Haidiri was this new lord’s name.

“Felicitations, nandi,” Bren said.

“I have told nand’ Haidiri,” Geigi said, “that if he has any difficulties, any worries, he should contact your office directly, nand’ Bren.”

“Indeed, without hesitation, do so,” Bren said. “I amyour neighbor, after all, at least when you visit Kajiminda. Since this will be your first sitting in the legislature, the marshal of the legislature should be in contact with you, and if he is not, let me know, nandi. Do not hesitate in the least.” He discovered two lords in sight: Haijdin and Maidin, strong supporters of the aiji, on the liberal side of the legislature. “Let me introduce you, nandi, to two gentlemen you very much need to meet. Lord Geigi, your indulgence.”

“Go, go,” Geigi said. “I shall pay my respects to the dowager before we are called to dinner.”

In point of fact, Lord Haidiri was definitely going to need the paidhi’s help—and the aiji-dowager’s, and the help of the two gentlemen ahead, and likely the aiji’s help, too, if Tabini could be persuaded. Important issues directly affecting Haidiri’s clan, Sarini Province, and the peace of the region were centermost in the current session of the legislature, and this country gentleman had many of the keys to the situation in his district. One was certain Haidiri was well aware of those keys—Geigi would not have appointed him otherwise. But having the keys and having the associations to best utilize that knowledge were two different matters.

Bren made the introductions. There was a round of bows. And there was, by opportunity, as a third man strolled into range, another name to add to the new lord’s resources, Paturandi—a scholarly, middle-aged man, unhappily as long-winded as his notorious predecessor, Brominandi, but a goodhearted fellow who had suffered socially from his predecessor’s reputation. Paturandi was happy to make any new acquaintance who would engage him socially—and as lord of a small southern district he definitely had a regional interest in this new lord in Targai estate.

“Such a great pleasure, nandiin,” Paturandi said, and went on to join Haijdin and Maidin in asking about trade negotiations with the newly-opening Marid, right at Targai’s doorstep.

Thoseintroductions were a thorough success.

Bren wended his way back to Geigi, to effect a rescue of the situation should Geigi and Tatiseigi have crossed glances . . . those two gentlemen being long-time rivals for the dowager’s attentions. Tatiseigi was a jealous sort, and a conservative, which Geigi, a Rational Determinist who denied the validity of numerology, certainly was not.

But at that very opportune moment the servants reopened the dining room doors and the major domo invited them all in for the seating.

There followed the usual sorting out by place markers at the long table. The highest lords were relatively sure of their seats—alert, of course, for any untoward significance in the positioning they might discover in those markers. The lowest at the table, conversely, had to do a little searching.

Bren found his own place with no more than a glance at the card and white ribbon. His seat was very close to the head of the table, with the honoree, Lord Geigi on his left, closer to Tabini-aiji’s seat. Lord Geigi and Lord Tatiseigi were verydiplomatically seated across from each other, at exactlythe same level . . . particularly well done on the part of the major domo. Young Cajeiri was sandwiched between Lord Tatiseigi, his mother’s uncle on his left and his as-yet-to-arrive mother on the right. That seated the boy across the table from his great-grandmother, Ilisidi being seated on Lord Geigi’s left . . .

More significantly, Ilisidi’s seat would be directly opposite her granddaughter-in-law, Lady Damiri. Thatwas a scary balancing act. The two were famously notgetting along at the moment . . . not that they ever had, but it had become bitter.

Tabini was the only chess piece capable of blocking those two—and that was exactly where his seat was—between them. Bren was relieved to find Lord Haijdin on his own right, a pleasant positioning, with Maidin almost opposite, next to Tatiseigi. Haidiri’s important but new status kept him midway down the table, next to, one was glad to see, a set of affable and reasonable people. The lord who had had Bren in his sights was safely down among the lower seats.

Bren slipped into his chair, white-lacquered ironwood, massive, ancient, and so heavy that a human, momentarily unattended by servants and bodyguard, had rather slip sideways into it than wrestle it further in any direction. The linen-covered table sparkled end to end with crystal and silver. Candles contributed a warmer glow as servants dimmed the room lights. Flowers of fortunate number, color, and type were arranged in banks not quite high enough to pose a wall to a human guest, or to Ilisidi or Cajeiri.

And with guests in their places, the whole gracious machinery of the aiji’s personal dining hall clicked into operation, drinks being renewed, the servants ascertaining special needs of the diners—and assuring the paidhi-aiji quietly that there were certain dishes to avoid, but that those were few. By ironclad tradition, there could only be light, pleasant talk in this room, no business done, no serious matters discussed, except the routine warning to the paidhi about alkaloids in the sauce.

Chatter resumed briefly. Then Tabini-aiji arrived with Damiri at his side, and everyone had to rise—excepting the aiji-dowager, who simply nodded. The aiji was conservatively resplendent in the black and red of the Ragi atevi. Damiri arrived in, yes, white and greenthis evening. She was pregnant—imminently due, in fact—and she had been through personal hell in recent days: her father, head of Ajuri clan, had recently quitted the capital in scandal, which might well have justified a less cheerful expression. But instead she appeared smiling, relaxed and gracious beside her somber husband, and—for the first time in years—wearing her uncle Tatiseigi’s colors,

Thatwas a statement. One wondered if she had chosen to do it—or if she had been ordered to do it, a question undoubtedly on the minds of every guest present.

Everyone settled again. Polite chatter resumed at the lower seats. The upper ones, where lords were in the know about the intimate politics, remained in stunned silence, at a public shift of the consort’s allegiance that no one had quite expected.

Damiri’s color choice had definitely surprised and pleased Lord Tatiseigi. The old conservative had already been in a good mood this evening, rejoicing in his rising importance in court—and in the imminent departure of his chief rival, Lord Geigi.

And now Damiri, mother of the eight-year-old heir, and of a baby soon to be born, was wearing her uncle’s white and green. Granted she had not been likely to appear in her Ajuri father’s colors this evening, but she had not taken the neutral option, either. She was sending a clear signal, taking sides, and Ajuri clan, when they heard of it, would not be happy, no.

Bren had a sip of wine and smiled politely at Lord Tatiseigi—and at Lord Haijdin, who remarked, in a moderate degree of innocence, “Well. One is very pleased to see that.”

The servants meanwhile moved about like an attacking squadron, pouring liquids, arranging napkins. Geigi carried on a conversation directly with Tabini-aiji, while Ilisidi sipped her wine and watched a major shift in allegiances play out.

A move to her advantage? Ilisidi could work with the situation.

And meanwhile Tabini—who had spent his ownyouth in the aiji-dowager’s household—was not letting his wife’s shockwave take its own course down the table.

“We wish to honor our old ally Geigi of Kajiminda tonight,” Tabini said, and his rising brought a quick hush to the dining room. “We shall regret his departure for his post of duty in the heavens, but despite the efforts of our enemies, he is leaving his affairs here in good order. Sarini Province is again at peace. He has amply provided for administration of his clan, in the appointment of Lord Haidiri, whom we welcome to our table for the first time tonight.”