Captain Vorpatril's alliance

“Hidden in the back of the store, was it, lest it frighten away customers?”

Ivan’s lips twitched. “Yep.”

Miles leaned back, his smile stretching in an unsettling way‑that is, if you knew Miles. “I also understand some very unexpected congratulations are in order.”

“News gets around fast,” Ivan grumped.

“I was in on it from the first day the reports started coming in. Your mother called me to ask me to explain it to her, as if I would know anything‑I told her to apply to Allegre, which she did, apparently to more satisfactory effect.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not my fault,” muttered Ivan.

Miles’s brows rose, most annoyingly. “You married a woman you’d known barely a day, and it wasn’t your fault?”

“Well, it wasn’t! It was an accident. And anyway, it’s only a temporary expedient. If you’ve read the ImpSec reports, you know why. She was in danger.”

“I heard various recaps, from various people.” Miles drummed his fingertips on his comconsole desk.

“My mother talk to you this morning?”

“No, not her. In any case, I have called to invite you to bring your blushing accident and her blue‑she really is bright blue?”

Ivan nodded.

“‑and her blue companion to Vorkosigan House this afternoon for a get‑to‑know‑you Ma Kosti tea.”

Ivan hesitated, concealing the small spurt of saliva that spontaneously appeared in his mouth at any reference to Miles’s famous cook. Damned conditioning. “That’s bribery.”

“As an Imperial Auditor, I am only above taking bribes, not handing them out.”

“You’ve never shown an interest in any of my girlfriends before.”

“You’ve never married any of your girlfriends before, Ivan. And in any case, I’m off to Sergyar soon for what may be an extended stay, so I don’t want to miss my chance.”

“To roast me? You’ll doubtless have others.” Get in line.

“Ah…” Miles took in, and let out, a long breath. “Make that requests and requires your attendance. Someone else wants to meet her, in an informal setting. We figured my library would do. Doubling up on my mission planning at the same time.”

Ivan paused, his heart sinking. “Oh.”

“Sixteen‑hundred sharp.”

“Uh, right. Sharp.”

“See you then.” Miles cut the com in his best grandiose My‑Lord‑the‑Imperial‑Auditor‑dismisses‑you style.

There was really no call to whimper. But Ivan wanted to.

Tej sat in the passenger side of Ivan Xav’s sporty two‑seater groundcar, with Rish balanced awkwardly on her lap, and fumed in terror.

Gregor, he’d said. As if it might be just any Gregor off the street, and not, say, the absolute ruler of three worlds, as far above a Great House baron as a baron was above a gutter grubber. Mister Lord Ivan Xav Oh‑I’m‑not‑anyone‑important had led her astray, Tej swore, for the last time. And now she was being semi‑forcibly carted off to meet Gregor, no, THE Gregor‑oh, yeah, no, he wants to meet you – in about the most diametrical opposite of hide‑and‑be‑sought‑by‑no‑one as she could have imagined. No, she couldn’t have imagined this. Tej felt as if she had laser targeters dancing all over her skin.

And the Imperial Auditor Coz was scarcely better. She’d barely had time to look up the definition of the title before having to get ready. The man had the power to order summary executions, for pity’s sake.

At least she and Rish were dressed well for it. Lady Alys’s expert had guided them to a semi‑custom shop, the sort of place where one had a personal laser scan and then spent a happy hour poring over the vid catalog and experimenting with various virtual try‑ons upon one’s three‑dimensional holovid replica, before selecting garments to be made up on‑demand, to fit exactly, by computerized fabricators. The dresser had dubbed the results ‘casual,’ which Tej eventually realized simply meant not suitable for an Imperial function or ambassadorial ball. They had returned burdened with bags to Ivan Xav’s flat, where the dresser had reported judiciously to the waiting husband, The new Lady Vorpatril has an excellent eye for color. Having experienced the dresser in action, Tej took that as no small compliment. And then Ivan Xav had dropped the news, or bomb, of where they were going next…Had Lady Alys known?

Ivan, with a glance aside at his stacked and glaring passengers, took the next corner with improved caution, and then slowed, thank the hovering fates. A tall stone wall topped with iron spikes sped by, and then he slowed some more, turning in to a short space in front of broad wrought‑iron gates. A man in a strange brown uniform with silver embroidery on the collar and cuffs, flanked by a second in black, with silver frosting ditto, emerged from a kiosk and approached the groundcar. Ivan Xav raised the canopy, and they peered suspiciously in. “Ah. Lord Ivan.”

Ivan Xav raised a hand in greeting. “And two guests, as per.”

The man in black, unsmiling, aimed some sort of scanner at Tej and Rish, then nodded.

“You are expected.” The man in brown and silver waved them on as the gates swung open.