She hid her worry for him. Upon marrying Waxillium Ladrian, there was one thing she had vowed to herself: She wouldn’t stop fretting about him, but shewould notprevent him from being the person he wanted to be.
Each time he decided on an investigation, it terrified her. She did not let that control how she treated him. She wouldnotbe an obstacle. She loved him too much for that. Instead she did her best to be part of his world. It was far less frightening to be shot at than to sit at home wondering ifhewas being shot at.
It was to her eternal gratification that he, in turn, tried to be part of her world. Taking more interest in politics. Spending time with her doing the finances. They fit together, better than she’dever dreamed they would. And she still felt warm every time they touched.
“Let’s get some tea,” Wax said, climbing to his feet with her help, “and talk this over.”
18
Marasi settled into the couch, her ears ringing from the second explosion. Allik sat beside her, mask down—he tended to lower it when he chewed gum, as he was doing now. Chewing visibly was a cultural taboo for him. Odd. If there was one thing it should benormalto lift a mask for, it was eating.
Still, she wrapped her arm around his and let him rest his head on her shoulder. Rusts, it was nice to have him around full-time these days. The early years of their relationship had been sixteen different varieties of frustrating.
While they waited for VenDell to finish his report to Harmony, Wax talked about meeting the airship—and the new ambassador. She felt Allik grow tense at the description.
“This is Daal the Primary,” he explained to the rest of them. “He… is very well respected by the Hosts.”
“I could tell he was important politically,” Wax said.
“No, Wax,” Marasi said. “Respected by the Hosts means he was successful in war.”
“So his arrivalisa threat,” Steris said, nestled against Wax with her notebook out, shoes off, her stockinged feet up to the side in a posture that actually seemedrelaxed.
She’s changed so much,Marasi thought. She could remember a timewhen Steris wouldn’t have dared take her shoes off in company. She’dhave sat with perfect posture, trying to ensure she was holding her tea and saucer level.
Marasi had always loved her sister, even when resentment or forced distance had interfered, but she’dnever considered Sterispleasant.Not until these recent years. Part of that had been Steris changing, but another part had been realizing that she and Steris had always felt the same burdens—that sense of entrapment.
“I wouldn’t say it’s a threat, Steris,” Allik said. “Not specifically. But if it is true, and the Consortium has finally been achieved—the five nations agreeing to put a common face northward—then this is… a symbol? They send you their best. They want you to know it.”
“Their best,” Wax said, “and most stern, I assume? He is certainly more unyielding than his predecessor.”
“Yes, Adjective Waxillium,” Allik said, nodding. “They want you to know that they will not be bullied.”
“He said,” Wax told them, “that one of his goals was to bring the Bands of Mourning back to his people. Is that still a sore issue?”
“You have no idea,” Allik said. “Us agreeing to leave the Bands here, it’s like… like we left you with the body of our dead father, yah? A body that is also a powerful weapon. Nobody liked that decision.
“Sending him here, having him say he’ll get the Bands back… this is a symbol, yah? A statement? They have been too lax with your people, and wish to indicate this laxness will end.” He shifted in place, then lifted his mask. “Sorry.”
“You didn’t choose this, Allik.”
“No,” he said. “But I didn’tnotchoose it.”
“Dear, yes you did.” Marasi squeezed his arm. “You don’t have to take responsibility foreverything.”
He smiled at her, then put his mask down. Footsteps announced what she thought was VenDell returning, but then Wayne burst into the sitting room instead.
“Hey!” he said. “You all got blowed up, and you didn’twait for me?”
“Waxillium got blowed up,” Steris said. “The rest of us merely witnessed it. I think he did it on purpose to annoy you.”
“I’m rusting sure,” Wayne said, narrowing his eyes at Wax. “You okay, mate?”
“My ears are ringing,” Wax said, “and I’ve been reminded—quite profoundly—that I’mat leasttwo decades past prime exploding age. But I should be fine.”
“Glad you’re back, Wayne,” Marasi said, leaning forward. “Because we need to plan.”
“Yup, glad to be back,” he muttered. “Bein’ the fifth in a room is what every feller wants, yes indeed.” He stomped over to the small serving table and poured a cup of tea—then left the cup on the table and settled down in an easy chair with theentire teapot.“What?” he said to everyone’s stares. “It’s almost gone, an’ I like the spigot part. Fun to drink outta.”