Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy

have rough loveless sex with him. I want to do things I'll he ashamed of in the morning. I want to do everything I'm not supposed to do, everything I was never allowed to. I want to he . . . like Jes and Lewis and never give a damn.
    Oh God, I want to feel alive, before it's too late.
    An unexpected knock at her office door made her jump in her chair, interrupting her train of thought.
    She flushed guiltily, swiveled her chair around and regarded the closed door suspiciously. She wasn't expecting any visitors, and her staff knew better than to bother her when she said she had some thinking to do. She glanced back over her shoulder at the monitor screen that covered the corridor outside.
    Standing patiently outside her door was the honorable Member for Virimonde; Michel du Bois. Anne raised an eyebrow. It had been a long time since du Bois had wanted anything from her, mainly because he knew he wouldn't get it. The best memories Anne had of Virimonde were of leaving it. Provincial bloody dump. They'd never appreciated her either. But in the end she shrugged and called for her visitor to enter. It was someone to talk to; and she was curious.
    Michel du Bois entered with his usual practiced dignity, dressed in his very best for the upcoming day's Session. He bowed low to Anne, before pulling up a chair and sitting down opposite her without asking permission first. He smiled at Anne. She didn't smile back. He'd only take it as a sign of weakness.
    Whatever it was he wanted, it had to be something he couldn't get anywhere else. Du Bois arranged his formal robes fussily, and met Anne's gaze with something very like sincerity.
    "Virimonde has chosen a new Paragon," he said bluntly. "A highly proficient young man with excellent prospects, called Stuart Lennox. Comes from a good family, has a fine record as one of Virimonde's peacekeepers, and not a trace of scandal anywhere about him. A bit glum and humorless perhaps, and he'll need some coaching before we can turn him loose in front of the media, but he's solid, dependable, and a canny fighter. Just what we need to represent our homeworld before the Empire. He'll arrive here for his investiture somewhen next week, just in time for the Royal Wedding."
    "Why are you telling me?" said Anne. "I don't work with Paragons."
    "Virimonde is your homeworld," said du Bois, just a little sternly. "I thought you'd be interested.
    Particularly since of late you've become somewhat . . . distanced from the previous Paragon."
    "Ah," said Anne, nodding wisely. "So that's it. It always comes down to Lewis in the end, blast his soul.
    What have you heard, du Bois? What do you think you know? And what makes you think I might give a damn what you might or might not know?"
    Du Bois spread his arms wide in an expansive gesture, and tried to look innocent. He wasn't especially successful. He was a politician, after all. "It's clear to everyone, inside and outside the House, that you and the Deathstalker are no longer as close as you once were. And since the King has also been taking some pains to publicly distance himself from his Champion of late, it doesn't take a genius to work out that something significant must have happened. Lewis ... has made many mistakes of judgement since becoming Champion. Separating himself from his friends, and those who would be his friends. Disgracing himself, through his actions during the Neuman riot. Most importantly, failing to be the Champion everyone wanted . . . The Deathstalker is no longer a credit to our homeworld."
    "Is that why you cut off his stipend?" said Anne.
    "He was no longer entitled to those monies. The allowance will go to Stuart Lennox, who will no doubt be much more . . . appreciative. Don't mistake me, Anne. It pains me to see the Deathstalker brought so low, it really does, but he brought it upon himself by his own actions."
    "I'm busy," said Anne, coldly. "What do you want from me, du Bois?
    "It occurred to me that you, as one of the Deathstalker's oldest and closest friends, might be able to shed some light on why dear Lewis has been acting so out of character just lately."
    "He's just going through a bad time," Anne said evenly. "We all do."
    "But if you knew something . . . private, something personal . . ."
    "I'd have more sense than to discuss it with you. Stay away from Lewis, du Bois. That's my advice to you. Stick to pulling your new Paragon's strings. You try and push Lewis around, even in his present state, and he'll eat you