Of course, she reflected, it might also be because they were the first treecats ever to be raised from birth among humans. She couldn’t be absolutely certain, since Nimitz had been fully mature when they first met, but it seemed to her that she already tasted a subtle difference in their “mind-glows.” A sense of horizons that were… broader. Or more diverse. Something.

“In fact, the whole household was delighted to see me,” she told Benjamin, shaking herself free of her thoughts. “I’ve got the hug bruises to prove it, too.”

“Good.” Benjamin took another sip of wine, then returned the glass to the table. Honor would have recognized the “time to get down to business” gesture even without her ability to taste the emotions behind it, and she cocked her head.

“There was a reason I asked you to dine privately with me,” he said. “In fact, there was more than one. If Katherine or Elaine had been available, I would have invited them, as well. But Cat was already scheduled for that address to the Navy Wives Association, and then Alexandra came down with the flu.” He shook his head quickly at the flicker of concern the news of his youngest daughter’s illness sent through Honor’s eyes. “It’s not serious, but Alex is almost as stubborn about admitting she’s not feeling well as Honor is, and she managed to get herself dehydrated before she told her mothers she was sick. So Elaine is playing the tyrannical mommy this afternoon.”

“I see, and I’m glad to hear it’s nothing more serious than that. But I have to admit that you’ve made me just a little nervous with your ominous foreshadowing.”

“I didn’t mean to do that, but by the same token, I do have some serious concerns, and I’ve been looking forward to the opportunity to discuss them with you face-to-face.”

His voice was calm, but his eyes were intent, and as Honor gazed at him, she was struck by the weariness and worry hiding behind his composed exterior. And by his age, she realized abruptly. He was forty-seven T-years old, thirteen years younger than she, yet he looked older than Hamish, and she felt a sudden pang, almost a premonition of loss.

She’d felt the same thing last night, sitting at the supper table with her parents, Faith and James, and the Clinkscales when she’d realized how much frailer Lord Howard Clinkscales had become over the past few years. Now she saw the same process, if on a lesser scale, as she gazed at the Protector. Like so many of her pre-prolong Grayson friends, age was inexorably creeping up on him, and it shocked and dismayed her to realize he was already into middle age. It was a vigorous, energetic middle age, yet his dark hair was going silver and there were too many lines on his face.

And, she thought with a sudden chill, sensing her armsman at her shoulder as thunder rattled the overhead dome once more, he’s five years younger than Andrew is.