A tap on the door interrupted her uneasy thoughts. Her carryon? "Come in," she said. The door

opened, and Barin stood there looking sheepish.

"May I?" he asked. Esmay nodded; he entered, shutting the door behind him, and pulled her up from the chair. She stiffened for a moment, then relaxed against him.

"Your family-" she began.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't my idea, but it is my family. They're . . . headstrong."

"And you aren't?" She wasn't ready to think it was funny; she wanted to indulge her annoyance-such

justified annoyance-a little longer, but suddenly her sense of humor kicked in. She could just imagine Barin, having planned this quiet little retreat, being maneuvered by his powerful and numerous family. She stifled the giggle that tried to come out.

"Not headstrong enough," Barin said, with a rueful grin. "I tried to tell them to let us alone, but you see how well I did."

Esmay lost control of the giggle; she could feel it vibrating in her throat and then it was out.

"You aren't angry?" he asked hopefully.

"Not at you, anyway," Esmay said. "I suppose a quiet few days alone was too much to hope for."

"I didn't think so," Barin said. "You would think the entire universe was playing tricks on us-"

"Ummm . . . I've read that lovers always put themselves in the center of everything."

"I'd like to put us in the center of a bed, a long way from everywhere else," Barin said, with a hint of a growl.

"We'll get there," Esmay said. Her arms tightened around him; he felt as good as ever, and she

wanted to melt right into him until their bones chimed together.

Someone knocked on the door. "Barin, if you don't let her get dressed, we'll never get to dinner-"

A female voice, one she hadn't met yet.

"Oh, shut up," muttered Barin in Esmay's ear. "Why wasn't I born an orphan?"

"It would have been too simple," Esmay said. "Let me go-I want to change. And are we eating up here, or in public?" Not that the entire Serrano family wasn't public enough.

"Here. It's coming up." He let go, went to the door, and opened it. There stood a woman in her

thirties, about Esmay's size, with the Serrano features.

"Esmay, I'm Dolcent. Barin-go away, I need to talk to her for a moment."

"I hate you," Barin said, but he left. Dolcent grinned.

"Listen-I gather you were expecting a quiet evening of entertainment and you have only one

carryon. If I were in that situation, I'd have brought only the clothes I meant to wear, which

weren't exactly family-meeting ones . . . so may I offer you something?"

Annoyance returned, a wave of it-who did they think they were?-but then she remembered the contents of her carryon. Clothes for a casual day or so with her fiance, one nice dress to meet the parents . . . blast the woman, she was right.

"Thank you," Esmay said, as graciously as she could while swallowing another lump of resentment.

"I wouldn't like having to borrow clothes, but there are times-look-"

She had to admit that Dolcent's offerings were better than anything she'd brought, and Dolcent's

blue tunic over her own casual slacks met both requirements. Esmay thanked her.

"Never mind. I'll raid your wardrobe someday. If you make my little brother happy, that is."

"Otherwise you'll blow it up, eh?"

"Something like that," Dolcent said. "Or if you call me Dolly . . . just a warning." She grinned.

Dinner was less formal than she'd feared; the hotel staff brought in a buffet and left it, and people served themselves from it, sitting wherever they fancied. Esmay had a corner of a big puffy sofa with a table at her elbow, and Dolcent beside her, offering explanations. A man's voice emerged from the general babble.

"And I told him that technology wasn't mature enough, but he's determined-"

"Iones-a distant uncle. In material research; you just missed him when you were on Koskiusko,"

Dolcent said. "He's a terrible bore, but what he knows he really knows."

Then a woman, close enough to see. "-and if she ever takes that tone to me again, I'll rip the

brass right off her-"

"And that's Bindi-never mind her; she's not as bad as she sounds."

A shrimp came flying through the air with deadly accuracy, to bounce off Dolcent's head. "Am I

not, you miserable eavesdropper?"

Calmly, Dolcent picked up the shrimp and ate it. "No, you're not. Nor am I an eavesdropper, when you're talking loud enough to be heard three rooms away."

Bindi shrugged and turned away.

"Is it always like this?" Esmay asked.

"Usually worse. But I'll be accused of dire things if I try to explain Serrano family politics.

You come from a large family yourself, right? You should know."

"Ummm . . ." There was, after all, some of the same flavor in the interactions. The loud ones, staking out their space and their areas of power; the quiet ones in the corners, raising a

sardonic eyebrow now and then. Bindi would be an Aunt Sanni; Barin's mother, like her stepmother, seemed to be a quiet peacemaker.

Heris Serrano pulled up a chair to the other side of the end table, and sat down, and put her

plate beside Esmay's. Esmay had never thought of Commander Serrano wearing anything but a uniform, but . . . here she was in silvery-green patterned silk, a loose tunic over flowing slacks.

"Esmay-I don't know if you remember me-"

"Yes, si-Commander-"

"Heris, please. This room's so full of rank otherwise, we can hardly talk to each other. I don't think I've seen you face to face to thank you for saving our skins at Xavier-and not just ours-"

"Heris, not during dinner-I know you're going to talk tactics to her sometime, but not now."

Dolcent pointed with a crab leg, a gesture that would have been a deadly insult on Altiplano.

"She's going to be married; you could at least choose a more suitable topic."

"And you'd talk clothes to her, 'Centa? Or flowers, or which way to fold the napkins at the

reception?"

"Better than old battles during dinner." Dolcent didn't seem perturbed by Heris's intensity; Esmay watched with interest.

"Picked out a wedding outfit yet, Esmay?" Heris asked, with too much sugar in her voice.

"No, s-Heris. Brun says she's taking care of it."

"Dear . . . me. How did that happen?"

"She just . . ." Esmay waved her hands helplessly. "She found out I had no ideas, and then the next thing I knew she was sending me fabric samples and talking about designers."

"She is something, isn't she?" Heris chuckled. "You should have seen her years back, when she was really wild. If you're not careful, she'll organize the whole wedding."