34. Brandy and Wine

New Toledo, Vidako

Imperium Stellarum
October 4, 2847

By the time that he and Cassie had sat down to dinner, Arc had been introduced to the chief executive officer of the First Bank of New Toledo, the owner of Anderson & Reyes Construction, two members of the board at Saint Pacificus Hospital, and a district judge. He had the distinct impression that not a single one of them had any particular desire to speak to him—but they all wanted to talk to the princess imperial, for as long as she was willing to listen.

Nicté Lucia Montalban hadn’t been lying when she’d promised him that he’d be reunited with Cassie as soon as the duke had made his entrance; the duchess escorted Arc right over to where the hangers-on were already gathering about her husband and his prize guest. There, she quite seamlessly accomplished the task of taking Cassie’s place on her husband’s arm, while handing Arc himself off to Cassie.

Over the next forty-five minutes, Arc found that his opinion was solicited on such a wide variety of topics that his head practically began to spin. The only comfort was that the questions were clearly only meant to be polite, and no one seemed inclined to remember much of anything he said. He caught occasional glimpses of Jessica, usually hovering along one wall of the parlour like Cassie’s shadow, but no one ever even tried to speak to the imperial guard.

“How long, do you think, before word of Admiral Wai’s success reaches us here at Vidako?” the executive from the bank asked. She was a woman who’d clearly benefitted from telomere therapy to achieve a sort of extended youth, and Arc suspected that every single thing she wore—from shoes to earrings—was worth more than anything his parents owned.

“War is the realm of uncertainty; three quarters of the factors on which action in war is based are wrapped in a fog of greater or lesser uncertainty,” Arc replied. He was curious to see whether there would be the faintest hint of recognition in her eyes, but instead the woman’s forehead wrinkled in a frown.

“Von Clausewitz, eighteen thirty-two. The old Terran Kingdom of Prussia, defunct for—well, quite a while.” A man’s voice broke into the conversation; Cassie and Arc both turned to regard two officers in the dress-reds of the duke’s guard as they walked up to join the conversation. One had a neatly trimmed dark mustache and distinct similarity of facial features to Duke Montalban, while the other was a muscular man with skin the color of dark, jungle soil, and a bright grin.

“Commander Esteban,” the CEO said, inclining her head. “Your mechs looked most impressive this evening.”

“They’re sharply painted, at least,” the black man grumbled, and extended his hand, first to Cassie and then to Arc. “But I’d rather have a few of those Janissaries sitting down on Academy Hill. Lieutenant Commander Marcus Ajewọle—and the walking dictionary of military theorists is my husband, Commander Esteban Alarcón Montalban.”

“You’re the two we’ve been waiting on before sitting down to dinner, then,” Cassie said, flashing the men a smile. “Duke Alvarez’s younger brother, yes?” She shook each of their hands in turn, and then it was Arc’s turn.

“Arc Sandhurst,” he said, as he grasped Commander Ajewọle’s hand. “I was curious whether anyone would actually pick up on the quote.”

“Professor DeVault would have never let me live it down if I had not,” Commander Montalban admitted, with a rueful grin. “Based on the fact you reeled it off in casual conversation, I’d hazard a guess you’re one of his.”

“You’d be correct,” Arc admitted.

“You said you’re married?” Cassie asked.

“Ten years now; Progenitor knows how Esteban’s put up with me for that long, but he hasn’t left yet,” Ajewọle joked. “We’ve got two kids running around here somewhere, but they’ll be avoiding us.”

“Up to trouble, no doubt, with their cousins,” Montalban said, with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “But if your escort knows his military theorists, Princess, I think I need to speak with my sister-in-law and make certain we’re sitting close enough to have a real conversation.”

“Do you have any guess on when we’ll hear back about Admiral Wai’s rescue efforts, though, Commander?” the CEO pressed. “The cadet here didn’t quite give me an answer.”

“Of course he did,” Esteban shot back. “You simply didn’t want to hear it. The distances are too great, the delay in communications too severe for us to speculate in any useful way. Not to mention that none of us here have been briefed on the capabilities of the enemy, nor the conditions on the ground. The battle could be over while we speak here, or it could drag on for months. Excuse us, please, Señora Ruiz. I suspect that we’re about to bore you with a great deal of technical military talk.”

“Of course,” Ruiz said. Clearly dissatisfied, she bowed her head to Cassie and withdrew.

“Thank you,” Arc said, lowering his voice.

“Don’t even worry about it,” Ajewọle said, nudging Arc with a gentle elbow. “Now, tell us about the academy. They still run all you mole-rats through Hard Burn? They take you up to the lake?”

Arc exchanged a grin with Cassie, and for the first time since he’d stepped out of the VTOL onto the tarmac, he felt himself relaxing.

Esteban Montalban did slip off, at some point, to accomplish his self appointed mission, and the duchess must have been prevailed upon to agree to his request. When the duke announced it was time to go through into the dining room, Arc found himself seated with Cassie on one side, Esteban and Marcus Ajewọle across the table and, somehow, the duke’s son Santiago on Cassie’s right. Whatever reticence Arc had felt about the boy’s inclusion vanished as soon as Santiago opened his mouth.

“Have either of you fought in a duel yet?” he asked, dark eyes shining with enthusiasm. While heaping servings of paella, packed with shellfish, went onto everyone else’s plates, Santiago didn’t seem even the slightest bit interested in the food.

Arc blinked, but Cassie simply smiled. “I thought you were interested in architecture.”

Santiago rolled his eyes, while Esteban and Marcus shared a quick glance and then broke out laughing.

“Yeah,” Marcus said. “So interested that he spends all of his free time studying our hangar so he can think up ways to improve it.”

“Architecture is what my father and mother want me to study,” Santiago said, lowering his voice. “No, what I’m interested in is piloting. But father won’t hear of it.”

“No, military service is for us second sons and daughters, isn’t it?” Esteban asked, looking across the table to meet Cassie’s eyes quite deliberately. “Just as it was in ancient times, among my ancestors in España. One to inherit, one for war, perhaps a knighthood, and one to enter the church.”

“With the daughters to be married off for political advantage?” Cassie responded. “The Imperium is better than that, thankfully. If we’ve done nothing else, at least we’ve left discrimination based on gender in the past.”

“Naw, we just discriminate on the basis of social class, instead,” Marcus Ajewọle said. “Don’t look at me like that, Santiago, you know I’m right. Your father took a lot of grief when he brought home your mother, and I see how everyone looks at me. You can’t tell me they aren’t parading one duke’s daughter after another in front of you. And when’s the last time a member of the Imperial family got hitched to a commoner?”

Cassie scowled at that. “That’s up to the emperor. The Right of Espousal -”

“—says your father has to approve. And he isn’t interested in people like me,” Marcus said.

“This is an old argument, and not one that is likely to result in a pleasant meal,” Esteban broke in. “Let it be, my love. If they haven’t broken us up after all this time, it isn’t going to happen now. Anyway, my favorite nephew was asking about duels, weren’t you, Santiago?”

“Your only nephew,” the boy grumbled, but leaned forward. “Yes. Have either of you fought a duel yet?”

Arc laughed and shook his head. “They haven’t even let us out of the simulators,” he answered. “We are finally practicing with weapons, though. Have you ever got to fire one of those twenty millimeter autocannons? They warn you the things have a kick, but until you actually pull the trigger, you don’t understand.”

“Uncle Esteban won a duel,” Santiago said, his eyes twinkling.

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“Have you?” Cassie asked. “Is it a story you’re willing to tell?”

“I can’t do it with a dry throat, at least,” Esteban complained, then took a long drink of wine from his glass. “Alright. So our father—the previous duke—was determined that, since his eldest son had thrown away the chance at making a good match -”

“A good political match,” Marcus interrupted.

“Can I tell the story, or not?” Esteban said, turning to face his husband.

Marcus held up his hands. “You can tell it, and I’ll only correct you when you need it!”

Arc couldn’t help but laugh along with Cassie and Santiago. It was obvious from the boy’s reaction that he’d heard this story more than once, but he still hung on every word of the performance. And it was a performance, he was certain, with Marcus playing things up for their audience.

“- so he’d set me up with a betrothal to one of the Jahalin girls, at the time,” Esteban went on. “There were only two problems, of course, with that. The first was that I don’t have the slightest interest in women, and the second was -”