Editing KSGU:Volume 5 Chapter 2 (section)

===Part 7===

“…You’re right. I heard that every elected Prime Minister had taken up the post of the Migration Issues Committee Leader before. Doesn’t that you…you know?”

Mrs Barrows raised the duck confit on the fork as she gave a pondering look while looking over at everyone’s faces that were seated on the table. She was showing off such indecent table etiquette as if she was at a restaurant in town, but the other ladies did not frown so easily. Their faces that were full of make-up showed appropriate cordial smiles as they looked around on the long table, giving either envious or evaluating looks at the couple that organized this party.

“Not all the Prime Ministers were like that.”

Cynthia Marcenas was probably used to such stares as she showed neither an inviting smile nor an annoyed smile, calmly dodging this topic at hand with some words she thought about on the fly. The daughter of the Marcenas family showed a graceful and fearless princess appearance as she kept an observing look, noting where she was in. She, who was almost 30, had the flair of a female host who had experienced all sorts of turbulent moments. “My my, you’re so modest about it.” Cynthia gave a smile that had some invisible hesitance towards this flattery as she quickly glanced through the table, not forgetting to check if everyone’s wine glasses were filled.

“No no no, please just leave it at that! If not, I’ll probably be so pressurized as a son-in-law that I won’t have room to breathe!”

Patrick, who was sitting beside Cynthia, spoke with a voice that boomed throughout the room, putting a stop to this delicate topic. Patrick had a sportsman-like tall and muscular physique, an earnest smile, and had sincere gestures that were welcomed by the old people. These were unique inherent qualities that made him attractive, but the impression had on him was that he studied well. Before he married in, Patrick was working as an underling of Ronan, and until this point, where he was running for a local election, he took the important role of first secretary, and he was trained this way for the future. But on closer inspection, there would be signs of aspects he was not natural in, so it would depend on his qualifications if he could stand out here and make his way to the Dakar Committee proudly. At this point, his first duty would be to act as a cheery host for this party and wrangle for local support. However, he probably did not expect the atmosphere brewed by the powerful local ladies to be so hard to deal with.

After the war, B&D Inc. managed to revive itself, and Mrs Barrows was the wife of the chairman of that enterprise. She was also the president of the women’s support group, and because of her lead, one could see people like the wife of the chairman of the sunbelt area revival association, the wife of a protestant pastor from South America that still had many believers in the South, and the wife of a leading Farmers’ association president. There were less than 10 middle-aged women seated around the long table in the dining room, and they pretended to look courteous and fearful that they were invited to the mansion of a powerful Senator, but there was no doubt that these people thought that they should be invited here. These people approached the high-ranking senator who would most likely be the next Prime Minister, and eyed for a chance to offer their graces while showing their powerful backings without leaving anything behind. They would always show that they could determine the fate of a political whenever they had the time. Their husbands had such shameless thoughts, thinking that they should leave everything in society to the politicians, and if there were a need, they should create politicians with their own hands, and in front of Mineva’s eyes, the ladies were a splitting reflection of their arrogance.

Mineva’s stomach felt heavy as she swallowed her sigh, and it was a difficult thing for her to put the duck into the mouth. ''So is this the truth behind politics of absolute democracy? That how power with the people is determined by buying and selling of votes?'' She memorized everything about ruling, but this was too intense for her body that never had the chance to interact with the real society. She cautiously read the atmosphere as she again realized that she was in a delicate situation.

As Riddhe had been talking to Ronan all this while, Mineva did not have the chance to plan any lines, and she was overwhelmed by Cynthia’s bulldozer-like hospitality, so she could only attend this party as Audrey Burne. It was the complete opposite of what Cynthia said about a relaxed family party as the food that was served was a French full course, the red wine were top-class Eighties bottles that were opened, and there were 6 servants on standby around the dining table. It was obvious to see that as the host, they were planning to use their wealth show their true prosperity to the ladies of the rich and powerful, and it was obvious to see that. Even the gown Mineva was wearing was a customized branded product Cynthia ordered during her life as a student. Cynthia herself said ''“It’s already outdated, but it’s fine if the person wearing it is good looking”'', but Mineva could only think about standard dress uniform when it came to formal dress attire, so she could not tell the differences in that. She found it difficult to adapt to the bare shoulders and arms design, and in the end, she did not know how to adapt as she could only spend time listening to the empty conversations.

“As for the young lord, he’s an elite who graduated from the officer cadet academy. I’m really envious of it.”

Mrs Barrows did not thank the servant who poured red wine for her as she increased her volume, seemingly drank. She, whose fat arms would shudder whenever she raised the knife, seemed more concerned about the private life of a Senate Council member than the future of a local election candidate’s future in front of her. When Ronan popped by to greet them before retreating, she was the one who wanted him to stay, “Another one of my relatives was an officer.” Another lady continued.

“But he’s retired, and he’s now a consultant at Anaheim Group.”

“Oh my. So that means he’s an elite  as well?”

“Will you enter politics in the future and help in your father’s work?”

The Cynthia couple’s expression froze, and Dwiyon, who was on standby behind, showed a tense expression on his face as well. As the ladies focused at one point, Mineva could only force herself to look over at the seat beside her, at the face of the person in question.

Ever since the self-introduction from before, Riddhe did not say anything, and even at this point, he looked like he did not care about his surroundings. He looked very distracted as he moved his knife and fork, stuffing the unsliced duck into his mouth. He had been looking like this ever since he talked to Ronan. ''Did they break off on rather bad terms?'' As Mineva wondered, Cynthia spoke up, “My little brother here is bad at it.” and Mineva turned to look at her.

“His mind isn’t sharp except when it comes to piloting mobile suits, right, Miss Audrey?”

''Help me carry on, please?'' Her eyes were telling Mineva this. Mineva could not say anything immediately as she merely gave an awkward smile. “Speaking of which, how you heard of it? There was a terrorist attack again!” Another person’s voice caused her heart to jump.

“Yeah yeah yeah. It happened on Anaheim’s industrial colony, right? It’s said that the Neo Zeon remnants did it.”

“Space really is scary. Will all the people die once there’s a hole pierced through the colony? They’re like fish in a tank. I’m trembling whenever I think about it.”

“And those Zeon mobile suits, are they called “Zakus”? They did come here during the war. Those mobile suits have only one eye, their shoulders have some spike like thing. They really don’t look like things humans will create.”

“They’re people who threw people colonies and meteors onto Earth. They’re different in both common sense and thoughts from us after all.”

“Most of them are people whose parents and brothers were born in space, and they never came down to Earth, I suppose? It’s a little too direct to say that, but they’re still aliens after all. To the Spacenoids, Earth is basically a resource colony. If we granted their self-governance, who knows what will happen? That’s why we have to manage it well.”

Lines after lines continued to jab at Mineva’s bare shoulders like sharp needles, seemingly trying to pierce. Ding, “Excuse me, madams.” Cynthia tapped the glass as her words attracted everyone’s attention.

“Please avoid discriminatory remarks. My husband will be worried if this would be a trap set up by the media.”

Patrick followed up on this joke with some grumbling. ''Well, hohoho'', the ladies let out laughter. Mineva exhaled slightly, and was about to gulp down the glass full of water, but another voice, “Miss Audrey, may I know where you’re from?” causing her to choke on it.

“If you’re related to the Anaheim Group, I suppose you’re from the Moon?”

“The Moon is a nice place. Unlike Spacenoids, moon residents are full of common sense. They have low gravity, and it’s nice for beauty. I’m thinking of going there myself once, but I really can’t decide after hearing that it’ll take more than 3 days to get there on a spaceship…”

Mineva could not and had no reason to go along with what they said as she looked away from the women of Earth lined up in front of her. ''Just smile and act along and everything will be fine—'' she understood, but she could not give this kind of smile to them. This would be belittling her parents, and it would be blasphemy to the soldiers who died. All sorts of words raged in her mind, and as she clenched the fists on her knees, the sound of a chair being moved back rang.

Riddhe stood up as he did not look at anyone, but straight forward as he left the scene wordlessly. The footsteps of the boots were filled with anger, shocking the cold atmosphere. The grey officer uniform disappeared behind the door, and the ones left in the dining room were the stunned stupefied looks of the women.

“Did we say something to dampen his mood?” 

Mrs Barrows asked, and in response to her puzzled and curious face, Cynthia immediately rounded off, “Sorry.”

“It seemed that he saw something devastating during the terrorist attack from before. He’s been like this ever since he got home. Please don’t mind.”

Cynthia said as she gave a quiet look to Mineva, asking her what was going on. Patrick too inadvertently met Mineva in the eyes, and Mineva scanned the expressions all the ladies gave. She lost the chance to chase Riddhe and could only move the fork to stuff the duck into her mouth that had already lost appetite. As she wanted to stuff it in, “Speaking of which, isn’t the son of Mr. Barrows…” Cynthia’s voice filled up this emptiness.