Bren shifted objectives, and went to be introduced to the Calrunaidi guests, which gave him a chance to bend aside and say, quickly and quietly into Cajeiri’s young ear—“Your mother,young gentleman. Go attend her. Quietly. Now.”

It was not a case of warning the average eight-year-old. Cajeiri was a veteran of literal fire-fights andpalace intrigue.

Did the boy blurt out, I don’t care? Or ask, sullenly, What does shewant?

No. The boy did none of those things. Cajeiri said in a low voice, with a deep bow, “Please excuse me, nandi. I have just received a request from my mother.”

Bren did not even glance at Ilisidi as Cajeiri left. Ilisidi knew exactly what he had done and he knew she knew he knew, and suspected there had been no message from Damiri whatsoever. Ilisidi might well make her displeasure known in some minor way, over the next several days. Bren paid that prospect no heed, smiled and bowed in all courtesy to the lord of Calrunaidi. “One is very pleased to make your acquaintance, nandi. The aiji-dowager speaks very highly of you.”

“Delighted, nand’ paidhi.”

Conversation then rapidly went from, “Will you be in the city long?” all the way to “If you find yourself in need on the East Coast, nand’ paidhi, consider my house open to you.”

So it was not a bad meeting at all . . . give or take Ilisidi’s grip on his arm as he left the conversation, and a whispered, “Paidhi, do not meddle.”

“Forgive me, aiji-ma.” He was not in the least penitent.

Her firm grip headed him in Damiri’s general direction. As good as walking into a war zone.

“One advises against a meeting with the consort tonight, aiji-ma.”

“Nonsense. This is my granddaughter-in-law. What could possibly be amiss?”

The hell! he thought. If his bodyguard were present even the aiji-dowager would not take advantage as she was doing. But he dared not object as Ilisidi steered them straight into hostile waters. Cajeiri was in conversation with his mother, receiving some instruction when they arrived. Cajeiri shot them a very dismayed look.

“Granddaughter-in-law,” Ilisidi said smoothly. “The festivity is a complete success. We heartily compliment you.”

There was scant warmth in Damiri’s eyes when she said, “My husband’s staff deserves all the compliments for the evening, of course. You may recall my own staff is no longer in the city.”

Ilisidi stood, both hands on her cane. “Yet you are the hostess,” she said, and with a thump of the cane. “And you have been admirable. —Let us say something long unsaid, Granddaughter-in-law, which we should have said long ago. We applaudyour choice to remain with my grandson. We supportyou in doing so. And we entirelyunderstand your reasoning.”

“Nand’ dowager, it is a clanmatter.”

“So was your marriage,” Ilisidi said sharply, thank God in a low tone of voice. “Age grants us some perspective on these things, and since our chances for conversation have been limited in recent days, Granddaughter-in-law, bear with us: we are moderately private in this noisy crowd. I freely admit, I counseled my grandson against taking an Ajuri consort. I knew the peace between Ajuri and Atageini would be temporary . . .”

God, Bren thought. There was noway to stop the aiji-dowager once the aiji-dowager had decided to say something. At least the buzz in the room had not quieted: no one had appeared to notice the exchange.

“We were keenly awareof your opposition, nand’ dowager.”

Ilisidi tipped her head back a little, giving Damiri, who was much the taller, a somewhat oblique look. “I was opposed to the union and strongly opposed to the formal marriage. Granddaughter-in-law, I am rarelywrong. But you have astonished me. You have grown far beyond what subtlety Ajuri could ever have taught you. You have qualitiesI attribute to your Atageini blood. My grandson chose very well, and I freely admit it.”

“Do you?” Damiri’s glance was steel-hard. “Your approval is some years late in coming.”

“Whether or not we can ever be allies is questionable. But one would preferalliance.”

There was still the general buzz and motion of a crowded room about them. Their voices had remained low. Bren stood there with his heart racing, he, the diplomat, frozen in dismay, and not seeing a damned thing he could do to divert the train wreck. Tabini was the only recourse, and Tabini was not looking this way.

“Alliance?” Damiri said stiffly. “Alliance with you, nandi, is dangerous for an Ajuri. What do youwant that I can give? —Because I am well assured this is notan act of generosity.”

“Peace,” Ilisidi said firmly. “Peace in my grandson’s household and my great-grandson’s life. Peace in which my great-grandson can enjoyhaving a sister.”

“You have never called on me,” Damiri said. “Ever. Only on your grandson.”

“Youhave never invited me,” Ilisidi said sharply.

“I aminviting you,” Damiri retorted in the exact same tone. “Tomorrow,morning tea.”

“Perfectly acceptable,” Ilisidi snapped. The dowager, in fact, had neveraccepted invitations from those of inferior rank or junior years. Tonight she had solicited such invitations at dinner, and now as good as asked for another, far harder come by. The tones involved, hers and Damiri’s, were steel on steel.

But that was the way of these two; and the lords of the aishidi’tat, when they made war or peace, did so for policy and in consideration of clan loyalties. A second try at harmony, in changed circumstances, couldwell work. Bren just held his breath and courted invisibility.

“Our division is well-known,” Ilisidi said. “Come, leave the young gentleman to the paidhi’s very competent care and walk about with me. Let us lay these rumors of division and amaze your guests, who think they know us so well.”

“Ha,” Damiri said, and off they went, a tall, young, and extremely pregnant woman side by side with a diminutive grandmother with a cane. They walked slowly, Atageini green and white and Ragi black and red, moving through the crowd, pausing to speak to this and that person.

Bren cast a look at Tabini, who had stopped talking to Geigi and gazed at a Situation that was bound to have its final act sooner or later in private—likely with both women in his sitting room.

Bren drew a deep breath then, and exchanged a look with Cajeiri. “Well, young gentleman?”

“Do you think they really are making peace, nand’ Bren?”

“They are both very smart,” Bren said. The show out there was the focus of Tabini’s attention, and Calrunaidi’s; and Tatiseigi’s, and Geigi’s. It was an Event. It was going to make the news, no question, like Damiri’s wearing Atageini colors—two pieces of news that would probably overshadow Geigi’s return to the station.

That part would suit Geigi. A blowup between the dowager and the consort would not.

“My great-grandmother wants something,” Cajeiri said.

“One is very certain she does,” Bren said uncomfortably. “One only hopes they both want the same thing.”

“I am on my own right now,” Cajeiri said, stolid-faced as any adult, then volunteered. “Not just for the party. My bodyguard is away at the Guild for days and days. Antaro and Jegari are getting certified.”

“For weapons, nandi?”

A nod. “I have two servants, now, all my own. And my tutor. I wish I could come stay with you, nandi. I am so bored. And the place is very quiet at night.”

“When will your aishid be back?”

“A day or so, they said.” A pause. “My father is too busy and my mother is very uncomfortable. And I hopeI am going to get my party. Please see to it, nandi.”

“One wishes one could help, young gentleman. One very much wishes it. Why are they advancing your bodyguard’s certification? Do you know?”