“Yes, ma’am.” Given that such differences of opinion had more than once led to one party being taken home to be patched up by medics, Rigi wished him luck. He and Cyril had taken care of troublemakers in the past, but it would be harder for him to leave gracefully now. Or perhaps not. Rigi decided to give him advanced permission to leave if he needed to.
“Ah, here are Miss Deleon and her brother. Excuse me.” Rigi and Tomás retreated to the sitting area where the three young ladies and their escorts would be for the evening, when not dancing or mingling with the other guests. He left his hat on the chair after fluffing the feather. They looked at each other.
“I give you permission to leave if you need to take care of trouble,” Rigi said.
“Thank you, and I hope I don’t have to settle anything.” He sighed. “What a week.”
“I’m sorry if you got in trouble for not escorting Miss Leopoldi. I was going to ask Uncle Eb or Cy to step in, or Lt. Deleon.”
He blinked, black eyes going wide. “Uncle Ebenezer at a dance? I would give a year’s salary to see the reaction when he set foot on the floor. And to hear what Lexi would tell Aunt Kay afterwards.”
“Lexi’s version would be more entertaining than mine, I’m certain.”
“I wouldn’t go that far, Rigi.” He shook his head a little and tapped his gloves against the leg of his dress uniform trousers. “And I did not get in trouble. His Excellency thanked Col. Deleon for the kind gesture but said that custom now required a senior family member present young ladies to society, as is done on LimWorld.” He leaned close and said in a near whisper, “There was an incident last year at the court presentations.”
“Oh. Thank you for clarifying, Captain. That explains a great deal.” Mister Patel and Miss Deleon walked up to them, Col. Deleon not far behind.
“Miss Bernardi, it is good to see you under less trying circumstances,” Col. Deleon said, bowing as Tomás backed out of the way.
Rigi curtsied. “Likewise, sir.” She turned and curtsied a little to Miss Deleon, who looked from her father to Rigi and back, slightly confused. Mr. Patel seemed to be weighing and considering Rigi, then remembered his manners and bowed. Well, he did come from a very different culture, Rigi reminded herself.
“You know Miss Bernardi, Father?”
“She is the artist who works with Dr. Xian on the xenoarchaeology texts. Miss Bernardi also accompanied the mapping group to the Indria Plateau.”
“Oh.” Anything else Miss Deleon might have said disappeared in a flurry of skirt dusting and shifting position as a beautiful young woman with long, shining blue-black hair and sparkling black eyes walked toward them. Her crimson dress made Rigi sigh with envy, although she wasn’t certain about the neckline. It seemed a touch low for a young woman just coming into society. But she had been presented in the queen’s court on Home, so this was different, Rigi scolded herself. And the cut and color flattered Miss Leopoldi without being immodest. Her uncle wore black and white, with the green, white, and blue sash of office. The men bowed, and Rigi and Miss Deleon curtsied to His Majesty’s presence on Shikhari.
“Col. Deleon, Mister Patel,” the governor acknowledged. “And this is Captain Prananda?”
“Sir, yes, sir.”
Col. Deleon gestured. “Allow me to introduce my daughter, Millisandra.” She curtsied again and this time Rigi saw the flash of white material beneath her green overskirt. Was it deliberate? If so it was quite daring. Only those on the official Royal Favor list wore white to social events.
“A most graceful young lady indeed,” the governor raised her.
“Thank you, Your Excellency. She takes after her mother.”
They heard musicians tuning, and before Rigi could be introduced, Mrs. Brown and two other hostess-matrons came to them, curtsying. “Your Excellency, it is truly an honor,” Mrs. Brown began. Rigi tuned out the rest of the words, instead looking at the people milling around the large hall. The men seemed to be a mix of half military, half civilian, which she expected since it was Col. Deleon’s daughter, and the governor’s niece, who were being presented. Cy seemed quite happy with Miss Sorenson, and Mrs. deStella-Bernardi appeared deep in conversation with Mrs. Sorenson already.
“Jumping Jehoshaphat, by the greater Magellanic Cloud, look behind the large plant,” Tomás said into Rigi’s ear. Which plant? Rigi saw a familiar pair of ears. She opened her fan, using it to cover her surprise as she caught a glimpse of Uncle Eb, Aunt Kay, and Lexi. “What did Aunt Kay put in his tea to get him here?”
“He had a crate of books delivered freight due, and forgot their anniversary,” Rigi hissed back.
“No wonder he wasn’t answering comms.” She heard laughter in Tomás’s voice and felt a giggle rising to match it. She struggled to keep a properly polite and sober expression on her face.
The instrumentalists went quiet, and Rigi took that as the signal. So did the others, and Mr. Patel bowed to Miss Deleon as her father went to stand with the others. Tomás gave Rigi his hand and they followed the other couple, staying out of sight as much as possible. Mr. Brown cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome. It is my honor and privilege tonight to introduce three young ladies to this honored company. Miss Millisandra Deleon, daughter of Colonel and Mrs. Deleon, escorted by Mr. Sanjay Patel.” Miss Deleon seemed to float down the three steps to the floor, one hand resting on Mr. Patel’s hand. She curtsied low to the watchers, then rose and stepped to the side. Rigi gulped and hoped that she wouldn’t trip or make Tomás look bad. Please may I not trip, please, Creator and Creatrix may I not trip. “Miss Auriga Bernardi, daughter of Mister and Mrs. Timothy Bernardi and Acherna deStella-Bernardi, escorted by Captain Tomás Prananda, Order of Polaris Second Class.” Tomás had royal honors? Rigi forgot to trip, instead concentrating on moving so that she wouldn’t get in Tomás’s way, then curtsying without falling over. They moved sideways, opposite Miss Deleon and Mr. Patel, bowed and curtsied to the other couple who did likewise, and left the floor.
“Miss Katarina Leopoldi, daughter of Mister Antonio Leopoldi, escorted by His Excellency Domingo Leopoldi.” Miss Leopoldi also floated down the steps and curtsied gracefully, then turned and her uncle placed one hand on the small of her back. The first notes of a waltz began, and they danced alone. Rigi watched and admired their sense of the music. She still had to count under her breath and recite the steps. If she didn’t have to use her feet, dancing was easy. Alas, only in the Temple could she dance while standing still. Rigi snuck a glance and saw Tomás watching with open admiration. If he had royal honors, then he had a good chance of marrying Miss Leopoldi, Rigi knew. They’d make a lovely pair, and it would do wonders for his career.
The dance ended and everyone clapped. Rigi and Miss Deleon and their escorts joined the governor and Miss Leopoldi on the floor for “Flowers in Winter.” It had some timing changes that required Rigi’s full attention, and she breathed a silent, grateful sigh when the last chords shivered into silence. More applause, and Rigi and Tomás circulated among the guests while other couples took the floor. She and Tomás worked half-way around the room before they found Aunt Kay and Uncle Eb with Lexi. Lexi bowed and Rigi and Tomás both hand-bowed in return. “Miss Auriga, allow me to present the thanks of the Elders’ Council for your careful work,” Lexi said in formal Common. “You have done a great service, as well as honoring the Staré in this way,” he gestured to her dress. “We thank you.” He shifted to Staré, “Now I’m going to the flitter and sleeping until this is over.”
Rigi held in her giggles, but only by hiding behind her fan until he departed. Uncle Eb acted as if he wanted to follow. Aunt Kay, one hand locked on his wrist, had other plans. “No, Ebenezer Solomon, we are at a dance and we are going to dance if it kills you. Which I remind you, it will not.” Rigi caught an unspoken “but I might,” and hid more giggles behind her fan. Tomás seemed to have a need to cough and turned away. If Uncle Eb’s ears could have drooped, they would have. “Congratulations, Rigi, and welc
ome to being an adult,” Aunt Kay said as she hugged her. “Although you’ve been a grown-up for several years already.”
“She is more grown-up than half the so-called adults of my acquaintance,” Uncle Eb grumbled. Louder he said, “Congratulations, Miss Auriga. You look lovely. That color is quite becoming. Did you select it?”
Rigi looked down. “Ah, no, sir. The Staré who made the dress did. I gave them a list of what not to use, and trusted their experience and taste.”
“Interesting,” Tomás and Uncle Eb chorused, then ducked.
“That is Staré made? I had no idea,” a woman’s heavily accented voice said from behind Rigi. She turned to see a woman in a loose, almost billowing striped dress and striped headdress watching her. “Did you teach them how? I wasn’t aware that was an indigenous skill.”
Tomás tightened his grip on her elbow. Rigi acted gracious. “No, ma’am, I did not teach them. Staré needlework and weaving are old traditions that predate the first contact. The Staré wear fewer garments than humans do, but they dress.”
“How novel.” She billowed away, leaving Rigi wondering what the stranger had heard about Staré.
“That is Dr. Lisi Szabor, one of the Crown’s xenology specialists and interspecies intermediaries,” Uncle Eb said. A coldness in his voice made Rigi shiver a little, glad for Tomás’s hand on her arm. “My dear, I fear you must excuse me.”
“Go,” Aunt Kay said, her mouth a tight line.
“Is there a problem?” Tomás asked after Uncle Eb disappeared behind a plant.
Their aunt sighed and rubbed her forehead. “There wouldn’t be if Dr. Szabor could be trusted to avoid starting an argument with Ebenezer. She can’t resist. He won’t leave a fight unfinished. She won’t stay long, so I’ll go fish him out from under the seat once she departs.”
“I’m sorry,” Rigi began.
“Pish tosh and leaper fur, Miss Auriga. This is nothing to do with you.” Aunt Kay smiled. “Shoo, go have fun and mingle and eat too many of the nice things on that second tray from the end. And take Tomás with you, before he faints from hunger.”
Tomás did his best to look briefly pathetic and starving before sobering once again. “If you and Aunt Kay make me giggle, Mother will have all of our hides,” Rigi warned. “Proper young ladies do not giggle.”
“Nor do they explore ruins, catalogue archaeological finds, and hunt, I fear I must most reluctantly remind you, Miss Auriga." Tomás paused, then amended, "Unless they are neoTraditionalist, of course.”
“Of course,” she hid the smile behind her fan. Most of the adults seemed more interested in lining up to speak with Miss Deleon and Miss Leopoldi, giving Rigi a welcome respite. She and Tomás selected what they wanted from the hot food line, then went and sat. A waiter brought their plates, along with a small table and sparkling fruit juice. “Or would you care for wine?”
Rigi considered the offer. “Not just now, thank you.” She’d had wine before, but only saw bottles of crimson and cobalt, neither of which were permitted by her family. Crimson for the color, and cobalt vintages had far more alcohol in them than true wines. Fruit juice served just as well, and she’d seen what a few sips too many of wine could do. “Aunt Kay was right about these,” she gestured with her fork at the spiced poultry balls in ginter.
“Indeed she was. I’d almost suspect Shona’s forefoot in the making, except I’m told he guards his recipes better than the crown guards state secrets.”
“At least as well, given what little I know of Crown matters.” The three-cornered pastries had something green, leafy, and bitter in them that she did not care for, but the little fruit bites tasted luscious. Rigi wondered if she should ask for more. No, not until everyone else had eaten. she sipped her juice and watched the dancers and other young ladies. Miss Deleon stormed up to the seats and flounced into her chair, glaring out at the room. Oh dear.
Mr. Patel joined her, followed by food and drink. That seemed to help. Rigi looked out again and saw a knot of men in a corner, and someone gesticulating wildly. She leaned to the side and whispered, “Capt. Prananda?”
“I see it. If you will pardon me,” he kept his glass as he descended two steps and threaded his way down the side of the room toward the commotion. Rigi sighed a little and returned to people watching.
A not-bad looking lieutenant approached her and bowed. “Miss Bernardi.”
“Lt. Deleon.”
“Might I have the favor of a dance?”
Rigi stood and extended her hand. “Certainly sir.” It was a dance-march, steady and dignified, one that she knew and could do fairly well. It flowed into a brief double-pair dance. As the last bar began and Rigi reached a count of six, preparing to switch hands and reverse direction—
“Ow!" A man protested, "That was uncalled for.”
“Then I suggest you recall with whom you are dancing, and refrain from making inappropriate comments.” Rigi caught sight of Miss Leopoldi snarling at one of the Company men, a stocky gentleman with grey in his hair. As the dance finished, Rigi and Lt. Deleon retreated to where she’d been sitting. He bowed her back into her seat and disappeared, probably to hide from his sister, who looked as if she wanted to slap Miss Leopoldi, or someone else.
Miss DeLeon hissed, “I fail to understand why she had to be presented here, since she was presented at court and is already betrothed.”
Mr. Patel answered. “Because the betrothal is conditional, based on the young man’s obtaining his inheritance, and her father and uncle believe that she needs to have a more likely option in mind... or so I am told.” He sounded tired. “I am coming to believe that the traditions on my home-world are far more sensible in that regard.”
For her part Rigi was aghast that Miss Leopoldi would be courting under false pretenses. That seemed grossly unfair on the part of her father and uncle, to allow young men to court her when she was already betrothed. Rigi sat back and felt the beginnings of a headache attempting to irritate her. She fanned.
“More juice, Miss Bernardi?” a Staré waiter offered.
“Thank you, you are most observant.” Rigi took a glass as the fourth Stamm male removed the empty one, backed, turned, and departed far more smoothly than Rigi moved. She drank and felt better.
“Miss Bernardi, might I have the honor of a dance, since your escort is currently occupied?”
She smiled up at Mr. Patel, and saw Miss Deleon on the arm of a major. “Most certainly, sir.” The quadrille permitted less physical contact than some dances, something she’d noticed Mr. Patel preferred. Tomás returned after the dance and claimed her for a waltz. “Disaster averted?”
“More or less, and try not to stare at Uncle Eb, please.” He winked. Rigi kept her eyes on him, admiring the way the colors of the trim and awards on his uniform worked with the basic white of the tunic and trousers. White didn’t flatter his coloring, but he wore it better than many. Even so, out of the corner of her eye she noticed Uncle Eb and Aunt Kay turning and flowing with the music. They danced very well, far better than Rigi did. Well, they’d had a while longer to practice, and that made a great deal of difference. Rigi caught herself losing track of the beat and brought her attention to where it should have been. Tomás smelled nice, not confusing like the men who wore scents often did. Governor Leopoldi passed close beside them and Rigi caught an odd whiff. She bit her tongue with dismay. His perfume was //silly/frustrated/lemon/just-fed hopling//. Oh dear, should she say something? No, this was not the time or place, and it might be taken as an insult. In truth, it likely would be an insult.
By the end of the evening, Rigi felt both tired and satisfied, if a little hurt that His Excellency refused to acknowledge her. She had not expected him to dance with her, and if he had asked she would have politely declined because of his rank, but he acted as if she did not exist. He and Miss Leopoldi sat on the other side of Miss Deleon and Mr. Patel. Had he forgotten her? And what exactly had been said that led to Miss Leopoldi being rude? Well, she was not going to a
sk. Rigi and Tomás danced the last dance, after which he handed her to her father. Rigi opened her mouth to thank him when Miss Deleon gasped.
“Yes, I will marry you,” Rigi heard Miss Sorenson tell someone. The guests moved and she caught a glimpse of Cyril on one knee, kissing Miss Sorenson’s hand.
Miss Deleon flushed, then paled, voice trembling, “How dare he? This was my night!”
“It still is,” Rigi assured her. “He has yet to obtain permission from her father, and I’ve heard nothing but pleased comments about your dress and how well you danced, ma’am. This is your night indeed.”
Millisandra blinked. “Really?”
“Oh yes. You wear green very well, ma’am, and your gown flatters you greatly. Your parents must be very proud.”
“We are,” Col. Deleon said from the other side of his daughter. “And as all good things must come to an end, at least in this turn of the wheel, if you will excuse us . . .” He led his now happier daughter away.
“You need to apply for the Royal Diplomatic Corps,” Tomás murmured sotto voce from beside Rigi, then bowed and walked off to speak with Mr. Brown and some of the other men.
“Well done, Rigi,” her father confirmed. “Thank you,” he took the shawl from the hopling, shook it out, and draped it around her shoulders. “Your mother is in the garden taking the air. Shall we join her?”
“Yes, sir.”
Her mother kept quiet until they were safely in the flitter and on the way home. Miss Sorenson had gone home with her mother and a cousin. “I find His Excellency’s manners somewhat provincial.”
“Because he pretended that Auriga didn’t exist, Mother?” Cyril sounded angry. “Everyone commented on it.”
“Because of why. He told Col. Deleon that he does not acknowledge neoTraditionalists and other fringe superstitions. Mrs. Deleon heard him and informed me so that I would not ask him myself.”
Rigi caught herself clenching her fists and opened her hands. “I am sorry to hear that he feels that way.” She kept her tone mild. So long as he governed impartially, his dislike of the religious remained his problem. How different from Governor Theodaulf, married to a neoTraditionalist! She turned to Cyril. “Congratulations.”
Stamme: Shikari Book Three Page 10
