Most of the delegations once again opted for a private meal, so I went straight to the observer quarters. They had talked Tony into letting them eat on our back patio, and when I came out, I found Dagorkun, Karat, Tomato, Tony, and Gaston, all situated around the big outside table enjoying Orro’s version of the traditional American breakfast. If the traditional breakfast included serving sunny-side-up eggs in little baskets made of French-fried potatoes and bejeweled with beads of crystallized but delectable ketchup and maple syrup.
The moment I sat down, Droplet emerged from the kitchen, placed a plate with my own egg in a basket and a cup of coffee in front of me, and vanished back into the kitchen. The table was so full of food, it was a wonder it didn’t break. I stared at the spread for a long moment, struggling with decision paralysis, then put a couple of sausage links on my plate, added some fruit, and took a sip of my brew.
Mmm, delicious caffeine.
“I thought you preferred tea,” Tony said. His plate was the size of a Thanksgiving platter, and he was putting food away like he would never get a chance to eat again. There was a reason he was Orro's favorite visitor. Well, aside from Gaston, that is.
“I do. Tea isn’t cutting it right now.”
“Dushegubs?” he asked.
“Mhm. And paparazzi. And pirates. Which one of you let Caldenia into the otrokar quarters last night?”
Gaston raised his hand. “C’est moi, je suis coupable.”
Tony rolled his eyes.
Why was I not surprised? “You are supposed to watch her, not cater to her whims.”
“I have a dual mission, to assist you and to assist the Sovereign. George, and the Office of Arbitration, want the spousal selection to go smoothly.”
Of course, George wouldn’t let it go.
“Watching Her Grace is truly an honor and a privilege,” Gaston said. “Her plotting is sublime. When I grow up, I want to be just like her. If she was taking apprentices, I would immediately pledge myself on bended knee. Sadly, she isn’t interested at this time. I’ve asked.”
That’s just what we needed, Gaston underfoot.
“That is a spectacularly terrible, no good, awful idea,” Tony said. “That woman can dissect you with two sentences. You’ll never recover.”
“And that’s precisely why I would want to be her apprentice,” Gaston said.
“What was that language you used?” Karat asked.
“French. A version of it, my lady,” Gaston said.
Oooh, “my lady.” Someone had caught on to vampire etiquette.
Dagorkun frowned.
“Does your planet have more than one language?” Karat asked.
“It has many. I learned to speak French and English at the same time. They are both my mother tongues. Does your planet have other languages?”
She shook her head. “No, we have various dialects, but they are all distributaries of the same linguistic river. Your other language sounds interesting.”
“Would you like to hear more?” he asked.
Dagorkun’s frown deepened.
“Yes. I think I would.”
Gaston leaned forward.
“me sentinelle,
Murmurons l'aveu
De la nuit si nulle
Et du jour en feu.
Des humains suffrages,
Des communs élans
Là tu te dégages
Et voles selon.”
He had a really good voice, deep and resonant, and somehow French seemed to suit him.
Tony rolled his eyes again.
“What does it mean?” Karat asked.
Gaston made a small, elegant gesture with his hand. “It’s a poem by Arthur Rimbaud. It speaks of the eternity one finds in the moment the setting sun touches the ocean or two lovers make a whispered promise. It’s a quest for unlocking infinity in an instant and carrying it forever in your memory as a defense against the inevitability of torment.”
I stopped eating and looked at him.
“It’s true,” he said.
“Fascinating,” Karat said. She anchored her elbow on the table and rested her chin on the back of her hand. “Tell me more.”
The muscles on Dagorkun’s jaw stood out.
Karat turned toward me to reach for the small jar of jam and winked.
Oh. Oh! She was doing it on purpose.
“What would you like to hear?” Gaston asked.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Karat smeared a bit of jam on a tiny bagel shaped like House Krahr’s crest. Orro had really outdone himself. “Does the Horde have any fascinating poetry, Under-Khan?”
Dagorkun unlocked his jaws. “Yes.”
“Would you recite some for us?”
“No.”
I drank my coffee to keep from laughing.
“Aww, how disappointing.” Karat fluttered her long eyelashes.
The inn tugged on me. A communication from House Meer. I waved my hand, so nobody would be startled, and Gertrude Hunt delivered a screen showing Bestata to me. The vampire candidate wore a stripped-down version of armor, the kind knights wore during training. I pulled the practice weapons out of storage.
“I wish to speak to Lady Renadra.”
Well, since we are using the official titles instead of first names…
I looked at Karat. “Do you wish to speak to Lady Emindra?”
“Yes.”
I moved the screen to her.
The racks of practice weapons rose through the turf of the lawn. They were the exact size and weight of the standard vampire weapons but made from a different material and their edges were dull. Being hit with one of those still hurt.
“Do you fancy a brief exertion this morning?” Bestata asked.
Karat’s eyes flashed. “Always.”
“I suppose someone will come to escort me to your location?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Excellent. I look forward to a bit of exercise.”
The screen went blank. Karat rose. “I’ll be right back.”
I turned to Gaston. “Would you mind fetching Bestata?”
He gave me a shallow bow. “It’s my pleasure.”
“Thank you.”
Gaston left the table.
“How did you know she would say yes?” Tomato asked. “You brought the weapons before they even agreed to fight.”
Orro had served him small cubes of raw steak. Tomato pierced them with his claws, dipped them into a saucer of spiced honey, and gently popped them into his mouth one by one, taking a long time to chew each piece.
“I recognized the training armor she wore. Every time Bestata appears in public, she is in full formal mode. There was only one reason she would call while wearing practice armor. She wanted to spar, and there was only one person among us she would challenge.”
“But how did you know Karat would accept?” Tomato asked.
“A vampire knight of Karat’s standing never backs down from a challenge by a rival house. This is Bestata’s chance to get a feel for Karat’s skills. Karat knows it and is happy to demonstrate she isn’t worried about House Meer’s intelligence gathering. Also, Karat is just like my sister. She can’t resist the sword. If there is one in the vicinity, her hand starts twitching toward it.”
Dagorkun drank his tea. He was clearly brooding.
“Why didn’t you recite By the Light of the Moon, by the Trail of Blood?” Tony asked.