Maud swirled her wine in her glass and smiled. “Nobody has ever met a Mukama.”

“No,” Nuan Cee admitted.

“But here we are, enjoying the fresh air of their home world.”

Nuan Cee startled.

“House Krahr was one of the original greater houses,” Maud told him. “They were entrusted with the planet of Daesyn to make sure no Mukama ever breathed its air again.”

She set her empty glass on the table. A little lees ran up and refilled it.

“When we started this story, I told you that a stable society is resistant to change. The Holy Anocracy is stable, Honorable Nuan Cee. They won. Why would they change? Their way of life has worked for them for thousands of years. They never stopped building castles or wearing armor; they just make them stronger. They never abandoned their faith, because it sustained them in their darkest hour. They cherish their children, they guard them like their greatest treasure, and they teach them to fight from a young age, because history taught them that children are both precious and vulnerable. Without children, the Holy Anocracy has no future. Above all, the vampires distrust outsiders. Nothing good ever came to them from beyond the stars. You are an outsider fighting against thousands of years of inertia. A single strange bird flying at a massive flock, trying to change its direction. The kind of change you are seeking can only come from within, from someone deeply respected, someone rooted in their society. Neither you nor I have that kind of clout. But I will speak to Arland the next time I see him. If I see him.”

“Oh, you will see him,” Nuan Cee said. “He is coming down the hallway now.”

Maud took a deep breath.

A moment later, Arland loomed in the doorway, carrying a large gray case. He saw her. “My lady.”

Helen waved at Arland. He took a step into the room, but the lees swarmed him, pushing him out into the hallway.

“You left her alone!”

“People were mean to her.”

“She was sad!”

Maud glanced at Nuan Cee. He smiled at her.

Arland looked at her above the lees, a pained look on his face, and raised his arms in mock surrender.

“I suppose I should find out where he was.” She sighed.

“Come see me anytime, Matilda,” Nuan Cee said.

She hadn’t heard her real name in years. Only her parents called her that and only in rare moments.

“I will,” she promised and meant it.

Maud stepped through the doorway into the hallway. Behind her the door slid shut, cutting off the lees and their outraged cries.

Arland glanced at Helen. His eyes darkened. “Who?”

“It was a formal challenge,” Maud said.

“I’m getting ripper cushions,” Helen told him.

Arland turned to Maud.

“Lady Helen challenged someone in the nursery, was warned not to fight, and did it anyway. Now there will be repercussions.”

“Did you win?” Arland asked.

Helen nodded.

“All is well then. If you go through life never doing anything deserving any repercussions, you’ll never know victory.”

Helen grinned.

“That is some fine parenting, Lord Marshal.” Maud loaded enough sarcasm into her tone to sink a space cruiser.

“I try,” Arland said.

The three of them looked at each other. Awkward.

“May I walk you to your quarters?” he asked.

“You may.” It was that or continue standing in the hallway.

They walked through the keep to the covered bridge, Helen running back and forth, sometimes in front, sometimes behind. The storm still raged and green lightning flashed overhead, ripping through the dark sky.

“I’m sorry,” Arland said.

“For what, my lord?”

“For not being there during dinner. It wasn’t my intention.”

“I don’t need your protection or assistance, my lord. I’m not a prisoner. I’m here because I choose to be here. If I felt I couldn’t hack it on my own, I would’ve left already.”

They crossed the bridge into the tower and stopped at the end of the chamber where the two hallways branched off, one leading to her quarters, the other to his.

“I know that you don’t require my protection, my lady. If I thought you did, I wouldn’t have extended the invitation. I’m not looking for a maiden to save. I’m looking for a partner.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

He ignored her and kept going. “However, it was my intention to escort you to dinner and to spend the meal with you. I regret that my duties detained me and that I was unable to make you feel welcome in the feast hall of my home. Please accept my deepest apologies, my lady.”

If they got any more painfully polite, they would draw blood simply by speaking.

“No apologies necessary, my lord. It was time well spent. I was fortunate enough to experience the hospitality of House Krahr first-hand.”

He waited.

“Nothing to add, Lord Marshal?”

“A wise man knows when to shut up,” he said. “I have a mother and a female cousin. I know that tone of voice. Anything I say now will be wrong. I will humbly wait to be banished or forgiven.”

“Humbly?”

“Yes.”

“Why, my lord, I’m surprised you know the meaning of the word.”

He looked at her. She looked back. They crossed stares like swords.

“Are you going to fight?” Helen asked in a small voice.

Oh, for goodness’ sake…“What’s in the box?” Maud asked.

“Dinner,” he said. “I didn’t get to have one and from what I understand, neither did you. Join me?”

She considered stomping off to her room in all of her pissed off glory, but it would be childish. Also, she was starving.

“Yes,” Maud said.

Arland grinned at her. She nearly raised her hand to shield herself.

“Just a dinner,” she said.

“Just a dinner,” he said. “Also, I downloaded The Saga of Olasard, the Ripper of Souls, onto my viewer. It’s animated.”

It hit her. Helen had never seen a cartoon before. Then his words sank in deeper. “Umm, there is that one part in the catacombs…”

“Oh, no, they took that out. It’s made for children.”

“Oh good.”

The door to Arland’s quarters was identical to hers, heavy, reinforced, old. It slid open and he stood aside, inviting her in. She stepped through the doorway into a mirror image of her suite, complete with doors leading to the bathroom and balcony. Yet nobody would confuse the two spaces. Her chambers were devoid of personal touches, but this place clearly belonged to Arland.

A small alla tree grew in the corner, its branches heavy with white blossoms. It was in good health, so someone was watering it. A stack of actual paper books waited on the table by the massive bed. She saw a copy of a popular YA novel from Earth and bit her lip to keep from laughing. A variety of knickknacks lay here and there; a long, wicked dagger not of vampire make; a piece of misshapen metal; a small wooden figurine carved in painstaking detail, probably by Wing, one of the creatures staying in Dina’s inn. If she squinted just right, it sort of looked like her…

Arland swung his hand before a wall. It split open, exposing a linen closet. He grabbed some large floor pillows and tossed them on the rug. A fuzzy blanket followed.

“Viewer,” he ordered.

A screen slid from above, covering the opposite wall.

“Saga of Olasard.”

An animated vampire knight appeared on the screen, wearing elaborate armor, holding a bloody sword in one hand and a severed head in the other. He raised the sword and roared.

Helen’s eyes grew huge. “It’s like a book! But it’s moving.”

“Pause,” Arland said. “Helen, I gave you access. You can tell it to pause, rewind, and fast forward.”

She looked at the pillows and then back at the screen. “I need my teddy!”

“Let’s go get him,” Maud said. “We’ll be right back.”

A couple of minutes later Helen and her teddy were situated on the pillows. By the time they came back, Arland had opened the box he carried. Ribeye steak, with ribs still attached for the ease of holding. Half a dozen vampire side dishes, thinly sliced meat, roasted vegetables, little tiny pies…The smell alone made Maud’s mouth water.

Arland produced a stack of plates. Helen loaded hers up, crawled onto the pillows and started her movie.

Maud made her plate, propped a pillow against Arland’s bed, and sat on the floor. Arland sat next to her with his own dinner. Their arms almost touched.

Maud attacked the food. For the first five minutes nobody spoke. Finally, she ate enough to take the edge off the hunger.

“Where were you?” she asked quietly.

“Dealing with an idiot. One of Karat’s knights challenged her in direct violation of my orders.”

So that’s why Karat wasn’t at dinner. “How did it go?”

Arland shrugged. “He’ll walk again. Some day.”

She smiled at him.

“As Marshal, I had to deal with it. And by deal, I mean I had to watch that farce of a fight and then slap him with sanctions.”

“’A man who never does anything deserving repercussions will never taste victory,’” she said with a straight face.