They found none. The green-uniformed men on either side of the doorway stood rigidly to attention, gazes fixed straight ahead, as the ground car slid to a halt. The counter-grav ground effect died, and gravel crunched as the car settled. Then the front passenger door opened, and an athletic major in maroon and gold, with the braided aigulette of Palace Security hanging from his right shoulder, climbed out it.

The Mayhew armsman stood scanning his surroundings while he listened to reports over his earbug. Grav sleds swept through the portal and grounded, and a dozen more men in the same colors joined the major to form an alert, open ring about the car. Then he nodded, and a sergeant opened a rear door and snapped to the salute as Benjamin IX stepped out of it past him.

The Protector waved as Allison, Alfred, and Clinkscales came down the steps to greet him, then turned and handed Katherine Mayhew, his senior wife, from the car. Allison and Katherine had met briefly on several occasions during the days before Honor’s funeral, but the demands of protocol and solemnity had kept them from truly getting to know one another. Nonetheless, Allison had sensed a kindred spirit in Katherine, even through the unrelenting formality of those dreary days, and this was one case in which it probably helped that she hadn’t been born to an aristocratic tradition. She understood how such traditions worked, and she’d come to respect them—mostly—but they weren’t really a part of her cultural baggage. That left her less impressed with Katherine Mayhew’s rank than she might have been, and she looked forward to becoming better acquainted with the other woman despite her exalted position, for she suspected they were too much alike not to become friends. They were also very much of a size—which was to say “tiny”—and the First Lady of Grayson held out her hand with a smile as Allison swept down on her.

“Good afternoon, Madam Mayhew,” Allison said formally, and Katherine shook her head.

“I would really prefer ‘Katherine,’ or even ‘Cat,’ ” she said. “ ’Madam Mayhew’ sounds much too formal coming from a Harrington.”

“I see… Katherine,” Allison murmured, and Katherine squeezed her hand and turned to greet Alfred as Benjamin assisted his second wife, Elaine, from the car. Elaine was the shy one, Allison remembered, although the Protector’s junior wife seemed to have gained considerably in composure compared to the almost timid person Honor had described from their first meeting, and Allison greeted her warmly.

“Thank you for inviting us,” Elaine replied, smiling as she watched Alfred bend over Katherine’s hand as gallantly as any Grayson might have. “It’s not often we get out for anything except formal occasions.”

“This isn’t formal?” Allison demanded, flicking her free hand at all the punctilious military courtesy and firepower conspicuously displayed about them.

“Oh, goodness no!” Elaine laughed. “With the entire family—except for Michael, of course—all out in the open in one place? This is the lightest security I’ve seen in, oh, ages!”