“Sure you can. You’re the First Lord.” Max arched an eyebrow. “You must not hate it all that much. This tunic fit you at your confirmation, you know.”

Tavi grunted in discomfort. “It might taste terrible, but it’s apparently good for you. Plus I’m not wearing armor around every day, now.”

“And it shows,” Max said cheerfully. He got the collar fastened with one last, hard tug, then eyed Tavi carefully. “Why is your face turning red?”

Tavi idly slid an effort of will into the cloth of gold, metalcrafting its strands to stretch out a bit. Once the collar had loosened, he was able to exhale without making an effort. “There. How’s that?”

“Oh, ah,” Max said, looking him over judiciously. “You look like... a First Lord.”

“How descriptive. Thank you.”

“Anytime, Calderon,” Max said, grinning.

“Max,” Tavi said. “Have... have you heard from Crassus?”

Max’s grin faded. “He’s... not coming. Officially, he’s helping his father and mother get the situation in Antillus under control. But he’s still upset about... well. Everything.”

Tavi nodded, frowning. “I’m glad Antillus took Dorotea back.”

Max grunted sourly. Then said, “She’s gotten almost human over the past couple of years. I suppose she might do some good up there.”

“Certainly, Crassus is in good hands, as far as healing is concerned. I... I wish I knew what to do to make it right.”

“Stop thinking you can fix everything,” Max said bluntly. “Give it time. That might help. Or not. But you’ll only make things worse if you push.”

Tavi nodded. “Thanks.”

“Always happy to explain the obvious to you, Calderon. Now if you’ll excuse me? Nothing makes a girl want to be seduced more than a wedding. I’ve got plans. I’ll see you at the ceremony.”

“Veradis is here, isn’t she?” Tavi asked. “Do you honestly think she’s going to change her mind about you because of the social environment?”

Max grinned. “No telling until I try, is there?” He paused by the door, and said, more seriously, “I’ve been looking in on her, since her father died. Making sure no one’s been giving her a hard time, or anything. I might have spoken a few words into the ears of some of Cereus’s clients who were not, shall we say, appreciative of the sacrifice he made.”

Tavi smiled at his friend and inclined his head to him, not saying anything. Back in the Academy, he’d listened to Max describe beating the owners of crooked gambling houses in the same terms.

“You look fine, Calderon,” Max said.

“Thanks.”

Max saluted, giving the gesture more formal precision and grace than he usually did. He winked and departed.