“I really don’t know,” Qilori said, feeling sudden tension in his winglets. Surely Thrawn wasn’t going to back out of the meeting now? The consequences of such a blatant snub might be catastrophic, and not just to Thrawn and the Chiss. “But he might. You never know what bits of knowledge military people have tucked away. You should at least take a moment and ask him.”

Thrawn considered, then gave a small shrug. “Oh, very well. If only because I can’t properly retire to my quarters until my…companion…returns.”

“Yes, that’s—I’m sure you’ll find the general interesting,” Qilori said. Companion…but hadn’t he called the female a hostage before?

But that didn’t make any sense. What kind of hostage traveled openly with her captor? For that matter, since when did the Chiss culture deal with hostages? “Come with me.”

Yiv was waiting silently as the Pathfinder and Chiss approached, a half smile on his face, an unblinking gaze in his eyes. “Your Benevolence, may I present Artistic Master Svorno of the Chiss Ascendancy. Master Svorno, General Yiv the Benevolent of the Nikardun Destiny.”

“General,” Thrawn said, inclining his head in greeting. “I understand that you’re a military man.”

“That’s right, Art Master,” Yiv said. “I understand that you aren’t.”

A hint of a smile touched Thrawn’s lips. “Indeed,” he said. “A shame. Military men are so seldom interested in art.” He half turned and pointed to a large decorated cloth hanging from the ceiling to near the floor. “That tapestry over there, for instance. I would wager you haven’t even noticed it.”

“Of course I have,” Yiv said. “It hangs between the hard-drinks table and the private entrance to the premier’s office suite.”

“Really,” Thrawn said, looking back at the tapestry and the unassuming door beside it. “How do you know that’s the premier’s private door?”

“Because I’ve been in his office, of course,” Yiv said. “He and I have had many long and interesting conversations together. Would you be so good as to fetch me a drink?”

Thrawn half turned in the other direction, where a waiter was just passing by, and deftly plucked one of the sculpted glasses from his tray. “And the premier invited you in by that door?” he asked.

“No, I’ve always been brought in through the public entrance on the other side,” Yiv said. “But I have a skill with architecture, and it was obvious where the door marking the private entrance exited here into the grand assembly chamber.”

“I suppose I can understand the premier wanting a quick escape from the tedium of these events.” Thrawn sniffed at the drink, then stepped forward and offered it to Yiv. “I trust this will be to your liking.”