Chapter Fourteen
Stefan lifted the distance glasses, aimed them at Francesca’s terrace, and tapped the control. The flagstone terrace leapt into focus, the border of russet foliage as clear as the gray stone floor and the two figures who stood less than a meter apart. Ran-Del’s pose suggested calm, but Francesca held her arms stiffly at her sides. Another argument, then. Buster, the Sansoussy hound, had clearly grown accustomed to such scenes, as he lolled near Ran-Del’s feet with complete indifference.
“What are you smiling at, Stefan?” Nisa’s voice said.
Stefan lowered the distance glasses and looked up in surprise. He hadn’t heard her come in. “Good morning, Nisa.”
“What’s so interesting?” Nisa asked, moving closer to the window. Her gaze raked the yard until it reached Francesca’s terrace just as Ran-Del and Francesca suddenly embraced.
Stefan lifted the glasses in time to see the two of them go inside, leaving Buster to guard the door.
Nisa turned back to Stefan with a stern look on her face. She tightened her mouth into a prim line but said nothing.
“That’s two mornings in a row,” Stefan said as he put the glasses on the desk. “Looks like Ran-Del’s making up for lost time.”
Nisa let out an uncharacteristically loud snort of outrage. “Stefan! How can you spy on your own daughter?”
“I always put the glasses down once they go inside,” Stefan said. “I just like the reassurance that they’re getting along.”
“Getting along?” Nisa pursed her lips again. “They may be keeping the sheets warm, but they also fight constantly.”
Her argument didn’t disturb Stefan. Considering the differences in their background—not to mention how their relationship had begun—he couldn’t expect the pair not to disagree about some things. “Fights are okay, just so long as they always make up afterwards.”
“Sex doesn’t resolve anything.”
Stefan refused to be talked out of his euphoria. “Maybe not. But it makes it hard to stay mad.”
Nisa rolled her eyes. “Ran-Del is just being stubborn. Of course he needs to learn to read.”
Stefan sat down in his chair and leaned back. If he wasn’t careful, Nisa and Francesca could unite against him and make life difficult. “It’d be better if he were to decide that himself.”
“That’s true. Maybe you could point that out to him?”
“I’m staying out of it,” Stefan said firmly. “I just hope they resolve it by tomorrow night.”
Nisa shook her head despairingly. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to have a party so soon? Ran-Del may wear the clothes Francesca selects for him, but he still insists on carrying a knife, and he won’t give up the moccasins, either. He sneaks up on people.”
“He’s a Sansoussy.” Stefan lifted a hand in a grandiose gesture. “No matter how much Francesca succeeds in putting a veneer of city polish on him, underneath, he’ll always be a Sansoussy. That’s what I wanted for her, and that’s what I got.”
Nisa shook her head. “That fact is one reason he’s not ready to be displayed to a group of strangers. Why are you having this party now?”
The answer was obvious. “To announce his engagement to Francesca, of course. No point in having him around unless everyone knows he’s here.”
Nisa still looked worried. “I just hope he can behave himself for a whole evening with so many strangers in the house.”
She had a point. Perhaps it would be just as well to let her know why he didn’t want to wait. “I had a message from Maeve Omalley waiting for me when I got back with Ran-Del and Francesca.”
Nisa’s eyes lit with interest. “What did she say?”
“She suggested that since Francesca’s mother was a Wah, I might want to consider bringing the House of Hayden into Omalley-Chang-Wah with a marriage between Francesca and an unmarried Omalley or Chang son of the right age.”
“That’s nothing new.” Nisa cocked her head. “You’ve gotten a lot of those offers lately.”
He leaned forward, thumbed the dial of his terminal, then keyed his personal code to retrieve the message. “Yes, but Maeve added some suggestions for the wedding ceremony. One of them was to have it here in the compound—with an illustration.” He swiveled the display toward her.
Nisa bent to look at the message. “My god!” She straightened up, eyes wide with fear. “That’s a floor plan for this house!”
“Exactly.” Stefan pointed at the outline of his office. “I suppose I should be glad the escape tunnels don’t appear.”
“What did D’Persis say about this?”
“She’s looking into it.”
Nisa lifted her brows. “Is that all she said?”
“Leaving out the curse words, yes.” He glanced at the floor plan again. “Not exactly subtle, is it?”
“Not subtle, no.”
She was taking it pretty well. Maybe now was a good time to bring up the subject of her own safety. “Would you do something for me, Nisa?”
That got her attention. “What is it?”
Just like her. No sweeping promises—no, she was too careful to make a commitment until she knew what it was she was agreeing to. Stefan opened a drawer in his desk and took out a tiny object. Smaller than Nisa’s index finger, it had a long flattish barrel on one end and a small but bulbous haft on the other. “Will you carry this everywhere you go?”
She looked puzzled, and then understanding dawned. “Is it a weapon?”
He nodded. “It’s an energy beamer.” Faster than a laser and requiring less precision, it could kill in seconds. He held the bulbous end in his palm and closed his fist over the barrel so that it barely showed under his thumb. “You hold it like this and squeeze tightly to fire.”
Her eyes lifted to his face. “I don’t know if I could kill anyone, Stefan.”
He put the beamer in her hand and closed her fingers over the barrel, then lifted her fist to point at a potted plant in the corner. When he squeezed her fist tightly, a tiny pop sounded, and one leaf dissolved as the beamer excited its molecules so thoroughly that steam rose from the plant.
Nisa jumped.
“You probably won’t need to kill anyone.” Stefan let her hand go and patted her shoulder. “If you’re in danger, you can use this to scare them off—or kill only if you have to.”
She swallowed. “I don’t know if it serves any purpose to give this to me. I always fall apart when I’m scared.”
She was underestimating herself again. “If nothing else,” he said, “it would make me feel much better to know you have it.”
“All right, I’ll take it.” Nisa shivered as she looked at the tiny weapon in her hand. “Have you ever thought about just doing what they want, Stefan? Would it be so terrible if Hayden was part of Omalley-Chang-Wah?”
He bit back a retort and tried for a calm answer. “I think so. This House has always been independent, and if I can manage it, we always will be.” He smiled to soften any rebuke she might hear in his words. “I want to leave Francesca something equal to what my mother left to me.”
Her eyes glistened. “And I just want it to be years and years before that happens.”
He let out a chuckle. “I’d like that, too.”
The Sixth Discipline Page 46