Jase had met her before. And knew, at least, the aiji-dowager’s abrupt manner; but lasttime he hadn’t been able to understand a word except Felicitous greetingsand My name is Jason. Don’t shoot.

They reached the foyer again, and enjoyed a few moments alone with Cenedi, Jago, Saidin, and the flowers, before another party turned up at the door, the lord of Berigai and his entourage, early, while Bren was sure the company in the breakfast room was still engaged in preliminary negotiation and had hardly gotten to the general walking tour the staff expected.

But he knew that Berigai, in whose province Grigiji the astronomer emeritus lived and taught, was well-disposed to him; and by extension, to Jase or whomever the paidhi wished to introduce him to—the Grigiji affair having brought good repute to the observatory and prosperity to the region. It was a very auspicious start to the party which would begin in the formal dining room with a few tidbits and a glass of spirits until it had gathered numbers.

And until the business in the family was settled.

More guests showed up. Jase was bright-eyed, and stayed with hot tea—they both did, as some of the guests also chose to do. There was nothing on the menu, Cook had promised them, except any dish with the red or the purple vegetable, that was harmful to humans. There were a couple of noble guests clearly in the Tatiseigi camp who spent a great deal of time in the corner looking toward them, and discussing matters in private behind the floral arrangement.

Then another arrival, who created some movement among the quiet security presence, and brought Cenedi to consult with Tano, quietly, just outside the dining room. Another lord walked in, unescorted.

Algini slipped to Bren’s side.

“Nand’ paidhi, Banichi wishes you to know that lord Badissuni is in the company this evening.”

Badissuni, Bren thought, looking at the thin, grim-faced lord who broke into a pasted smile as a servant offered him a drink, then coasted up to the lords and ladies around the dining table. Conversation there staggered, took note, and lurched forward valiantly.

Algini had gone, doubtless on some business known only to security. The business in the Marid had just walked in, had a drink, and smiled its way around the table with the occasional flat, wary glance atevi gave to the novelty of humans.

“What’s the trouble-in-the-house?” Jase asked in a low voice, and this time the noun was entirely appropriate.

“Badissuni, from the peninsula. Messenger to Tabini. Don’tget involved with him.” The doorway electronics, he was sure, contained a metal detector of some kind. His mind was busy adding up Badissuni as a guest while the relatives of the man Badissuni was serving (and wished to kill: dead before autumn, Banichi had said) were guesting in the house of the lady Direiso, who was Tatiseigi’s ally last year when Tatiseigi was plotting against Tabini—who was back on the kitchen tour with Tatiseigi and Damiri looking for contraband in the vegetable bins, God save them.

Badissuni smiled at everyone but him and Jase: the smile was still there, but it went rigid and unpleasant when his gaze fell on either of them, and Bren avoided staring back. Jase was staring—and he moved between Jase and the view of trouble.

“Don’t look at him, nadi. You invite trouble.”

“He doesn’t like us here.”

“No,” Bren said. “He doesn’t like us anywhere.”

Jago appeared from the doorway and definitely kept a watch on the situation. Cenedi had gone back to keep an eye on the dowager and no doubt to pass a message, but Jago tracked them, and eased up next to him.

“That is Badissuni, Bren-ji. Don’t come close to him.”

“Is he armed, nadi?”

“No one brings weapons past the door save the three authorized security present: the aiji’s, the aiji-dowager’s, and lord Tatiseigi’s, one assures you, nadi.”

Which counted his own among the aiji’s and Saidin technically among Tatiseigi’s, to be sure.

“Danger?” Jase asked.

“Be careful, nadi,” Jago said to him. “Only be careful. He is an invited guest.”

“Who invited him, nadi?” Bren asked.

“The aiji,” Jago said—Jago who’d wished for the contract on that lordling’s life, and who’d already occupied a rooftop vantage in the Hagrani estate. Jago was, he was sure, armed; and that coat surely concealed body armor. “Don’t stand near him, nadiin-ji.”

“Nadiin.” Madam Saidin appeared and spoke in a clear voice. “The host suggests the party adjourn to the breakfast room.”

They lingered with Jago, letting the lords and ladies exit, Badissuni among them. The party left a table of serving platters mostly down to crumbs by now, and a clutter of abandoned glasses which the servants hastened to gather up on trays.

“What’s happening?” Jase asked.

“Just be calm,” Bren said, and they drifted in the wake of the others toward the restored rooms, which rapidly filled shoulder to shoulder with guests admiring the lilies, praising the workmanship, gossiping about the event last year which had necessitated the repairs. There was applause, and lights glared as cameras pretended to be unobtrusive, creating the effect of sunlight across the lilies and the blinded guests. Security was tense in that moment, and Naidiri himself, chief of Tabini’s security, set himself in their path and moved the traveling cameras definitively out of the room.

The camera lights went out. Music began, a simple duet of pipes played by two of the servants, who were quite good at it. Talk buzzed above the music and grew animated.

The two humans found refuge against the restored frieze and simply listened to the conversation, as Tatiseigi and two other provincial lords discussed the menu, and Tatiseigi looked at least marginally cheerful, except the looks he threw Badissuni.

“Doing all right?” Bren asked.

“I think,” Jase said. He looked tired, and it wastiring to keep up with a high-speed translation problem. Jase had gone into it on the edge of his nerves.

“So tell me,” Ilisidi said, coasting up, one of the few atevi present not too much taller than a human, “how do you find life on Earth? Different than the ship, nand’ paidhi?”

Jase cast him a desperate look.

“Answer,” Bren said. “nand’ dowager, I did tell him be careful with his language.”

“Different,” Jase said. “Thank you, nand’ dowager.”

“Vastly improved,” Ilsidi said, leaning on her stick, creating a small space around them by her presence. “The last time I saw you, you and those two human women were boarding a plane for Shejidan, and they were bound for the island. How arethey faring, nand’ paidhi?”

“I hear from my companion from the ship, nand’ dowager. She fares well, thank you.”

“And nand’ Hanks?”

Nand’ Hanks, hell. Ilisidi neverused honorifics for Deana Hanks. Bren’s heart rate kicked up a notch and weariness with the noise went sailing on a sea of adrenaline.

“I don’t hear from nand’ Hanks, nand’ dowager.”

“Does your companion?”

“Aiji-ma.” Bren took a deep breath. “How do you find the lilies?”

Ilisidi broke into a grin. “I was wondering how to get you off to yourself, Bren-ji.” She snagged his arm and drew him aside, and he could only go, trusting Jase to the security watching both of them.

“Neighbors will talk, aiji-ma.”

“Become a scandal with me.” She leaned on his arm and directed their steps toward the windows. “Ah, the city air. You should come back to Malguri.”

“I wish that I could, aiji-ma.”

“I think, if the schedule permits it, I shall invite the astronomer emeritus for a weekend at midsummer. Thatshould prove interesting, don’t you think?”

“The last I saw they were shooting at strangers, aiji-ma.”

“They neednew ideas. I would delight to have you at the gathering, nadi. Do consider it. Malguri in summer. Boating on the lake.—You should,” the dowager added, with a wicked grin, “bring this nice young man. He has possibilities.”