My husband, Tee Morris and I are the authors of the award-winning steampunk adventure series Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences, and our latest project is an anthology of short stories set in the world of spies, steampunk, and saucy women! It will be available in ebook this month, and in print shortly after that. It’s a project a lot of people have invested in, since it was made possible with Kickstarter, and was funded at 152%…so we can hardly wait to get it out.

Ministry Protocol has stories from authors like Leanna Renee Hieber, Karina Cooper, Jared Axelrod, and Tiffany Trent, but today’s excerpt is from Tee’s story a Nocturne for Alexandrina. It details the very beginning of the Ministry which investigates the strange, the unusual and the bizarre…

A young Queen Victoria has disguised herself to find out more about the mysterious man who entered her throne room and declared he would reveal to her and her alone the danger to her Empire.

No one paid her a second glance once she walked into the humble tavern just outside the stones of Avebury Circle. The hearth was modest but managed to give a hint of warmth in this quiet corner of her empire. Just as promised, Doctor Culpepper Source sat in a lovely, high-backed chair, and he stoked coals in the fireplace. Victoria tugged the lapels of her black coat tighter and walked across smooth, worn planks that groaned lightly as she closed on him. She did not concern herself with stealth or with grace. Her attendants were all enjoying a lovely deep sleep thanks to a delightful laudanum concoction that her Mamma used on Victoria when she was younger. She was as he wished her to be””alone, which could have been an invitation for the downfall of the crown. Only two years into her reign as queen and to be kidnapped or worse, assassinated, and the British Empire would be thrown into chaos. And yet, here she was, the Queen of the Empire, in The Red Lion, unattended, meeting what her attendants in court””all save for her Lord Chancellor””believed was a madman.

How thrilling, she thought with a delightful rush.

He placed the poker back into its holder and then sat back into a reclining position. “I would stand upon ceremony,” he spoke over his shoulder softly, “but even with the collected subjects here, few as they are, that is attention neither of us desire, now is it?”

She gave a giggle and took the seat opposite of him. Victoria crossed her legs, taking a moment to enjoy the outrageous outfit she currently wore. The thigh-high boots, even with their dull finish, caught the light of the tiny fire as did the leather trousers she wore. The clothes would have appeared more appropriate for riding, had she decided that black suddenly suited her as a colour. He looked at her and smiled approvingly. No doubt, he found the cleavage she was sporting with her cinched corset and waistcoat most unexpected as well as most appreciated.

“I took you on your word,” Victoria purred, her breath appearing for just a moment before disappearing as wisps of æther, “and dressed appropriately.”

“Indeed. You look hardly ladylike or appropriate.” His eyes sparkled in the firelight. “I approve.”

Victoria gave her lapels another tug and looked around her. “And thank you for advising me on dressing warmly. I had no idea”””

“The chill you are feeling has nothing to do with the weather or even an odd day of the season.” He looked over his shoulder, fixing his eyes on the publican for a moment, and then glanced around at those sitting at tables, many of them enjoying a soup or broth. When Source spoke to her, his voice had dropped to nearly a whisper. “Your Majesty, what I have to show you tonight are those responsible for the anomaly.”

“Those responsible?” Victoria considered that turn of phrase, and then asked, “You’re saying this cold is the work of man, not God?”

Source went to answer but paused as if remembering something important. He pulled out his pocket watch and clicked his tongue lightly. “Actually, Your Majesty, it would be easier if I got on with it and showed you.” He stood, and then slipped a large haversack across his shoulder. He patted it for good measure, and motioned for the door. “Shall we?”

Victoria looked at the door of the Red Lion and felt something in her slowly recoil, much like a cat feeling growing danger and slinking back into a corner. Stepping through that door carried a cost, something akin to that fateful night when she was first addressed as Queen of England. She knew following Professor Culpepper Source would completely change everything.

Source was standing there at the door. He was far from the hearth, but his eyes still twinkled.

Victoria placed her palms gently on her hips, feeling the two concealed Derringers that the Lord Chancellor insisted she have upon her person. Instinct told her she would be using them tonight, but that same instinct told her she would not need them against the professor.

When she reached the door, he handed her a pair of Starlight goggles, leaned in, and stated quite plainly, “Do not leave my side, no matter what this evening offers. I wish to return you to the throne in one piece, and cannot guarantee as much if you gallivant off without me.”

What cheek! Whatever made Source think he could address her in such a fashion?

She would have voiced her outrage, had it not been for the look in his eyes.

Victoria nodded, slipping the goggles around her neck and giving him a reassuring “Very well.”

The affirmation, however, did not sound all too convincing to her.

At first, there seemed to be no need for the Starlight goggles. They kept to the path defined by the outer circle’s larger stones. While still visible under the light of the full moon, the Red Lion was growing farther and farther off. As clouds began to block out the moonlight, however, the quaint pub seemed to wink out of existence.

When her Starlights revealed the thick darkness, it dawned on her that it had been a crystal clear night moments before. A full moon. No sign of any cloud in the sky. Now, they were both plunged into a thick darkness where even the goggles were struggling to grant her vision. She looked up to see a rippled, tumultuous cover suspended above her. Not a single ray from the pale goddess of night pierced the heavy sky now over them.

“Victoria,” came a whisper.

Hearing such presumption ripped her gaze from the obscured heavens back to a pair of Starlights looking at her.

“All will be made clear to you,” he whispered. “Just stay close and not a word until we are well-hidden.”

Well-hidden? Calling the queen of the empire by her Christian name? And a cloud cover that appeared from nowhere?

This intrigue was more and more exciting with each passing moment.

The stone they crouched behind widened at its base, and it was here that Professor Source seemed to be settling in. Taking her gingerly by the wrist, he guided her to a tree growing just at the top of a deep ditch. He checked his watch, and then adjusted the goggles as he studied the clearing before them. He freed from his pocket a small flask and took a quick sip.

“Care for a nip?” he asked Victoria pleasantly.

When in Rome. “C’est bon,” and she took a swig.

Whatever was in the flash tasted of nuts, burned a bit when it hit her throat, and gave her body a delightful warmth a few moments later.

“Direct your eyes to this open field before us,” he whispered, slipping the flask back into his coat pocket. “The party I wish for you to see should be appearing momentarily.”

A deep rumble sounded in her ears, but instead of casting a glance to the far-off thunder, she concentrated on where Source assured her “all will be revealed.”

Wind rustled through the nearby grove. Again came a threatening rumble of rain. Why was it so bloody cold? She dared to look back up for a full moon she remembered shining over the Red Lion when something caught her attention. Something in the forest. Running. Drawing closer, fast.