Most of the delegations once again opted for a private meal, so I went straight to the observer quarters. They had talked Tony into letting them eat on our back patio, and when I came out, I found Dagorkun, Karat, Tomato, Tony, and Gaston, all situated around the big outside table enjoying Orro’s version of the traditional American breakfast. If the traditional breakfast included serving sunny-side-up eggs in little baskets made of French-fried potatoes and bejeweled with beads of crystallized but delectable ketchup and maple syrup.

The moment I sat down, Droplet emerged from the kitchen, placed a plate with my own egg in a basket and a cup of coffee in front of me, and vanished back into the kitchen. The table was so full of food, it was a wonder it didn’t break. I stared at the spread for a long moment, struggling with decision paralysis, then put a couple of sausage links on my plate, added some fruit, and took a sip of my brew.

Mmm, delicious caffeine.

“I thought you preferred tea,” Tony said. His plate was the size of a Thanksgiving platter, and he was putting food away like he would never get a chance to eat again. There was a reason he was Orro's favorite visitor. Well, aside from Gaston, that is.

“I do. Tea isn’t cutting it right now.”

“Dushegubs?” he asked.

“Mhm. And paparazzi. And pirates. Which one of you let Caldenia into the otrokar quarters last night?”

Gaston raised his hand. “C’est moi, je suis coupable.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

Why was I not surprised? “You are supposed to watch her, not cater to her whims.”

“I have a dual mission, to assist you and to assist the Sovereign. George, and the Office of Arbitration, want the spousal selection to go smoothly.”

Of course, George wouldn’t let it go.

“Watching Her Grace is truly an honor and a privilege,” Gaston said. “Her plotting is sublime. When I grow up, I want to be just like her. If she was taking apprentices, I would immediately pledge myself on bended knee. Sadly, she isn’t interested at this time. I’ve asked.”

That’s just what we needed, Gaston underfoot.

“That is a spectacularly terrible, no good, awful idea,” Tony said. “That woman can dissect you with two sentences. You’ll never recover.”

“And that’s precisely why I would want to be her apprentice,” Gaston said.

“What was that language you used?” Karat asked.

“French. A version of it, my lady,” Gaston said.

Oooh, “my lady.” Someone had caught on to vampire etiquette.

Dagorkun frowned.

“Does your planet have more than one language?” Karat asked.

“It has many. I learned to speak French and English at the same time. They are both my mother tongues. Does your planet have other languages?”

She shook her head. “No, we have various dialects, but they are all distributaries of the same linguistic river. Your other language sounds interesting.”