A Walk to Greater Worlds: Aeriel Trilogy #3

Chapter 6

The conference room Ruban found himself in was richly furnished, with an attractive blend of vintage and modern elements. During the day, natural light would stream in from the large picture windows at the back, illuminating the spacious interiors, ivory walls, and polished wooden flooring.

As it was, an ornate chandelier gleamed overhead, its elaborate metal frame adorned with intricate scrollwork and glittering crystal prisms. Gilded sconces on all four walls provided extra lighting.

Panels of burnished wood ran along the bottom half of the wall on three sides of the room. Portraits of the Founding Fathers studded the upper half, interspersed with a few generic landscape paintings.

A large mahogany conference table – surrounded by ten leather-upholstered chairs of matching design – occupied much of the floor space.

This building had once served as the primary residence of the erstwhile Aeriel monarchy, and the room seemed determined to not let you forget it. Ruban wondered what point the Cabinet wanted to prove, choosing this space for the meeting.

Unnati Jha, chief of the Hunter Corps, sat at the end of the table that was farthest from the door.

Official records confirmed her age to be fifty-four; but with her sharp, aquiline nose, jet-black hair, and slender frame, she didn't look a day over forty. Her uniform was immaculate, her posture exuding a relaxed alertness that came only from years of experience and hard training.

As her flinty gaze landed on Ruban, her already-thin lips pressed into a straight line. She was not pleased.

For a moment, Ruban was absurdly glad for the large wooden table that stood between them.

"Ah, Kinoh. Our young flagbearer of truth and justice," the Chief Hunter drawled. Her chilly smile made Ruban's shoulders tense involuntarily. "You absolutely had to tell those reporters outside that we plan to keep the cultists in custody for the duration of the investigation, didn't you? You couldn't possibly have kept your mouth shut. Not when the great Viman Rai himself had descended upon us to goad you into a confrontation with the press."

"Your bluntness will end up causing a riot, one of these days." Lohit Raizada, the director of the IAW, was seated to Unnati's left. He was a thickset, middle-aged man with short grayish hair, a prominent forehead, and a thin moustache that sat uneasily on his bow-shaped upper lip. "You may not be a politician, Ruban, but social media being what it is, you're in the public eye more often than not. You can't afford to forget that, especially when talking to the media."

"Especially now, when the nation is so on edge about these rumors of an alliance with Vaan," said Jheel Sen, the minister of external affairs, sitting to Unnati's right.

She wore a loose gray tunic which somehow looked like a statement piece on her, but would've resembled a shapeless sack had somebody else dared to don it. Her luxuriant brown curls – which showed no signs of thinning with age – were pulled up in a messy ponytail at the back of her head. She'd been an actress before starting a career in politics, and it showed.

Ruban frowned. "It's not about the rumors, or even the alliance. An investigation into this latest lynching is a must for the safety of our people. It's not safe for civilians to be wielding reinforced sifblades. Even Hunters need extensive retraining for optimal control, given how volatile reinforced sif can be. We need to find out how HAVA got its hands on the weapon, as soon as possible. Because if there's a leak in SifCo–"

"It's good to see you feel that way." Dhriti Pathak's saccharine voice drifted to them from across the room. She'd entered through one of the picture windows, and presently came to sit beside Jheel Sen. "Given your history of...uh," her tongue flicked over glossy lips. "Anti-Aeriel zeal, I'd have thought you'd support the cults resisting this alliance with Vaan." Her heavily-lashed eyes darted around the room, perhaps gauging the reactions she'd managed to elicit.