You asked? "I've come to redeem my word and my dance, milady." He managed a Vorish bow.

"Good! It's about time. I've saved out all the mirror dances and the called reels."

All the simple dances he could be expected to do. "I had Miles teach me the steps to Mazeppa's Minuet last week," he added hopefully.

"Perfect. Oh, the music's starting—" She hauled him onto the inlaid floor.

She wore a swirling dark green dress with red trim, which set off her ash-blonde curls. In a sort of positive paranoia, he wondered if her outfit could possibly have been deliberately color-coordinated with his own clothes. Surely it must be a coincidence. How—? My tailor to my mother to her mother to her. Hell, any ImpSec analyst ought to be able to figure out that data trail.

Grunt, alas, had a distracting and distressing tendency to mentally undress her, and worse. But Grunt was not going to be permitted to speak tonight. This one is Lord Mark's job. And he isn't going to screw it up this time. Grunt could just lurk down in there and build up steam. Lord Mark would find a use for the power. Starting with keeping the beat. There was even a dance—Mazeppa's Minuet, as it happened—where the two partners touched each other, holding the hand or the waist, for almost the entire pattern.

All true wealth is biological, the Count had said. Mark finally saw exactly what he meant. For all his million Betan dollars, he could not buy this, the light in Kareen's eyes. Though it couldn't hurt . . . what was that damned Earth bird or other, that built wildly elaborate nests to attract a mate?

They were in the middle of a mirror dance. "So, Kareen—you're a girl. I, uh, had this argument with Ivan. What do you think is the most attractive thing a fellow can have? A lightflyer, wealth . . .  rank?" He hoped his tone suggested he was running some sort of scientific survey. Nothing personal, ma'am.

She pursed her lips. "Wit," she said at last.

Yeah. And what store are you going to buy that in, with all your Betan dollars, boy?

"Mirror dance, my turn," said Kareen. "What's the most important thing a woman can have?"

"Trust," he answered without thinking, and then thought about it to the point of almost losing his step. He was going to need a mountain of trust, no lie. So, start building it tonight, Lord Mark old boy. Hauling one bloody basket load at a time, if you have to.

He managed to make her laugh out loud four times, after that. He kept count.

*    *    *