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Ivan turned into the drive and headed towards the house at what, for him, was a glacial pace. He let the groundcar drift to a halt when he realized the place was lit up like a damn circus. Then he remembered why Lady Esme hadn’t been at the test run. Relatives. Conservative relatives.
He considered hightailing it but he didn’t think he actually could hightail it. Someone would be on duty. He drifted his way too distinctive vehicle into the shadows on the far side of the house. Maybe someone could hide it. No, he’d just lock it up and hope it was concealed enough.
He had some luck. Leskov was at the door and had seen his stealth parking. The major domo came down the shallow steps at a dignified clatter, effectively blocking him going up.
“Lord Ivan. Are you invited?”
He didn’t try to shake his head. “No. Had a fall. Shouldn’t drive. Need a cab. Don’t disturb your lady. Wait in my car.”
A firm, insistent hand under his elbow drew him up a couple of shallow steps and off to the side. It was much darker and there was a bench. He sat down willingly.
“You shouldn’t be here, my lord. There’s another arrival coming. Can you sit here quietly for a few minutes?”
“Gladly… Thanks, Leskov.”
He wasn’t sure who the commotion was about. He could probably guess if his head weren’t pounding and was glad he wasn’t going to get caught up in it. He also couldn’t tell how long he’d been sitting in the blessed dark when a hand touched his shoulder.
“Van, are you conscious?”
“Told him not to bother you.”
“Look at me.” He opened his eyes and looked up. He knew what she was checking for and was glad when she gave a sharp nod. “Sweet stars, you fool, you can not be here. The wolves will tear you to pieces. And me.”
“Sort of concussed here,” he reminded her. “Can walk and talk but not drive. Shove me in a cab and send me on my way… What? Es?
She touched his shoulder again. “Forgive me, Van, I’m going to kill two birds with one stone and maybe a whole lot later. Stay here.”
It was far easier than talking.
“Lord Ivan, can you come with me?”
It was Leskov again, not his mistress but he opened his eyes. There was something very cloak and dagger about the way the major domo walked him back to his car. He was going to protest about driving but Lady Esme was there with another woman.
“My niece needs a lift back to Sultana. She’ll drive you home.”
“Nobody drives my car. Nobody.” He thought he sounded pretty firm for somebody with a concussion.
“She’s nobody.”
He must be more concussed that he thought if that made sense. She took him by the arm and guided him to the passenger side. When he was in and buckled, she leaned in and kissed his cheek.
“I’m sorry, Van, whatever falls out, trust me, it’s a better alternative.”
He heard a brief angry exchange on the driver side, then somebody plopped into the driver seat and pulled the door closed, better than firmly.
“Don’t hurt my car.”
A breath was forcibly exhaled, then another, more calmly. “Shut up.”
That was his preference too. The engine purred and she gently pulled out onto the drive, using only the house lights until they were well on their way. She got them onto the road and brought the speed up to something far slower than he was used to. He managed to relax somewhat, letting his slitted eyes close. Another exhale and then, oh gods, an inhale. She was going to talk.
“Some of the relatives aren’t so bad but these are the worst. They were all over Auntie Es tonight about you two.”
“What does ‘us two’ mean?” he asked carefully.
“You really are concussed,” she commented with an amused snort.
He took a slow, deep breath and said, very quietly, “It would be a privilege if your lady aunt ever expresses an interest.
Mercifully she went quiet for several minutes so he could study the inside of his eyelids and pray for peace.
“They talk about you, you know. About what you did.”
Ivan didn’t open his eyes. “Innocent bystander. S’all the armsmen and ImpSec.”
She snorted again. “There are vids, you know. They’ve gotten out. Lots of talking since you came back.”
“Sticking to my story.”
“Count Vormoncrief says they should have put you in the Square.”
“Count Vormoncrief is a moron.”
“Count Vormoncrief is my grandfather.”
“Stop the car.”
“What?”
“Stop the car. Count Vonmoncrief’s granddaughter may not drive my car.”
“Too late,” she told him, not slowing down. “It’s not so bad, most of the time. My mother married out but she doesn’t mind me getting a little taste of the Vor. My da’s family is OK but Auntie Es is right to warn you. Someone will make a fuss about my leaving with you.”
“Nobody saw.”
“Someone always sees.”
Ivan groaned for so many reasons.
***
“Van, wake up.” He jerked and mumbled something even he couldn’t cohere. “What’s your address?”
He told her but the car stopped almost immediately after that. He opened his eyes. This didn’t look like his neighborhood. “What? Are we there?”
“No. This is the Urgent Care off the Square,” she told him, unbuckling his harness.
“I don’t- -”
“You’re going nowhere else,” she said flatly. “Even you know you’re concussed. Get out and let this nice attendant help you inside… Go on, Van. I’ll leave your car at your building.”
The door opened and he carefully levered himself upright, saying, “If anything happens to it, I’ll have you killed.”
“You can try. He’s got concussion,” she told the attendant. The man nodded as he closed the door.
The bastards kept him overnight and told him no alcohol, even when threatened with an Imperial Auditor.
And barely fifty-two hours later he had to deal with Byerly Vorrutyer.
The couple of days helped but Ivan wasn’t at all sure he was up to the chaos of moving and he was sure he wasn’t up to the chaos of By Vorrutyer helping. Fortunately, the movers were people his mother had recommended and they were efficient and careful and mercifully quiet. He left By to direct traffic at the penthouse while he did a walkthrough and final check on his apartment, gaining himself some peace and quiet and a short rest in his groundcar before he very carefully [he wasn’t really supposed to drive but no one was looking] drove it to its new home. He discovered a business card on the dash, wondered whose it was, then realized it might be from Lady Esme’s niece and slipped it in a pocket.
The movers had gotten everything into the right rooms, much of it downstairs in storage for the moment and looked gratified with the tip he gave them. Byerly had added some nice staging touches to the great room, some pillows and flowers. Apparently he’d listened to Van talking about his flower subscription. He was in the kitchen making coffee, so he’d listened about the concussion as well, but clearly intended to have a chat.
Ivan settled himself on one of the barstools at the kitchen’s hatch and said, long-sufferingly, “Go on, By.”
“Ivan, Ivan, Ivan, were you really spotted sneaking out of Lady Esme’s house on the night of the big Conservative caucus? And with her niece?”
“I don’t know?”
“Ivan, dearest heart, even you aren’t that dim.”
“I might have been?”
“Oh, this is going to be delicious.”
“OK, first, I was not in Lady Esme’s to sneak out of, on the night in question. And I would say leaving discreetly, not sneaking.”
“Even worse,” By said delightedly.
Ivan darkened the windows before he started on his coffee. He was s till a bit sensitive to the glare and this conversation was not helping. “ How many versions are there?”
“That’s the gist of them. Vormoncrief is foaming as usual. Apparently she’s his granddaughter.”
“The man lives to be the bane of my existence. Why couldn’t he have gone down with Vordrozda?”
“Will knowing the truth help counter the poison?”
“Probably not. Appreciate the offer.” Ivan sipped his coffee and sighed. “Complete innocent bystander, I swear. I was at the test meet for the VBS open. Up the road. Came off hard.”
By shuddered. He was not a horse person. Or a runner. Or anything. They only shared a tailor.
“Figured I was OK but when I started back, my vision was wonky. Figured I could leave the groundcar at her place. Get a cab. Didn’t remember until I came up the drive and saw the lights. Give me a minute, see if I can remember what the hell she said.” He closed his eyes, tilting his head back and forth a little, then said softly. “Killing two birds with one stone.”
“Obscure.”
“Somebody arrived while I waited, don’t know who, didn’t want to, but after a bit her major domo came back and helped me back to my groundcar. Es was waiting and told me I was giving her niece a lift back to town. Except she drove, snarked at me the whole way, and dropped me at that urgent care off the Square. Who kept me overnight.” Byerly could barely stand up he was laughing so hard. “She did return the groundcar intact so I don’t have to hunt her down.”
“Lady Esme?”
“The niece.”
Byerly shook his head. “Which niece?”
“Es didn’t introduce her but I think she left a card.” Ivan patted his pockets and finally drew out the card he’d found. “Zhenya Sokolova.”
Byerly closed his eyes and blew out a soft breath. “An idiot you may be, Ivan, and you are certainly looked after by angels. ”
“Not getting it.”
“I don’t know why they’d want her there. I didn’t know she had been there. Best let this tempest rage in its teacup and settle.”
“So I probably shouldn’t, like, invite her to dinner as a thank you?”
“You said she snarked you the whole way back.”
“It was really good snark… By, I’m sitting here talking to you. Some actual conversation would not be sneered at.”
Vorrutyer considered him through long-lashed eyes, which were not flirting at him for a change. “Send her a thank you note,” he said finally, brandishing the card, “but save dinner for after your recovery, maybe long after .”
“And how long is my recovery going to take?”
“A couple of weeks?”
Ivan sighed. “Yeah, that’s what the doctor said. No alcohol, no riding, avoid driving, no running.”
By snorted delicately, since they only shared a tailor, and sipped his coffee. Ivan ignored him and sipped his own. After a moment or two, By put on a bright face. “Maybe you could invite her to your housewarming!”
Considering who might attend said housewarming, Ivan rather thought not. “Who is she, By?”
“Kolya Sokolov’s daughter. Professor Nikolai Sokolov.”
Nikolai Sokolov. Professor of political science Nikolai Sokolov . Leading exponent of ending the Empire, self-government, democracy, etc. Somebody an ex-Emperor and possible spy really ought to stay away from. Someone he might actually want to meet and definitely shouldn’t.
“So?” he asked watching the weasel-brain twist and turn.
“So, recuperate, unpack, read some philosophy, study your family history.” By held up a hand. “Believe me, you don’t want to know. Best you’re fuzzy on the whole thing.”
“I am fuzzy on the whole thing.”
By smiled at him. “Ivan, I adore you.”
Back to flirting.
***
Ivan almost didn’t take the call and said firmly, “ By, I’ve just had Mamére. Leave me alone.”
“She called?”
“Worse, she visited. This headache is not going away.”
“Not any time soon,” he agreed.
“What does that mean?”
“She didn’t drop any choice little tidbits in your ear?”
“Not that sort, well, maybe? She said she came to see the new place but she was unusually solicitous when she realized I actually am concussed and suffering. Said it was possibly best if I stay in and recover. The Trust can go on without me for a bit. So, give.”
“Vormoncrief is still ranting about people like you being allowed around members of his family, especially the ones that aren’t already traitors. Rousing the indignation of right-thinking people about the course of empire.”
“And he’s having some luck sacrificing his granddaughter?”
“He’s going hard at Lady Esme at this point, as the source of this infestation, consorting with known traitors.”
“He’s used the word?” By gave him a ‘sort of’ wave. “Yeah, Mamére would not drop that. Lady Es is rather a point of contention.”
“You’re known to like older women.”
“Yes, By, the ones who can converse without sighting down a wedding ring. The ones who can talk about shared interests without expecting to share a monogram. And who ought to be able do it without being harassed by moronic old fossils who happen to be born counts. Somebody ought to take him up for slander.”
“His cronies don’t consider it slander, plus he’s a count.”
“My head aches.”
“Rest it up. Some day you might need it.”
Ivan shut off the call. He’d think about all this tomorrow. He didn’t have enough brain cells for a plan. If he couldn’t run, he’d take a walk and get some fresh air. He went looking for Van clothes.
***
Yes, Ivan had flubbed his re-entry into Vor society but he’d been good for months now. Whatever ground he’d gained, however, was washing away in the out-pouring of Conservative bile. The whole concussion thing hadn’t bought him much sympathy, according to By Vorrutyer. Too bad, that at least had been real. Still, he had a few good cards in his hand (flowchart). He just had to play them to best advantage.
Ivan smoothed down his tunic before sauntering into the Residence reception hall. It carried his new look somewhat further than usual but it fit superbly and he knew he looked good. He was pretty good at dealing with askance but there was certainly an abundance of it around as the attendees began to get a look at him. He made his best [flamboyant] bow to the Emperor and Empress and began to mingle. Noticeable. Exquisite as any town clown.
He didn’t know how ImpSec matched the water to the color and density of wine, it was a sacrilege anyway, but they kept him visibly drinking as he wandering amiably about talking to actual friends and acquaintances, catching up on a couple of week’s worth of gossip, receiving veiled warnings and insults, and avoiding direct encounters with the enemy. He’d worked on the mildly amused, mildly disdainful smile he gave Vormoncrief when their gazes crossed. He didn’t let happen it too often but couldn’t avoid it completely, since the man seemed to be looking at him a lot. But then, many people were.
As promised, he danced with the Empress, whom he genuinely liked. They flirted mildly and he made her laugh a couple of times, which drew glares from several directions, although not from the Emperor. It was pretty mild stuff. He was after all, welcome here. The next time his gaze crossed Vormoncrief’s, he tipped his wineglass at him and checked the game plan. The buzz was increasing.
He only had two words with By, who murmured in passing, “ Percy Blakeney.”
His whole life had been practice. At least someone recognized it.
Then a tall, pretty brunette fronted up to him with a hostile mien.
“Well, it’s about time you appeared in public instead of letting ImpSec do your dirty work."
Ivan peered down at her. “That voice, I know that voice.” His eyes narrowed a little. “Ms. Sokolova? I think?”
Her eyes narrowed as well. “You don’t know?”
“I was actually concussed,” he explained, trying on a smile, not very successfully he thought, “as I explained in my note. And I was moving. When I came up for air and looked around I figured it might be better if I hid a bit. Let it pass.”
“That’s worked really well, hasn’t it?””
“No, but I think your aunt, as usual, was right. She got us out and we are merely gossip.”
That did not make her happy. “While my grandfather badgers her to a pulp and his moronic visions of restoring traditional values are not being considered as the possibly treasonous delusions they are?”
“Well, we might get lucky but more likely not. I suppose I ought to have a talk with ImpSec.”
“Did you hear what you just said? You should have a talk with ImpSec?”
He reviewed in his head. “I suppose I have a different relationship with ImpSec than most. If I had any brains, I would have asked them for a ride home.”
“Oh God, then you didn’t...” She looked very uncomfortable. “I thought you set them on me because I was stalking you.”
He looked very surprised. “Were you?”
Her nose wrinkled. “Only a little. I was sort of lurking in your neighborhood hoping to run into you, casually.”
“I moved.”
“I didn’t know that!”
He did his best but really, it was ridiculous, and he started laughing. He was pretty sure the evening was going to end in disaster but this at least he could enjoy. Then, reluctantly, she began to laugh too.
“We should start over.”
“Lord Ivan- -”
“No, we’ve both got ImpSec going on here but we don’t have the same ImpSec going on and it’s not my fault.” Her laughter faded immediately. “Yeah, the thinking thing is a pain.”
“I have to stand by my aunt.”
“You absolutely have to stand by your aunt. Some other incarnation, perhaps?”
She scowled at him. “Fuck that, I already know you can write.”
He swept her a deep courtly bow. “An honor and a privilege, mademoiselle. Thank you for driving me home and not wrecking my car. I can think of better things than having to kill you.”
She stalked off in a swirl of skirts and ribbons but most recognized it as a successful flirtation. He managed to keep his amiable doofus expression in place, instead of laughing again, and let the prospect of the rest of the evening sober his insides. Next item on the flow chart.
Except his cousin cut across his course. “You’re having fun,” Miles accused him. “Why are you having fun?”
“Because I had to give up alcohol for two weeks and Gregor’s letting me have the actual good stuff? And I got to dance with the Empress?”
“Do you really think you’re going to be able to slide under the radar with a charm offensive? You’re lucky he isn’t wearing swords.”
“Only on the Emperor’s birthday… Ekaterin’s looking this way.”
OK, that was underhanded but he couldn’t afford what the little motormouth might stream of consciousness. Ivan slipped away as Miles homed in on his wife. It was time for less subtlety, if that was possible. Escalation.
He chatted up some more of his numerous ‘acquaintances’, the ones who were looking hopefully at being hangers-on, sycophants, girlfriends, and brides now that the rumors about the Trust and his father’s legacy were beginning to circulate. They would accumulate the supposedly tipsy ego-speaks, digs and innuendos and pass them on. It didn’t take long for the buzz to pick further. Time to sting.
His found his [hopefully] trump card among the equestrian crowd, discussing the upcoming test match with another of his riding acquaintances [rivals]. Shipley, being completely non-political, gave him a civil enough bow as he insinuated himself into the conversation. He returned it and gave Lady Esme a deeper bow and kissed her hand. He tucked the hand onto his arm and got a slightly raised eyebrow.
“So, there’s a rumor you won’t be riding the match, with the concussion and all,” Shipley opened. [Maybe not so unpolitical.]
“Planning to,” he countered. “Bebry’s keeping the horses in trim. The doctor’s signed off on riding but have to see how much condition I’ve lost.”
“Two weeks. Makes a difference.” [Might just be snark.]
“Going out tomorrow for some light exercise. Speaking of which, Lady Esme, may I have the honor of a dance?” She nodded. “Best of luck, Shipley.”
“You as well.” [Neither sincere.]
Once they were out on the floor, Lady Esme gave him a searching look. “Van, do you have any idea what you’re doing? The last two weeks--”
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I was pretty out of it for a while but yes, a few brain cells kicked in eventually… Look, I had to leave the planet the last time I poked my head up. I’d rather not have to do it again.”
“So you’ve thought this through?”
He nodded.
“I’m in.”
“Es, you are a brave and clever woman. I owe you this.”
The next bit was nice. In addition to being an excellent horsewoman, Lady Esme was an excellent dancer. She was easily up to challenge of a mazurka with conversation. He finally had a glass of the real wine and a nibble or two. There was another dance or two while he hung noticeably close. He flirted outrageously, leaning in to murmur things in her ear [mostly questions about the status of the test match.] She laughed and shot him veiled answers, plus a couple of scurrilous pieces of gossip he hadn’t heard.
“Van.”
“S’okay, my face won’t crack from smiling.”
“Incoming.”
Ah. He slid an arm around her waist and dropped a scandal-worthy kiss on her neck, saying a little loudly. “We should head home soon, sweet lady. The doctor has given me permission to drive… and ride.”
The hiss beyond him told him the innuendo was not lost on his quarry.
“Esme, as your count I have forbidden you to have anything to do with this… this person.”
“He isn’t really your count, is he?” Ivan asked in amused disbelief. “Surely you can do better. That’s just wrong.”
“You’re just wrong, Patril.” He spat the name with heavy sarcasm. “Decent minded people shouldn’t have to put up with the likes of you.”
“Innocent bystander.”
“There's nothing innocent about you! You danced and seduced your way into half the beds in Vorbarr Sultana before you were thirty. You let them declare you emperor and then weaseled yourself a pardon to go off-world until the dust cleared and others took the fall. Now you think you can buy your way back into the Vor with your so-called charity and your useless father’s money. You’ve duped the riding circuit to let you in, seducing my cousin and trying to seduce my granddaughter at the same time. Next we’ll hear you’ve taken up with her maniac father.”
Ivan stood, face expressionless, until the count’s invective ran down. He patted Lady Esme’s hand in a comforting way and considered Count Vormoncrief for a moment with one raised eyebrow. Somehow this enraged him further.
“Well, have you nothing to say for yourself, you despicable clown?”
“The Emperor has forbidden dueling,” he said finally, “so I can’t kill you out of hand.”
“How dare you!?” [As if he hadn’t already gone well beyond insulting himself.]
Ivan overrode him, saying, “I can tell you that you are a stupid and malicious old man who will tell any lie in support of your ridiculous self-serving ideas of Vor traditions. So a bully and a moron.”
“You can’t say such things to me! I’m a count, you traitorous bastard!”
The two words hung in the air for a moment while Ivan seemed to grow quite a bit larger. “Ivan Xav Patril. Not a bastard,” he said with quiet emphasis and rolled on, “I am the grandson of a princess and the great grandson of Prince Xav. Our Emperor says I am not a traitor. His armsmen say I’m not a traitor and they have much higher standards than you do. Even ImpSec says I’m not a traitor and they’d take either of us out if they thought we were. So, not a traitor and even a count can be reprimanded for making false accusations against the royal family which you have just made in front of the people I just mentioned. Oh, and there are a couple of Auditors here as well. You might want to have a bit of a think about consequences.”
Before Vormoncrief could speak, a cold, serious voice behind Ivan said, “We think that’s a very good idea. Count Vormoncrief, you are dismissed from this Assembly.”
The man swelled and gobbled a couple of times, looking around for support. No one was looking back. Abruptly, he deflated. With a curt ‘sire’ and a more curt bow, he turned and stomped towards the door, pushing past anyone who didn’t get out of his way.
In a much warmer tone, Gregor said, “Thank you for not losing your temper, Ivan.”
Ivan’s bow was graceful and sincerely respectful. “At your command, Sire. Sorry for the fuss.”
His other cousin muttered something.
Ivan’s eyes crinkled and he shivered a wink at his emperor, who shivered one back. He then looked sideways and down a little, taking in the hand still on his arm. “Lady Esme, may I have another dance?”
“Something less dramatic?” she responded acerbically.
“I sincerely hope so.”
He gave another small bow to Gregor and received a nod, releasing them. “I’m sure the Empress would appreciate one as well, cousin.”
It took his other cousin a while to corner him. Ivan had tried his best but Miles had the determination of a honey badger. So he got himself two glasses of the good red wine and leaned against a wall. Miles came in like a homing missile, only thrown a little off-stride by the proffered glass of wine.
“What were you thinking?”
Ivan sipped the wine and contemplated the room. “I don’t care about what most of them think,” he said mildly, “that’s on them, but I deeply resent the kind of thinking that denies me the right to family and friends. I was going to have to do this in the end and I couldn’t think of a nicer moron for the job.”
That got a short laugh out of Miles.
“He’s been making Lady Esme’s life a hell for months and lately for his granddaughter and half the rest of his family. The bastard’s been preying on the weak for the last fifty odd years and he looked to be rumbling up enough bad feeling to cause actual trouble.”
“So you baited him into publicly accusing you of treason?”
“I live to serve.”
“You live to serve notice.”
“Think how much he’s going to love it when I start dating his granddaughter. May he stroke out.”
“Are you going to start dating his granddaughter?”
Ivan shrugged. “I can’t date her father.”
There was a moment of awed silence. “Have you told Gregor?”
“Miles, you do not blind side the Emperor.”
“Only everybody else.”
An armswoman brought him another glass of wine. Ivan smiled contentedly. Not such a bad evening after all.