“Only one,” a new voice said over Caleb’s shoulder, drawing glances. She had dark reddish hair and bright jade eyes, whose gleam matched the sheen on her modestly cut gown. She joined the growing knot of young nobles. “But first they have to decide which one owns all the parts.”

Given that Nikol Marik, daughter of Captain-General Jessica Marik, had stolen the punch line, Julian and most of the others chuckled out of politeness. Caleb gave back only a wounded silence, and the others sent uncomfortable glances his direction.

“I’m sorry to interrupt. I recognized Countess Campbell, and I’ve always wanted to make her acquaintance.” She smiled at Caleb and rested her hand lightly on his arm in an attempt to thaw his frosty demeanor. “That joke is one of my favorites,” she said.

Irritation and superiority warred on Caleb’s face, then he smiled in return, which went a long way toward restoring the group’s bonhomie. A passing server lowered a tray near the group, and hands reached for champagne or brandy. Lars Magnusson ordered a Timbiqui dark ale. Julian accepted a sparkling water.

Sandra Fenlon laughed around the rim of her champagne flute when it arrived. “Always the steadfast, Julian.”

“When I see the prince relax with a drink,” Julian said, “I’ll consider it.” The comment caught Caleb trading his emptied brandy snifter for a fresh glass from a passing tray. His cousin started guiltily, then glared sharp daggers.

But Julian hadn’t been upbraiding Caleb. He’d simply been pointing out that the prince’s champion was always on duty. At least, so long as the prince was. Tara Campbell, playing the conciliator, invited Nikol Marik to remain while she stole Caleb away for a waltz.

Sandra chided Julian with a nudge in the ribs. “I doubt we’ll be attacked by an armored column tonight. Enjoy yourself a bit.”

Which was a perfect point in the conversation for Callandre to arrive. Resplendent in a black gown with wide red stripes plunging into a “V” at her navel and matching highlights in the hazelnut hair she’d pinned up for the evening, she returned with the Clan Wolf warrior and in the company of another couple they’d captured on the way back from the serving tables. Callandre had hooked her free arm through the other woman’s, pulling her along almost against her will.

It was the young Combine officer Julian had seen the week before in the company of Vincent Kurita and Warlord Toranaga.

Her escort wore a Nova Cat uniform, curiously devoid of any rank or rate symbol. A mystery.

“Jules used to have nightmares of being attacked by an armored column,” Callandre confided to her new friends. Loudly.

“Only because you gave them to me.”

Why not wave a red flag in front of a Smolensk bull while he was at it?

She smiled slyly. “He’s still bitter because I skewed the bell curve on the JES scores in our third quarter.” Seeing a few puzzled frowns, she explained. “Joint Exercise Simulations at the Nagelring. Armored vehicles versus BattleMechs. My Destroyer took down an entire lance. Julian rated a distant second with five tank kills.”

Julian sipped at his fizzing beverage. It tickled his nose, and loosened his tongue. “You cheated, Callandre,” he said. Then, to be fair: “Well, maybe not. But it was damned unconventional.”

“Wait a minute,” Jasek said. “I heard about that from some friends on Hesperus II who were alumni of the Nagelring.” He stared from Callandre to Julian and back. “You’re Calamity Kell,” he said.

Callandre fumed and Julian laughed at his friend’s discomfiture. It didn’t often happen that way.

To cover her momentary loss of composure, Callandre introduced her new companions. Besides Alaric Wolf, who skulked at the back of the crowd and had accompanied Callandre to the floor nearly under duress, she had returned with Tai-sa Yori Sakamoto and Mech Warrior Kisho of Clan Nova Cat. Julian wondered if he were the only one who caught the cautious glances that passed between the two Combine warriors as they were introduced.

“Quite the enclave,” Nikol Marik offered, looking around. “All we’re missing is a Jade Falcon and a janshi from House Liao, and we’ll have representation from the entire Inner Sphere.” She laughed brightly. “We could convene our own Star League council.”

Having studied the history of the ancient Star League as well as the neo-Star League convened to end the threat of the Clans, Julian did not think they missed much. “I would hope the Inner Sphere is beyond the need for such a governing body, which always seemed to create more trouble than it solved.” The Reunificaiton War. The Amaris coup. Even the Steiner-Davion civil war and the Word of Blake Jihad. All based on the power struggles and intrigues that accompanied the concept of an all-encompassing power.

“Still,” Julian said. He let his gaze wander the lower floor, and the opposite stages. “I haven’t heard much of the Falcons.”

“You aren’t missing anything,” Callandre said with real ice in her voice. And both Tara and Jasek frowned at mention of the Clan.

Julian couldn’t blame them. According to the reports he’d read, The Republic’s forces in Prefecture IX, aided by Jasek’s Stormhammers and Lyran regular forces, had been fighting off a Falcon offensive, and losing, for the better part of a year.

“The Jade Falcons will not send anyone,” Jasek said. “House Liao, because of their recent aggression, will be announced last.”

“After the Hell’s Horses, even?” Lars asked, hearing the name of Khan Gottfried Amirault announced next. He whistled. Winked at Alaric Wolf as if inviting him to share a joke.

Alaric shrugged. His new Clan leathers squeaked with protest. “They hardly merited an invitation in the first place,” he said with no diplomacy whatsoever. Shifting from one foot to the other under everyone’s attention, he continued. “Though I heard their arrival yesterday came complete with a fighter escort and a small parade through the streets of Geneva they put together themselves.” He shook his head. “Still looking for validation. It is almost embarrassing for the rest of us.”

With such strong opinions, Julian wondered if Alaric had been feigning his reluctance. He looked sidelong at the Wolf, offered an amused smile. “I thought all Clans stood on equal footing?”

There was no humor in the Wolf warrior’s glacial blue eyes. Like dead ice. Alaric’s smile came slow and confident, and the crescent scar on the outside of his left eye puckered, only making it seem like he winked in jest.

“Some,” the young Wolf said, “are more equal than others.”

It was certainly a sentiment Caleb Hasek-Sandoval-Davion understood, overhearing it as he and the Countess Northwind rejoined the party.

“And is Clan Wolf more equal than the other Clans?” he asked, thinking to put the young warrior back in his place. Never believing the younger man would have so much brass to openly admit it.

“More than most, aff,” Alaric boasted.

But he lapsed back into silence under Lars Magnusson’s glare, and Caleb retook the spotlight at the center of the small gathering. The Davion heir wasn’t surprised to see Alaric fold so easily, having already sized him up. Ten years Caleb’s junior, though he looked to have had a rougher time of life with his hard face and rough, scarred knuckles, Caleb easily dismissed the younger man as a boisterous warrior.

Instead, he focused his real attention on the newest arrivals. Two military officers from House Kurita’s Draconis Combine.

Members of the delegation that had so blatantly insulted Caleb’s father, and with him the entirety of the Federated Suns!

Callandre Kell noticed him staring, and offered introductions.

“Tai-sa Yori Sakamoto and Kisho Nova Cat, this is Caleb Davion. Son of Prince Harrison.”

Hasek-Sandoval–Davion. Duke of Taygeta, commander (honorary) of the Syrtis Avengers, heir to the throne of the Federated Suns! Julian’s Lyran trull couldn’t even handle a proper introduction. Rather than offering their names to him, as would have been more appropriate, she gave his name to this Yori Sakamoto and Kisho of Clan Nova Cat. Caleb had already put his time in this evening as low man among the real Inner Sphere powers—being seen with his father, briefly, then spending time talking up Exarch Levin and Anson Marik and Trillian Steiner. Comparing notes with Mason, later, would be interesting. Mason had talked quite at length about Trillian Steiner.