The Last Praetorian Read Online Free

asked, looking up into his eyes with a weak
smile.
    “Really,” Jon confirmed.  “She told me that I would one day
become a famous navy pilot and marry a Princess.”
    “Really?”  Sofia smiled.
    “Really!” Jon insisted.  “Although she was only six at the
time - thought I was a Prince, and told me that I really needed to get a
horse.”
    Sofia giggled and took one of his hands, pulling him back
towards the table and their now discarded meal.  “Tell me more about her –
please?” she asked with warm, understanding eyes.
    “I don’t know,” Jon humoured her.  He liked the feel of her
hand in his and assumed that he would be spared the usual penalty of death;
after all she touched him, not the other way around!  “What’s in it for me?” he
asked curiously.
    Sofia tilted her head to one side and eyed him
thoughtfully.  “I’ll buy you a coffee,” she finally settled on with a grin.
    Jon made a face.  “Garr coffee.  I cannot stand the stuff,
it takes like engine oil!”
    Sofia laughed at his expression.  “That's the synthetic
stuff that you navy types all drink.  I am taking about the real stuff. 
Freshly brewed from real coffee beans Commander…”
    Jon seemed to think it over before nodding.  “Ok, I’ll give
it a try.”
    At the end of the evening, Jon admitted to the Princess that
she was right.  Real coffee was far superior to the stuff that was served in
the ships canteen.  He did not admit to the Princess that her company was far
superior to the coffee…      
    ******
    … Realising that he had been staring a second or two longer
than was proper Jon averted his gaze and politely inquired.  “Princess, is
there some way that I can be of assistance?”  The odd giggle coming from behind
the Princess did not bode well for the response. 
    In an imperious tone the Princess ordered, “A number of my
close friends have never seen a Valerian sword.  Show them,” she insisted.
    “You want me to do what?”  Jon demanded incredulously.  On
second thoughts his original opinion of the Princess was completely accurate –
she was rich, spoiled, conceited and arrogant. 
    However, the Princess simply lifted her chin and repeated.  “Your
sword, some of the girls want to see it.  Draw it and show them.”
    “I am a Praetorian, a Commander in the Imperial Navy, sworn
to give my life to defend you, your father and the Empire.  I am not here to
entertain, or put on a show for your amusement, or your guests.  I would
suggest that you go find some other poor creature to intimidate.”  With that
Jon turned his back on the Princess and her entourage, until he felt a hand
grasp his shoulder… 
    In any normal situation the owner of the hand would have
lost it.  Quickly followed by his life.  However aware of his surroundings
Jon’s gaze instead followed the hand back to its owner - one of the Princess’s
distant young admirers, who obviously felt the urge to intercede.
    With a scowl of indignation the young man announced in a
loud tone, full of righteous anger.  “You will treat the Princess with the
respect that is due to her station, as she is my guest this evening.  I insist
that you treat her with respect and fulfil her request.”  It was probably
unfortunate that very instant that a couple at the next table knocked over a
glass.  As often does in these situations all conversation in the room stopped
and hence the young man’s words rang clearly across the room.  The room became
deathly still and the young man paled slightly when he realised that all eyes
in the room now firmly rested on him.
    Jon internally cursed his bad luck.  What had just been a
testosterone-fuelled moment to impress the Princess had now swollen completely
out of proportion.  No civilian, enlisted person or officer of the fleet would ever dare demonstrate such disrespect to a member of the Praetorian Guard.  Observing
that the young man was one that wore a sword at his side, Jon already