undine’s song.

“Been a mundane until recently,” Hailey explained herself. She leaned onto John, elbow on his shoulder. It felt less like he was getting used for support and more to show off that she was untouchable. “My man tells me I’m what y’all call a Latebloomer?”

Everything besides Undine and Siena’s song went silent. Everyone could hear the drummer drop one of her sticks. In the half-silence, the country gal turned to the harpy.

“Sorry, I think I may have derailed the topic of the evenin’.”