“But I will ask Shen Li,” he added, “when she comes back again, although Laurence, I will tell you privately, I was quite right: there is something very peculiar about her, and I am sure it is all these long stretches aloft. She is perfectly pleasant, no-one could ever complain of her; but unless one speaks to her she will only sit quite still without saying a word, for hours and hours, and if one should ask what she is thinking, she says she is trying to stop thinking.”
The magnificence of the coming dinner did make Temeraire feel a little awkward and anxious. He was privately conscious he did not look his best himself, as he had grown a little thin over their journey, and all the sea-bathing in the world had not yet sufficed to clear all the red dust from his hide; his scales were not quite so glossy as he might have liked, and he was sadly conscious that the edges of his wings were ragged. His breastplate had collected several scratches and dents, which Mr. Fellowes with all the will in the world had not quite been able to correct—Temeraire sadly missed having a proper blacksmith.
But at least he did have his talon-sheaths, and Tharunka had offered him some of the oil which she was using upon her own hide, against the dry, hot climate; the effect, Temeraire thought, would be particularly elegant on his black scales.
“I don’t mind sharing at all; I am sorry you had to come all this way,” she said, in what he felt was a handsomely apologetic manner, “especially as no, I don’t suppose I will come back. It is no reflection on the Corps, I am sure, as your captain seems a fine lot; but I can’t be fond of any of these officers you have brought along. They are all too pushy by half, and there is no really good fellow-feeling, as anyone might like to have around. Maybe I don’t have a particular captain of my own, but I am pretty sure of good company any time of day or night if I want it, here with the Larrakia or anywhere in the country; and I don’t have to sleep in a covert, or on a ship, or in some lonesome valley.”
Temeraire could see the sense of her decision, if one cared to have quite a large circle, as most Reapers did seem to. Although he himself could be perfectly content with no other society so long as he had Laurence, certainly none of the other aviators was nearly as good, as Tharunka showed good judgment in recognizing; and the aviators might stop going around muttering and complaining of waste, if they did not choose to be better.
However, in one respect Temeraire did have to blush for Laurence, and for himself: there was no possible consolation for the appearance which Laurence would have to present at the coming dinner, the most particular and notable occasion they had met in this whole country since arriving. Temeraire struggled with his pride, and then yielded: when next Jia Zhen came by the pavilion, Temeraire dropped his head and deeply conscious of embarrassment began to try and explain—the length of the journey—the unsettled state of England after the invasion—the minor technical irregularity of their situation—
Before he had gone very far, however, Jia Zhen forestalled him and said, in the most delicate way imaginable, “I have been meaning to ask you if it would be considered excessively bold to offer a gift of robes on behalf of our small and unworthy outpost, when we have only the most limited of skill and our materials are scarcely suitable.”
“Oh, how happy I should be,” Temeraire cried, deeply grateful, “and I am sure Laurence could not but be honored by the gesture—” which proved even more splendid than Temeraire had ever hoped it might be: there was still some deep blue silk held in the stores, and green, and yellow thread to sew it with which looked almost golden; and it proved that Mr. Shipley had formerly been a tailor. Given the pattern of Jia Zhen’s own formal robes and offered a small sum of golden coins, Shipley worked with great speed and energy, and even went so far as to try a little embroidery, at Temeraire’s suggestion.
To cap his satisfaction and his feelings of deepest good-will, Tharunka said, when it was nearly ready, “Temeraire, the Larrakia have considered the circumstances, and believe that according to the law, it was not quite proper for the Wiradjuri to take my egg from you, even though you were in their country, as I am not anything which one would hunt. As they cannot give me back now, of course, they would like to know if you would accept instead some of these opals? That bit,” she added aside, “was my own notion: I thought they might be very fine on those robes: how lovely they do look!”
“Now that,” Temeraire said, feeling as though he must be aglow, “is what I must call civilized; and I am very glad, Tharunka, that you should have hatched with people of such consideration; if they have not any other dragons amongst them, that is not their fault, after all; certainly no-one could say they do not deserve to have them.”
So the opals were sewn tightly onto the sleeves and the borders of the robe with fine thin thread, and Tharunka was quite right, they shone beautifully upon the dark silk; and when the whole was held up for inspection, no-one could have found any fault in it at all. “I will say it is something like,” even Caesar grudgingly admitted, when he had nosed his head around it, and Iskierka jealously jetted some steam and said, “It is very unreasonable that Granby will not let me take any of these ships; if only I had any more of my treasure here!”
Laurence was stricken perfectly silent by their magnificence, when Jia Zhen presented them—at Temeraire’s request, in the pavilion, so that he might observe. “Pray put them on at once, Laurence,” Temeraire could not help but urge, as Laurence held their luxurious weight across both his arms and looked upon them, “for perhaps they might not fit perfectly; there is still time to alter the size, I think, before this evening.”
Temeraire need not have worried; the robes fit without any alteration, and Laurence said, “My dear, I am very sensible of the effort—the consideration which should have gone into—” and stopped.
Temeraire said delightedly, “It is nothing, Laurence; nothing but what you ought to have had always, and how happy I am! I have not been easy about it, since I knew that I had lost your fortune; but I suppose anyone would rather have these than only some money in a bank. I do not think anyone could buy anything nicer anywhere.”
“And—” Laurence said, “—and you are certain that this should be appropriate for the occasion—not, perhaps, excessive—”
“No; how could it be?” Temeraire said. “When Jia Zhen himself proposed them; and after all, Laurence, you are the Emperor’s son: it is only suitable that you should have the grandest appearance.”
“Oh Lord,” Granby said. “Well, Laurence, you may call me a scrub, but I will be an honest scrub: I will swallow my gold buttons and silk coats and count my blessings. But at least you don’t look a fool,” he added, trying to be comforting, perhaps. “You look as though you might say Off with their heads! at any moment; but not a fool.”
“Thank you,” Laurence said, rather austerely: he felt a fool enough, and furthermore an outrageously false one, counterfeiting the appearance of an Oriental monarch and making, as it must seem, the most absurd pretensions to a station at once far beyond his own and utterly foreign to it.
And he could say nothing: if Temeraire’s plain joy had not forbidden it, simple courtesy towards his hosts would have done as much, when so much effort and expense had been spent in the creation of the garments, and when they had been so ceremoniously presented. But Laurence was perfectly certain he had not put them on correctly, and also unable to persuade himself he would not look ridiculous both to his fellow Britons, and more surely to his hosts, who knew better; he was reduced to only the meager hope that they might not fall down while he ate; which event if it occurred should certainly draw the attention of the entire assembly, as he realized with dismay he was to be seated at the head, beside Temeraire.