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She lost two regicide games in a row, quickly. She was not the most advanced opponent he'd ever had, but she could at least make him work for his victories just a little. Her moves now confused and irritated him in their thoughtlessness and it wasn't until he looked up and studied her expression that he realized she was hardly looking at the board. Her eyes were set on it, hand hovering appropriately over the pieces as if in consideration, but her gaze was vacant and her selection servitorial in its automation.
"Rogue Trader?" The address emerged a touch more aggressively than he meant it to. More softly, he added, "You seem distracted."
She looked up. The skull-embroidered eye patch she wore in leisure was distracting; he was used to the ocular augment boring into him just as Theodora's did in the enormous painting behind her. Lady Lavinia's one green eye blinked.
"I apologize for my distraction," she said quietly. "I had thought a game and pleasant company might distract me."
"From?"
"I've been writing my own personal recollections of Kiava Gamma, aside from the formal reports. Revisiting it has been grim." She paused, gaze skirting from him to the windows beyond the desk. Heinrix tensed. The memory was no more pleasant for him, either. "I'm from a forge world, you know. Laterna."
"I am aware," he said.
It had come up in their restrained, polite conversation between games; it was safe to admit he knew some of her background, though he had learned it long before he came aboard. The exact nuances of an archdeacon on a world dominated by the Adeptus Mechanicus eluded him still, but she seemed to hold no resentment towards the tech-priests. If anything, she seemed fond. It was her Ministorum brethren she held under higher scrutiny.
She shook her head, the golden beads of her thin braids clacking in the quiet of the study, so well insulated from the groans of the ship. "Seeing it that way... The bodies, the Chaos..."
She stood abruptly. He stood with her, alarmed by her alarm. After some hesitation, as if not sure where she intended to go, she strode over to the desk and picked up a data slate, tabbing through its information quickly.
"These are my worlds," she said hoarsely. "They are mine to take care of. It could be Laterna next if I'm not careful and focused."
He gawked at her, bewildered. "Do not tell me this is only just occurring to you now?" he demanded.
"Yes," she blurted out. She turned to give him a horrified stare; one did not admit to neglect, even the unintended kind, to a member of the Inquisition. "I mean -- no."
He waited in silence for her explanation. Silence weighed heavier than threats for people like her, who already monitored themselves quite closely for transgressions, for silence carried implications limited only by one's imagination. She pushed a button on the data slate again. A curve entered her back.
Framed by the darkness of space in the windows, she was small.
The study was enormous. Even the desk beside her was made for someone tall and commanding as Theodora had been. Lavinia's small stature meant it took more effort for her to take control of a space with her presence, yet he had never seen her slack. She was precise, crisp, and even in her irrational leniency, her approach was not exactly tender. She would look him in the eye and argue with every bit of rhetoric she had. Argue! With an Interrogator!
Here, now, she was... weak.
He tried to summon contempt for her and found he was just as weak. Something had shifted on Kiava Gamma. He dared not inspect what it was lest he cultivate it further.
"It was always clear to me that even in my pursuit of spiritual endeavors, the von Valancius name carried great weight and my actions reflected on its reputation. And I must have served responsibly and well for Theodora to have summoned me when she did." A hard metal edge re-entered her voice, forcing him to suppress the shudder in his spine. "Laterna was a small world but I am no stranger to what it means to toil, as the Emperor demands, and to lead an entire planet's faithful. I have been blessed with good work ethic even when--" She stopped short, more cautious now. "Even when the Expanse is bereft of appropriate oversight. I know and understand the Throne sees all. Not all of the Ecclesiarchy can say that."
He had drawn closer though he had not felt himself move. Over her shoulder, he could see the data slate listing the myriad of worlds in her Protectorate. Not the largest bunch of territory in the Expanse but... larger than one small forge world responsible for little more than nuts and bolts.
"And?" he prompted sharply. "The Emperor has granted you an honor by elevating you to Rogue Trader, however grim the circumstances."
She flinched slightly, too absorbed in her files to realize he had come up behind her. He attributed the lapse in vigilance to the absence of the ocular augment.
"I was never trained for this esteemed office," she said tightly, gripping the data slate so hard it creaked. "I was handed this ship, this immense vessel, and I nearly forgot it is only a symbol of how much more there is in this territory. My territory. I will not forget it again."
A muscle in her neck twitched, leading his gaze down where her dark skin disappeared under the collar of the uniform she had give herself, an elevated and refined version of the officers' regalia, cloth the same red as the habit of an archdeacon with golden buttons and embroidery, and an Aquila pinning the coat closed. The seals she had rescued from her archdeacon's habit adorned the epaulets. She claimed, once, that she had been in priestly vestments most of her life and that it would be absurd to abandon the idea of such a uniform altogether.
He clasped his hands behind his back, squeezing one in the other, clipped nails digging through his gloves so hard he could feel them leave impressions in his skin.
Vulnerability from Rogue Trader von Valancius.
It should have been empowering to have this knowledge of her that, as far as he could tell, no one else had, not even the seneschal. This was Inquisitorial gold, an absurd level of trust that she should never be granting anyone. Instead he felt as if he were being handed something fragile by the Emperor himself and was desperate to preserve it. How? What did it need? Why was something so precarious being permitted? Why was it being handed to him, of all people?
He reached around her and took the data slate from her hands, careful not to make any contact with her person. She followed it, turning as he pulled his arm back to inspect the statistics laid out.
Production was resuming on Kiava Gamma already. Janus' resources now gave von Valancius the strongest command over Foothold, thus enhancing trade and pushing the other Rogue Traders to the boundaries of the region. Various routes had been re-established, smaller worlds reconnected to the fabric of the Protectorate. What she lacked in the grace Lady Orsellio commanded with ease and the fervor Sister Argenta burned with, Lady Lavinia made up for in effective administration, a task many nobles relegated to others and then were surprised when they were betrayed or had their coffers skimmed. Something maybe Lady Theodora herself had been guilty of, if not worse.
Heinrix read some of the numbers out loud to Lavinia.
"And, may I remind you, the thorough ousting of heretics has been noted in my reports. Your command in the position has been adequate," he finished.
She studied his face. He did not ripple under her gaze, instead returning it evenly. A small smile pulled at the corner of her mouth when she was done, breaking her solemn demeanor and lighting some unknown pride in him.
"That almost sounded like a compliment, van Calox."
He set the data slate back down on the desk. "If I did not believe you were capable, I would have arrested you long ago. You've given me plenty of reasons to."
The seriousness returned. "Of course. I am always cognizant of the scrutiny I'm under."
"That is... the harsher interpretation of what I said." Carefully, gently, he straightened the Aquila pin on her chest. "What I meant is that you do not cause me great concern."
"No? That's quite a change in your tune."
She was much too close yet he could not step back. As if by sorcery, he was pinned to the spot. But he could sense nothing to indicate such a thing, and he was beginning to think reports of her lack of charm were greatly exaggerated.
"Just the opposite. I think you provide some... relief to the region."
"So not even a little concern? I thought you were always concerned."
He blinked and realized she was teasing him. If he hadn't been close enough to see the sparkle in her eye, he might not have realized. He wondered how many other jokes had gone unnoticed just because her expression never budged.
"What did cause me concern was your performance these last two games," he said sharply.
And then suddenly she laughed. "Does it make such a great difference given that you always beat me anyway?"
"You know better than most that a sloppy enemy does not make one a good strategist."
"You watch your tone, van Calox. I have never been called sloppy."
His own face cracked, broke, split into a grin that almost hurt for the lack of practice. It was surely crooked and wrong but she kept her focus on him, smile broad. He realized his palms had been sweating in his gloves. That hadn't happened since he finished training.
"If we ever played anything other than regicide, we'd be having an entirely different conversation about whose strategy is better," she huffed, straightening her jacket. "But fine. Let me make you work for it."
He bowed lightly, motioning to the board they had left behind. "After you, my lady."
It might have been the light or the straighter angle of her spine, but as she strode ahead of him, she consumed the space better, not quite so overpowered by Theodora's portrait. He sat across from her, eager to play a real game.