The raider’s face was set in deep, serious lines and barely moved at all as he spoke to a military officer. The lack of expression sent an unpleasant prickle down Jainan’s back. “How do you know his name?”

Bel shook her head. “She’s being modest,” Kiem said. “She used to work for the Sefalan Guard.”

“I’m not being modest,” Bel said, “I’m reminding you that raiders are bad news, since you seem to have missed that from all the Iskat children’s animations about them.”

“Modest and has a full range of helpful tips,” Kiem said cheerfully. “Hey, they’re seating people. Care to accompany me to dinner, Your Grace?” He gave a mock bow and offered his arm.

Jainan smiled mechanically and took it. Bel slipped off toward the drinks table as Jainan followed Kiem to the other side of the hall from the Sefalan, and steeled himself for the long and awkward meal that was to follow.

He hadn’t factored in how it would feel to be accompanied by a different partner. Kiem seemed to recover quickly from the eerie aura of the remnants that made all the guests constantly cast nervous glances at empty air, and he promptly made fast friends with the person on the other side of him. He introduced them to Jainan as Master Sergeant Vignar, who ran logistics at Central One HQ. Ten minutes later Vignar and Kiem appeared to have bonded for life over old dartcar races. Jainan concentrated on his food, made small talk with the Kaani treaty representative opposite him, and monitored Kiem with half an ear. At first he split his attention, but as he made his way through the sweet course, he realized he wasn’t going to have to jump in, or run two conversations simultaneously, or field Kiem’s bad mood. He could feel his own state of mind improving as the meal went on.

The Kaani representative, a tall, elegant person with a habitual air of finding amusement at someone else’s expense, picked at the remains of their sweet course while watching Jainan.

“It’s good to see you at events again,” they said.

“Thank you,” Jainan said warily, as if it wasn’t compulsory. Kaan’s representative had come to the palace after him and Jainan hadn’t seen them around much. Kaan scoffed at the concept of gender, but their representative had capitulated to Iskat custom far enough to have a glass bead braided into the hair by their ear. Jainan was so out of touch he couldn’t even remember their name.

“I was starting to think,” the representative continued, “that our hosts had just decided to abandon your treaty.”

Jainan’s hand tightened around his fork. His first panicked thought was whether Kiem had heard, but Kiem was still embroiled in his dartcar conversation. Jainan kept his voice level with an effort. “Excuse me?”