"The day before the betrothal. We'll leave together shortly afterwards. We'll return for the wedding at Midsummer, of course. I'd love to stay longer, but we really both need to get back to Chaos Colony. The shorter his stay in Vorbarr Sultana, the less likely he'll be to get nailed for new jobs by old political comrades. That's one advantage of Sergyar; they have a harder time getting at him there. One still turns up about every month, full of ideas for things Aral can do in his non-existent spare time, and we have to wine and dine him and shove him gently back out the door." She smiled invitingly across the table at him. "You really should come and visit us there soon. It's perfectly safe. We have an effective treatment for those revolting worms now, you know, much better than the old surgical removal. There's so much to see and do. Especially do."

There was something universal, Miles reflected, about the sinister light in the eye of a mother with a long list of chores in her hand. "We'll see. I expect to have my part of this Auditor's investigation wrapped up for Gregor in a few more days. After that . . . I'm not quite sure what I'm going to do with myself."

A short silence fell, while everybody applied themselves appreciatively to the dessert course. At length Illyan cleared his throat, and announced to the Countess, "I signed the lease on my new flat today, Cordelia. It will be ready for occupancy tomorrow."

"Oh, splendid."

"I want to thank you both, especially you, Miles, for your hospitality. And your help."

"What flat?" asked Miles. "I'm afraid I've been living inside my comconsole this week."

"Quite right. Lady Alys helped me find it."

"Is it in her building?" And a very exclusive venue that was, too. Could Illyan afford it? A vice-admiral's half-pay was merely decent, though, come to think of it, he had to have amassed considerable savings by now, given the enforced simplicity of his work-devoured former life.

"I feel I am less of a menace to my neighbors than I used to be, but just in case some old enemy has bad aim . . . it's a couple of streets away from her. It might not be a bad idea to float a few rumors that I am more mentally incapacitated than I actually am, should you get the chance. It will make me a less exciting target."

"Do you think you'll be continuing any ImpSec service, if not as chief, then . . . I don't know . . . consultant or something?"

"No. Now that my, hm, peculiar assassination has been solved, I'll be opting out. Don't look so shocked, Miles. Forty-five years of Imperial service does not qualify as a career cut tragically short."

"I suppose not. Gregor will miss you. We all will."

"Oh, I expect I'll be around."