The Vanara Alpha did not respond for a long time. He turned and went to speak quietly with one of the other weremonkeys, a smaller, delicate-looking creature with almost white fur. Eventually he returned his attention to Rue.

“We have legends of Vanaras in the past who could take many forms in service to the gods. Are you one of these? A lost kinswoman?”

Rue said, “I’ll take it. Kinswoman is better than Foreign Devil Woman any evening. If it helps, I too am fond of tea. Perhaps it runs in the family?” But despite her enthusiasm, the Vanara did not relax in his aggressive stance, even though it was he who had extended the offer of kinship.

He continued, “This seems a reasonable explanation. Tea love is always good, but sadly we cannot hold you as family in truth. Our foreign brothers whose form is one with Bhairava’s mount have lost their way and fight for the Rakshasas and their pact with your queen.”

Percy interjected at this point: “‘Bhairava’s mount’ is their term for werewolves. Although, according to legend, I believe the mount was a dog of some variety.”

“Yes, thank you, Percy.”

Behind the twitching Vanaras, in her silver birdcage, Miss Sekhmet suddenly spat and hissed in agony or frustration.

The Vanara Alpha ignored her and continued talking to Rue. “So you too, kinswoman, might be an agent of evil. Turned by the Rakshasas against us in the service of conquerors.”

It was an insulting way to put it but Rue had to admit, from his perspective, it was a fair assessment. How on earth was she to explain British politics, the position of the East India Company, or the very idea of social progression, to a bunch of monkeys?

She gave it her best shot. “The Rakshasas are unpleasant. On this matter we entirely agree. But our vampires at home are not the same. And you must understand, Her Majesty did not know of your existence.”

“This is irrelevant to the fact that you allied with them. You gave daemons money, trade, technology, tea.”

Rue struggled with a way to defend what seemed to be a grievous political error the British Empire hadn’t even known it was committing. “We are a civilised nation. It is our policy to ally with the supernatural wherever we are in the world. Our politicians draw little distinction between werewolf and vampire, between Rakshasa and Vanara. Forgive me if this seems an insult. In the queen’s eyes all are special. All are worthy.”

Around her, as Percy repeated her words, the Vanaras chittered in annoyance. Rue wasn’t certain if they were angry with her, with what had happened with first contact, or with the implication of her words.